without leaving a trace. Others quietly reached the end of their journey in a desolate place like this one, where only a handful of strangers--each harbouring their own secrets--saw him off on his cold and bleak journey to the netherworld with nothing to say. Every day, there would be youths who were ecstatic at being a step closer to achieving their dreams; every day, there would also be someone who passed on.
Thus, the three of them stayed at the Puppet Manor. Wen Kexing found a large boulder and erected it in front of the little cell, which walls had been blackened by soot. On it, he first carved the date "The eighth day of the twelfth month of the fifty-third year", and claimed that he wanted to take his time writing, till spring came the next year.
Zhou Zishu scoffed without comment, but Zhang Chengling silently rejoiced upon hearing this--a day ago, he had still felt that this place was heavily boobytrapped, and there was no corner of it that was not sinister. Now, however, he felt that this place was like a paradise outside of the mortal world. He didn't have to fight for his life, nor did he have to flee from people hunting him down. Every day, all he had to do was practice martial arts, space out, and suffer his shifu's scoldings...anyway, since his shifu couldn't really chop his head off to use it as a chamberpot, he could scold him however. One fretted less about bills the more they piled up, and one's skin grew thicker the more he was reprimanded--this had always been the one true axiom since ancient times.
There were still a few rooms next to the cell. Some of them were guest rooms, while others looked like servants' quarters, though as they had not been lived in for many years, they had become hopelessly run-down. To demonstrate his filial piety, Zhang Chengling hurried about to clean them--although they were still unsightly, the few of them were used to sleeping rough in the wild, and made do as such.
That night, just as Zhou Zishu had lain down and was drifting off to sleep, he heard the bedroom door creak open. A thread of cold wind rushed in, and the door was quickly closed once more by that person. At that moment, Zhou Zishu was instantly wide awake and lost all trace of drowsiness. Yet, for some unknown reason, he did not open his eyes, as though he was entirely indifferent.
Wen Kexing was hugging his blankets to himself, his smile scummy and lecherous as he stood by his bed and said, "My room is impossible to stay in, there's a puppet in the wall corner with its head covered in cobwebs. It looks like a little tyke, once I open my eyes while lying on the bed, I'm having a staring contest with it…"
Eyes closed, Zhou Zishu interrupted him, "You can turn him around."
Wen Kexing set down the blankets in his arms and said, "I have no interest in puppet butts. Move in a little, make some space for me."
Zhou Zishu didn't say anything else, and played dead.
Wen Kexing lectured, "A-Xu, a person must have compassion for others. You keep saying that you want to do good deeds and accumulate merits, but you're unwilling to even share half of your bed with me after we've been through life-and-death situations together, intimate as we are. Is that proper?"
Zhou Zishu opened his eyes and cast a sidelong glance at him. He said, "I didn't feel it was proper just now, but right now, I feel that it's very proper…"
Abruptly, he stopped talking--because Wen Kexing had decided to move faster than his brain could think, and got to work. Stuffing his arms under Zhou Zishu's knees and shoulders, Wen Kexing lifted him, nudged him inwards by three inches, and then joyously planted his own butt down, lying down like a cuckoo that had taken over a magpie's nest.
Once done, he even let out a sigh of deep satisfaction.
At the outset, the bed was not small, but once Wen Kexing had squeezed himself onto it, Zhou Zishu felt that even turning over was difficult. Imperceptibly, his whole body went rigid. Trying hard to pretend as if it was nothing, Zhou Zishu turned over and presented Wen Kexing with his back, and stuffed himself into the blankets as though he couldn't wait to fall asleep. But he had opened his eyes in the instant he had flipped himself over, and now, he felt like he could not close them no matter what.
Wen Kexing seemed to find his bed exceptionally comfortable. One moment he was turning over, and the next he was shifting around like a huge monkey scratching itself. It just so happened that this space was only so small, that a single fart from the other person could shake the bed frame like a small earthquake; able to sense every movement of his, Zhou Zishu suddenly felt a sense of irritation rise within him, and wished that he could kick him off the bed.
