Just as he was racking his brain for an excuse to refuse, he suddenly noticed Shen Qi’s soaked inner garment clinging to his body, revealing patches of dark scars through the semi-transparent fabric.
His attention immediately shifted.
He grabbed Shen Qi’s wrist and rolled up his sleeve, frowning at the gruesome scars on his arm.
“What happened to these injuries?”
Only then did Shen Qi realize his old wounds had been exposed.
A flash of malice crossed his eyes as he pulled his hand back silently, tugging his sleeve down without answering.
But the thin, wet fabric stuck to his skin, offering no concealment.
Mu Congyun’s heart tightened, but seeing Shen Qi lower his head in reluctance, he suddenly didn’t want to press further.
Instead, he said, “Shizun has a scar-removing ointment called White Jade Balm. I used it whenever I got injured from sword practice-it leaves no scars. When we return, I’ll ask for a couple of bottles.”
How could mere White Jade Balm regrow plucked dragon scales?
Shen Qi couldn’t help but sneer, waves of malice surging within him.
His sinister expression was barely contained, and had he not kept his head lowered, it would surely have been noticed.
Running his tongue over his teeth, Shen Qi suppressed the clamoring urge to kill and silently embraced Mu Congyun.
It wasn’t easy to find someone this interesting-how could he bear to kill him now?
Burying his face in the crook of Mu Congyun’s neck, he nuzzled against it, inhaling the clean, crisp scent of his body.
The warm water had made Mu Congyun’s body temperature slightly higher than usual, which Shen Qi found even more pleasing.
He tightened his arms, pressing himself closer.
The soaked clothes clinging to his skin were already uncomfortable, and now with Shen Qi pressing insistently against him, Mu Congyun shifted slightly in discomfort.
But when his hand brushed against the scars on Shen Qi’s back, he froze.
He sighed and patted Shen Qi’s slender back gently.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. From now on, your shixiong won’t let anyone bully you.”
Shen Qi gave a quiet “Mm.”
After a while, he asked, “Shixiong, do you think I’m ugly?”
Mu Congyun was puzzled. “Why would I?”
Seeing those scars only made his heart ache.
He couldn’t imagine what Shen Qi had endured to be left with such marks.
Shen Qi muttered, “Those people all called me a freak, a monster.”
Mu Congyun frowned, anger already stirring.
Shen Qi was only sixteen or seventeen now, and if he were younger, barely over ten-what kind of person would insult a child like that?
“They’re the ones blind to the truth,” Mu Congyun said firmly.
“Right.”
The seething malice in his heart subsided.
Shen Qi lifted his head to look at him and repeated, “They’re the ones blind to the truth.”
Those blind to the truth-just pluck out their eyes.
Fortunately, shixiong wasn’t like them.
Shen Qi brightened again.
He released Mu Congyun and sat closely beside him, his expression innocent and guileless.
“Shixiong isn’t like them.”
* * *
After leaving the bath, the two changed into clean clothes. Shen Qi went to fetch a stove.
“I’ll dry shixiong’s hair for you.”
His own hair was half-damp and loose, his brows and lashes still glistening with moisture.
When he smiled, his eyes curved, as if he had already forgotten his earlier sorrow.
“Come here,” Mu Congyun beckoned.
Shen Qi approached and was pulled down to sit in front of him.
He turned his head, about to speak, when Mu Congyun said, “Stay still. Let me dry your hair first.”
He froze as cool fingers threaded through his hair.
Mu Congyun first used a cloth to pat his damp hair until it was half-dry.
His movements were gentle, not even tugging a single strand.
Once the moisture was absorbed, he combed through it with his fingers, channeling warm Spiritual Power from his palms to dry the remaining dampness.
The soothing warmth dispelled the last traces of gloom from Shen Qi’s heart.
He couldn’t help but wonder what expression was Mu Congyun wearing right now?
It must be very gentle.
But soon he dismissed the thought.
Mu Congyun’s expressions were few, and it was hard to discern anything from his face alone.
But the light shimmering in his eyes must be breathtaking.
Shen Qi wanted to turn and confirm the look on his face, but he couldn’t bear to interrupt this rare moment of tenderness.
He could only turn his head slightly, catching a glimpse of half his face through a bronze mirror placed on a distant table.
Mu Congyun’s features were exceptionally refined, even his eyelashes thicker and darker than most.
When they drooped slightly, the shadows they cast carried a hint of tender warmth.
Shen Qi stared intently at the mirror, narrowing his eyes as he sighed contentedly.
He recalled a time when he had seen Yin Jiao’s mother combing her son’s hair.
Yin Jiao’s mother was his father’s principal wife, hailing
from the noble Zhongshan Zhulong clan, her status lofty and her demeanor proud.
Yet even this haughty woman would gently tend to Yin Jiao’s hair in private.
Back then, he had still harbored illusions, imagining that if his own mother had remained in Zhongshan, she too might have cared for him with such tenderness.
Shen Qi fixed his gaze on the reflection in the bronze mirror, savoring the words “shixiong” (senior brother).
His mother had disappointed him, but this unexpectedly acquired shixiong continued to surprise him in many ways.
Shixiong, shixiong…
Shen Qi mulled over the term, his lips curling into a smile.
In this life, he had neither parents nor kin.
If he could have a shixiong to accompany him on the path of reincarnation, perhaps it wouldn’t be so lonely.
Mu Congyun carefully dampened and dried his hair before tending to himself.
Returning the kindness, Shen Qi took a cloth and gently wiped his shixiong’s hair dry.
