Chapter 29: Reconciliation

Lin Zhuoyu was still talking.

“I know you feel wronged. You were hurt like this for my sake, and now you’re being asked to form a Dao Companion pact with a man. But I asked around carefully just now—even Lord Qingxiao of the Medical Sect of the Three Realms was at a loss, so there truly is no other way.

“It just so happens I came by way of Deer Jade Terrace and ran into another Shishu of mine, who mentioned an elder holding a Union Ceremony soon. That elder’s Dao Companion is a mortal, and once a Dao Companion Pact is formed, the two can share lifespan and spiritual power.

“On the way here, I was thinking—if only one of us can live, then better to form the Dao Companion Pact first and dissolve it later. That way, both problems are solved… Hm? Lu Qi? What’s wrong?”

Qingshan Qi jolted as if waking from a dream, staring blankly at Lin Zhuoyu, momentarily unable to find an answer.

When Lin Zhuoyu got nervous, he tended to ramble. Everyone he had grown up around—elders and peers alike— consisted of matched men and women, and he knew very little about love between two men.

He simply assumed Heaven’s law could not tolerate such things, and that some said dual cultivation between two men was deeply humiliating, which was why he spoke with such a guilty conscience.

Lin Zhuoyu looked at him carefully. “I know it isn’t honorable, but no one dares breathe a word against anything on Floating Jade Mountain. I absolutely won’t let you suffer the slightest grievance. What… what do you think?”

Toward the end, his voice noticeably softened, afraid that Qingshan Qi despised love between men and that the boy’s pride would be wounded.

Qingshan Qi stood frozen for a long while. For some reason, his eyes had reddened faintly, and his voice no longer carried the deliberate softness it usually did—instead it was nearly aggressive in its sharpness.

“A Dao Companion Union requires mutual affection! We’ve only known each other a few days and you want to hold a Union with me?!”

Utterly absurd!

Lin Zhuoyu gave him a long, level look. “Funny, you didn’t remember that when you dug out your Origin Core. Now you suddenly recall we’ve only known each other a few days?”

Qingshan Qi: “You—!”

Lin Zhuoyu had still been feeling guilty, but seeing no humiliation or disgust on Qingshan Qi’s face, he relaxed and leaned in with a grin. “Well well, and here I thought our Little Qi had such a good temper. I didn’t know you could snap at people too. Come on, glare at your elder brother one more time.”

Qingshan Qi: “…”

Lin Zhuoyu was beautiful to a degree rare even among the Demon Race. A layer of pale pink gauze draped over his azure robe, and his black hair spilled down his slender back, making him seem as tall and straight as green bamboo, his face like peach stamens.

And that was before he smiled like a blooming flower, eyes curving as he gazed at Qingshan Qi, as if confessing his feelings—as if he truly cherished him.

Qingshan Qi stared, dazed, his heart hammering wildly beyond his control.

Seeing the boy flushed red to the tips of his ears, Lin Zhuoyu coughed dryly to soothe him. “All right, all right, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it works. I’ve thought it over carefully—we form a temporary Dao Companion Pact to get through one month, and once your Origin Core is retrieved, we shatter the pact and part ways. Don’t worry, kid. Your reputation will stay spotless.”

The hand inside Qingshan Qi’s sleeve clenched hard; the pain in his palm was the only thing holding his reason together.

Ridiculous! Laughable!

Lin Zhuoyu was humiliating him!

He had gambled his Origin Core to shatter that Exquisite Heart, only to botch it—not only did Lin Zhuoyu remain as radiant and untouchable as the moon at the edge of the sky, now the man wanted to form a Dao Companion pact with him…

A Dao Companion pact with a demon? A secret lifelong bond?

How laughable.

Seeing that Qingshan Qi would not speak, Lin Zhuoyu urged him, displeased. “Well? Do you agree or not? If not, forget it—I’ll go pester Shizun and see if there’s another way.”

He rose to leave—and his hand was suddenly seized.

Lin Zhuoyu looked back.

Qingshan Qi stared at him fixedly, and only after a long moment did he finally say in a low voice, “In that case, there’s no other way. Everything will be as you wish, Elder Brother.”

Lin Zhuoyu narrowed his eyes. “Why do you look so unwilling?”

Qingshan Qi shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Don’t worry, it’s all fake anyway,” Lin Zhuoyu consoled him. “In a month the pact breaks and you’re a free man again—the whole sky’s yours to fly.”

Qingshan Qi said nothing.

He should have felt relieved and even glad to hear it, yet the words “breaking the pact” made his heart tighten inexplicably, a faint discomfort settling in.

Keeping his face impassive, he traced that subtle displeasure to its source, and after a long search, a smile suddenly curled his lips.

