THE STONE DOOR slid slowly open. Fan Yun stepped in.
Cui Buqu was lying on the bed, his breathing even. He appeared sound asleep, but Fan Yun asked him without preamble, "Feeling better?"
Clearly he knew Cui Buqu was awake. No matter how well someone feigned sleep, their breathing would give them away—no martial expert would be fooled. Fan Yun ignored the Please leave written all over Cui Buqu's face and sat down by the bed.
"I know you're upset with me. Your teacher indeed owes you. But to achieve my goal, I won't hesitate, even if it means sacrificing lives. You and I each serve our own masters. Since you refuse to join us willingly, how else was I to draw you here?"
After shooting him a cold look, Cui Buqu closed his eyes again. "Since the two Jin dynasties, countless visionaries have thrown their weight into moving the world. All of them met tragic ends. They had armies and weapons. Everything was in their favor: time, place, people. They were in a far better position to succeed than this pavilion leader of yours. Xiansheng, with all your wisdom, do you really believe he can achieve what he claims?"
Fan Yun appeared unconcerned. "There are many things people attempt despite knowing they are impossible. Man proposes, and heaven disposes. Buqu, you say time and place were in their favor. Then you should know that, just as some visionaries succeeded due to fortunate timing, others failed precisely despite their favorable placement. Take Yang Jian, for instance, who usurped the throne through his daughter's connection to the emperor. Bluntly, he rose to power because of a woman. Though history will remember his name, the stigma can never be erased. You shouldn't underestimate the pavilion leader. He's more capable than you can imagine."
Cui Buqu sneered. "He's gathered so many martial arts masters and has pawns like Feng Xiao and Yuan Sansi planted within the imperial court—not to mention a strategist like you, Fan-xiansheng. He is indeed quite capable."
"Is that all you think he has?" asked Fan Yun meaningfully.
At that, Cui Buqu narrowed his eyes, but Fan Yun didn't continue. Instead, he took a porcelain bottle from his lapels. "This is a medicine that nourishes blood and qi. It's no poison—it'll do you good. Whether you take it or not is up to you. Rest well."
He patted Cui Buqu's shoulder, then rose to leave. The stone door rumbled shut behind him.
Feng Xiao leapt down from a shadowed corner of the stone chamber's ceiling and set about brushing the dust and cobwebs from his clothes. "He sensed me."
The interaction of qi between martial experts was subtle. Feng Xiao had concealed himself flawlessly the entire time, and Fan Yun had never once glanced toward his hiding spot. Yet he was certain Fan Yun had discovered him.
This was no surprise. Hiding in such a small room was a difficult task in the first place. Feng Xiao had been fully prepared to fight Fan Yun. But though Fan Yun had discovered him, he hadn't exposed him. Feng Xiao couldn't fathom why.
He picked up the bottle of medicine Fan Yun had left behind. Pulling out the stopper, he gave it a sniff, then replaced it and tucked the bottle into his lapels. "No matter what that old man has in mind, you'd best not touch it."
Cui Buqu watched him take the bottle without comment. "He said just now that many attempt great things despite knowing they're impossible. This was a passerby's evaluation of Confucius,1 praising him as a man of great wisdom and courage, someone who pursued his ideals in the face of insurmountable obstacles. By applying it to himself, Fan Yun is saying he has his own troubles. He seemed to hint that the pavilion leader's subordinates aren't limited to the people we're aware of—that he's holding a trump card we have yet to discover."
"Are you saying Fan Yun's a double agent, toiling away patiently in enemy territory?" Feng Xiao scoffed. "He stood back and watched as I stabbed you in the heart. What an exemplary double agent; he certainly gives the role his all!"
Cui Buqu sighed. "There's another possibility."
Feng Xiao frowned. "He's not with the Thirteen Floors, but he's not on our side either."
"Yes. He and I have known each other for many years; he knows what kind of person I am," Cui Buqu said gravely. "He's wise enough to guess that even if I submit, I would always chafe at being manipulated and am almost certain to stir up trouble."
