WPCID 20: The Age to Find a Partner

The shadow observed Lu Buzhuo’s expression, about to say more, but Lu raised two fingers, ready to seal him back.

“Wait! Hold on,” the shadow said, startled. “You don’t have anything else to ask?”

“Don’t want to ask,” Lu Buzhuo replied listlessly, glancing at him in a foul mood. “Get lost.”

The shadow hurriedly added, “Don’t you want to know why you lost your memories?”

Lu Buzhuo’s hand paused.

The shadow regained composure, his gaze falling on Lu’s raised wrist, scanning the surroundings. “You’ve forgotten so thoroughly, yet you stay in this place. This grotto was originally a prison, and those chains on your wrist were forged from my demonic energy…”

“Not asking about that,” Lu Buzhuo cut in. “Get to the point.”

“Fine, fine.” The shadow spread his hands. “A while back, you broke free from the restraints, reversed your cultivation into your spiritual platform, and set up thirty-six soul-locking arrays to seal me. The shock from that damaged your soul, causing your memory loss.”

“…”

“But as a part of your soul, I share all your memories one-sidedly. Want to recover them? I can help. How about a deal?”

Lu Buzhuo ignored the noisy figure, sealed him back, and left the spiritual platform.

This residence was much larger than the bamboo grove.

Learning from past mistakes, Shen Zhou diligently patrolled every day, checking every corner, even the roof.

Lu Buzhuo, sleeves gathered, leaned against the door, watching him climb up and down as if it were something novel. Sometimes, on a whim, he’d drag a ladder to join him on the roof.

If Shen Zhou moved too fast, Lu would call him back, then leisurely climb down the ladder.

Shen Zhou once tried to ditch him.

Then he saw Lu Buzhuo sitting on the roof, refusing to come down, watching him pace the courtyard, sighing mournfully and letting the wind blow, making Shen Zhou lose all patience.

He had to climb up and bring him down himself.

To prevent his partner from being stolen, Shen Zhou locked Lu up before going out to buy fresh food.

Lu Buzhuo was surprisingly compliant, letting himself be locked up without complaint, staying inside to study a cookbook.

This worked well—no more kitchen explosions, though everything he made was either burnt, too salty, or too bland.

Clearly, he had no talent for it.

Life was unusually peaceful.

Every night before bed, after Lu applied ointment to Shen Zhou’s wolf ears, Shen Zhou would enter Lu’s spiritual platform to absorb demonic energy, then let his ears be rubbed a couple of times.

Afterward, Lu always liked to kiss the wolf ears—sometimes with his lips—before going to sleep.

These days, the wolf ears received more affection than in both of Shen Zhou’s lives combined, and he felt the same.

On restless nights, when he quietly rolled over, a soft “Shen Zhou” would sound behind him, followed by a question about what was wrong, then an invitation to the roof for drinks.

After drinking, Lu Buzhuo would get chatty, rambling about constellations or talisman-drawing, half-dreamlike, with a soft, pleasant accent.

Shen Zhou, lazily tipsy, stopped asking why Lu remembered this or that. Drunk and nestled in the bamboo-scented lap, wine cups clinking softly, the breeze made him feel untethered from the world.

“Is this something partners do too?” he asked quietly.

Lu Buzhuo didn’t answer, just leaned down to kiss him, the lingering wine aroma dissolving ambiguous pasts, coaxing the inexperienced boy into a daze.

The wolf ears rarely drooped anymore, always perky, wagging nonstop at the sight of Lu Buzhuo.

Something broke through quietly in his heart, sprouting and growing rapidly, enveloping his entire being, pulsing with each heartbeat.

He couldn’t name it—something more ambitious than the desire to survive, something that hadn’t sprouted in two lifetimes. A drop of sweetness made it grow recklessly, urging him to act.

Shen Zhou pondered for a long time.

One day, he caught Lu Buzhuo secretly dumping a ruined dish at the back door, and inspiration struck.

“What’s this?” he asked, stopping him and pointing at the pitiful-looking dish.

Lu Buzhuo: “…Scrambled eggs with loofah.”

Shen Zhou picked it up, ate it, and wiped his mouth. “Delicious.”

Lu Buzhuo: “???!”

