WPCID 35: No One Will Remember You Anymore

Lu Buzhu was completely oblivious and even had the leisure to speak with Xie Xianqing. 

“Where did Chu Xuan go?”

Xie Xianqing pulled his hand back and kicked the porcelain shards aside. He wanted to warn him that his half-demon was acting strangely, but then decided it would be a waste of breath.

So he just answered, “A new pastry shop opened in the west of the city. Chu Xuan said he was going to check it out and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Hm.” Lu Buzhu paused, then added casually, “Can you take a look at Shen Zhou’s pulse too? He seems to be a bit more clear-headed recently.”

At these words, both the man and the half-demon tensed up.

Xie Xianqing glanced at the expressionless half-demon and secretly tossed a handful of invigorating herbs into the incense burner, just in case he got attacked later when Lu Buzhu fell asleep. 

“I don’t treat demonic cultivators.”

Shen Zhou wagged his wolf ears, pretending not to understand, and turned to examine the elixirs on the shelves. A moment later, while Xie Xianqing wasn’t looking, he secretly stuffed four or five bottles into his robes.

When Chu Xuan returned with the pastries, the medicated fumigation was almost over.

The moment he entered, he felt a terrifying gaze fixed on him… on the sword in his arms.

Chu Xuan: “?”

Chu Xuan: “Senior Brother let him out?”

“That’s right.” Xie Xianqing sat by the bed, collecting his golden needles one by one. He joked, “If he had escaped on his own, I’d probably be lying on the floor by now.”

Chu Xuan made a noncommittal sound. For his Senior Brother’s sake, he ignored the demonic cultivator who was radiating hostility and unwrapped the Rainbow Auspicious Lotus Crisps he had waited in line for half the day to buy. He went to wake Lu Buzhu, who was lying on the bed. 

“Senior Brother…”

The atmosphere in the room was peaceful, for the time being.

Xie Xianqing put away his golden needles, got up to take stock of the elixirs on the shelves, and passed by Shen Zhou. The half-demon, who had been sitting quietly on the stool, suddenly shot up and swept past like a gust of wind, carrying a thick wave of demonic energy. The shock nearly made Xie Xianqing draw his fan on the spot.

But he wasn’t the target.

Clang!

Without even turning his head, Chu Xuan whirled his sword with one hand and blocked Shen Zhou’s attack.

In that split second, the figure on the fumigation bed vanished. Lu Buzhu, who had still been a bit groggy, scrambled up and, with a nimbleness that rivaled a lightness talisman, pulled Shen Zhou away and pushed the sword aside.

“What’s going on?” he demanded sternly.

Shen Zhou, smothered in the embrace, peeked out with one eye and continued to stare at Chu Xuan’s sword.

Hearing the question, he went back to pretending he knew nothing and accused, “He touched you. You weren’t wearing clothes.”

Lu Buzhu: “…”

Chu Xuan: “…”

Xie Xianqing nearly twisted his neck, utterly dumbfounded. 

“………”

With a wooden face, Chu Xuan slowly sheathed his sword. He looked like he wanted to speak but held back. After a long silence, he said, “Senior Brother, try some pastries.”

Lu Buzhu got dressed and took the pastries Chu Xuan handed him. He looked up to find that his Dao Companion’s wolf ears had drooped again and his eyes were full of unsaid words as he looked at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?” He put the untouched pastry back in the paper bag and took Shen Zhou’s hand to examine it carefully. 

“Your nail?”

Indeed, there was a tiny crack in his nail. It was very small; it would be fine once trimmed.

The wolf ears looked even more wronged.

Xie Xianqing couldn’t bear it anymore. He shifted over and whispered in Chu Xuan’s ear, “I have an exorcism recipe here, do you want…”

Chu Xuan: “What kind of evil spirit?”

Xie Xianqing flicked his fan, looking profound. 

“Just you watch. Just watch.”

Just then, Lu Buzhu turned to ask him, “Do you have any medicine for fingernails?”

“No.” Xie Xianqing looked as if he had expected this. 

“That little scratch isn’t even as serious as the bite marks on your body. I don’t have medicine for such minor injuries.”

Lu Buzhu said, “Oh,” and turned back to continue saying something to his Dao Companion.

To be more precise, he was coaxing him.

A moment later, he turned his head again, this time to look at Chu Xuan. 

“Shen Zhou says he wants to see your sword. Is that convenient?”

Chu Xuan: “…”

For a rare moment, Chu Xuan didn’t reply. He paused, then said to Xie Xianqing, “Where’s that exorcism recipe of yours?”

Lu Buzhu chuckled. He had only asked as a matter of course and hadn’t really intended to get the sword. He turned to Shen Zhou and said gently, “See? He’s ignoring us. A sword cultivator’s sword cannot be lent out casually.”

He sounded like he was coaxing a child.

Shen Zhou didn’t say anything else.

The patterns on the sword in Chu Xuan’s hand were indeed exquisite. In that brief clash just now, he could tell it was meticulously crafted. Hidden within the patterns were the small characters “A gift to Junior Brother Chu Xuan.”

