Chapter 18: Staying Overnight? Why Are Both Rooms So Shabby

Beneath the neon lights, the shadows of two people swept past.

He Zhuchun rode at an unhurried pace across the intersection, then swung into the street where the shop stood. The neon faded; the lamplight turned cold and pale all at once.

Lu You, on the rear seat, kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep. The tall streetlamps sweeping past brushed their light over his crown one by one, illuminating his already pallid skin until it seemed nearly translucent.

Qin Shuheng heard the familiar rattle of the battered e-bike from far off, and was waiting at the door early, waving the two in. He Zhuchun saw him, rode another stretch, and braked to a stop; the head behind him knocked forward against his back with the momentum, and he reached back and pointed.

“Give him a hand. He looks about worn through.”

Qin Shuheng hurried over for a look at Lu You’s face, and clicked his tongue. “Master’s overdrawn himself again, hasn’t he? Just look what a wreck he’s become!”

He Zhuchun craned his head back for a look too—and happened upon Lu You lifting his head; their gazes collided unawares.

Lu You had half-slumbered, half-lucid the whole ride, his consciousness foggy, and then wind on top of it—the night air now carrying a real bite of chill. Sure enough, two patches of red had been whipped onto his cheeks, blooming there… making him look a little countrified, somehow.

This dazed expression sat poorly indeed with Grand Immortal Lu’s usual poise.

He Zhuchun couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. “Great Immortal, awake? If you’re awake, come on down.”

Lu You nodded; dismounting, he staggered, and Qin Shuheng’s quick hands steadied and righted him.

His face was full of worry. “Just how big a favor did you help with, to wind up this exhausted?”

Lu You worked to stand straight, drew back his hands, and strode toward the shop, saying only, “Nothing much. All small matters.”

He entered the shop; He Zhuchun, by the faint light leaking through the glass door, parked the bike—and was promptly intercepted by Qin Shuheng squaring his shoulders in the way.

He lifted a brow, a look telling Qin Shuheng to spit it out.

Qin Shuheng asked, “What jobs did he work all evening?”

He Zhuchun thought it over and summed up the night. “Fought a Vengeful Immortal, established a Household Guardian Altar Hall, and fixed somebody’s back.”

Qin Shuheng emitted a sharp, strangled shriek. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him? Why did you let him work this much!”

He Zhuchun said, “I didn’t know this stuff was off-limits.”

“Can’t tell what he can and can’t do, and you can’t even see when he’s tired?” Qin Shuheng stamped his foot in fury and hurried into the shop, tossing back over his shoulder halfway there, “You’re utterly unreliable!”

He Zhuchun rubbed his nose, unbothered, and followed inside.

Inside, Lu You sat once more in the Executive Chair. The overhead lamp burned above him; for writing’s sake Qin Shuheng had added a small desk lamp at the table’s edge, and now its light fell across half of Lu You’s face—warm yellow tones sketching clean lines, his sculpted features cast into shadow that played faintly over the other half of his face.

The young Incense-Bearing Disciple’s eyes were lowered, his long, elegant hand resting on the table’s edge, one hand propping his head, the other turning through the pages of scripture Qin Shuheng had just finished copying. His pale pupils passed over the lines meticulously, then lifted to the second sheet, examining onward with care.

He Zhuchun leaned arms-crossed against the glass door’s frame, half his body sunk in shadow, smile hooked, drinking in the small theater of Lu You’s face beneath the lamp—brows knitting, easing, knitting again—and a line drifted unbidden into his mind.

—No wonder the internet insists that focused men are the most handsome.

He really is handsome, He Zhuchun thought.

If he were a young girl, he’d probably have fallen for a stunner like this too—capable beyond measure, brimming with responsibility, and with a face that could take a beating.

Where He Zhuchun lounged in easy appreciation, Qin Shuheng was wound far tighter. He stood before the table like a primary schooler, no mind to spare for vexing thoughts of his Master’s crushing Karmic Debt or He Zhuchun’s unkeepable promises—every fiber of him praying only that this earnest copy held no errors, and that it might safely survive his Master’s inspection.

