Chapter 32

In the bathroom.

Steam swirled in the air, enveloping the two of them.

Jing Chi’s shoulder wound had been wrapped in plastic cling film before they entered, to keep the water out.

Yu Xingzhou scarcely dared open his eyes. All he could hear was the soft rustle of Jing Chi undressing.

It wasn’t until Jing Chi called out to him—”Xingxing, I’m ready”—that he shuffled over, dragging his feet.

He kept his gaze averted from the man before him, but his fingertips accidentally brushed against Jing Chi’s bare skin.

That familiar scorching heat, the soft yet resilient flesh—it made him jerk his hand back.

“I-I think I’ll wait outside. I know you can handle it on your own.”

The young man’s words came out in a stammer, his cheeks flushed pink, whether from the steam or something else.

Jing Chi’s lips curved in a faint smile. The moment he saw the other start to retreat, he seized the young man’s slender wrist and tugged him back.

Yu Xingzhou hadn’t anticipated the sudden pull.

Off balance, he instinctively wrapped his arms around Jing Chi’s waist.

In the process, his lips grazed Jing Chi’s shoulder.

Time seemed to halt right then, even as the showerhead poured steadily beside them.

Perhaps it was the rush of water that drowned out the pounding of their hearts.

“Your wound…”

Yu Xingzhou straightened up at once, tilting his head back, eyes filled with concern.

Jing Chi dipped his head instead, locking eyes with those obsidian depths. He let out a soft chuckle by the young man’s ear. “It’s fine. There’s something more important.”

His voice carried a husky edge, yet it was impossibly alluring.

A shiver raced from Yu Xingzhou’s ear, poised to flood his entire body. He murmured without thinking, “What?”

Mist gradually clouded the young man’s eyes, lending him a pitiful, vulnerable air as he looked up at Jing Chi—a look that only stirred the urge to tease him further.

“Of course…”

In the next instant, the words dissolved between their lips.

Yu Xingzhou’s eyes widened in shock. His fingers clenched tight.

Every thought fled his mind, leaving only the press of those lips and the familiar scent that soothed his heart.

Jing Chi’s arm slid around the young man’s slim waist, drawing him nearer.

The kiss began gentle, exploratory, carefully teasing and entwining, testing boundaries inch by inch.

Yu Xingzhou had no defenses against Jing Chi.

What started as light sampling soon turned bold, a brazen conquest met with nothing but yielding compliance and boundless indulgence.

Kissed until the edges of his eyes reddened, the young man went limp.

Jing Chi lifted him effortlessly and perched him on the nearby vanity.

The chill of the marble slab snapped Yu Xingzhou partly from his daze. Breathing raggedly, he blinked his eyes open. When Jing Chi leaned in again, he turned his head aside and whispered a plea:

“No… no more.”

The frantic heartbeat, the dizzying loss of breath—it was all so unfamiliar, leaving him flustered and unsure.

Jing Chi met those bewildered eyes, then brushed a tender kiss to the teardrop mole at the corner. Gently, he set the young man down.

Straightening the rumpled clothes, he tamped down the fire stirring inside him. His voice came out rough: “You go on out.”

Only then did Yu Xingzhou think to ask, “Don’t you need my help with the bath anymore?”

Jing Chi laughed, his gaze darkening. He tilted the young man’s chin up with a fingertip, caressing it lightly, a teasing smile playing on his lips:

“Does that mean Xingxing wants to join me? And pick up where we left off?”

The young man glanced up—and collided with those fathomless eyes. Danger prickled in the air. He shook his head wildly and fled.

Moments later, the sound of running water echoed from within.

When Jing Chi stepped out after his cold shower, there was no sign of the young man.

“Xingxing?” he called softly.

A few more calls went unanswered. Then, as if it had just occurred to him, he approached the Soul-Storing Casket. The lid, which had been open before, was now firmly shut.

