WPCID 32: The Dao Companion was already someone else’s Senior Brother

When Lu Buzhu returned, the scents on his body were a chaotic mess.

…

The wolf ears drooped so low they nearly touched the back of his neck.

Shen Zhou blocked him at the door with a cold face. Staring at his Dao Companion, who was bewildered and had no idea what he’d done wrong, he suddenly reached out, grabbed his lapels, and yanked them apart forcefully.

Lu Buzhu: “???!”

Xie Xianqing, who hadn’t managed to leave yet: “…”

Lu Buzhu reacted with lightning speed. He shoved the nuisance beside him away with an elbow, shut the door, and slid the bolt, all in one smooth motion.

After a loud bang.

A sarcastic voice drifted in from outside the door: “Need any soybean flour?”

“No need.” Lu Buzhu calmly straightened his clothes, only to be dragged back into the room by Shen Zhou, pushed and shoved all the way to the bed. 

“Hey… you, wait, wait…”

Shen Zhou turned a deaf ear, focused on stripping his clothes.

The bite marks on his body were gone, replaced by patches of medicinal plaster that reeked of herbs. Near several major acupoints on his back lingered the faint scent of flowers and herbs, as if he had been treated with some kind of fumigation.

There was even a speck of some unknown brown residue at the corner of his lips. Shen Zhou leaned in for a taste; it was bitter.

He then went to inspect the outer robe that had been tossed aside.

His fingertips had just touched the corner of the robe when his hand was caught and gently pulled over. He turned his head and was met with a kiss.

The lingering taste of medicinal soup swirled on the tip of his tongue. It was so bitter that Shen Zhou frowned, unhappily pushing the man away and turning his head to the side.

At times like these, Lu Buzhu was always relentless. He toyed with Shen Zhou’s chin, signaling for him to turn back on his own.

Seeing no movement from Shen Zhou, he lowered his head to bite his earlobe, pecking gently at the side of his face. Then, he bent his thumb to hold his jaw, preventing Shen Zhou from dodging again, and recaptured his slightly parted lips.

But Shen Zhou couldn’t smell even a hint of bamboo.

…The window had been closed at some point. His neck had been pecked a few times, his lapels had been pushed slightly open, and his wrists had been pinned behind his back.

The wolf ears twitched anxiously.

“No.” Shen Zhou pushed the man away again, refusing sternly. 

“Don’t like… yours…”

“…?” Lu Buzhu blinked, somewhat stunned. He released his grip and murmured, “You’re saying ‘don’t like’ at a time like this?”

His willow-like eyes lowered, looking at Shen Zhou with a gaze that was very hard to refuse.

Shen Zhou was unmoved. He nodded, climbed off, and left.

A moment later, he returned with a box of medicine. Under his Dao Companion’s bewildered, disappointed, and utterly baffled gaze, he pinched the corner of a medicinal plaster on his wrist and ripped it off with a sharp tug—taking the scab and blood with it.

Lu Buzhu: “!”

The move was so sudden and unexpected that the pain forced a muffled grunt from him. Any sultry thoughts of daytime dual cultivation vanished instantly, leaving only a fine, long, and continuous pain that stabbed straight into his heart.

After finally recovering, he looked up to see Shen Zhou approaching again. He subconsciously covered the other plaster and slowly backed away. 

“Shen Zhou?”

Shen Zhou grabbed him, his expression ruthless. 

“Endure.”

Lu Buzhu: “.”

He turned to flee, but the other man’s strength was immense. In a flash, he was pinned to the bed by his own Dao Companion, who then proceeded with great vigor to rip off all the medicinal plasters with a series of sharp sounds.

…

Just a wall away.

Chu Xuan, who was polishing his sword under a tree, suddenly looked up. After a moment, he said hesitantly, “Xie Xianqing, did you hear Senior Brother’s… miserable cry?”

“Mhm.” Xie Xianqing continued grinding herbs with composure. 

“Sounds like he and that demonic cultivator are in perfect harmony.”

“…Perfect harmony?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Xie Xianqing said. 

“Demonic cultivators have always been brutal. Since he insisted on being the man’s Dao Companion, a little noise like this is nothing. I’ll just make some more plasters and send them over later.”

Chu Xuan frowned, seemingly not quite agreeing with his statement.

After a moment, he put down his sword and went over to take the pestle. 

“Let me help.”

The other man’s pinky finger inadvertently brushed against the back of his hand. Xie Xianqing’s mind drifted for a second, and by the time he came back to his senses, it was too late. 

“Don’t touch—”

The mortar shattered into eight pieces with a crash.

Lu Buzhu had fainted for a short while.

When he woke up, he found his body slathered with a magnolia-scented ointment. The culprit was sitting cross-legged beside him, wolf ears drooping, still looking unhappy.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. He closed his eyes again for a moment, then rolled over and rested his head on Shen Zhou’s lap. 

“You don’t like the smell of medicine on me?” he asked softly, with a tone of understanding.

Shen Zhou paused, thought it over carefully, but couldn’t distinguish the subtle difference between “medicine smell” and “scent,” so he just hummed a low “mhm.”