Perhaps his prayers were simply too sincere: Lu You turned the last page, stacked all the scriptures into a neat pile, and said, “Well written.”

Qin Shuheng exhaled at once, silently thanking Heaven for its protection.

“It’s late. Go rest.” Having settled Qin Shuheng, Lu You turned his gaze to He Zhuchun. “What’s your plan tonight? Can you still make it back to campus?”

He Zhuchun checked the time and shook his head. “Past dorm curfew.”

Lu You rubbed his brow—a nerve twitching a dull ache at his temple. “Then I’ll book you a hotel.”

He Zhuchun said, “Why the fuss? I’ll just crash here at your place for the night.”

The words were barely out—and Lu You hadn’t yet reacted—but the gaydar in Qin Shuheng’s head blared an instant alarm; he jerked his head up. “No! Absolutely not!”

He Zhuchun asked, “Why not?”

Qin Shuheng turned it over and over, decided he couldn’t exactly accuse the man point-blank, and merely stood his ground. “This place is small. It can’t hold you. Go find a room outside!”

He Zhuchun laughed again. “I sleep very properly. No rolling, no teeth-grinding, no snoring, no sleepwalking. I won’t take up any room.”

Qin Shuheng said, “It’s a no, period. Wear your lips to ribbons; it won’t help.”

“Is that so?”

He Zhuchun turned, looking to Lu You. “Great Immortal Lu, your verdict?”

Lu You leaned toward Qin Shuheng’s position and began, “I also think you’d best head out and—”

“I have a question, Great Immortal Lu.” He Zhuchun raised a hand, cutting him off.

Lu You had the habit of going quiet whenever someone else took the floor; he paused. “Speak.”

He Zhuchun then said, “Actually, ever since I was small, I’ve been terribly afraid of staying in hotels alone.”

He squirmed, coy. “You know how it is—those places are the least clean of anywhere, and my constitution is weak. If I go and attract some ghost or monster, my own suffering would be one thing, but it’d mean troubling you to step in again, and I simply couldn’t bear the imposition.”

As he spoke, he blinked, his fine features kneading themselves into a thoroughly pitiful expression.

Lu You, hearing this, actually considered it. “…Fair point.”

Qin Shuheng heaved a deep sigh, the sigh of a man watching his own disappointing child. “Master!”

On his call, He Zhuchun followed up, “Great Immortal Lu?”

Lu You looked at this one, then that one, and weighed it. “Then tonight you may as well crash here. If you don’t mind the accommodations.”

He Zhuchun hurried, “Not minding! Not minding at all!”

Qin Shuheng, teeth nearly ground to powder, shot He Zhuchun a vicious glare, thinking: A scheming gay after all!

It was only when the sleeping arrangements came up that He Zhuchun learned there was a rest room on the First Floor too, beside the Storage Room where Qin Shuheng had dug out the helmet that day—a modest room holding only the basics: a bed, a wardrobe, a desk. The window sat on the side; the daylight through it was decent enough.

Qin Shuheng said, “This is my bedroom. You can share it with me tonight.”

He Zhuchun said, “But I want to room with Great Immortal Lu.”

Qin Shuheng: “…”

Qin Shuheng could no longer be bothered to speak.

In truth He Zhuchun’s motive was simple: he assumed the Second Floor bedroom would be roomier. But when Lu You pushed open the Second Floor door and He Zhuchun peeked in—Yellow Joss Paper, finished Paper Gold Ingots, Burial Shrouds, Paper Effigies, Lulutong Fortune Jade Beads and every other funerary good, stacked to bursting.

He Zhuchun was devastated.

He asked Lu You, “You master and disciple are a real riot. One of you lives beside the Storage Room, and the other lives in it.”

Lu You ignored him, saying only, “Pick.”

He Zhuchun eyed the interior—nearly no gap left to set a foot down—steels his heart, and in the end said, “I’ll room with you.”

Lu You: “Fine.”

The Second Floor was somewhat smaller than the first; besides that half-bedroom, half-warehouse of a room, it also held the shop’s only bathroom—even fitted out with wet-dry separation.