After a while, Wen Kexing finally quietened down. Zhou Zishu forced himself to close his eyes, attempting to ignore the person behind him, but he heard Wen Kexing suddenly say, "A-Xu…"
Zhou Zishu ignored him. Then he heard the shuffle of hair against the pillow--that person had probably turned his head back to gaze at his back. Once the thought came, he felt uneasy all along his back, as though there was a little insect crawling along it. Wen Kexing paused. Discovering that Zhou Zishu had no intention of answering him, he extended a claw of Lushan, rested it lightly on the side of Zhou Zishu's waist, and called softly once more, "A-Xu…"
Instantly, Zhou Zishu's hair stood on their ends. Whipping around in anger, he cursed, "Are you going to sleep? If you aren't, scram, and go chatter at that puppet back in your own room!"
Wen Kexing pillowed his head on his own bent arm. Face turned to the side, he looked at Zhou Zishu, and said with a justified air, "I'm here, but you're going to sleep without saying anything. Don't you know that I have indecent designs on you?"
Inwardly, Zhou Zishu opined that this person had reached such a state of shamelessness that it had no pioneers before him nor would there be any successors after him, and truly could not think of anything to say to him. That paw that Wen Kexing had placed on his waist seemed to faithfully stay where it was, but his fingertips were sporadically caressing the spot. Reflexively, Zhou Zishu thought about slapping his hand away, but one glance at Wen Kexing's fearlessly insouciant demeanour changed his mind. He flipped himself over, lay down with the clear intention of sleeping like the dead, and left him a sentence, "Do as you like."
And, with incomparable willpower, went back to acting like a corpse.
Wen Kexing pestered him for a while more, and upon seeing that Zhou Zishu was indeed a rare expert with an abundance of willpower, he chuckled soundlessly behind his back, and lightly shut his eyes.
Halfway through the night, Wen Kexing abruptly sensed the person beside him twitch most lightly. He woke immediately, knowing that midnight had come.
Perhaps it was the cold weather, and the blankets were not insulating enough--as they slept, they had rolled towards each other. Zhou Zishu's back was slightly curved, making him look as though he was nestled in Wen Kexing's embrace. In the latter half of every night, Zhou Zishu could never fall asleep, and he was long used to this. However, when he opened his eyes and heard someone else breathing next to him, he recalled that there was still such a person beside him. Feeling a little awkward himself, he wanted to shift away unnoticed, but the two internal injuries he had suffered prevented him from summoning the energy to do so. Left with no choice, he gritted his teeth tightly and bore it.
Wen Kexing's brow furrowed. Tightening his arm, he lifted his upper body slightly, and freed a hand to rest it on Zhou Zishu's back. Yet, he did not dare to act rashly, and merely asked in a soft voice, "What is it, does it hurt?"
Zhou Zishu did not say anything, but unconsciously hunched his back even further, his fingers tightening in the sheets--every night, it was this while at midnight when the pain alternated that hurt the most. Once he pulled through it, he could meditate on his own, and tolerate it better.
He closed his eyes. In the coldest of winter nights, sweat beaded finely at the sides of his forehead. He tried his best to slow his breathing and steady it, but even so, Wen Kexing could still hear the unsteady tremble to his breaths.
He quietly pulled Zhou Zishu into his embrace by the shoulders and back. His other arm encircled his waist to let Zhou Zishu rest his head against his chest, and, as though he was hugging a child in the throes of a nightmare, Wen Kexing gently stroked his back to soothe him.
For this rare once, Zhou Zishu acquiesced.
At that moment, they were both awake, but they were both silent. As the neverending night glided past by the window, time and pain seemed incomparably protracted, so protracted that...it demanded to be carved deep into bone as a memory.
Inwardly, Zhou Zishu was a little stupefied. In the day, they purposely pulled dirty tricks on each other to undermine the other party, but in the night, they were like this, as though they only had each other. Wasn't this very erratic?