[So that’s how he feels about Bai Zhun]

The light faded from Bai Li’s eyes, and the sacrifice spell was broken. The thick clouds dissipated, and a bright moon shone in the clear sky.

Bai Zhun stared at Bai Li’s corpse tightly embracing the skeleton, his hand gripping the bamboo strip. As the cold wind swept across the wilderness, he came to his senses and said, “Burn it.” His voice was raspy, as if mixed with sand. Huo Zhenye steadied the handle of his wheelchair. His arm and chest were injured, but he could still just about manage. Bai Zhun didn’t let him help, personally igniting the soul-summoning banner. He also took a packet of cinnabar from his sleeve, and as the paper and bamboo caught fire, the flames suddenly surged, shooting straight towards the sky.

The paper figures and effigies in the abandoned mansion emerged from the house, one by one, forming a peculiar funeral procession in the dark night. They walked to the bonfire, jumping in one after another to be buried with their master. Bai Zhun watched from a short distance. When the paper and bamboo had completely burned, and even the embers had died out, he stepped forward, bent down, and scooped up a handful of ash, placing it into a porcelain bottle.

Huo Zhenye followed behind him. He still wanted to force himself to drive, but Bai Zhun spoke: “Lie down in the back.”

“You can drive?” Huo Zhenye was a little surprised. When Bai Zhun glanced at him, he realized he’d said something foolish; with Bai Zhun’s leg condition, how could he possibly drive?

Bai Zhun sat in the driver’s seat, took out some paper from his sleeve, and cut out four strongman-shaped paper figures. The paper figures landed and stuck to the four tires, pushing the wheels swiftly towards the city. Huo Zhenye was already at his limit from exhaustion. His chest wound bled with every movement. He clutched Bai Zhun’s handkerchief to his chest and fell asleep leaning against the car seat.

When he woke, he was already lying in bed. Bai Zhun sat beside him, unbuttoning his shirt at the chest. Huo Zhenye’s eyes snapped open wide, his hand half-raised. He wanted to cover himself but felt it would be overly dramatic; yet, not covering himself made him a little embarrassed. He stared at Bai Zhun: “You… what are you doing?”

Bai Zhun frowned: “Blocking what? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” Indeed, he had seen it at the brothel. Bai Zhun finished speaking and pushed Huo Zhenye’s hand away: “Be still.” He held a long bamboo needle, carefully picking out the small bamboo splinters from Huo Zhenye’s wound.

Huo Zhenye had used sheer force against the Golden Boy and Jade Girl paper figures. They bit hard, so he had recklessly endured the pain. At the time, he was only focused on finding Bai Zhun, but now, picking out the bamboo splinters, his flesh truly ached. In the brothel, when his back was to Bai Zhun, and he wasn’t looking, he hadn’t felt anything. Now, with the wound on his chest, and Bai Zhun so close, his hand resting on him, gently picking out the splinters lodged in his flesh, every touch made Huo Zhenye’s chest muscles twitch.

Bai Zhun’s long eyelashes were lowered, his lips pale, his gaze intently fixed on Huo Zhenye’s wound.

Huo Zhenye licked the corner of his lips, his gaze fixed on the ceiling beam, but he couldn’t resist stealing glances at Bai Zhun. His eyes darted, and Bai Zhun caught him red-handed.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Bai Zhun dipped a white cloth in a basin, wrung it dry, and used it to wipe Huo Zhenye’s wounds. Then he sprinkled medicine powder on them and wrapped his chest with gauze. With every movement, Huo Zhenye took a soft, sharp breath. Each time he gasped, Bai Zhun’s movements became involuntarily lighter, his fingertips brushing Huo Zhenye’s chest as lightly as a dragonfly skimming water.

He took a deep, sharp breath and held it, not daring to breathe. Once Bai Zhun had finished tidying everything, he swiftly burrowed under the covers, only his face exposed, his temples and earlobes flushed red.

Bai Zhun raised a hand and pressed it to his forehead. “Are you running a fever?”

Pressed by his palm, Huo Zhenye instantly felt as if a spell had been cast, immobilizing him everywhere except for one spot. He exhaled gently, bending his knees. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Then sleep,” Bai Zhun said, turning to leave. His bamboo wheelchair hadn’t rolled far before it stopped again. He turned back and said, “I owe you one.”

Huo Zhenye didn’t hear him. He was just lifting a corner of the quilt to peek outside. 

