Sure enough, Sheng Qixiao was incredibly busy for the next two days.
He was seldom seen in daylight; only late at night would an arm quietly curl around Shen Que’s waist, the warmth that stirred him from sleep silently signaling his return.
Before dawn even broke, he would already be gone, utterly satisfied as he stepped into the light of the early morning.
When Shen Que woke once more, he found himself alone in the room. Turning over to lie on his back, his palm brushed against the sheets, where the lingering warmth of their earlier entanglement still remained.
The skin around his upper thighs was stinging badly; it must have been chafed. Sheng Qixiao had applied ointment before leaving, but it hadn’t taken much effect yet.
Shen Que stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, thinking about where he had hidden the sleeping pills Gang Zi gave him after Sheng Qixiao found and returned them the last time he had taken them. If not, he would have to find a way to make Sheng Qixiao take a few.
Though he had failed before, things could not continue like this indefinitely.
Over the past two days, Sheng Qixiao had been like a starving wolf finally given a taste of meat. No matter how exhausted he was during the day, the moment he returned, he was full of energy. One second he would be putting on a pitiful, innocent act; the next, he was already loaded and ready to go.
Shen Que tried his best to resist, but the effect was obviously very limited. No matter how much he lost his temper, Sheng Qixiao remained unmoved, even kindly reminding him that the small building had poor soundproofing and Old Qiu and the others were across the way. In the end, he could only relent, softening his attitude as he unwillingly spun a stream of sweet lies Sheng Qixiao loved to hear, barely managing to hold onto his final line of defense.
Old Qiu and the others were sent back that morning with only external injuries sustained during the fight; there were no other wounds. As for whether the toxic fog had damaged their minds, Shen Que couldn’t immediately tell, but based on their own accounts, it seemed the issues were minor.
In the middle of the night, Sheng Qixiao slipped into Shen Que’s quilt once again. Perhaps he had been especially exhausted today, because the moment he wrapped his arms around Shen Que, he quieted down immediately.
He was asleep.
But he disturbed Shen Que’s peaceful rest.
Warm, damp breaths brushed against Shen Que’s neck, tickling him unbearably. Irritated, Shen Que abruptly sat upright, ready to snap at him, but fell silent the moment he noticed the deep crease between his brows and the dark shadows beneath his eyes.
Sheng Qixiao’s eyes were closed, and his hands were still restlessly groping around. After a moment’s thought, Shen Que tossed a pillow over. Sheng Qixiao fell quiet, contentedly wrapping his arms around it as though it were someone, and soon drifted back into a deep sleep.
Having been in the darkness for a long time, Shen Que’s eyes gradually adapted. He scrutinized Sheng Qixiao from head to toe without any concealment.
In his sleep, Sheng Qixiao seemed to have reverted to the calm simplicity of their first meeting. His long eyelashes trembled faintly, his nostrils flared ever so slightly, and those lips; whose shape and color Shen Que had found striking at first glance, were now pressed tightly together.
He still looked like someone between a boy and a young man, not fully mature, but already no longer naive.
Shen Que got out of bed, leaving the entire room to Sheng Qixiao.
As far as he knew, the people from the outer stockade were scheduled to leave in the next two days.
They had to find a way to blend in with the crowd and leave together.
The past two days, none of them had left the small courtyard; only Shen Que had gone downstairs once.
As soon as he stepped off the last stair, he saw Ke Di and a few other clansmen playing cards around a small table under the eaves on the first floor.
The poker cards belonged to Old Qiu, and the “Fighting the Landlord” game was taught by the volunteer Gang Zi. Back then, the toxic fog had already begun to spread, though it was still far less dense than it would later become. Old Qiu and Gang Zi were recruited by Ke Di to make up numbers for the patrol team. They played cards for amusement when they were bored. Although they couldn’t communicate with the other clansmen, it didn’t affect their fun at all.
That period seemed harmonious on the surface.
But thinking about it now, perhaps the patrol team was just a facade back then, and the “traitor” they had loudly claimed to be searching for eventually came to nothing.
With Shen Que’s new understanding of Sheng Qixiao, this might very well have been a trick concocted by him and Ke Di by using an excuse to keep Old Qiu and Gang Zi busy. Perhaps Sheng Qixiao had already noticed something was amiss with them back then.
