WPCID 19: I Am You

The clasp was intricately crafted, engraved with a pattern of curling vines. When the chain was retracted, it looked no different from a silver bracelet.

Lu Buzhuo fiddled with it a couple of times, seemingly quite pleased, then covered it with his sleeve and turned to continue inspecting the stove.

Shen Zhou licked his lips, feeling a bit dazed. Considering Lu Buzhuo hadn’t been normal since waking up, he let it go.

This guy had been hiding in the kitchen for ages, apparently just staring at the stove.

Curious, Shen Zhou walked over and asked, “What are you looking at?”

“It feels familiar, but not quite.” Lu Buzhuo rubbed his chin, turning to ask, “Can I cook?”

Shen Zhou: “?”

Shen Zhou: “I’m the only one who uses the kitchen in the bamboo grove.”

“I definitely can cook,” Lu Buzhuo deduced. “Check the storage ring for flour, oil, rice, or anything like that.”

Shen Zhou rummaged through and, surprisingly, found some. “You’re going to cook?”

Lu Buzhuo had already taken off his outer robe, rolling up his sleeves with evident interest. “Since we call each other partners, and you haven’t reached the stage of fasting, naturally I should cook for you.”

“…” Shen Zhou, skeptical, pulled out some flour and sugar from the storage ring. “Partners have to do all that?”

“Partners look out for each other, so of course there’s a lot to do,” Lu Buzhuo said. “Don’t like it?”

Shen Zhou fell silent, unsure how to respond.

No one had ever said they’d do anything for him.

After standing there for a moment, feeling he should contribute something, he looked around, picked up Lu Buzhuo’s discarded white fox-fur robe, and took it to the bedroom to hang up.

He then tidied the messy bedding Lu had left on the bed and grabbed some tea utensils to wash at the well.

Just as he drew water, a loud bang came from the kitchen!

His wolf ears shot up in alarm as broken tiles flew out, landing nearby, followed by a plume of smoke rising from the roof.

Shen Zhou: “!!!”

He dropped the tea utensils and rushed inside.

Lu Buzhuo was leaning against the table, covered in ash, coughing intermittently, his hair slightly singed, yet still stubbornly clutching a kneaded dough ball.

Shen Zhou dashed over, scooped him up in his arms amid Lu’s confused “hey, hey” protests, and quickly carried him back to the bedroom. He pulled out the chain, wrapped it around the bedpost twice, and tied it securely.

“Hey… my dough, you…?”

Lu Buzhuo realized he’d been hoisted up. The next moment, Shen Zhou’s nose was pressed against his, brimming with anger.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed??”

Lu Buzhuo’s hands were still dusted with flour, his face smudged with ash, yet he didn’t seem fazed. He just gazed intently at Shen Zhou, who was practically in his arms.

After staring for a while, he suddenly wiped Shen Zhou’s nose, smearing flour across his face, then leaned down to brush his lips lightly, chuckling. “So concerned about me?”

Shen Zhou hadn’t expected this reaction and was dumbfounded with anger. “If you got blown up, I’d die too… mmph.”

The chain jingled a few times. Before he could react, he was pulled onto the bed. His wolf ear was gently bitten, and soft warmth trailed from his brow, down his nose, to his lips.

“Don’t be mad,” Lu apologized quickly, though without much sincerity. “It was an accident. I’ll cook for you again once the kitchen’s fixed.”

“You still want to—mmph… no more… mm…”

“Don’t be mad, it wasn’t on purpose.” Lu’s lazy voice murmured by his ear, low and slightly hoarse, each word drawn out as if tugging at his soul. The scent of raw flour mixed with bamboo tangled between their breaths, lips brushing repeatedly.

Moments later, amid soft clinks of the chain, Lu rubbed Shen Zhou’s throat. “Open your mouth.”

The places Lu kissed tingled at first, then burned faintly, stinging like fire.

Shen Zhou frowned, discomforted, letting out a breath and turning his head, only to have his chin pulled back. He squinted, his eyes shimmering with a watery glint.

Instinctively wanting to stop it, he opened his mouth, and a warm, soft tongue slipped in, slowly grazing his palate and teeth.

…

His wolf ears drooped.

Lu Buzhuo noticed Shen Zhou wasn’t fond of prolonged kissing.

After a while, his eye corners reddened, his wolf ears fell, and his usually cold gaze melted like ice over a flame, glistening with a misty, dazed look.

Just a kiss did this—what if they dual-cultivated? Lu wondered. He deepened the kiss, biting Shen Zhou’s throat, drawing a soft whimper.

His heart clenched, fragmented memories from a past life flooding back. Shen Zhou’s eyes snapped open, struggling. “Let me go, or you’ll regret it… mmph…”

“Don’t move,” Lu said softly, pinning his wrists and casually wrapping the chain around them twice, pushing them up in one fluid motion, not even pausing to steal another kiss.

…

At that moment, Xie Xianqing had just climbed onto the roof, lifting a tile to peek inside.

One glance, and the chain dangling by the bed caught his eye. Looking closer, he saw it was locked around Lu Buzhuo’s wrist.

Xie Xianqing: “!!!”