After humming, he fell silent, looking at the Dao Companion resting on his lap with a hint of novelty.

He was light, with a deep, comforting warmth. His breathing was vivid, his eyelashes trembled from time to time, and when he spoke, his eyes would open slightly to glance up at him, a crescent moon of light hooking in their depths. He was gentle and patient, without a trace of irritation from being tormented.

After watching for a moment, he slowly reached out and placed his hands on Lu Buzhu’s temples, cupping his head slightly.

Not heavy.

It seemed that a long, long time ago, he had held it in his hands just like this, but the brows, eyes, nose, and lips had all been still. They didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He didn’t like it like that.

…Had he forgotten something?

Shen Zhou pondered.

Then, his chin was scratched twice.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll use less of it in the future,” Lu Buzhu said. He then scratched his Dao Companion’s sharp, handsome jawline and lazily patted the knee his head was resting on. 

“The plasters are ripped off for you, and the smell is covered. Can you like me now?”

Shen Zhou looked at him without expression.

Lu Buzhu: “What else don’t you like? I’ll change it.”

Shen Zhou pointed to the robe hanging on the screen, the one filled with all sorts of unfamiliar scents.

Lu Buzhu climbed up, casually picked up the torn-off plasters, drew a fire talisman on them, and tossed them onto the robe.

The robe burst into flames, turning to ash in an instant.

“How about now?”

Now Shen Zhou couldn’t find any fault. He grudgingly decided to continue liking him for a bit, leaning over to nibble on his lip, breaking the wound left from yesterday and sucking a little blood.

Just as he was feeling satisfied, his wolf ear was suddenly lifted.

“Since you like me now, can this perk up a little?” His Dao Companion’s voice was low and gentle, each word tapping against his ear. He even blew a mischievous breath of air.

The wolf ear didn’t perk up; it folded from the ticklish sensation.

A moment later, one ear stood up. Shen Zhou shot the other man a defiant sidelong glance. I don’t like you completely yet, it meant.

“What will it take for them to both perk up?” the other man asked with sincere curiosity.

“Don’t go out,” Shen Zhou said.

Lu Buzhu naturally assumed Shen Zhou meant he wasn’t allowed to go out today.

Coincidentally, he had no plans to go out again anyway.

“Alright.”

The wolf ears finally perked up.

But they soon drooped down again, pulling over the pillow and leaving behind a chaotic, damp stain.

…

The next day.

Lu Buzhu was stopped at the courtyard gate.

“Don’t go out,” Shen Zhou accused, his wolf ears twitching anxiously. 

“You said, don’t go out.”

“Not today either?” Lu Buzhu didn’t pay it much mind. He called over the wall to Xie Xianqing, telling him he wouldn’t be coming over today and asking him to prepare Shen Zhou’s food and bring it over.

It was the same on the third day.

And the fourth day…

After being unable to leave for five consecutive days, Lu Buzhu finally realized the severity of the situation—Shen Zhou was becoming increasingly clingy.

Was this some side effect of the demonic energy’s corrosion?

On second thought, he felt relieved: with so much demonic energy entwined in his soul, it was natural for him to feel uncomfortable and throw a little tantrum. He just needed to be coaxed a bit more.

And so, he coaxed him even more diligently.

On this day.

Xie Xianqing came to deliver their meal. After dropping it off, he didn’t leave, but leaned against the doorway and knocked, signaling for Lu Buzhu not to go just yet.

Chu Xuan followed behind him, looking like he wanted to say something but also desperate to escape.

“I’m telling you,” Xie Xianqing said brazenly, “don’t you think that demonic cultivator is treating you like his kept man? Sect Master Chu is very worried about you.”

Chu Xuan: “…” nearly crushed his sword hilt.

Lu Buzhu, holding the food container, slowly scanned the two of them and raised an eyebrow. 

“Kept… man?”

Seeing his expression, Xie Xianqing knew his words were wasted. He tactfully stopped there and didn’t mention that Chu Xuan was due to return to Kunlun Ruins in two days.

His expression turned slightly more serious. 

“I don’t care about the other stuff; Kunlun Ruins doesn’t have that many rules. But your soul is incomplete. You should have been coming to my place every day for elixirs and medicated fumigation to recuperate. Since you won’t come, I can only move my things over here. Make some room for me.”

“Fine. There’s an empty storage room on the west side, but it’s a bit small…” Lu Buzhu pondered where he could find a place that would both avoid Shen Zhou and be large enough for Xie Xianqing’s countless bottles and jars, as well as a bed for fumigation therapy.

Suddenly, the food container in his hand felt lighter.

He saw Xie Xianqing bend down, lift out a bowl of steaming, bitter-smelling medicinal soup, and thrust it forward. His expression brightened again. 

“No rush. First, drink the doses you’ve missed from the past few days. There are three more bowls at the bottom, not a single sip can be missed.”

Chu Xuan stood silently to the side, but he looked to be in full agreement.

