WPCID 29: I’m truly happy for you.

Xie Xianqing, completely oblivious to what was happening outside, spent a long time fussing in the kitchen. Finally, he threw a large handful of nourishing medicinal herbs into the pot, covered it with a lid, dusted off his sleeves, and sauntered out to claim credit from Chu Xuan.

As he stepped out, he saw Sect Leader Chu sitting under a tree, hugging his sword and looking as if all his three souls and seven spirits had deserted him.

Xie Xianqing glanced left and right but didn’t see Lu Buzhuo. He figured the two martial brothers must have had a fight and, fanning himself, moved closer with the intention of squatting down to ask what was wrong.

Just as he lifted the hem of his robe, Chu Xuan jolted as if struck by lightning and, with astonishing speed, helped him up.

Xie Xianqing: “…??”

Chu Xuan let go, looking dazed. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

“…What’s wrong with it being me?” Xie Xianqing was baffled. 

“What happened? Where’s Lu Buzhuo?”

Chu Xuan was still out of it, his answer completely missing the point. 

“Is the chicken ready?”

“It’s almost ready, needs to simmer for another half an hour.” Xie Xianqing steered the conversation back to his original question. 

“Where is your Senior Brother? This mortal stove is truly difficult to use. Get him to draw a fire control formation, otherwise it’ll burn.”

“Oh.” Chu Xuan got up dazedly, clutching his sword. 

“It’s ready, then. Let’s go.”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Xie Xianqing stuck his arm out, trying to stop him, but the man walked straight into it.

First, the sword hilt bumped gently against his chest, followed by the person.

The sensation was solid. A dull pressure spread across his chest, followed by a weight on his shoulder as someone’s forehead bumped against it, not too hard, but with a sense of extreme vexation.

The impact nearly knocked the soul out of Xie Xianqing as well.

After a moment, he awkwardly reached out a hand to touch Chu Xuan’s waist.

A hair’s breadth away, the person in his arms shifted, pushing away half a step with a hand against his chest.

“I was distracted just now.” Chu Xuan glanced at his shoulder. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? How’s the chicken?”

Xie Xianqing: “…”

Xie Xianqing: “No. I’m fine, and the chicken is fine. Would you like to check if it’s seasoned enough?”

Chu Xuan, suspecting nothing, replied, “Alright.”

The two of them went to the kitchen together to check the seasoning.

Lu Buzhuo was also dealing with a bit of a situation.

After scaring the wits out of Sect Leader Chu, a certain Mr. Lu got up, dusted himself off, and strolled back to his room.

He hadn’t actually intended to force Chu Xuan into giving a definite promise like “I won’t kill the demonic cultivator.” That would be asking too much; the man was the Sect Leader of Kunlun墟, after all.

As long as Chu Xuan said nothing, that was enough.

Most of the time, an ambiguous attitude signifies tacit approval. This ambiguity would be Shen Zhou’s basis for staying.

His dao companion had nowhere else to go, so he would kneel to create a place for him.

Having accomplished a great deed, Lu Buzhuo was in a rather good mood—until he searched the room twice and couldn’t find Shen Zhou.

Lu Buzhuo: “?”

He made another round, still nothing.

Finally, he drew a tracking talisman. The paper talisman circled around before slapping itself onto the wardrobe with a thwack. The wardrobe doors swung open in response.

A cascade of disheveled clothes spilled out, piling up by his feet. Tucked amongst them was a pair of wolf ears that were almost completely buried.

Lu Buzhuo: “.”

Lu Buzhuo bent down and rummaged for a bit, then pulled out his thoroughly asleep dao companion. He noticed a faint, dried trace of blood at the corner of the other’s mouth.

…

Shen Zhou was kissed awake.

The side of his neck was caressed by fingertips. He subconsciously opened his mouth and took in a breath of bamboo-scented air tinged with the taste of blood.

“Mmm… mm-hmm…”

“Don’t move,” the other person said softly. His voice was gentle, but the force of his hand was not. He cupped Shen Zhou’s face and kissed him deeply, even letting out a low chuckle during a pause for breath, though it was unclear what he found so amusing. 

“You messed up my clothes, so naturally I have to collect some compensation.”

In his current state, Shen Zhou couldn’t understand these roundabout words. He frowned and pushed hard against the other’s face.

Lu Buzhuo was pushed away.

“Ouch,” he said, falling back onto the bed.

Shen Zhou was about to escape, but he hesitated upon hearing that sound.

After a moment, he returned to the bedside.

His thoughts were a chaotic mess due to the demonic energy. He looked at Lu Buzhuo in confusion, feeling that he should hate this person, but he didn’t seem to hate him very much.

So, he decided to take a closer look.

As he climbed onto the bed, he accidentally bumped the cord, and the bed curtains fell, closing behind him. They blocked out the light, casting a dim, tranquil quiet over the bed.