He was too foolish to think he could get away with it.
And now, with this small building being “guarded” by Ke Di and Sheng Qixiao in rotation day and night, how were they supposed to slip out unnoticed?
Shen Que rubbed his forehead. Just as he was about to sit down in the rattan chair near the second-floor balcony, the sound of a door opening rang out behind him, followed by a series of heavy footsteps.
Old Qiu found a spot next to him, his expression hard to read for a moment, “Why are you out? Can’t sleep?”
Shen Que hummed before leaning back and resting against the chair back.
“Sheng Qixiao is back.” It was a statement of certainty. “I heard him open your door.”
“……” Shen Que knew what he wanted to say and was temporarily speechless. His right index finger curled faintly, the fingertip absently rubbing against the knuckle of his middle finger; he found himself craving a cigarette.
“You and him.” Old Qiu stopped himself before he could finish speaking, finally shaking his head. “I regret it deeply. You shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place…”
Shen Que did not look at him, yet instantly guessed the expression on his face; his brows were likely drawn so tightly together they could trap an entire line of mosquitoes. The image that came to mind made him let out a quiet chuckle.
“Why do you make something that was mutually consensual sound like going to the execution ground?”
Old Qiu, who was immersed in a sorrow that Shen Que couldn’t understand, rubbed his thighs.
He had previously looked down on Shen Que from the bottom of his heart, thinking that he indulged in sensual pleasures, wasted his time, and acted willfully by relying on his good looks and good family background.
Now, he only hoped that Shen Que was truly heartless; otherwise…
“What exactly is wrong with you?” Shen Que finally turned his head to look at him. “Did you find out something, or did you also conceal and deceive me about something?”
The last sentence had been meant to ease the atmosphere, yet Old Qiu’s body suddenly went rigid, a fleeting trace of panic flashing across his face so quickly it was nearly impossible to catch. He abruptly stood up without any warning, nearly knocking over the decorative vase on the rattan side table. After steadying it, he asked out of the blue, “Do you like him?”
“Why are you starting to ask such boring questions too?”
“I’m just afraid you won’t be able to bear leaving him, that’s all.” Old Qiu gave two forced laughs. “The people from the outer stockade are leaving tomorrow. We’ll head out with them.”
“In all these years, have you ever known me to be reluctant to leave anyone?”
Old Qiu walked past Shen Que, seemingly eager to escape this off-topic conversation, and turned to go back to his room to rest. The very next moment, however, he seemed to step on something, his footing slipping as he slammed straight into the door of Sheng Qixiao’s room.
The door had only been left slightly ajar rather than fully shut, and with the force of the impact, it swung wide open.
“Have you figured out a way… how to leave?” Shen Que was still pressing and immediately turned his head when he heard the noise.
In the otherwise empty room, a lone lamp burned quietly in solitude.
A heavily carved mahogany box stood conspicuously on the table next to it.
Shen Que’s heart thundered in his chest, and he paid no mind to Old Qiu, who was half-sprawled on the ground. Stepping over him in a single stride, he entered Sheng Qixiao’s… room.
“Don’t touch it! It’s poisonous.”
“I know.” Shen Que was unusually calm. Anyway, Sheng Qixiao would detoxify him.
The mahogany box sat slightly ajar, a faint violet glow reflecting in Shen Que’s eyes; it was that Gu insect. Sheng Qixiao had not returned it. Shen Que wondered if he was plotting something again.
Shen Que stood in the main hall for a long time before he managed to calm down enough to push open the door of the small room that had briefly belonged to him.
The person who had been sleeping soundly was now leaning against the headboard with the pillow Shen Que had casually tossed over pressed underneath his arm.
“Where did you go?” Sheng Qixiao’s voice was hoarse from just waking up.
Shen Que was inwardly alarmed, but his expression didn’t reveal anything. He repeatedly reminded himself of Old Qiu’s warning not to tip off the enemy. Despite his extreme reluctance, he forced himself to calmly sit by the bed before reaching out to snatch the pillow back. “Toilet. Don’t you have your own bed? Why crowd mine?”
Sheng Qixiao’s gaze swept inadvertently across his fingertips, but he didn’t pursue the question. He half-hugged and half-dragged Shen Que into the quilt. “So sleepy. I can’t sleep well without you.”