Of course. The precious darling cherished by the Demon Suppression Bureau and all of Floating Jade Mountain alike, bound as Dao Companion to a lowly, vicious demon— to the Human Race, that was a humiliation beyond measure.

And once the pact was formed, that Exquisite Heart would be his. With his mastery of toying with hearts, staying at Lin Zhuoyu’s side day and night would let him control him all the more easily.

He would make him sink, make him fall hopelessly in love—and when the affection ran deepest, he would reveal his true identity.

By then, Lin Zhuoyu’s expression would surely be a sight worth savoring.

If he could hold this bright moon in his palm and toy with it as he pleased, why would he ever break the pact?

The more Qingshan Qi thought, the closer he came to laughing aloud.

Lin Zhuoyu had walked right into this himself, so he had no one to blame…

Lin Zhuoyu smacked the back of his head. “What are you so happy about all by yourself?”

Qingshan Qi: “…”

Qingshan Qi collected himself and lowered his eyes obediently. “You misread it.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Lin Zhuoyu said. “Did you hear what I just said?”

Qingshan Qi blinked. “What?”

Lin Zhuoyu said exasperatedly, “I said, once you’re a little better, I’ll take you to see Shizun about the Union Ceremony. Look at that body of yours—one gust of wind and you’d topple over. Shizun would never approve.”

Qingshan Qi frowned. He couldn’t understand why Lin Zhuoyu always assumed he was frail.

Though he was disguised as a youth, he had barely concealed his frame; anyone with eyes could see he was far taller than boys his apparent age.

Could it be that he had overdone the act?

Looking at Lin Zhuoyu’s thin, willowy figure, Qingshan Qi thought expressionlessly, If I revealed my true form, my claws would be wider than his entire waist.

“The divine hands of the Medical Sect,” he said. “I took a few spirit pills just now, and I’ve already recovered completely.”

Lin Zhuoyu marveled, “My Shishu has such divine power? A single pill can make a man who lost his Origin Core seem as if it had grown back? Why, you could wrestle a tiger barehanded!”

Annoyed at being underestimated, Qingshan Qi said, “As far as tigers go, I could probably win.”

Lin Zhuoyu pursed his lips. “I was being sarcastic.”

Qingshan Qi: “……”

Only belatedly did Qingshan Qi catch the passive-aggressive sarcasm, and his face darkened with irritation.

Lin Zhuoyu was flamboyant and flighty by nature, his actions always impossible to predict.

Now even his words made no sense.

Lin Zhuoyu stood up, making as if to head out.

Qingshan Qi shot to his feet and grabbed his hand at once. “Hahaha. Very funny.”

Lin Zhuoyu froze, then couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. He reached out and tapped Qingshan Qi between the brows, eyes brimming with mirth. “How are you this silly?”

Qingshan Qi said, “Was that… also sarcasm?”

Lin Zhuoyu blinked, unprepared for such shamelessness, and burst out laughing.

It was the first time Qingshan Qi had seen Lin Zhuoyu laugh so openly, and for once, his focus wavered.

Sunlight streamed through the window lattice onto the young man’s porcelain-and-jade face. The gauze veil hung like mist, and the few pink peach blossoms caught in it made him all the more radiant.

Laughing so freely, those beautiful eyes seemed misted with moisture—already a beauty beyond this world, and now even more devastatingly, soul-snatchingly alluring than usual.

“You’re so much fun.” Still smiling, Lin Zhuoyu peeled a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. “Reward. Candy for you.”

Qingshan Qi snapped back to himself just as Lin Zhuoyu’s warm fingertip brushed across his thin lips—and he nearly lost control of the desire roaring up in him, nearly parted his lips to catch that finger in his mouth and devour it.

Lin Zhuoyu withdrew his hand quickly and said with a smile, “I have an errand. You rest.”

Qingshan Qi abruptly seized his sleeve. Caught off guard, Lin Zhuoyu failed to brace himself and nearly tumbled into his arms.

Only up close did Lin Zhuoyu belatedly register just how tall Qingshan Qi actually was, and he blinked in astonishment.

Had this kid always been this tall?

Seeing Lin Zhuoyu stumble, a flicker of chagrin crossed Qingshan Qi’s eyes, and he released him awkwardly. “Where are you going? When will you be back?”

“Well, well.” Lin Zhuoyu teased him, “We’re not even pledged yet and you’re already keeping tabs on me?”

Qingshan Qi chewed on the candy. “I’m not.”

Lin Zhuoyu laughed. “All right, all right. My Senior Brother doesn’t look well, so I’m going to check on him. I’ll be back soon.”

Qingshan Qi’s brows knitted.