Jing Chi chuckled to himself. He really must have spooked the kid—enough to make him dive straight inside.

~~~

The next day, Jing Chi let him out.

He lounged on the sofa, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back as he looked up at the young man. With deliberate accusation, he asked:

“Why’d you head back on your own yesterday?”

His eyes roamed freely over the young man.

“I-I… I was tired.”

Yu Xingzhou kept his head lowered as he replied, too embarrassed to meet Jing Chi’s eyes. The instant their gazes connected, memories of the previous night flooded his mind.

That searing kiss. Jing Chi’s dangerously intense stare.

“Is that so?” Jing Chi didn’t press the issue, smoothly changing the subject instead. “Does Xingxing want a body of his own?”

Yu Xingzhou’s current form relied entirely on spiritual energy. Fortunately, the Soul-Storing Casket provided constant nourishment, keeping his power from fading away.

The moment Jing Chi brought it up, the young man’s shyness vanished. He scooted right over to sit beside him, grabbing his arm. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he gazed up at Jing Chi. “Really? Is that possible?”

Jing Chi arched an eyebrow, nodding at first before adopting a mysterious expression. “Of course… but…”

The troubled look on his face made Yu Xingzhou’s heart clench. Anxiously, he blurted out, “What do you need? If it would hurt you, then forget it—I’m fine like this.”

How could the young man not crave a real body, a chance to live again under the sun? Yet in his heart, Jing Chi mattered far more.

Jing Chi hadn’t anticipated such a response. His playful teasing suddenly felt a little cruel.

He ruffled Yu Xingzhou’s hair and answered earnestly, “No, it won’t hurt me at all.”

“Really?” Delight lit up Yu Xingzhou’s face, though confusion lingered over Jing Chi’s earlier hesitation. Puzzled, he asked, “Then what were you going to say?”

Jing Chi cleared his throat, a touch embarrassed as he continued, “Well, actually… Xingxing has to pay me five kisses as compensation. Pretty cheap deal, huh?”

He braced for blushes or indignation, but instead, soft lips brushed the corner of his mouth.

“Is this okay?”

Deep down, Yu Xingzhou hoped that by taking the initiative, Jing Chi wouldn’t kiss him so fiercely as he had the night before.

Jing Chi saw through the ploy in an instant. Shaking his head, he said gravely, “Nope, that won’t cut it, Xingxing.”

Some people just had to take a mile when given an inch.

“Like this.”

He eased the young man back onto the sofa, hands planted on either side of him. Before Yu Xingzhou could react, Jing Chi claimed his lips.

Experience from their last encounter made this effortless.

Yet mindful of that prior time, Jing Chi kept things from escalating too far.

When the kiss finally broke, he pulled Yu Xingzhou upright again. The young man was utterly dazed, his mind adrift.

Jing Chi chuckled softly, tapping his forehead. Seizing the moment while he was still foggy-headed, he teased, “That was just interest. You still owe me five more, Xingxing.”

In his haze, Yu Xingzhou murmured his agreement.

It wasn’t until clarity returned—and he caught Jing Chi’s smug grin—that he grasped what he’d committed to.

He was starting to grow accustomed to the sensation of Jing Chi’s kisses, it seemed.

Still, being played like a fiddle was downright aggravating.

“Hmph!” Yu Xingzhou huffed, turning his head away with puffed cheeks.

Jing Chi rose and headed into the study.

He emerged moments later with an item in hand, sidling up to Yu Xingzhou and announcing deliberately, “Time to craft Xingxing’s body. No objections? Then I’ll make it ugly.”

That snapped Yu Xingzhou to attention. “No! Make it good-looking!”

“Oh, right. Short and cute, then.”

“No—tall!” Yu Xingzhou clutched Jing Chi’s hand.

“Mm, got it. Nice and fat.”

The teasing was pushing the young man to the brink of tears.

His eyes reddened with frustration, panic rising at the thought of Jing Chi actually crafting something hideous, squat, and plump.

Jing Chi fought back laughter, fiddling with the object while pointedly ignoring him.

Unable to bear it, Yu Xingzhou clambered onto Jing Chi’s lap, looping his arms around his neck. With a quavering, indignant voice, he declared, “If you make me something ugly, I’ll… I’ll drag you straight to hell with me!”

