It was because Xi Yu had survived, and he himself had not died either.
At the beginning, all he had wanted was for Xi Yu to live. Nothing more.
But after Xi Yu was reborn, Lu Zhixing began to wonder whether, since he had fallen into demonic corruption for Xi Yu’s sake and was different from those demons of the past, Xi Yu might feel even the slightest trace of compassion for him.
He kept fantasizing that, given the years of affection they had shared as master and disciple, even if things truly came to the worst, Xi Yu would still grieve for a while after his death.
That had been the worst ending he had imagined: he would die at Xi Yu’s hands, and Xi Yu would be sad for a few days.
But now he could no longer bear it because Xi Yu’s arrow that day had failed to kill him. If he had died, none of what was happening now would have happened.
He would never have had to watch Xi Yu give everything that belonged to him to someone else, nor would he have had to listen to those heart-piercing words.
What a stranger his Shizun had become.
What a stranger Xi Yu was.
Lu Zhixing looked at Xi Yu, his eyes glistening with tears. He spoke slowly, one word at a time.
“Xi Yu, I don’t want you anymore. You’re not my Shizun.”
“I’m going to find my Shizun.”
Lu Zhixing pushed Xi Yu away and climbed out of bed. He walked toward the balcony.
“You’re not my Shizun. I’m going to find my Shizun…”
Stumbling, Lu Zhixing made his way out of the room.
Xi Yu felt as though someone had clamped a hand around his throat. He sank onto the bed and stared in the direction Lu Zhixing had left, feeling the bone bed beneath him suddenly grow soft.
Lu Zhixing took the bone bed with him, and the room abruptly returned to its original layout.
Xi Yu remained rigid for a long while before finally collapsing onto the bed in dejection. It was as though every last bit of strength had been drained from his body along with Lu Zhixing’s departure.
This is for the best, Xi Yu told himself.
What he wanted was for Zhuli to hate him. What he wanted was for Zhuli to suffer like this.
Xi Yu raised a hand to cover his eyes, as though trying to block out the halo of light refracted by the crystal chandelier.
The next day, Xi Yu did not get out of bed. He slept there all day and did not leave his room even by evening.
Shen Qing and Luo Yuan sensed that something was wrong and wanted to go upstairs to check on him, but Luo Cheng’an stopped them.
“He probably doesn’t feel like seeing anyone right now,” Luo Cheng’an said. “But don’t worry. He’s fine.”
How could Shen Qing not worry?
“He hasn’t eaten all day. Even someone made of iron couldn’t withstand that!”
Luo Yuan sighed and asked Luo Cheng’an, “Tell me honestly. What happened between your brother and Lu Zhixing? Those two have been acting strangely ever since they came back. Do you think that brat Lu Zhixing did something wrong and broke your brother’s heart?”
………………….
Luo Yuan had barely seen Xi Yu over the past few days. He had caught glimpses of him only when Jiang Yunzheng came over to freeload a meal every day. These past few days, Xi Yu could only be described as utterly dejected, as though he had lost his soul.
Lu Zhixing, meanwhile, had uncharacteristically stopped coming over altogether. If they still couldn’t tell something was wrong, that would truly be strange.
Before the two of them had left, Xi Yu had protected Lu Zhixing as though he were the apple of his eye. They had gone out once and returned like this.
Back then, Xi Yu had publicly announced their relationship, claiming he was doing it to protect Lu Zhixing. Luo Yuan had already suspected something was going on between them. It was obvious that Lu Zhixing liked Xi Yu, but whether Xi Yu liked Lu Zhixing in return had remained uncertain.
But what was there to be uncertain about now?
Given Xi Yu’s personality, if he didn’t like Lu Zhixing, he wouldn’t care what the boy did.
Yet judging by Xi Yu’s current state, he clearly wasn’t indifferent. Not even remotely!
