"W-Wait, wait, Gōngzǐ. Enough." Lìngxiāo's voice cut through the memory like a thin blade—though his ears were burning red.
He was already wearing his bamboo hat again, just to hide his face. His smile was pressed tight and twitching, his gaze fixed on the wooden barrier instead of looking at Chóng Fēi.
He was now sitting at a corner of the carriage like Chóng Fēi was a dangerous beast who might attack him—and he was already preparing for another slap. His hand gripped the fabric of his robe over his thigh—the same hand that had slapped Chóng Fēi so hard he could never forget.
He shakily glanced at him from behind the veil. "Are you doing this on purpose, Gōngzǐ..?" His voice was troubled—no longer clean or professional, but a mix of anger and embarrassment. "You were just making me imagine things I should not be imagining."
Chóng Fēi shut his eyes tight with embarrassment. His face was beet red. He had never felt THIS embarrassed—not even when that exorcist had caught him from falling.
'The fuck..'
'I described too much.'
'Now only the Lord of Earth knows what he might be thinking.'
'Why did I need to say it like I was explaining a novel?!'
He seriously wanted to jump from this small window into the valley below. It would have been better—because now the road was thick with smoke, and the valley was high enough that his bones wouldn't even be found.
If his voice was a person, it would have been resisting to show its face just as much as him. Because it seemed to be pulling back into his throat when he tried to at least explain that he hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable or earn another slap—perhaps this time by the palm, since the last one had been by the back of his left hand.
He cleared his throat before meeting his gaze stiffly. Both were side-eyeing each other.
"W-well no. It is not what it might.. sound like." He started slowly, mindful so the driver wouldn't even accidentally hear him. His hand rested awkwardly on the seat. "There were strange details.. into that scene.. so I just.. explained it."
He shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting outside or at random places like his soul wasn't supporting him. The mix of embarrassment and rising panic was the strangest wine of emotions he had ever tasted in his life.
'How would I tell him that I'm preparing myself more than him?'
'Who knows when he'll come back to haunt me here.'
'Better if he just kills me.'
"The details meant his words, his appearance. It seemed.. important, so I explained." He quickly added, trying to bring back his arrogance. "You wouldn't understand anything if I had skipped. Besides.. you wished to listen.. nothing even started.. just yet."
But for once again, Lìngxiāo looked like the man with the most judgmental eyes without even trying. Those eyes were too transparent right now to see through.
"Y-you mean.. Gōngzǐ.. you had.. more things further with him..?" He asked carefully, but he was almost already horrified. He finally looked at him once, but his once perfectly arranged words seemed to be falling from his grasp, and he was struggling to keep them arranged. "This.. on what was.. being built..?"
"Of course not!" Chóng Fēi hissed faintly, faster than remembering the actual incident. His face flushed bright—like all the blood had rushed to his cheekbones and nose. "I said.. it was a rumor. That guy made it worse.. by taking advantage of my cluelessness at that young age."
"Eighteen, Gōngzǐ.." Lìngxiāo reminded bitterly—but still ridiculously far from his normal distance. His smile was dark, like he was traumatized or something.
The age reminder said it all without needing to be spelled out: you really were smart enough at your age!
"Hey! You keep bringing up a pain in my ass." Chóng Fēi exhaled, faintly barking with a panic he couldn't shake off.
"And.." His voice grew softer but sure—more confident with his facts. His mind raced to find realistic examples. "Body and mind are.. different. Sometimes they don't obey in time. Just as.." His eyes moved to the window again as he muttered, "Just as you couldn't do anything before I.. cursed and you slapped me."
Lìngxiāo exhaled through his mouth, adjusting in his seat like it was raining inside the carriage.
Chóng Fēi read his expression.
It was still troubled—but like any elder. Just as the way his eyes shut, his breath left, and he returned to the conversation—it looked exactly like he was saying to himself: alright, he was young. He was confused. The moment was unexpected and.. perhaps it overwhelmed him, so he shared it with me. I should be a good gēge. He at least owes me this after that slap, which I should not have given him like that while it wasn't totally in his range.
