Xue Laohu collapsed onto the damp forest floor, his face contorted in a grimace as groans of pain escaped his lips. Xue Tuzi's panicked scream cut through the stillness of the night, jolting Li Zhameng awake.
"Shizun!" Xue Tuzi's voice trembled as he crouched beside his fallen Shizun, his hands shaking as he tried to assess the injury.
Li Zhameng scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with terror. "What happened?!" he cried, rushing to Xue Laohu's side.
"He just… fell," Xue Tuzi said, his voice tight with worry. "Help me get him back to the sect."
Together, they hoisted their Shizun's limp body, struggling under his weight as they made their way back to Sect Mount Dingbu. The journey was long, and Xue Laohu's labored breathing filled the silence, each rasp a dagger to their hearts.
Once inside the sect's medical hall, Xue Tuzi gently laid Xue Laohu on the cot, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening on his Shizun's forehead.
"What could have happened?" Xue Tuzi muttered, his brows knitting together as he checked Xue Laohu's pulse. His hands trembled as he pressed his fingers to the vein. "His qi… it's erratic and unstable."
Li Zhameng stood at the foot of the bed, his hands gripping the wooden frame as tears streamed down his face. "It's my fault!" he wailed. "I caused Shizun to hit his head! Now he's suffering because of me." He buried his face in the sheets, his shoulders shaking with guilt.
"Stop blaming yourself, Meng Meng," Xue Tuzi said firmly, though his own voice wavered. "We need to focus on helping him, not falling apart."
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and a moment later, Sect Leader Mao entered the room. His flowing robes trailed behind him, and his silver beard gleamed under the flickering lamplight.
"I heard Grandmaster Xue has fallen ill," he said gravely, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder. He stroked his beard as he approached the bedside, his sharp gaze falling on Xue Laohu, who twisted and turned as if caught in the throes of a nightmare. "Could it be another qi deviation?"
Xue Tuzi's eyes darted to Sect Leader Mao. "It's possible, but I don't know the cause. His condition is…" Sect Leader Mao swallowed hard. "Is worse than before."
Sect Leader Mao sighed heavily, his gaze darkening. "There are pills that can help alleviate his pain, but…" He trailed off, watching Xue Laohu's restless form. "This is something he must overcome himself."
The weight of his words settled heavily in the room. Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng exchanged anxious glances, their faces pale with worry. Sect Leader Mao handed Li Zhameng a prescription written in flowing, deliberate script.
"Gather the herbs quickly," he instructed. "Time is of the essence."
Li Zhameng didn't hesitate. Grabbing a basket, he sprinted out to the meadows, his heart pounding with guilt and desperation. "If only I hadn't been so careless…" he muttered under his breath, tears stinging his eyes as he plucked the herbs.
In the medical hall, Xue Tuzi busied himself preparing the medication, his hands deftly slicing roots and mixing powders. The sharp, herbal aroma filled the air as the concoction simmered over the fire.
"Shizun must have exhausted too much energy while in that demon's body," Xue Tuzi said, his voice low but laced with anger. His fingers tightened around the ladle, his brows furrowing deeply.
Unbeknownst to him, Shudu stood hidden behind a pillar, his red eye glowing faintly in the shadows. A menacing aura seeped from his body, filling the room with an almost suffocating tension. "Hmph," he sneered to himself. "It's always the demon's fault, isn't it?" His voice was a low growl, his teeth clenched as he struggled to restrain his fury.
"Master," a soft voice whispered. Xiao Zongzi, her long skinny legs trembling, approached cautiously. "Why do we stay here? We should leave this place and never return."
Shudu turned to her, his eyes blazing with red fire. "And leave Xiao Jiao behind?" he snarled, slamming his fist into the stone wall. The impact left a crater, dust and fragments scattering around them.
Xiao Zongzi flinched, lowering her gaze. "But Xiao Jiao doesn't recognize you as his master…" she murmured. Her voice wavered as she dared to speak the painful truth. "He's chosen Second Master."
Shudu's jaw tightened, his rage simmering beneath the surface. He knew she was right, but it didn't lessen the sting. Jiao Jiao, born of his own essence, had turned away from him, instead gravitating toward Xue Tuzi's warmth and care.
Xiao Zongzi glanced toward Xue Tuzi, who worked diligently by the fire, his serene features illuminated by the flickering light. She sighed softly, understanding at last. "It's him, isn't it? You stay for him."
Shudu's silence was answer enough. Xiao Zongzi climbed up to the rafters, resigning herself to spinning her webs and catching what meals she could.
Below, the tension remained thick in the air. Shudu's gaze lingered on Xue Tuzi, his expression a mixture of bitterness and longing.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity as Xue Tuzi stirred the pot of herbs simmering over a small flame. The fragrant aroma of medicinal roots filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of incense drifting in from the hall. Across the counter, Li Zhameng fidgeted, his eyes fixed on Xue Tuzi's methodical movements.
"Meng Meng," Xue Tuzi said, pulling a ladle from Li Zhameng's grasp before he could dip it into the pot. "If I let you make Shizun's medicine, I'm afraid you'll poison him by accident. Let me handle it."