Luo Yuan was no longer merely curious. He needed to know what had happened. But he was certain Xi Yu wasn’t at fault. Although his son had not been back for very long, he certainly wasn’t the sort to cause trouble, behave unreasonably, or flirt with everyone he met.
It had to be Lu Zhixing’s fault!
The more Luo Yuan thought about it, the more convinced he became. With a grave expression, he asked Luo Cheng’an, “Did he hook up with someone while they were away, and your brother caught him in the act?”
Luo Cheng’an had originally been trying to figure out how to answer. But as Luo Yuan’s speculation became increasingly outrageous, he couldn’t help letting out a snort of laughter.
“Hook up with someone else?”
Lu Zhixing? The idea of him flirting with someone else was laughable. He was the type to fly into a rage if anyone else so much as flirted with Xi Yu.
Luo Cheng’an really couldn’t explain the situation, so he decided not to bother. He ushered Luo Yuan and Shen Qing away.
“Just leave them alone. I guarantee he’s fine. Everything will be all right once this period passes.”
The Nine Stars would align with the Moon in just a few days. Zhuli was doomed to die.
Luo Cheng’an sneered inwardly. That pretentious Zhuli had actually thought he could convince everyone that he didn’t care.
The commotion the previous day had been so great that even the barrier Lanxing had set up was shattered. Naturally, Luo Cheng’an had heard everything that happened inside.
That bag of candied fruit was something he had once seen Lanxing carrying around. He wasn’t particularly fond of sweets, but seeing Lanxing with them had piqued his curiosity, so he had asked for some. After trying them once, he asked for more, only for Lanxing to awkwardly make an excuse and say there were none left.
Later, he learned that Zhuli had thrown a tantrum that day, insisting that Lanxing was not allowed to give anyone else the candied fruit he had made for him.
As for the bone bed, Lanxing had personally sought out the qilin bones and supervised its construction himself. Zhuli treasured it even more.
Both items had been given to Zhuli by Lanxing. Lanxing had given Zhuli so many things that Luo Cheng’an had been consumed with envy, wishing he could claim them all for himself.
Now, the things that had belonged to Zhuli had been given by Lanxing to Jiang Yunzheng.
Those two items alone were merely the tip of the iceberg. But Zhuli had monopolized Lanxing’s affection for far too long. Even these two things were enough to drive him mad.
To some extent, Luo Cheng’an could empathize with Zhuli.
He could understand why Zhuli was losing control. Having something that should have belonged to you snatched away by someone else in an instant—no amount of explanation could fully convey the jealousy that came with it.
After empathizing with Zhuli, Luo Cheng’an felt an immense sense of satisfaction.
But once that satisfaction faded, he was left feeling incredulous.
What he found so unbelievable was that Lanxing had actually given those things away.
Back when Zhuli had still been a little snake whose scales had barely hardened, Xi Yu had been so thoroughly charmed by him that he couldn’t even bear to give away a single piece of candied fruit.
And now he could hand them over to Jiang Yunzheng just like that.
Caught up in his own jealousy, Zhuli couldn’t see clearly. All he could do was feel insecure, furious, and miserable.
But Luo Cheng’an had noticed something amiss. Lanxing clearly loved Zhuli. He would never casually give away something that had originally belonged to him.
Even taking the most extreme possibility into account—even if Lanxing no longer loved Zhuli and regarded him with complete indifference, while harboring affection for Jiang Yunzheng—he still wouldn’t give Jiang Yunzheng these two particular items.
The candied fruit contained only a small amount of spiritual energy, making it suitable for nourishing a mortal’s body. The qilin bone bed, meanwhile, nurtured the soul.
Both items could be used by mortals.
There were countless objects inside Lanxing Hall, but almost all of them had been prepared for Zhuli. They contained enormous amounts of spiritual energy and were unsuitable for ordinary mortals.
Lanxing was nourishing Jiang Yunzheng’s body.
But Jiang Yunzheng’s body had shown no apparent abnormalities.