Shen Zhou glanced at him. “Not allowed to eat it?”

“You can, but…” Lu Buzhuo’s face was three parts doubt, seven parts confusion. “Is it really delicious?”

“Anything you make is delicious,” Shen Zhou affirmed.

Lu Buzhuo was stunned. Good heavens, those words from Shen Zhou’s mouth were practically a love confession.

Unsure of Shen Zhou’s intentions, he cautiously stayed silent, only to see Shen Zhou observe him for a moment, then walk off happily.

Lu Buzhuo: “?”

From that day, surprises kept coming.

Like being randomly pinned and kissed anywhere.

At first, Lu Buzhuo was caught off guard, nearly having his waistband undone in the kitchen, fleeing in a panic.

Or when Shen Zhou, after absorbing demonic energy, stayed overnight in his spiritual platform.

Lu Buzhuo, half-asleep, opened his eyes to find a shadowy figure with ears sleeping beside his soul. Realizing it was Shen Zhou, he coaxed and tricked him out.

…

That day.

After wasting over thirty eggs, Lu Buzhuo finally made a decent-looking plate of scrambled eggs, quite pleased.

No more worrying about Shen Zhou eating garbage.

A while later, Shen Zhou strolled into the kitchen, devoured the eggs in a few bites, wagged his wolf ears, and suddenly said, “Lu Buzhuo.”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to dual-cultivate with me?”

Clang!

Lu Buzhuo dropped the iron wok on his foot.

At the Taiping Branch.

Since nearly being caught last time, Xie Xianqing hadn’t acted rashly, waiting patiently at the branch, occasionally checking to ensure they were still alive.

Day and night, he waited, hoping for stars and moon, until Chu Xuan finally arrived, travel-worn.

“What’s the situation?” Chu Xuan asked.

Xie Xianqing said gravely, “His purity’s gone. Just charge in and kill.”

“…” Chu Xuan paused. “Senior Brother’s at the age to find a partner. It’s understandable.”

Xie Xianqing: “It’s a demonic cultivator! A demonic cultivator!!”

Chu Xuan fell silent again, seemingly searching for an excuse.

After a while, he said solemnly, “Kill him and find another. What’s this about purity?”

Xie Xianqing gave up.

“They’re drinking on the roof at night, stargazing, kissing,” he reminded. “Inseparable.”

Chu Xuan looked at him. “Didn’t you say Senior Brother was chained to the bed, suffering terribly?”

“He was chained, but Lu Buzhuo seemed quite willing. Sometimes when the demonic cultivator forgot to lock him up, he’d call him back. I was too embarrassed to show myself,” Xie Xianqing tsked. “What’s going on? Back then, when I tied him up to force-feed medicine, he’d throw ten light-body talismans at me.”

“…”

“I’m telling you, don’t go in swords blazing,” Xie Xianqing said, exuding experience as he snapped open his fan, waving it with flair. “Lu Buzhuo’s completely devoted to that demonic cultivator now. If you barge in and kill him, I’m afraid Xiaoyin Peak will implode.”

“…”

Xie Xianqing got more animated. “Sword cultivators don’t know subtlety or tact, always fighting and killing, either you kill me or I kill you… Hey, hey, why’re you digging in my pockets!”

“Drugs,” Chu Xuan said. “Subtlety.”

“Oh. What kind do you want?” Xie Xianqing eagerly pulled out vials. “This one can disable anyone below the Tribulation stage, this one can paralyze a Great Vehicle cultivator, and this one seals the throat with blood…”

Chu Xuan smacked the vials back with his sword hilt.

“Wait, wait…” Xie Xianqing kept digging, pulling a vial from a corner. “I think I have a sedative…”

Chu Xuan took it. “Can’t you refine more normal drugs?”

“I do!” Xie Xianqing bristled. “Didn’t you eat all the normal ones, Sect Leader?”

Chu Xuan didn’t bother arguing, taking the vial and leaving. “We’ll talk when I’m back.”

Xie Xianqing rolled his eyes, putting away the chaotic assortment of vials. At the last one, he paused, opened the cap, and sniffed, his face turning green.

This was the sedative.

The one from the corner, the one he’d given Chu Xuan, was probably… likely… an aphrodisiac he’d secretly refined and forgotten about.