Lu Buzhu’s eyelid twitched. After a moment, he put on a harmless smile and tried to bargain, “Can I just drink one bowl?”

Xie Xianqing also smiled. 

“No.”

Lu Buzhu set down the food container, turned, and walked away.

With a quick hand, Xie Xianqing hooked an arm around his shoulder, yanked him back, and pressed the bowl to his lips, assuming the posture of someone about to force-feed him. 

“Still trying to run? I’ve breached all thirty-six of your hiding spots on Xiaoyin Peak. Where can you possibly hide in this little courtyard? Drink!”

Lu Buzhu’s face was more bitter than the medicine. 

“Four bowls, spare me…”

Suddenly, a black shadow shot out from the side without a sound. It grabbed Xie Xianqing’s wrist, twisted it sharply, and knocked the bowl over. Then it picked up the food container from the ground and smashed it down over their heads.

No one had expected this turn of events, and Xie Xianqing was too slow to react.

In that split second, a sword scabbard whirled. A figure instantly interposed his sword horizontally, blocking in front of Xie Xianqing. 

“Careful.”

It was Chu Xuan.

He shielded Xie Xianqing, taking a blow to his shoulder. The scalding hot porridge from the food container spilled all over him.

The smell of medicine filled the courtyard, overpowering the scents of bamboo and magnolia on Lu Buzhu and turning the entire courtyard’s aroma unfamiliar and chaotic, just like the scents on Lu Buzhu these past few days.

Shen Zhou wiped his hands on his clothes. His originally grim eyes grew even colder, laced with a murderous intent he himself hadn’t noticed.

He disliked these two, especially since they had barged into the courtyard, grabbing and pulling at Lu Buzhu, forcing him to drink strange things.

“Get out!” he snapped, turning to check if Lu Buzhu was alright. 

“Lu…”

The moment he turned, the faint scent of bamboo that had curled around his sleeves swept past his nose like a gust of wind, not lingering, but heading straight for Chu Xuan, who had fallen to the ground.

“That’s a nasty burn,” he heard his Dao Companion say. 

“Do you have any medicine?”

Then he heard Chu Xuan say in a low voice, “I’m fine,” and Xie Xianqing yanked up his sleeve, his voice unsteady. 

“No medicine… I need to mix some now. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some well water to rinse it first.”

“Then let’s go.”

The scent of bamboo that didn’t linger left Shen Zhou in a daze.

By the time he came to his senses again, he was already standing at the gate, blocking the three’s path. He looked up and met Lu Buzhu’s gaze, feeling a pang of panic for some unknown reason.

There was no gratitude for being saved in those eyes, nor was there the usual gentle, faint smile. There was only calmness, so still there wasn’t a single ripple.

…

But Shen Zhou felt he hadn’t done anything wrong.

After a moment, he said stubbornly, “Don’t go out.”

Lu Buzhu didn’t turn back as he usually would.

He just gave him that one calm look, helped Chu Xuan walk around him, and stepped over the threshold.

The scent of bamboo once again bypassed him and disappeared.

His thoughts became even more chaotic, so chaotic his head felt like it was splitting apart, and his panic intensified.

Shen Zhou didn’t know what he had done wrong. He turned in a fluster to chase after them, only to slam into the restraining array with a bang. He fell to the ground and couldn’t get up for a long time.

A long time passed, and no one came back to help him up from the ground.

So, Lu Buzhu’s promise of “don’t go out” meant that he could still go out. But the door that Shen Zhou couldn’t pass through meant that if Lu Buzhu left him here, he would just be left here.

Shen Zhou looked at the door. After a long while, he raised his hand and knocked gently.

And knocked again.

He knocked for a long time, but there was never a response. He slowly climbed up and limped back into the house, crawling into the wardrobe.

Later, Lu Buzhu returned once, took a few things from his storage ring, and then left in a hurry, not even noticing that his ankle was injured.

It wasn’t until bedtime that he finally noticed and helped apply some medicine.

There was no apology or guilt for leaving without permission during the day. He didn’t even mention it, as if it had never happened. He just patted him and said softly, “Go to sleep.”

After that day, Shen Zhou stopped trying to prevent Lu Buzhu from leaving.

Every day, he would lie alone on the courtyard wall, watching Lu Buzhu bustling about in the next yard, returning with all sorts of recognizable and unrecognizable scents on him.

The box of magnolia-scented ointment was hidden at the very bottom of a drawer, and he no longer left so many bite marks.

Occasionally, when Lu Buzhu asked why his ears were always drooping, he would perk them up, and then let them fall again once Lu Buzhu wasn’t looking.

It didn’t matter anyway; Lu Buzhu didn’t have much time to see him.

Shen Zhou became very quiet, often staring into space for an hour at a time.

The demonic energy in his sea of qi also gradually quieted down, falling back under the control of the demonic core and becoming docile, with no excess energy to disturb his spiritual domain.

His thoughts began to surface, one by one, like rocks emerging as the tide recedes.

He remembered.

Before the demonic energy had descended into chaos, his Dao Companion had already become someone else’s Senior Brother.