Chapter 29 Part 1

Yu Xingzhou felt all the emotions he had bottled up over these past days surge uncontrollably the moment he laid eyes on Jing Chi.

His eyes reddened as he stared at Jing Chi, trying to stand, but his legs buckled after squatting for so long, nearly sending him crashing to the floor.

Jing Chi swiftly caught him.

Yu Xingzhou had wanted to throw himself into Jing Chi’s arms, but the moment he felt that warm body heat, he realized just how chilled his own body was and immediately suppressed the urge.

Jing Chi, however, had no such reservations. He pulled the youth straight into his embrace.

It hadn’t felt like much at first, but the thought of how long the youth had been waiting made his heart ache.

Jing Chi held him tighter and murmured an apology. “Sorry. I came back late.”

He felt something warm and wet soaking into his chest.

“I… I thought you weren’t coming back.”

The youth’s voice cracked with sobs.

He had never been one to cry before, but this time he couldn’t hold it back.

Yu Xingzhou was truly terrified. What if Jing Chi never returned after today?

He feared that every precious moment they’d shared was just a figment of his imagination, that those memories didn’t exist at all.

He dreaded waking up one day to learn that everything had been reset from the start, and the person who’d been by his side was gone forever.

Jing Chi gently stroked the youth’s back, drawing him closer to share his warmth. His voice was soft but resolute. “How could I not come back? My Xingxing is here. I’d never stay away.”

The youth in his arms felt like a human ice cube. Jing Chi frowned, scooped him up without another word, and carried him toward the bathroom.

After that gentle reassurance, Yu Xingzhou felt much steadier. But remembering how he’d sobbed all over Jing Chi earlier made him cringe at his own lack of composure. Mortified, he buried his face in Jing Chi’s chest.

Jing Chi set him down in the bathtub. “How about a hot bath first? You’re freezing—I’m worried you’ll catch a cold.”

Yu Xingzhou nodded obediently. But as Jing Chi turned to leave, he felt a tug on his clothes.

Jing Chi glanced down and saw the youth clutching his shirt.

With a helpless pat on the youth’s hand, Jing Chi said, “I’m just going to grab you some clean clothes. You don’t want me sticking around to watch you get undressed, do you?”

Yu Xingzhou’s face flushed bright red at the words, chasing away the pallor left by the rain. He yanked his hand back, stammering, “N-No, that’s not what I meant!”

Jing Chi tousled the youth’s damp hair with a soft chuckle. “All right, then. Fill the tub, and I’ll bring the clothes right in.”

Yu Xingzhou nodded vigorously.

Once Jing Chi had stepped out, Yu Xingzhou covered his burning face and took a deep breath before twisting the faucet.

The sound of running water soon filled the bathroom.

Jing Chi headed to the closet and selected a set of his own clothes.

Figuring the youth had had enough time, he knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

A brief splash, then the youth’s voice: “Yeah.”

Jing Chi pushed the door open to a veil of steam.

A few steps in, he spotted the youth submerged to the neck in the tub.

Bubbles hid Yu Xingzhou’s body, leaving only his arms—steamed to a soft pink—and a fluffy head visible. A pair of blinking eyes peered up at him, shy and embarrassed.

Jing Chi set the clothes on a nearby rack. “Soak for a while, then come out. Don’t pass out on me. Call if you need anything—I’m right outside.”

He gathered up the youth’s wet clothes from the side and dropped them into the laundry basket.

Yu Xingzhou watched every move in wide-eyed fascination until the door clicked shut. Then reality hit: Jing Chi had handled his dirty clothes—including his underwear. Heat flooded his face, and he dunked his head underwater to cool off.

Roughly twenty minutes later, Yu Xingzhou cracked the bathroom door open.

Jing Chi looked up to find the youth’s cheeks rosy from the steam, his eyes bright and dewy, damp hair clinging softly to his forehead. The oversized clothes hung awkwardly on his frame as he stood there, ill at ease.

He resembled a perfectly ripe fruit, begging to be plucked.

Jing Chi cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious.

Yu Xingzhou tugged at his collar. He hadn’t realized how enormous Jing Chi’s clothes would be on him—one wrong move, and the shirt threatened to slip off his shoulders.

The pants were just as bad, baggy and loose, though the drawstring saved him from total disaster.

Watching the young man’s dripping hair, Jing Chi’s attention was drawn there.

“There’s a hairdryer in the bathroom cabinet. I forgot to tell you about it.” Jing Chi stood up, walked into the bathroom, and emerged moments later with the hairdryer in hand.

He beckoned to the young man. “Come here. I’ll dry your hair for you.”

Yu Xingzhou nodded and walked right over, positioning himself beside Jing Chi.

Soon the hairdryer hummed to life, sending warm air wafting over his scalp. Yu Xingzhou squinted his eyes a little, drowsiness gradually settling in.

His hand, still clutching the collar of his shirt, loosened without him realizing it, allowing the fabric to slip downward.