His own silver clasp didn’t have “A gift to Dao Companion Shen Zhou” written on it.

Although it was customary for a sword cultivator never to part with their sword, the way Chu Xuan treasured this one seemed to have more to do with the fact that Lu Buzhu had given it to him.

So that “Lu Buzhu” hadn’t been lying.

Shen Zhou lowered his eyes unhappily. With a flick of his gaze, he reached out and swept the pastries off the table, not letting Lu Buzhu eat them. He was muddle-headed right now, anyway; whatever he did was reasonable.

After the porridge-splashing incident, Lu Buzhu had become adept at predicting what trouble his Dao Companion would cause next. The moment Shen Zhou’s eyes moved, he knew what to guard against. With a quick hand, he caught the pastries and put them back on the table.

He then saw Chu Xuan’s eyes turn cold.

The two sides were now at daggers drawn; it was no longer suitable to stay here. Lu Buzhu sighed, shot an apologetic look at Chu Xuan, and coaxed and wheedled the man away.

Chu Xuan felt his sword being stared at several more times and frowned.

After Lu Buzhu was far away, he said, “That demonic cultivator is hostile towards me.”

Xie Xianqing was busy counting on the shelves. He was interrupted midway through and instantly forgot how many bottles there were. Deciding not to bother counting again, he said casually, “And you aren’t? If Lu Buzhu didn’t protect him like a precious treasure, your sword would have been unsheathed just now.”

Chu Xuan said coolly, “I kill demonic cultivators. What is wrong with that?”

Xie Xianqing thought to himself that this wasn’t a matter of right or wrong. Not wanting to argue with him, he went along with it. 

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong. It’s Lu Buzhu who’s been bewitched…”

“Senior Brother has only been deluded by the demonic cultivator because he doesn’t remember,” Chu Xuan said. 

“It’s because you refused to use the secret art to seal Senior Brother’s memory and eliminate this problem for good.”

“How did this circle back to being my fault?” Doctor Xie felt so wronged it could snow in June. 

“Is that secret art something that can be used on just anyone? When your master entrusted you two to me back then, he said you were stubborn and prone to getting fixated. He repeatedly urged me to… Ah, forget it.”

He turned his head, only to find that Chu Xuan had already left without a sound.

Back in the courtyard, Shen Zhou took out the elixirs and dumped them all into the teapot.

They were all soul-nourishing medicines, nothing harmful. At worst, they just didn’t taste very good.

To cover up the taste, Shen Zhou rummaged through his storage ring again, added some longan, cinnamon, and red dates, and then brought it for Lu Buzhu to drink.

Lu Buzhu took it without any suspicion and had a sip. 

“.”

The taste reminded him of that cup of soybean flour ginger tea that was trying so hard to hide something.

“…What did you put in this?”

“Good things,” Shen Zhou said, and took a sip himself to show him.

It was a familiar scene.

Lu Buzhu was silent for a moment, then took the cup and drank it. It didn’t matter. Anything was fine, really.

After drinking it, he didn’t notice anything unusual with his body and felt a little disappointed.

He set down the teacup, looked up, and saw that Shen Zhou seemed to be in a better mood. He then asked, “Why did you throw the pastries Chu Xuan bought on the floor?”

There was no blame in his tone; he just wanted to understand.

Either he didn’t like the pastries, or he didn’t like Chu Xuan, or there was some other reason. There was always a way to reconcile things.

Shen Zhou didn’t say anything. With his back to Lu Buzhu, he fiddled with the teacup for a long while before asking, “…You like it?”

“Mhm,” Lu Buzhu said. 

“It looked pretty tasty.”

After that, Shen Zhou ignored him. No amount of teasing worked.

Puzzled, Lu Buzhu leaned against the bed by himself for a while. He suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness and soon fell into a deep sleep.

As the sky darkened, Shen Zhou lit the oil lamp on the table and continued to sit there, chin in hand, waiting.

A short while later, the door creaked open.

“I brought it for you.” The person gently released his hand, and the sword that a sword cultivator never parted with fell onto the table with a clatter. 

“How is it?”

Shen Zhou picked up the sword.

A sharp aura hit him, righteous and vast, as if it were Chu Xuan himself.

“How did you get it?”

“I said I wanted to borrow it for a look, and he gave it to me.” “Lu Buzhu’s” features were slightly blurred in the candlelight, his smile gentle, his deep voice tapping against Shen Zhou’s heart with every word. 

“This Sect Master Chu is truly devoted to his Senior Brother. I think he would give not just his sword, but even his life if asked. You are no match for him; no wonder Lu Buzhu is biased.”

“…”

“One more thing.” “Lu Buzhu” poured himself a cup of the doctored tea and said leisurely as he drank, “When I went over, I happened to walk in on the two of them arguing. That Sect Master Chu said he wants to use some secret art to seal Senior Brother’s memory, kill you, and then find a new, suitable match for Senior Brother—by then, no one will remember you anymore. How pitiful.”

Shen Zhou’s pupils shrank abruptly.