Bai Zhun turned back, startling Huo Zhenye so much he immediately pulled the quilt back down. “Wh-what is it?”

“Did you hurt your leg too? Let me see.”

Huo Zhenye quickly turned around, wrapping himself in the quilt and facing the wall. “No, it’s fine. No injury.” Not only was he not injured, but he was also very healthy and strong.

The sound of the wheelchair rolling away faded, but Huo Zhenye remained curled in the same position under the covers. Pangs of pain shot through his arm and chest, yet he completely ignored the pain from his wounds.

So, this is how he feels about Bai Zhun.

Huo Zhenye had always been used to flirting. Others saw him as a playboy, accustomed to the romantic scene. While his classmates sought out foreign prostitutes and local girls, he had never indulged. Because of this, his classmates spread rumors that he preferred “decent” girls, innocent maidens, and no one would believe that he had truly never touched a woman.

Even Huo Zhenye himself had always thought he liked women. He had once had a hazy fondness, when he was thirteen or fourteen, for the head maid who took care of his daily needs. She was a few years older than him, and Mrs. Huo had even asked him if he wanted to keep her to be a concubine later. Fourteen-year-old Huo Zhenye shook his head, refusing. He knew what kind of life the concubines kept by the Huo family led—lucky ones might bear children and become unofficial wives, unlucky ones would be old maids their whole lives. When that maid got married, he even gave her a sum of money. From then on, he had never liked anyone else.

No matter how refined Bai Zhun looked, he was still a man. He might be delicate and frail, but even in a wheelchair, his spirit never weakened! Does he like men, or does he just like Bai Zhun?

—-

Bai Zhun placed the porcelain bottle beside his master’s memorial tablet. With a bamboo knife, he meticulously carved the words “Memorial Tablet for Bai Li and his wife” onto the wooden plaque. Just as he finished carving and was about to light an incense stick for his senior brother and his wife, he heard a *thump-thump-thump* sound from outside. He turned to look and saw Huo Zhenye lying on the wooden bed, repeatedly banging his head against the wall. The *thump-thump-thump* sound was coming from him.

All the paper figures in the room turned to look at Huo Zhenye. The little yellow bird perched on the ceiling beam, watching him, its round eyes wide, wondering what madness had seized Huo Zhenye.

“Does it hurt that much?”

Huo Zhenye was still banging when a hand rested on his shoulder. He instantly went limp, collapsing back into the quilt, looking at Bai Zhun with a mixture of weakness and innocence: “Just a little bit of pain.”

Bai Zhun frowned. Though the wounds were numerous, they were small and shouldn’t hurt this much. Had the bamboo been soaked in something? “Let me check again.”

Bai Zhun reached out to unbutton Huo Zhenye’s shirt, but Huo Zhenye clasped his hand, then quickly let go: “No, no need.”

“Then shall we go to the Western hospital?”

Huo Zhenye jumped up: “Yes, yes, I’ll go to the Western hospital.” He felt that if he stayed any longer, Bai Zhun would see through his true feelings. Usually, he could flirt and joke all he wanted, but with this genuine feeling, he couldn’t even crack a single joke. He put on his jacket with utmost seriousness: “Then I’m off to the hospital.” He didn’t even remember to ask what they should eat for dinner, and hastily shut the door and left.

Bai Zhun frowned at the door, feeling that something was off with him. He turned to little yellow bird and said, “Follow him.”

The little yellow bird flapped its wings, flew out of the courtyard, caught up with Huo Zhenye, and landed on his shoulder, pecking him with its beak.

Huo Zhenye was distracted. He drove around in a circle, went to Shengxin Hospital, and found Xu Yanwen.

Xu Yanwen looked at the wounds and asked, “What bit you? An animal?” No human had such sharp teeth, but if it were an animal, the bite marks didn’t match.

“Just deal with it; give me some anti-inflammatories,” Huo Zhenye said gruffly, sitting on the chair. He started to let his mind wander as he stared at Xu Yanwen, who also had that refined, delicate appearance. When Xu Yanwen was at university in England, he had been targeted before. Xu Yanwen was a scholar, and though he resisted, the other party was numerous and strong, constantly harassing him. Huo Zhenye even witnessed it once. He was lying on the grass behind a tree and heard the commotion. He sat up and saw three or four people blocking Xu Yanwen’s path, speaking flirtatiously, trying to get him to be some kind of “companion.”