Lu You dug a brand-new toothbrush from the bathroom drawer, tore it open, and handed it over.

He Zhuchun took it, looked, and said, “Thanks.”

The toothbrush was pink.

Lu You said, “This was the only color left.”

He Zhuchun laughed. “I don’t mind.”

Once both had washed up, He Zhuchun shed his outer jacket and slept pressed against the wall in his undershirt.

Lu You’s habit was to sleep in pajamas—so sharing a bed, at least, never quite descended to skin-on-skin awkwardness.

Lu You killed the light and lay down beside him; He Zhuchun felt the mattress dip beside him, swallowed hard, and a strange flutter overtook him—like a new bride entering the bridal chamber on her wedding night.

He called Lu You’s name softly, “Lu You?”

Lu You lay flat on his side, and answered with a flat sound.

He Zhuchun said, “Is your phone on you?”

Lu You said, “It is.”

He Zhuchun said, “Lend it to me a bit?”

Lu You fished it out and handed it over. “Password is six sixes.”

He Zhuchun punched in a string of sixes, unlocked the screen, then dug out his own phone and tapped a few times; switched back to Lu You’s phone and tapped a few more; swiped up and down, checking it all over, and handed it back.

Lu You took the phone, looked, and frowned. “Why did you transfer me money?”

He Zhuchun said, “Ritual Fee. For the Negative Yin Peach Blossom Karma exorcism.”

Lu You looked at the “30,000 — received” notice on the screen and transferred it straight back. “I didn’t ask you for it. No need to pay.”

“That won’t do.” He Zhuchun laughed and declined the refund, then patted himself down, dug something out, and tucked it beneath Lu You’s pillow.

Lu You asked, “And now what?”

He Zhuchun answered, “From Chen Lihua, entrusted through me. Also a Ritual Fee.”

Lu You sighed. “I didn’t ask any of you for it.”

“Then we can’t very well not give.” Seeing Lu You about to say more, He Zhuchun cut him off. “All right, Great Immortal Lu, we all know you’re aloof and incorruptible. But as you told that Miss Lin yourself—every trade has its own rules. You can’t hold others to the rules while doing exactly as you please, can you?”

He teased, “Do not impose on others what you would not choose for yourself, hm, Great Immortal Lu?”

Lu You had no recourse but, “That’s not what I meant.”

He Zhuchun: “If it’s not what you meant, then keep the Red Envelope.”

Lu You, out of rebuttals on both flanks, shut his mouth in defeat.

Only then was He Zhuchun satisfied; he rolled over to face the wall and closed his eyes. “You’ve been at it all day. Rest early. Goodnight.”

Lu You was indeed dreadfully drowsy; he lay flat, squared and straight, and answered low, “Goodnight.”

Given Lu You’s invariably upright and proper conduct whenever conscious, He Zhuchun ought to have assumed the man slept just as decorously—so he dropped off without a worry. Sadly, that trust lasted exactly half an hour past Lu You falling asleep.

By then He Zhuchun was deep in dreamland himself, but midway in, his chest began to starve for air—something of a thousand-jun weight pressing on it, bent on stealing his breath while he slept, suffocating him unconscious, suffocating him dead.

He sucked in a violent gasp; He Zhuchun snapped awake, propping himself on one hand to look down at his own body—and discovered the “thousand-jun weight” was in fact half a leg belonging to Grandmaster Lu.

The two had been lying side by side when they fell asleep, and barely minutes in, Lu You was already sleeping head askew and legs astray: half his upper body had slithered clean off the edge of the bed, one leg bent and pinning He Zhuchun at the root of his thigh, while the other grew positively lawless—slung across He Zhuchun’s entire upper body, charging straight for his armpit.

He Zhuchun hurriedly shoved the leg off, panting twice, faintly speechless—but after a moment of speechlessness he abruptly broke into laughter, as though the scene before him were absurd to the point of comedy.

Stoically, he fished Lu You back from the bed’s edge, squared the man’s limbs, tucked in the blanket, double-checked everything twice for any oversight, and only then lay back down, satisfied, murmuring:

“Behave. Or I’ll spank you.”

What answered him was a room full of silence.