Lu Buzhuo lay within, the ends of his hair scattered on the pillow, watching him with a languid expression. The faint glint in his eyes was like a hook.

He was like a patch of snow trapped in a cage, within reach.

Shen Zhou was mesmerized.

Suddenly, as if reaching an epiphany, an almost violent possessiveness surfaced in his eyes. He leaned in and, to Lu Buzhuo’s slightly surprised expression, pressed down on his shoulders and lowered his head for a kiss.

It was a fierce kiss, a near-unpracticed tearing and biting. When he tasted blood, he swallowed it down.

After his initial surprise, Lu Buzhuo found himself enjoying it. One hand gently supported him while the other kneaded the back of his neck with moderate pressure. When he found a moment, he would whisper “Shen Zhou,” only to have his voice smothered again.

A long while later, Shen Zhou lifted his head and licked his lips in satisfaction, his voice hoarse. 

“Mine.”

Lu Buzhuo wiped his bitten lip with a fingertip and raised an eyebrow. 

“Satisfied?”

Shen Zhou nodded.

“Then it’s my turn,” said a certain Mr. Lu.

The wolf ears twitched alertly.

…

… …

The bed curtains never managed to be hung up again. The wolf ears became damp, sweat trickled from his temples past his chin, and Shen Zhou could barely open his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Xie Xianqing pushed it open.

“The chicken is ready. We were waiting and waiting for you in the kitchen but you never came… uh, are you busy?”

Shen Zhou, tainted by demonic energy, was much more irritable than usual. He wasn’t very good at speaking either. He would bite when he was uncomfortable, and he would also bite when he was comfortable.

Unfortunately for Lu Buzhuo, he was bitten again. He drew a sharp breath and, having no time to deal with the two at the door, said in a low voice, “I told you to be gentle.”

Chu Xuan: “Senior Brother…”

Xie Xianqing turned and shoved the chicken soup into Chu Xuan’s hands. 

“I just remembered I didn’t add salt. Let’s go, let’s go.”

Behind the jade-inlaid screen, upon hearing “Senior Brother,” Shen Zhou’s wolf ears shot up, and an inexplicable surge of irritation rose in his heart.

A moment later, he pushed Lu Buzhuo away and nimbly tried to slip out through the gap in the curtains.

With quick eyes and even quicker hands, Lu Buzhuo snatched his dao companion back. 

“?”

The corners of Shen Zhou’s eyes were still slightly red, but they were now filled with killing intent. His clothes were draped haphazardly over his body as he fumbled for a sword from his storage ring.

“Kill… him die…” he even patiently explained to the bamboo-scented one.

Lu Buzhuo, also having thrown on some clothes, pressed down on the sword. 

“No.”

The wolf ears shook angrily.

“Mine,” Shen Zhou pointed at the bite marks on his body, emphasizing, “Mine. He dies.”

“Even if he doesn’t die, I’m still yours.” Lu Buzhuo, having mastered another language besides Ear-speak, was happily translating.

Shen Zhou still felt irritated, but since the bamboo-scented one had spoken, he had to acquiesce a little.

He nodded reluctantly, temporarily suppressing his murderous intent.

It was exhausting to dredge up so many words from his demonic-energy-addled thoughts. He leaned wearily into the bamboo-scented one’s embrace, and soon his breathing became long and even.

It was half an hour later when a respectably dressed and dapper Lu Buzhuo appeared in the kitchen.

Chu Xuan was not there.

The moment Xie Xianqing saw him, he came forward and slung an arm chummily around his shoulders, pushing his collar down by half an inch. Seeing the marks underneath, his eyes immediately filled with a thirst for medical knowledge. 

“Tell me, is soybean powder really that effective?”

Lu Buzhuo pulled his collar back up and turned his head. 

“…What soybean powder?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Xie Xianqing elegantly snapped his fan open with a swish. 

“I came across a marvelous incident a few days ago. Your little half-demon ran to the side of the medical hall, saying you couldn’t dual-cultivate anymore and wanted to buy some medicine to treat you. I happened to be passing by and gave him a packet of soybean powder. Who would have thought, he came back that very day to thank me, saying the medicine was incredibly effective. Isn’t that a marvelous story?”

Lu Buzhuo: “…?”

The memory of that strange-tasting ginger tea gradually surfaced in his mind. Lu Buzhuo’s face changed color, from red to white, then to green, a spectacular display.

“That was… soybean powder??”

“Mmm~ A medical miracle.” Xie Xianqing stroked his fan as if applauding. 

“I thought about it for a long time and couldn’t figure it out, but now it seems the effect is quite remarkable. I’m truly happy for you.”

Lu Buzhuo: “… …”

Lu Buzhuo was so happy his face turned green.