If Lanxing intended to grant Jiang Yunzheng immortality and take him on as a disciple, these were not the items he should have chosen.
Luo Cheng’an could make neither head nor tail of it. He turned around, intending to find Jiang Yunzheng. He had a feeling that the unease he had been experiencing lately could somehow be explained by Jiang Yunzheng.
He had barely taken a step when the door, which had remained firmly shut, suddenly opened.
Xi Yu was reclining on the bed, his hair disheveled and several creases pressed into his silk pajamas. He lifted his eyelids halfway and looked at Luo Cheng’an with casual indifference.
“You’ve been standing out here for so long. Aren’t you coming in?”
Luo Cheng’an’s eyes lit up. Ever since his true identity had been exposed, this was the first time Xi Yu had initiated a conversation with him.
He immediately forgot all about Jiang Yunzheng and entered the room, looking at Xi Yu somewhat nervously.
“I… I was afraid you didn’t want to see me.”
Xi Yu slowly climbed out of bed and indicated with his chin that Luo Cheng’an should sit. Still wearing his pajamas, he settled down opposite him with a boneless sort of languor.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the night was pitch-black. The windows stood wide open, but a barrier had been erected around the room, preventing anyone outside from seeing what was happening within.
Xi Yu waved his hand, and several small, jade-green liquor bottles appeared on the coffee table.
“Want a drink? I remember you really like this.”
Xi Yu’s voice was a little hoarse. Fine red veins threaded his eyes, and he looked utterly worn out. His face began to change, transforming into Lanxing’s features.
Luo Cheng’an waved his hand and changed his own appearance as well.
Xi Yu looked at his face and suddenly smiled.
Luo Cheng’an would have given anything for Xi Yu to smile at him. He stared blankly at the face of Lanxing now before him.
Although he wasn’t wearing long hair or white robes, this was truly Lanxing.
Lanxing was smiling at him. He still remembered that Luo Cheng’an liked green plum wine, and he had even personally placed a bottle in his hand.
He should have been happy.
Yet the unease in his heart only grew stronger.
“Lanxing…” Luo Cheng’an murmured.
Xi Yu said nothing. He simply tilted his head back and took a drink. He drank so quickly that some of the clear liquid spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Luo Cheng’an watched him for a while before finally tilting his head back and drinking too.
The two of them drank as though competing with each other, one bottle after another, until empty bottles were scattered all over the floor.
When a faint flush appeared on Xi Yu’s face, he suddenly pressed down on Luo Cheng’an’s hand and looked at him through heavy-lidded, drunken eyes.
“Ever since I was reborn, I’ve kept thinking about those days in the Ninth Heaven. I miss Zhuli… and I miss you, too. I thought that once I returned to the Ninth Heaven, I’d find you and drink myself into a stupor to celebrate my return from the dead. I haven’t made it back to the Ninth Heaven yet, but I still wanted to have this drink with you.”
Luo Cheng’an felt as though Xi Yu’s words had struck him senseless.
“You… miss me?”
Xi Yu set down his bottle and looked at Luo Cheng’an with clear, luminous eyes.
“Of course I miss you, Huai Xi. You’re the only friend I’ve had in all these hundreds of thousands of years.”
The only friend…
Lanxing had never been an expressive person. He had always considered lying beneath him.
If he said this, then he truly regarded Luo Cheng’an as his only friend.
The only one…
What heart-stirring words those were.
……………………
Xi Yu looked at Luo Cheng’an and said softly, “Huai Xi, if you had been the one who needed to sacrifice yourself to the arrow back then, I wouldn’t have agreed to it either.”
“You don’t need to be jealous of Zhuli, because you’re just as important to me.”
The corners of Luo Cheng’an’s mouth twitched twice. It was impossible to tell whether he wanted to smile or make some other expression. Tears welled in his eyes, and so many complicated emotions flickered across his face that his handsome features twisted slightly.