Knowing he was talking nonsense, Shen Que sneered and closed his eyes.
Instead of the expected tossing and turning, he woke up to bright daylight.
His hands were loosely bound together with a dark blue sash and rested outside the quilt. His palms were damp, coated in a thin layer of ointment.
Shen Que shook his hands twice and easily broke free from the restraint before throwing the sash aside.
This scene had been happening daily in the past few days.
The Gu poison on the mahogany box could not be cured overnight with ordinary medicine. Afraid that Shen Que would forget to apply the ointment, Sheng Qixiao would cover his entire palms with it before leaving. By the time Shen Que woke up, most of it had already been absorbed.
Shen Que thought Sheng Qixiao’s worry was purely redundant. He valued his life now; he would try his best not to die until he was sure Shen Yi could live.
Sheng Qixiao had also suggested that Shen Que drink some more “blood vine juice” to heal faster, which Shen Que sternly refused.
Outside the small building, voices rose in a noisy clamor. Unlike the liveliness of the past few days, nearly every face was now shadowed with reluctance and sorrow.
Shen Que watched expressionlessly.
Sheng Qixiao came out of the kitchen while holding a bowl of mushroom porridge, his expression calm. He nodded towards Shen Que, “Come and eat.”
“What about your family?” Shen Que followed him into the house, his gaze lingering on the farewell scene unfolding outside.
“I have no family.” Sheng Qixiao pulled out a chair for Shen Que and pushed the porridge, side dishes, and pastries towards him. “I never did before. Now I have you.”
“Don’t you yearn for the outside world?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Biting his chopsticks, he organized his words and tentatively asked, “Is there any reason you absolutely must stay here?”
The door to the room belonging to Old Qiu and the others opened, and upon seeing Sheng Qixiao at the dining table, they were all stunned.
Things are different now. No matter how thick-skinned the “thieves” were, they wouldn’t dare share a table with the half-“owner” of the stolen item.
The group silently retreated back inside after their gazes met.
Sheng Qixiao’s gaze didn’t waver at all as he kept looking straight at Shen Que. After a moment of serious consideration, he said, “Yes, but it has nothing to do with you.”
“After they leave, the Moon Glazing Festival will be completely over. Do you really not have any wish?”
Shen Que lowered his head to eat his porridge, waving his hand in passing. He hadn’t taken that statement to heart at all.
Although it had only been two or three days since he last ate Sheng Qixiao’s cooking, it felt like an entire century had passed.
He probably won’t get to eat it anymore in the future.
Sheng Qixiao’s eyes dimmed slightly. “Then I’m going out. There are still some matters that need to be wrapped up today. Don’t run around. In a couple of days, I’ll take you to look around the other valleys.”
Shen Que didn’t lift his head, yet he could feel Sheng Qixiao’s gaze lingering on him, carrying an odd, weighty pressure.
“Shen Que, be a little obedient.” His tone was somewhat helpless.
The hand holding the chopsticks tightened.
The sun had fully risen.
Old Qiu somehow managed to get a few sets of Miao ethnic clothing for them to change into.
The copper lock on Sheng Qixiao’s door was violently removed, but the table inside was empty.
“What’s going on!” Even Old Qiu, who was usually composed, panicked; he shoved Gang Zi aside and strode inside.
“Here, here it is!”
Ah Chao shouted while holding up the mahogany box. The others finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“But, when did Young Master Shen’s sunglasses get here?”
A pair of sunglasses lay quietly inside the pulled-out drawer. There were two very obvious gold letter logos on the temples, and Shen Que’s initials were engraved on the inside.
“It really is!” Gang Zi scratched his head, leaned in for a closer look, and then elbowed Shen Que. “That’s strange. I remember you already throwing them away before we went into the mountains, didn’t you?”
Shen Que stood frozen in place, his heart lurching the moment he clearly saw the sunglasses. The black illusion he had first glimpsed in the forest flashed back across his mind.
That black figure was tall and upright, and as it walked forward at an unhurried pace, faint silver bell chimes rang out in succession.
Sheng Qixiao’s figure, at this moment, completely overlapped with that black figure.
Shen Que’s face turned ashen. He opened his mouth and spat out two words quickly, “Hurry, and go!”
The author has something to say:
Poor Little Shen~