When Jing Chi finally switched off the hairdryer, the first thing he noticed was Yu Xingzhou’s pale, glistening shoulder.

With a soft sigh tinged with helplessness, he reached out and tugged the shirt back into place.

Yu Xingzhou, who had been on the verge of dozing off, snapped awake. His face burned even redder as he blurted without thinking, “I should head home.”

But Jing Chi caught his arm. “Stay here tonight. If you spike a fever later, at least I’ll be around to take care of you.”

Yu Xingzhou started to protest, but Jing Chi was insistent—and he had always been weak to Jing Chi’s wishes.

In the end, the two of them ended up lying side by side on the same bed. Jing Chi had prepared an extra blanket, which helped ease some of the young man’s tension.

The rain continued pounding outside when a sudden thunderclap boomed, a bolt of lightning tearing across the sky and briefly illuminating the dark bedroom.

Jing Chi felt the body next to him flinch. He suspected Yu Xingzhou was afraid of thunder.

But with that stubborn streak of his, he’d never admit it outright.

Jing Chi came up with a solution in short order.

He scooted closer to Yu Xingzhou and wrapped his arms around him in one smooth motion.

Thanks to Jing Chi’s persistent care over the past while, the young man had put on a bit of weight, though it wasn’t all that obvious. He was still on the slim side.

Yu Xingzhou stared at the arm draped across his chest and blinked slowly. “What’s up?”

Jing Chi buried his face in the crook of Yu Xingzhou’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of shower gel—identical to his own—and felt a quiet satisfaction.

His voice came out muffled against the skin: “Xingxing, I’m scared of the thunder. Can I hold you like this?”

Yu Xingzhou’s body, rigid from the sudden closeness, gradually relaxed as Jing Chi’s words sank in.

So Jing Chi was afraid of thunder too.

He reached up to stroke Jing Chi’s hair, mirroring the way Jing Chi had once comforted him. “It’s okay. Don’t be scared—I’m right here.”

In that moment, Yu Xingzhou’s own fear of the storm vanished. He had to be brave, to protect Jing Chi.

Jing Chi’s hand settled at Yu Xingzhou’s waist, pulling him even closer as he murmured a soft hum of acknowledgment.

The thunder outside seemed to fade away, lost in the warmth of their embrace.

The night slipped by with the two of them holding each other close.

After the rain cleared, the air felt crisp and fresh, the sun blazing brightly overhead.

They picked up breakfast on the way and ate as they strolled along.

At the school gates, Jing Chi was stunned to spot Jing Shao of all people.

Hadn’t he told him to prepare carefully? Why show up so early?

He yanked Yu Xingzhou behind the trunk of a sturdy tree, which concealed them perfectly.

Meanwhile, Jing Shao hadn’t expected to find Nan Musheng the instant he arrived.

Talk about lucky.

In the original novel’s plot, Jing Shao wasn’t due to enter the Illusion Realm until tomorrow afternoon—and even then, he wouldn’t have bumped into Nan Musheng by sheer coincidence.

That was how he’d been able to help Yu Xingzhou once or twice later on, during the school search.

But this time, running into Jing Chi—and hearing a few extra words from him—had gotten Jing Shao so worked up that he’d advanced his schedule by several hours.

Jing Chi hadn’t realized he’d inadvertently sabotaged his own plans.

“Musheng, it’s me—A-Shao.”

Jing Shao grabbed Nan Musheng’s arm just as he was about to head inside, his face alight with excitement.

Nan Musheng frowned at the unfamiliar face, irritation creeping into his voice. “Sorry, I don’t know you. I’m going to be late—let go of me.”

He wrenched his arm free.

Shock and disbelief filled Jing Shao’s eyes. “How could you not remember me? I’m Jing Shao!”

“Jing Shao?” Nan Musheng’s mind jumped straight to Jing Chi—the names were too similar.

“I get it. You must’ve been…”

Before he could finish, a hand clamped over his mouth from behind. Jing Chi shot Nan Musheng an apologetic glance before dragging Jing Shao away.

Nan Musheng watched them go, his earlier suspicions confirmed.

But why would someone connected to Jing Chi know him?

Nan Musheng sensed that something was off.

Meanwhile, Jing Chi first let Yu Xingzhou enter by himself, then turned to drag Jing Shao away. He was afraid this blabbermouth would cause him extra trouble.

“Bro, what are you doing here?” Jing Shao asked, his face lighting up with surprise.

Jing Chi figured his cousin probably wasn’t the brightest bulb. He shot back, “What do you think?”

Jing Shao’s eyes darted as he recalled his cousin’s usual style. With sudden confidence, he declared, “Bro, is there some nasty Evil Spirit lurking around here?”

Jing Chi arched a brow. He hadn’t expected the dimwit to guess anywhere close—even if it was totally off base.

Seeing Jing Chi’s reaction, Jing Shao leaned in eagerly. “Bro, I can help you out.”