By the time both were ready to rest, an hour had already passed.
Shen Qi lay on his side facing Mu Congyun, inching closer until he was pressed against him.
Satisfied, he wrapped his arms around the other and softly called, “Shixiong.”
“Hmm?”
Mu Congyun lay flat on his back, proper as ever.
Though still somewhat uncomfortable, it was no longer as difficult to fall asleep as the first time.
Shen Qi shook his head without speaking, tightening his embrace and greedily inhaling the clean scent.
* * *
The Red Rose Courtyard was secluded, far from the clamor of the mountain gate.
As the daytime bustle faded, the quiet night revealed more sounds.
Shen Qi opened his eyes, glancing at the swaying tree shadows outside before slowly sitting up.
Mu Congyun was still deep in sleep.
Shen Qi lightly tapped the space between his brows, causing faint gray mist to disperse and settle over
Mu Congyun’s face, ensuring he slept even more soundly.
Donning his outer robe, Shen Qi slipped out of the room without a sound.
A breeze stirred in the courtyard, rustling the red roses covering the walls, their leaves whispering softly.
Shen Qi stood in the yard as barely perceptible gray mist spread from his feet, expanding like a spider’s web.
Moments later, a gray seed sprouted somewhere.
Sensing its location, Shen Qi concealed his form and soared into the air.
Following the aura of the defiled essence, Shen Qi traced it to the garden in the rear courtyard.
The garden was filled with red roses, but the person he sought was nowhere in sight.
– Earlier, when the maidservant had attempted to bewitch him, he had taken the opportunity to plant defiled essence within her.
Just now, he had activated it to track her, yet contrary to his expectations, he hadn’t found her.
Closing his eyes to sense further, Shen Qi’s gaze locked onto a black butterfly resting on a red rose.
The butterfly perched with folded wings, only its antennae twitching slightly.
After a moment’s observation, Shen Qi raised a finger and pointed from a distance, extracting a dormant strand of defiled essence from the butterfly.
The filth essence he had planted had unexpectedly appeared on the butterfly.
This was rather intriguing.
Numerous speculations flashed through his mind, but Shen Qi didn’t disturb the butterfly and instead retraced his steps back.
*@Infinite good literature, all in Jinjiang Literature City
Early the next morning, Mu Congyun woke up to a familiar sense of suffocation.
Opening his eyes, he saw Shen Qi clinging to him as usual, limbs wrapped around him, half his body pressing down, his face buried in the crook of Mu Congyun’s shoulder.
“……”
Mu Congyun was speechless and could only painstakingly peel the person off.
Shen Qi had already woken up by the time Mu Congyun started moving.
He sat up sleepily and greeted, “Good morning, Senior Brother.”
His face still carried a dazed expression, his eyes not fully open before he smiled at Mu Congyun.
The slight irritation in Mu Congyun’s heart instantly dissipated, and he returned the greeting, “Morning.”
After both had dressed and freshened up, a maid arrived with morning tea, saying, “Breakfast is being prepared. Please have some tea first, Immortal Master.”
Mu Congyun thanked her and reached out to take the cup, but the maid tilted her hand, spilling the entire cup onto his clothes.
Though the tea wasn’t scalding, it was still quite hot. Mu Congyun stood up abruptly.
The maid apologized while pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the tea stains from his clothes, her body swaying as if boneless, leaning toward him.
Mu Congyun instinctively stepped back, staring wide-eyed at the maid now sitting on the floor, his voice uncharacteristically sharp as he demanded, “What are you doing?!”
The maid sat pitifully on the ground, tearfully saying, “This servant only wanted to wipe the stains for the Immortal Master.”
Her tearful, red-eyed appearance left Mu Congyun at a loss.
Everything had happened too quickly, and he wasn’t sure if he’d misunderstood.
Just as he hesitated over whether to help her up, Shen Qi emerged from behind the screen, drawn by the commotion.
He stepped between Mu Congyun and the maid.
“You made a mistake, yet you have the nerve to cry?”
The maid looked up at him, noting his youthful face, and her expression grew even more pitiful.
She sobbed, “I didn’t mean to. Please spare me, Immortal Masters. If Madam Liu finds out I failed to serve you properly, she’ll surely punish me.”
She trembled as she bowed low, her thin summer robes unable to conceal her delicate curves.
Even her soft sobs seemed to carry a bewitching rhythm.
Shen Qi’s eyes darkened.
He grabbed a tablecloth and draped it over her.
Turning back to Mu Congyun, he said innocently, “Senior Brother, this sister’s clothes are wet. I covered her with the tablecloth.”
The maid, who had just freed herself from the cloth.
“…..”
Her eyes misty, she tried to speak again, but Mu Congyun’s expression had already turned cold.
“If you don’t leave now, I’ll report this to Sect Leader Baili and Madam Liu.”
The maid shuddered at his words and didn’t dare linger.
Clutching the tablecloth, she hurriedly stood and retreated.
Mu Congyun watched her leave, his expression thoughtful.
Just now, he seemed to have glimpsed a faintly visible butterfly between her shoulder blades.
Its wings fluttered slightly, as though alive.
Seeing him still staring in the direction of the maidservant, Shen Qi tugged at his sleeve somewhat unhappily, his tone uneasy: “Senior Brother, should I not have driven her away?”
“You did nothing wrong.”
Mu Congyun shook his head.
“That maidservant is full of peculiarities—definitely no good. If you encounter her again, remember to keep your distance.”
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