Li Zhameng's face flushed, his fists clenching at his sides. "You always want to do everything! I'm Shizun's disciple too, you know!" His voice was sharp with frustration, he stomped his foot like a child denied a toy.
Xue Tuzi didn't look up, calmly wiping the ladle clean and setting it aside. "Yes, you are Shizun's disciple," he replied, his tone pointed. "But you're also inept in the kitchen."
Li Zhameng's jaw dropped, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "I'm not inept!" he snapped, his hands gripping the counter as if preparing to launch himself into an argument.
Xue Tuzi sighed and set down his spoon, turning to face Li Zhameng with an air of exasperated patience. "Really?" he asked, one brow arched. "Do you remember the soup you made for Shizun? The one so spicy it gave him a stomachache?"
Li Zhameng's fiery demeanor wilted slightly, and he glanced down at the floor. "…Yes," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
"And Shizun still ate it," Xue Tuzi continued, crossing his arms. "Even though it burned his lips. Do you remember that?"
Li Zhameng nodded reluctantly, his pout deepening.
"And then there was the time you insisted those mushrooms you found were edible." Xue Tuzi leaned closer, his eyes locking onto Li Zhameng's. "Do you remember what happened?"
Li Zhameng turned his head away, avoiding Xue Tuzi's gaze. "…Yes," he admitted softly.
"We vomited for three days straight after eating them," Xue Tuzi said, his voice rising slightly. "Three. Days."
"Okay, okay!" Li Zhameng burst out, placing his hands over Xue Tuzi's mouth to stop him from speaking further. "I get it. I'm not fit to make Shizun's medicine." He sighed dramatically, his lips forming a sulky pout.
Xue Tuzi chuckled softly and pried Li Zhameng's hands away. "You can help in other ways," he said with a small, teasing smile. "But let me handle the cooking."
Li Zhameng huffed and plopped down onto a nearby chair, crossing his arms as he watched Xue Tuzi return to the stove. He muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched. Xue Tuzi stirred the pot with practiced ease, the spoon moving in smooth, deliberate circles.
The two fell into a comfortable silence, the soft bubbling of the medicinal concoction filling the room. Though Li Zhameng's irritation lingered, he found himself watching Xue Tuzi's careful movements with a begrudging admiration.
Once the medication was ready, Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng carried the steaming bowl carefully to Xue Laohu's room. The air inside was heavy, filled with the sound of their Shizun's harsh, labored breathing. His face was pale, glistening with sweat, and flushed with fever. His body twitched as he writhed in a nightmare's grip, low, pained groans escaping his lips.
"Poor Shizun… he's in pain," Li Zhameng whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. He rushed to the bedside, grabbing a clean cloth, dunking it in a basin of cold water, and wringing it out before gently placing it on Xue Laohu's burning forehead. "This should help a little…" he murmured, his heart aching at the sight of his Shizun's torment.
Xue Tuzi sat beside Xue Laohu and brought the bowl of medicine to his lips, blowing on it carefully to cool it down. "Shizun, please, drink this," he urged softly, tilting the bowl and attempting to guide the warm liquid into Xue Laohu's mouth.
But Xue Laohu resisted, his head jerking weakly as the medicine spilled down his chin. His throat convulsed, choking, coughing violently before a thin trail of blood dripped from the corner of his lips.
"Shizun!" Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng cried out in unison, their voices thick with panic. Xue Tuzi quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe away the blood while Li Zhameng steadied their Shizun, holding him upright.
"He won't take it," Xue Tuzi muttered, his brows furrowed deeply with worry. His hand trembled slightly as he dabbed at the corners of Xue Laohu's mouth. His agonized groans filled the room, each sound like a dagger stabbing into their hearts.
Li Zhameng clenched his fists, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He couldn't bear to see his Shizun suffer any longer. Without hesitation, he snatched the bowl from Xue Tuzi's hands.
"Li Zhameng, what are you—" Xue Tuzi began, but his words caught in his throat as he watched Li Zhameng tip the bowl back, gulping down the bitter medicine.
Before Xue Tuzi could react further, Li Zhameng leaned forward, pressing his warm lips against Xue Laohu's cold, cracked ones. The action was swift yet deliberate, the warmth of the liquid transferring from Li Zhameng's mouth into Xue Laohu's. Xue Laohu's throat worked instinctively, swallowing the medicine.
Xue Tuzi froze, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock, anger, and something deeper—something more painful. His hand tightened around the edge of the bedside table, the wood creaking under his grip as he watched the intimate scene unfold.
Finally, Li Zhameng pulled back, his cheeks flushed, and a faint sheen of the bitter medicine glistened on his lips. He wiped his mouth, looking down at Xue Laohu, who now seemed calmer, his breathing less labored. The lines of pain on his face eased slightly, though his body still trembled faintly.
"You… you tramp!" Xue Tuzi's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. His hand shot out, grabbing Li Zhameng by the shoulder and yanking him back. His other hand raised, poised to strike.