Feng Xiao found this observation deeply amusing. "This is the first time I've seen someone so happy to call themselves a troublemaker."
Cui Buqu regarded him expressionlessly, and Feng Xiao reached out and flicked his forehead. "If your body and mind are at ease, your ailments will heal themselves. I'm just helping you recover faster. You should thank me."
A moment of tolerance would bring lasting peace. Cui Buqu closed his eyes and continued, "Since Fan Yun didn't strike at you, we can assume he won't expose you to Yuxiu and the others for now. You came to infiltrate the enemy's lair. What preparations have you made?"
This baffled Feng Xiao. "What do you mean, preparations?"
"Surely you weren't simply planning on fighting your way out alone?" Cui Buqu's voice rose slightly in exasperation, but he started coughing before he could say more.
"Yours truly is a man of peerless wisdom and courage who can take down a hundred men singlehanded. Why would I need anyone's help?" Feng Xiao asked in surprise.
A moment of tolerance would bring lasting peace… To hell with fucking peace! Cui Buqu heaved himself up to grab the empty water bowl and flung it at Feng Xiao.
Feng Xiao caught it easily and set it on the table. He smiled and said in a soothing tone, "Look at you, so irritable even when you're injured. Don't you want to get better? I've had a card up my sleeve since leaving the capital: I ordered Lao-San to bring some men and tail us. He's waiting in Raoyang, which borders Anping."
Now that he was talking sense, Cui Buqu calmed down. Even so, his outburst had induced another coughing fit.
Feng Xiao secretly found his flustered reaction hilarious. He poured another half a bowl of warm water and offered it to Cui Buqu. "I didn't know anything about Mount Tiannan either. I only sent word to Lao-San after Yuan Sansi told us about it. They should have been en route when we set off, but without anyone to guide them, so it'll take them some time to find this place. Not to mention there's the Ursa Major Twin Jade Array, which will slow them considerably. I don't imagine there's anyone other than you and Fan Yun who can break it?"
"Correct," said Cui Buqu. "They may not find us unless we create some kind of disturbance to draw them here."
"I'll think of something," said Feng Xiao. "You should get some rest. Daoist Master Cui, who knows how long you can soldier on with that broken-down body of yours? You should moderate your temper, lest you find yourself in the underworld before you've had a chance to defeat the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai."
"As long as you don't anger me, I'll be fine," said Cui Buqu coldly.
Feng Xiao blinked, then struck out with lightning speed and tapped Cui Buqu's sleep acupoint. As Cui Buqu slumped, Feng Xiao caught him and laid him down on the bed. Forced into sleep, the crease between Cui Buqu's brows remained, as if his still-spiraling thoughts rendered him unable to slumber in peace. Feng Xiao spent a minute rubbing the crease to smooth it out. It was only in moments like this that Cui Buqu looked so harmless and fragile.
But he only looked it. Not only was he possessed of a venomous tongue, this man carried in his chest a heart of stone. There was nothing he wouldn't do to achieve his goals. He had an ungovernable temper and was impossible to placate, though his ailing body was like a candle flame guttering in the wind, on the verge of going out. Even his name—Cui Buqu—had a cold and alienating air, like a mountain boulder that had weathered winds and rain, frost and snow. It did not require the understanding of strangers, nor the intimacy of potential friends.
To be cursed with the misfortune of falling in love with a man like this, the crimes of one's past life must have been unforgivable.
Yet here was Feng Xiao, handsome and dashing, a man of unparalleled elegance. The instant he opened his mouth, beauties lined up at his door. Even Feng Xiaolian, a woman captivating enough to topple nations, had desired a night with him, to say nothing of the countless other men and women who'd vied for his favor—his admirers were everywhere.