That's what Chóng Fēi guessed from everything—from the slap till now.
But he was damn grateful, even if those fingerprints didn't kiss over his cheek without warning or reasoning he could understand earlier. He shouldn't have slapped him in the first place. He was the very only heir of the clan Lìngxiāo was working with.
But still, he couldn't drop this reminder that way either—because he felt like something better, like the start of an awkward friendship, was forming between them.
"Is the story too long, Gōngzǐ?" Lìngxiāo asked quietly after a little silence.
"I was.. already saying the short version—from the middle-end. This is long enough to be a single short volume of a novel." Chóng Fēi said, like his past was a basket of stories that was both a reason for pride, embarrassment, and fear every single day.
Because who would hold him when that trauma showed up alive in front of him, and he was caged to even speak openly about it to anyone?
"I see.." Lìngxiāo swallowed softly. "You were describing too much, Gōngzǐ. Move to the next plot.." His hand lightly raised awkwardly, fingers signaling the pace, "a little.. faster.. perhaps from the ending then."
"Fine." Chóng Fēi exhaled like he was releasing extra feelings with the breath. "Then I'll explain his fall."
"Continue. But.. less detail—if anything like that is.. there too. And.." Lìngxiāo reminded again before pausing. "Do not hide anything important if you are sure about it."
Chóng Fēi rolled his eyes this time.
'I was doing the same earlier. Doesn't he find his whole appearance strange and the nicknames? Who knows? Maybe his ways are different than mine.'
Chóng Fēi asked quietly, as if he wanted to make those words permanent in his memory. "How much.. less detail?"
"Yes." Lìngxiāo's voice was tight. He nodded once. "Much less."
"At least sit normally now. This part probably doesn't have anything to be uncomfortable about." He asked awkwardly. The unusual space between them seemed to keep pinching at his dignity and ego.
"I told you my muscles react.." He reminded again. He badly needed something to squeeze—since he didn't have his pillows or his father's arm to do it with. "Is supporting a little by just a hand that tough than the slap?" He added with bitter, dramatic annoyance and disbelief—though his heart was pounding again.
It really wasn't a big deal to do. Right?
Lìngxiāo blinked like he would rather die than sit at a natural close distance or even give a hand. He seemed conflicted about something—just as he was when Chóng Fēi pressed for the questions in the room.
Chóng Fēi found another way out of this mess by using this exact conflict of Lìngxiāo.
He was left silent.
"A light support and you get the.. rest of the story. Or nothing." His tone turned arrogant again, and he mentally thanked himself. "Or.." He paused with a thought.
'What if I really can't get deep information about him from him too..?'
'What if he also bites back?'
But still, he pressed. "Or I still get to know you because you work for us. Not like we do for you. And this much was what I wished to say.. and might not wish to continue if you psychologically press me to spill a memory that is literally a trauma for me—perhaps just as yours was—"
"Alright, as you wish. Gōng. zǐ." Lìngxiāo cut in. His chin lifted slightly more than his usual posture, as if trying hard to tell himself: it will be fine. "Continue.."
Chóng Fēi blinked.
'Eh? I thought he would.. fucking give up if I remind him how still cruel he's being to me while he treats me like a child too!'
His mouth parted faintly when Lìngxiāo slowly slipped closer—just into the usual distance. His slim jaw was tight behind the thin veil and his hair.
His right hand rested closer to Chóng Fēi's.
"Just an arm.. nothing more. But less is.. better."
Chóng Fēi shut his mouth. He lost his useless war of conflict. But he was going to win another small relief, support with it, and—perhaps a danger too, which they could manage together if he didn't faint in the middle of everything.
"A-alright, then listen.." He slowly started again. His mind deeply focusing on the crashed tragedy and horror.
His finger twitched near to Lìngxiāo's already. But he couldn't identify if it was for his fear of panicking hard again or unspoken wish to stay close to a mysteriously captivating person—again.