Yan Linyuan?

That man couldn’t die even if he tried. Why bother visiting?

Qingshan Qi’s first instinct was to cough up blood to make Lin Zhuoyu stay, but after a moment’s thought he forced it down, able only to watch Lin Zhuoyu sweep away with effortless grace.

Yan Linyuan.

Yan Linyuan…

The irritation of Lin Zhuoyu vanishing before his eyes, coupled with that eyesore of a name, turned Qingshan Qi’s gaze glacial. He wanted to kill.

Face cold, he raised a hand and beckoned. The peach blossom bookmark tucked within the strange-tales anthology on the desk floated over into his palm.

The more he looked at that sprig of peach blossom, the more it disgusted him. Qingshan Qi pinched it hard, and a tongue of fox fire flared up, devouring the wooden slip and reducing it to powder in an instant.

A breath of wind lifted the ashes and carried them, together with the peach blossom, out the window.

There was the sound of wind.

Yan Su closed his eyes and lowered his gaze, letting the chaotic sea of his consciousness twist that howling wind into voice after voice: Senior Brother. Senior Brother.

“Senior Brother!”

On Nine Winters Cliff, Yan Su’s eyes flew open. White frost had formed on his lashes, and he nearly believed it was another auditory hallucination.

But the voice was drawing closer, accompanied by light, unhurried footsteps.

Lin Zhuoyu?

Lin Zhuoyu was soft-hearted. Ever since hearing Lord Qingxiao’s words, he had been beside himself, and despite their cold war, he couldn’t help running to check on Yan Su.

I’m not worried, Lin Zhuoyu told himself. It’s just that his Dao Heart wavered because of me. Of course I should come take a look.

So thinking, he trudged up the cliff, shivering against the biting wind of Nine Winters Cliff.

But before he reached Yan Su’s cave abode, he saw his Senior Brother walking out sword in hand in nothing but a thin white robe, his face—just as Lord Qingxiao had said—pale as paper.

Lin Zhuoyu coughed dryly. “Senior Brother.”

Yan Su lowered his eyes, not meeting his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

Watching the frost caught in Lin Zhuoyu’s hair, Yan Su’s brow shifted slightly, and he stepped forward. “Walk.”

Lin Zhuoyu thought Yan Su was driving him off, that he wasn’t even allowed to enter this place—but then he heard Yan Su say quietly, “This is no place to talk. Let’s go down the mountain first.”

“Oh,” said Lin Zhuoyu.

Yan Su took Lin Zhuoyu’s wrist and, with practiced ease, carried him on the wind, reaching the foot of Nine Winters Cliff in moments.

Lin Zhuoyu bounced in place to shake off the layer of frost clinging to him, then studied Yan Su, as if checking whether he was injured.

Yan Su didn’t look at him. “What are you staring at me for?”

Lin Zhuoyu pursed his lips. “Did your eyes grow on your ears? You knew I was looking at you without even a glance.”

Yan Su said nothing.

Defiant, Lin Zhuoyu leaned in close. “Senior Brother, why won’t you look at me?”

The words were nearly identical to what the Inner Demon had said in his illusion. Yan Su closed his eyes, opened them to meet Lin Zhuoyu’s gaze, then casually looked away again. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Seeing that Yan Su wouldn’t budge, Lin Zhuoyu didn’t press him about why he’d been staring at the flower patch nearby and simply asked, “I just wanted to know—is your injury any better?”

“A lot better,” Yan Su answered perfunctorily.

Lin Zhuoyu narrowed his eyes. “So you are injured!”

Yan Su: “…”

Lin Zhuoyu reached out to grab him. “Let me see—”

Yan Su evaded the hand without a trace, saying in a low voice, “It’s nothing serious. Steady breathing and it will heal.”

“The Heart-Purifying Dao wounds the spirit. If steady breathing could heal it, how would there be so many cases of Qi Deviation?” Lin Zhuoyu frowned. “Let me look. When we were little, every time your heart was unsettled, soothing you with my spiritual power worked, didn’t it? Let me try again.”

The words struck a nerve straight down Yan Su’s windpipe. His face darkened and he stepped back half a pace. “No need.”

Lin Zhuoyu stared at him, startled.

Realizing he had spoken too loudly, Yan Su calmed himself and said in a low voice, “Back then I was only fooling you. Ordinary spiritual power cannot soothe the Heart-Purifying Dao. Don’t waste your effort.”

Lin Zhuoyu said mulishly, “But I’m worried about you.”

Yan Su went rigid.

Lin Zhuoyu had always been like this—open and unguarded, never hiding what he felt from those he cared for, his sincerity as pure as a piece of exquisite jade.