The heavens hadn't only bestowed him with uncommon beauty; they'd also gifted him with extraordinary intelligence. Growing up, whatever he wished to learn, whatever he wished to obtain, he did so while barely lifting a finger. Even the position of Fajing sect leader, one countless demonic practitioners coveted and bled for, had been tossed to him like a hot potato simply because the previous leader desired him as a successor.
Feng Xiao wasn't one of those hypocrites who remained outwardly reserved despite inward arrogance. He really did feel that in all the world's vastness, few could keep pace with him. Cui Youwang, Yan Wushi, and the other leaders of the demonic sects might be his match in martial arts, but Feng Xiao was certain that when it came to beauty and brains, he was their superior by a wide margin.
How could a man as perfect and peerless as himself fall in love with an invalid who was practically on death's doorstep? Not only did Feng Xiao refuse to believe it, if he told anyone else, he suspected they wouldn't believe it either.
Feng Xiao glanced left and right, then plucked a night pearl from the stone wall. He shone the light over Cui Buqu's face but still couldn't see anything special about it. An average nose, an average brow. The eyes and mouth were somewhat better, but only somewhat. They couldn't match even one-tenth of his splendor.
He suddenly recalled that wretched situation they'd found themselves in together outside Liugong City. Like two mountain tigers trapped on the plains, they'd fled for their lives on the border of the Gobi. At the time, they'd each had their own agendas, yet they'd put aside their differences to cooperate temporarily, huddling in that cave beneath the cliff as they waited out the blizzard and the night.
Cui Buqu had even forced Feng Xiao to call him Daddy three times. Back then, Feng Xiao had silently sworn that the moment he extricated himself, he'd make this sickly man kneel on the ground and cling to his legs while calling him Daddy in return. And what had been the result? Instead of looking down upon him in disdain, that sickly man's face, when he looked upon it, now gave him a burst of spontaneous joy.
This simply would not do.
His thoughts raced. He reached out and placed his hand on the nape of Cui Buqu's neck, his palm flush against Cui Buqu's skin. Feng Xiao could feel, beneath his warmth, the feeble pulse of his life. He slowly tightened his grip.
There was no evidence of pain in Cui Buqu's expression. He was exhausted from injury, his acupoints sealed. He'd already sunk into a deep slumber, his face now smooth and tranquil. He'd struggled over half his life, experienced what it was to wander destitute from place to place, and all there was of the kindness and callousness within people's hearts. For him, dying like this, in peace, might be a kind of relief.
This cave thronged with masters like trees in a forest. Traps lay around every corner, and danger stalked them with every step. Fan Yun, Yuxiu, and Yuan Sansi were challenge enough, to say nothing of the pavilion leader, who'd yet to reveal himself. If Feng Xiao hoped to escape unscathed, he'd need to pick his opportunities carefully. And now he also had Cui Buqu to worry about. Even if this man had hundreds of tricks up his sleeve, no amount of ideas could prevent him from being a burden in this situation.
Cui Buqu was unhealthily thin. His neck was long and slender—the slightest pressure would be sufficient to snap it.
Then Cui Buqu would no longer breathe, much less sneer at Feng Xiao, spit his cutting words, or seethe with nefarious thoughts as he sought every possible chance to screw over the Jiejian Bureau. And Feng Xiao would be as free as a bird soaring over the mountains and rivers. No longer would he have any weaknesses.
There were countless benefits to be had and no disadvantages to speak of. And yet—he couldn't do it. The reason for this could be summed up in six words: He couldn't bear to lose this.
He couldn't bear to lose the acid words that pelted him like a corrosive rain. He couldn't bear to lose the arched brow that accompanied the sneering curl of that lip. He couldn't even bear to lose the way this man said Deputy Chief Feng, in a tone that was seven parts ridicule and three parts scheming.
What on earth was so great about this invalid?! Feng Xiao withdrew his hand from Cui Buqu's neck and sighed. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the supple warmth of Cui Buqu's own, slowly exploring the contours of his mouth. Then he bit down viciously.
Had he known this would happen, he would have stabbed this man to death in the Gobi. Why else would he make such trouble for himself?