Jing Chi wrapped an arm around his waist, struck by how truly upset he looked. The act crumbled; he pressed a gentle kiss to Yu Xingzhou’s forehead and soothed him. “Mm, I’ll make a handsome one for our Xingxing, promise.”

Only then did Yu Xingzhou relax, realizing it had all been in fun. No longer mad, he nestled into Jing Chi’s chest—shy, but pressing on with his requests. “Then I also want…”

His voice was so faint Jing Chi could barely hear. “What else?”

Blushing, Yu Xingzhou murmured, “I want it bigger down there.”

They were men, after all. Certain desires were only natural.

“Where?”

Amusement danced in Jing Chi’s eyes. He hadn’t realized the young man in his arms harbored such cheeky thoughts.

Yu Xingzhou stammered, not daring to say another word. He’d already mustered all his courage just moments ago.

Jing Chi leaned in close to the young man’s ear and teased, “Actually, you don’t have to. Xingxing won’t be needing it anyway.”

Yu Xingzhou blinked in confusion at first, then caught on. Furious and mortified, he leaped out of Jing Chi’s arms and retreated to his casket.

Well. He’d gone and chased him off again.

Jing Chi shook his head helplessly.

He pulled out the spiritual soil. This was no ordinary dirt. With it, one could craft an entirely new body, then infuse it with a soul. After a month, the spiritual soil would fully merge with the soul body, yielding flesh indistinguishable from a living human’s.

Jing Chi molded the soil into the likeness of a man in his twenties, basing it on the young man’s current features. This new form was fully mature, stripped of the boyish awkwardness it once held.

The laborious project took him two full days, but at last, it was done.

Yu Xingzhou gazed at his new body and nodded in satisfaction.

“See you in a month, then?”

Jing Chi had already briefed him on all the precautions. Yet the thought of a full month apart left Yu Xingzhou reluctant. He stepped close to Jing Chi, rose on tiptoe, and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.

“See you in a month.”

The young man’s soul body dissolved into a streak of light and slipped into the waiting form.

Jing Chi began the incantation. Gradually, a veil of white radiance enveloped the body.

Now all he could do was wait—for the day Yu Xingzhou’s eyes would open once more.

Time flew by. In the blink of an eye, the month was nearly spent.

These past days, Jing Shao had dropped by Jing Chi’s place every few days. His university was conveniently nearby.

Catching sight of the eager longing in Jing Chi’s eyes, he couldn’t resist asking, “Bro, when are you gonna tell Uncle?”

Jing Chi shot him a cool glance. “Mind your own business.”

Since that last incident, Jing Shao had convinced himself their bond was tighter than ever. Undeterred, he pressed on shamelessly. “By the way, Bro, you’re using spiritual soil to make him a body. You know about that other thing?”

The question piqued Jing Chi’s interest. “What other thing?”

Jing Shao scratched his head. “I saw it once in our family’s Scripture Pavilion. Apparently, after forming a physical body with spiritual soil, you might lose the memories from your time as a soul body.”

Jing Chi froze mid-motion. “Say that again?”

“It might wipe some memories—or it might not. Ha, ha.”

Seeing his brother’s darkening expression, Jing Shao clammed up. He’d only glimpsed it in some dusty old tome shoved in a forgotten corner.

“Bro, I’m outta here. Catch you next time.”

Realizing he’d put his foot in it, Jing Shao bolted for the door.

Jing Chi’s face soured as he turned to the System. “Is that true?”

The System gave a light cough, sounding sheepish. “Er, yes. I forgot to mention it to the Host.”

It hurried to add, “But Host, knowing ahead of time wouldn’t change a thing. If you want a physical body, this is the only way—and the memory loss is just a chance, nothing guaranteed.”

Jing Chi headed to the room holding Yu Xingzhou’s body. The glow overhead was fading; the young man would awaken soon.

The System had a point. Even with forewarning, there were no alternatives.

All he could do was hope for no memory loss.

He turned to shut the door.

But in that instant, the glow vanished entirely. The figure on the bed stirred, eyes fluttering open.

From behind him came a voice—familiar, yet utterly alien.

Jing Chi halted abruptly.

In an odd tone, it asked, “Excuse me… who are you?”