Li Zhameng flinched, his cheek turning to the side, bracing himself for the slap. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but he didn't fight back, accepting whatever punishment Xue Tuzi saw fit.
But the slap never came.
Xue Tuzi's hand hovered in the air, trembling with barely restrained fury. His eyes, brimming with unshed tears, darted between Li Zhameng and Xue Laohu, who now lay peacefully, no longer struggling. Xue Tuzi let out a sharp breath and lowered his hand, his voice shaking as he spoke.
"Don't you dare take advantage of Shizun like that again," he hissed, his anger barely contained. He snatched the bowl from Li Zhameng's hands and stepped away, his shoulders stiff with tension.
Li Zhameng said nothing, his face a mixture of guilt and defiance as he glanced back at Xue Laohu. He reached out hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair from his Shizun's damp forehead, his touch gentle.
Xue Tuzi turned his back on the scene, his hands gripping the bowl tightly. His heart ached, an unfamiliar bitterness clawing its way through his chest.
"A-Tuzi, please don't be mad…" Li Zhameng pleaded, his voice trembling yet soft. His tongue flicked nervously across his lower lip, the faint bitterness of the medicine lingering there as he unconsciously savored the moment. "I did it for Shizun's sake. I swear, I wasn't trying to take advantage." His words stumbled over each other, and he clutched the hem of his robes tightly, his knuckles white. His expression was a mixture of guilt and a fleeting, guilty joy—a contradiction he couldn't hide.
Xue Tuzi's glare was icy, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied Li Zhameng. The latter's earnestness tugged at something in his chest, but he refused to let his anger waver. He turned away with a huff, busying himself with adjusting Xue Laohu's covers. "You should think before you act so rashly, Meng Meng. Shizun's condition is no game." His tone was curt, but his hands trembled faintly as they smoothed the blankets over their Shizun.
Xue Laohu stirred faintly, his face no longer etched with pain. His breaths came more evenly now, the tension in his body subsiding as the medicine began to take effect. Seeing this, Li Zhameng's expression softened, and a small, genuine smile crept onto his face. Despite Xue Tuzi's reprimand, his heart swelled with relief and pride. "At least Shizun is resting now…" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
The hours stretched into the quiet stillness of night, the flickering lamplight casting long shadows on the walls. Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng remained at Xue Laohu's bedside, their vigil unwavering. Li Zhameng eventually succumbed to exhaustion, his head nodding forward until it rested on the edge of the bed. His hand stayed clasped around Xue Laohu's, as if afraid to let go even in sleep.
Xue Tuzi, who had been pacing restlessly, paused when he saw his martial brother hunched over. His initial irritation softened as he noticed the faint furrow of worry still etched into Li Zhameng's brow, even in sleep. With a sigh, Xue Tuzi grabbed a blanket draped over a nearby chair and carefully placed it over Li Zhameng's shoulders.
"Always so reckless…" Xue Tuzi muttered under his breath, though there was no malice in his tone now. He stood for a moment, watching Li Zhameng's doze into sleep before turning away. His eyes flickered to the small qiankun pouch tied to his waist. "Xiao Jiao," he murmured quietly, untying the pouch and opening it gently. Inside, the little Gu worm stirred, its tiny form shimmering faintly under the dim light. "Are you hungry?" he asked softly.
The Gu worm wiggled in response, its whiskers bobbing eagerly. Xue Tuzi's lips curved into a faint smile. "Come on then," he said, cradling the pouch carefully in his hands as he made his way toward the kitchen.
Shudu lay sprawled across the bed, his crimson eye staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. His arms were crossed behind his head, his long fingers tapping restlessly against the wooden frame. Despite the stillness of the night, his mind was anything but calm. He shifted, rolling onto his side with a frustrated grunt, the silk sheets tangling around his legs. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice low and edged with irritation. "I can't sleep."
He turned again, his hand instinctively patting the empty space beside him. The sheets were cool to the touch, untouched for hours. That side of the bed—Xue Tuzi's side—was empty. Shudu's lips curled into a scowl, his jaw tightening. Of course, the beauty was still preoccupied, tending to that other man.
With a growl of annoyance, Shudu sat up abruptly, his hair falling messily over his shoulders. He combed his fingers through the silky strands, tugging at a few knots before pulling them all into a single long braid. He tied it off with practiced ease, his hands moving quickly despite his lingering irritation.
Sliding off the bed, his bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, he didn't bother putting on shoes, the quiet creak of the floorboards marking his slow but determined movements. As he reached the door, Xiao Zongzi's voice stopped him.
"Master, where are you going?" Her voice was soft but curious, echoing slightly in the stillness of the room. She hung from her spider web, its threads gleaming like silver under the pale starlight. The intricate strands stretched across the open window, their delicate beauty contrasting starkly with her many-legged silhouette.
Shudu glanced at her briefly, his eyes narrowing. "To look for him," he replied, his tone cold and biting, his brows furrowed deeply as he crossed his arms.
Xiao Zongzi tilted her head, her eyes catching the faint moonlight. She remained silent as she watched him go, his presence leaving a trail of simmering anger in the otherwise quiet air.