Cursing under his breath, he reached into his sleeve, preparing to toss some medicinal powder inside to create chaos and rescue Lu Buzhuo. But his foot slipped, dislodging two tiles.

The entangled figures on the bed were instantly alerted. The demonic cultivator shoved Lu aside, charging out disheveled and furious. Lu Buzhuo, left on the bed, weakly called out “Shen Zhou,” sounding like he’d suffered greatly.

Xie Xianqing weighed his options. Going head-to-head to snatch Lu seemed risky. As a healer, he could protect himself, but saving someone was another matter.

If he failed and angered the demonic cultivator, what if they turned and tortured Lu Buzhuo?

With that in mind, he leapt lightly off the roof, scaled the wall, and fled down an alley.

As he ran, he sent a message to Chu Xuan, vividly describing what he’d seen in 500 words, embellishing for effect, urging him to hurry.

Shen Zhou returned to the room empty-handed, his face still flushed—whether from anger or something else. His wolf ears were a mess, one up, one down.

The moment he heard the noise, he’d tried to rush out, but Lu pinned his shoulders, immobilizing him until the kiss ended. Lu then wiped his lip corner, saying patronizingly, “Go on,” before letting him go.

Utterly outrageous, Shen Zhou thought coldly. Irritated, he licked his lips in frustration, tasting lingering bamboo, which heated his ears and fueled his annoyance further.

He stormed back to the bed, glaring at the culprit.

The culprit, utterly shameless, hugged the quilt innocently, muttering, “That push you gave me just now might’ve hit my head. Shen Zhou, Shen Zhou…”

Shen Zhou, exasperated, checked his forehead and found it unscathed. “Where’s the injury?”

When he was genuinely concerned, his wolf ears stood upright. So close, Lu Buzhuo rubbed them.

The ears flinched, smacking his hand away with a slap.

“Ow,” Lu Buzhuo rubbed his index finger thoughtfully, then held out the back of his hand to Shen Zhou, pouting pitifully. “Your ears are bullying me again.”

Shen Zhou: “???”

His wolf ears twitched frantically, almost speaking for themselves, finally riling him up.

Face darkening, Shen Zhou pressed his ears down and snapped at Lu Buzhuo, “Can you behave?”

“I’m already chained up—how am I not behaving?” Lu lazily shook the chain, as if he held the moral high ground, then dodged playfully. “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad. I’m a patient, be careful not to break me.”

So adaptable, so shameless.

Shen Zhou stayed silent, grabbed his bedding, and headed out.

Lu Buzhuo, sensing trouble, flopped onto the bed, whining like a soul-caller. “These past few days, my spiritual platform’s been filled with demonic energy, all dirty, making my soul uncomfortable. Shen Zhou, Shen Zhou…”

Shen Zhou sighed, returning with the bedding.

This was Shen Zhou’s third time entering Lu’s spiritual platform.

This time, he didn’t come empty-handed—he brought something from his own spiritual platform: a black starling.

Seeing such an unusual gift, Lu Buzhuo was stunned for a while, asking, “What’s this?”

“A bird,” Shen Zhou said, raising his arm to prompt it. “Speak.”

“Hello, hello, partner, partner,” the starling said.

Lu Buzhuo: “…”

Thinking Lu liked it, Shen Zhou gestured for the bird to fly over. “Your spiritual platform is empty, barren—not good.”

The starling flapped its wings, landing obediently on Lu’s hand.

Lu Buzhuo looked down at it, then touched it, his fingertips brushing warm, soft feathers. His heart softened, like cotton soaked in vinegar.

Everything in a spiritual platform comes from the heart. Those who fear loneliness create lively things.

A half-demon, a demonic cultivator… Shen Zhou’s past must have been like a long snowy night, with passersby like fierce winds and snow, terrifying and vast, leaving him no one to talk to, so he created this little thing.

“I love it, thank you,” Lu Buzhuo said.

Shen Zhou flicked his nonexistent wolf ears, showing no reaction, as if it were only natural. He sat down in a corner and began absorbing demonic energy.

After Shen Zhou left, Lu Buzhuo’s consciousness lingered in the spiritual platform, idly playing with the starling, as if waiting for something.

Soon, a translucent shadow appeared in the grotto.

“Why did the soul-locking array suddenly strengthen?” the shadow said casually, unbothered by being suppressed, speaking as if making small talk. “That half-demon was here?”

Lu Buzhuo flicked the starling’s beak, not even lifting his eyes. “Whether he comes or not, what’s it to you?”

“It’s nothing to me—I’m just a prisoner now. So why’d you call me out?”

“Some things came to mind. I’m asking you.”

The shadow gestured, indicating he’d answer anything.

“What are you?”

“Me?” The shadow laughed, as if hearing something hilarious. “Since you haven’t forgotten how to draw talismans and set arrays, how could you not recognize the array in your spiritual platform as a soul-locking one? It locks souls, and a soul’s form can’t be faked. Who am I? Don’t you already know?”

Lu Buzhuo didn’t speak, but the answer was clear in his heart.

It wasn’t a pleasant one.

“I’m the soul and spirit you ruthlessly cast aside,” the shadow said, grinning wider, leaning in with undisguised malice, enunciating each word. “I am you, Lu Buzhuo.”