Though Seventh Young Master Huo didn’t dabble in such things, he understood immediately. He lazily emerged from behind the tree and told the three men, “This is my companion.” The three men looked at Huo Zhenye. Although he was Chinese, he was tall and robust, with strong muscles, emanating a powerful presence. The three exchanged glances, then surrounded him, intending to beat him up. Three against one, yet Huo Zhenye managed to overpower them. From then on, they never dared to bother Xu Yanwen again. But Xu Yanwen, besides being grateful, still kept his distance from him.

Huo Zhenye had never given it much thought. Now, he suddenly remembered and asked him, “Did you keep your distance from me back then because you thought I liked you and felt ashamed?”

The little yellow bird immediately perked up its head.

Xu Yanwen had long known Huo Zhenye spoke directly. Wearing his white lab coat, he didn’t look as frail as he did during his student days. He was writing a prescription for Huo Zhenye when he suddenly heard the question. He put down his pen, turned, and said, “Brother Huo, I’m very grateful for your help, but I prefer to rely on myself, rather than being respected as someone’s accessory. That’s not respecting me; it’s respecting you.” Xu Yanwen was clearly deflecting. There were indeed rumors back then that Huo Zhenye was bisexual, and his reputation among foreign students wasn’t good either.

Huo Zhenye was filled with melancholy. What if Bai Zhun finds being liked by a man disgusting and shameful?

“Are you free? Shall we have lunch together?”

Xu Yanwen was a bit surprised but nodded. “Okay, after my lunch break.” He probably guessed that Huo Zhenye had something bothering him, and besides his old classmate, there was no one he could confide in.

The little yellow bird had been standing on its foots since before, small in stature but quite assertive. Hearing Huo Zhenye make dinner plans with Xu Yanwen, it paced a few steps, flapped its wings, and flew out the window, heading home.

—-

Bai Zhun closed and opened his eyes, his gaze returning to the room. He snorted, “So, he went on a date. And here I was, worried about his wounds.” At his snort, Ah Xiu poked her head into the room. Bai Zhun glanced at her, “Today, we’re having plain congee.” Ah Xiu blinked. Ever since Huo Zhenye moved into the small building, he had been responsible for all their food and drink. Ah Xiu hadn’t bought food for Bai Zhun in a long time; she spent her remaining time playing with Little Yan. Hearing Bai Zhun’s instruction, she picked up her oiled paper umbrella and went out to buy the congee.

Bai Zhun picked up his bamboo knife, splitting bamboo into fine strips. He then covered these strips with red paper, fashioning a wedding hall and wedding canopy. His senior brother hadn’t married that girl; he didn’t even know her name. But at least he could fulfill his senior brother’s wish. He would also perform a ritual for those unknown, voluntarily sacrificed souls, as the laws of the underworld are impartial, and sins must be paid even after death. There was so much to do, yet his knife slipped, and he felt irritable. Why should he, the master, be making paper effigies while his little apprentice goes out to dinner?

—-

Huo Zhenye sat in the coffee shop, everything reminding him of Bai Zhun. This cream cake was coffee-flavored, bitter yet sweet, perhaps Bai Zhun would like it. As Xu Yanwen entered the coffee shop, he saw Huo Zhenye’s grimacing face. He smiled gently and sat across from Huo Zhenye. “Brother Huo, are you troubled by love?”

“How do you know?”

Xu Yanwen smiled. “I don’t know, but Brother Huo has always lived life like a game. To be so troubled, you must be serious.”

Huo Zhenye was momentarily stunned into silence. If he could be with Bai Zhun, of course, he would be serious. The key was, what did Bai Zhun think? Did he see him as a clingy nuisance? A friend? An apprentice?

“Have you ever pursued anyone?” Huo Zhenye decided it was time to ask the foolish question.

“No,” Xu Yanwen replied, also completely theoretical. But he thought for a moment and added, “Send flowers? Chocolates? Follow her wishes, do things she likes?”

Flowers, he had sent; chocolates, Bai Zhun particularly liked; following his wishes, there was almost never a time when he didn’t; doing what he liked, he was learning to make paper figures.

Sunlight streamed through the coffee shop’s glass windows, casting black and white shadows on the table. Huo Zhenye suddenly smiled, raised his bitter coffee, and drained it.

It turned out that, unconsciously, he had already been pursuing Bai Zhun all along.