If Yan Su merely hinted that the Exquisite Bloodline could steady his Dao, Lin Zhuoyu would no doubt agree without a second thought to become his Dao Companion, offering his very being to anchor his path.

Yan Su’s voice gentled. “I’ll be fine.”

His Senior Brother was older, and had always been like a towering tree shielding him from wind and rain. Even if something truly were wrong, he would never show weakness and worry his Little Junior Brother.

Lin Zhuoyu knew this well enough. He could only nod and turn to walk down the mountain steps.

The young man was tall and slender; the setting sun draped him in what looked like a veil of shifting colors—and yet, in Yan Su’s eyes, the figure looked inexplicably desolate.

He had already suffered such a tremendous grievance, yet he was still willing to set it aside and brave the freezing wind to come show concern—only to be heartlessly turned away.

Gazing at that pitiful, wronged silhouette, a thought suddenly surfaced in Yan Su’s mind.

What was he doing?

He treasured Lin Zhuoyu like a rare jewel. Keeping him out of the Demon Suppression Bureau, refusing to use or scheme against him by binding him as a Dao Companion—all of it was for his sake. So why did he keep breaking his heart?

This wasn’t protection. It was nothing but his own one-sided estrangement.

Lin Zhuoyu was trudging along miserably when rapid footsteps sounded behind him, and a cold embrace suddenly closed around him from behind, long arms locking around his waist.

Lin Zhuoyu froze.

This was clearly not how ordinary senior and junior brothers embraced. It was far too intimate.

Before he could register that something was off, Yan Su released him, pressed his shoulders, and turned him around, holding him gently, face to face.

Lin Zhuoyu knew this posture well. It was as if they had returned to the days when no rift stood between them. Breathing in the sharp wind-and-snow scent clinging to Yan Su, he said softly, “Senior Brother?”

Yan Su slowly released him and looked down at him. “I’m sorry.”

Lin Zhuoyu blinked blankly. “For what? Why are you apologizing?”

“What I said at Deer Jade Terrace wasn’t the truth,” Yan Su said. “Your Senior Brother never saw you as a burden.”

It took Lin Zhuoyu a long moment to realize his Eldest Senior Brother was actually apologizing for that. He shifted his gaze away, awkward. “Oh, oh, that? I forgot ages ago. It was nothing.”

But Yan Su knew: if Lin Zhuoyu hadn’t cared about those vicious words, he would never have fought a Great Demon alone to prove himself, nearly dying.

It was all his fault. Convinced he was acting for Lin Zhuoyu’s good, he had instead thrown him into danger.

—Just like that time in Linchuan City.

After all these days, Yan Su looked at him directly for the first time, at this face that had grown bit by bit from childish softness into its present handsome elegance, and the delusion in his heart was nearly impossible to suppress.

But none of this was Lin Zhuoyu’s fault.

It was he who had let desire run wild, who had let his Sea of Consciousness lay hands on this person sculpted of snow and bone—that was why his Dao Heart had shattered.

Lin Zhuoyu had done nothing. He didn’t deserve the cold shoulder, and he certainly didn’t deserve to become a “tool” for soothing Yan Su’s Dao Heart.

Yan Su said softly, “Whatever compensation you want, your Senior Brother can give it.”

Lin Zhuoyu had no idea of the storm churning through Yan Su’s heart. He assumed the two of them had simply weathered a “squabble” that had lasted a few hours longer than usual, and at these words he happily spread out his claws.

“Then give back those two Snow Lotus Fruits.”

“Anything but that,” said Yan Su.

Lin Zhuoyu cupped his own face, gazing at him pleadingly like a child begging for candy, playing pitiful. “But that’s the only thing I want! Snow lotus can gently nurture Lu Qi’s withered meridians, you know.”

Yan Su pressed his claws back down and said flatly, “Ask for something else. Move back to Warm Spring Peak?”

Lin Zhuoyu went “ah,” and since he and his Senior Brother had finally made up, his mood was good. He smiled slyly. “No can do. I have certain… inconveniences.”

Yan Su: “…”

Choked by the very same words, Yan Su could only shake his head helplessly at the smug, vengeful look on Lin Zhuoyu’s face.

Seeing his Senior Brother in good spirits too, Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes rolled, and he said sweetly, “Actually, there is something I need your help with.”

“Name it,” said Yan Su.

“Not telling yet.” Lin Zhuoyu winked at him. “In a few days, you’re coming with me to Deer Jade Terrace to see Shizun. I’m afraid Shizun will get angry and thrash me—you have to help block a few hits.”

Judging by this, Yan Su knew he’d caused trouble again. From childhood on, he had never once let Lin Zhuoyu take a beating; even without being asked, he would willingly step in front.

“All right.”