Chapter 106: The Cave (Part 6)

Xu Qianyu shook her head.
The fragrance on her senior brother was originally very faint. But as her nose buried into his clothes, the scent suddenly became overwhelming, making it a bit hard for her to breathe.
She turned her head slightly to take a breath. Shen Suwei released his grip a little, and Xu Qianyu immediately rolled to the side. However, the bed was narrow, so they were still lying very close. She kicked the blanket aside to let the heat on her body dissipate.

Shen Suwei lay quietly with his eyes open, thinking to himself that it seemed she still preferred her female form.

All the closeness she initiated was also based on that form.
Xu Qianyu faced the wall, feeling the cool breeze carrying a hint of rain curling into the tent, brushing against the hair on the back of her neck and bringing a faint tickling sensation.
She was puzzled: the peaceful, secure atmosphere she’d felt while sleeping in Shen Suwei’s embrace earlier now seemed broken. She wasn’t sure if it was her issue or her senior brother’s.
Right now, she felt like a tightly strung bow—not restless but tense, even a little too scared to turn around.

After calming herself for a while, she quietly rolled over.
Shen Suwei’s eyes were closed, unmoving, as though he were asleep. His sleeping posture was as calm and proper as she had imagined, only taking up one side of the bed and concealing any sense of his presence.
Outside, the rain continued to pour.

Seeing that he was asleep, Xu Qianyu relaxed a bit. She lay there for a while, then moved her head closer, testing out resting on his shoulder. A cool sensation seeped into her neck, and she scooted closer, leaning against his sleeve; Shen Suwei still didn’t react.

It was quite comfortable.
Gaining a bit more courage, Xu Qianyu draped her arm over his waist, then hesitated, thinking it might be inappropriate and pulling it back. But then she thought, Why am I being so restrained? What about “possessing” him? She placed her arm over him again, this time tightening her grip slightly, as though trying to hold him like a hunter with its prey.

Back and forth she went, shifting and trying different positions until she was exhausted and eventually fell asleep nestled against Shen Suwei, forgetting to mind her sleeping posture or whether she might look foolish.
The thunderstorm persisted for several days, a layer of grayness cloaking the sky.

The next day, Xu Qianyu lay alone on the bed, feeling an emptiness, as if something was missing.
Whenever Shen Suwei noticed her gaze upon opening the curtains, he would silently stand up and come in to accompany her in sleep.

However, once he lay down, he would remain perfectly still and unresponsive. Xu Qianyu would stroke the ends of his hair and snuggle close to him, but he showed no reaction, seemingly tolerating it all.

She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or slightly annoyed.
On the third day, Xu Qianyu began some destructive behavior. She noticed that her senior brother’s robes had two layers, so she grabbed the collar of the outer garment and tugged forcefully, then pulled at the inner layer with one hand while her other hand moved down to unfasten the clasp on his jade belt.

Suddenly, her hand was seized tightly, pressed against the clasp with a force strong enough to nearly crush her bones.
Shen Suwei sat up.

“Are you angry?” Xu Qianyu hurriedly sat up as well, pulling her hand back with effort, ignoring the pain, and mumbled, “I was just curious.”
Shen Suwei stared at her intently, his eyes reflecting the brightness of a sudden flash of lightning, as if trying to see through her thoughts.
After a moment, he asked, “What are you curious about?”
Xu Qianyu was at a loss for words.

Suddenly, Shen Suwei turned his face away, pushing her into a cramped corner of the bed. The bamboo post behind her couldn’t bear the weight and snapped with a crisp sound, causing the curtain and the stone weights on top to fall with a heavy thud just as Xu Qianyu let out a startled cry.

Shen Suwei gently held her chin, pressing his lips against hers. After a moment, he forcefully parted her lips. Xu Qianyu, passively enduring it, felt her ear’s pulse beating rapidly. Facing the cool breeze, her vision darkened for a moment when she could finally breathe again.

Shen Suwei looked at her and asked, “Still curious?”
Xu Qianyu steadied herself, looking at him with a hint of defiance, saying nothing.
Shen Suwei’s breath approached again, like a storm resuming its assault.

A cool hand rested on the side of her neck, feeling her rapidly beating pulse.
When she didn’t speak, Shen Suwei grew worried that she was stunned by shock, frozen.
Xu Qianyu felt her senior’s kiss gradually soften. He pulled away, seemingly reminded of something, and asked, “Do you like me?”
It was the second time he asked. Xu Qianyu replied, “Yes.”

Shen Suwei looked at her again and said, “If you shake your head, I’ll stop.”
Yet Xu Qianyu continued to stare straight at him, her pupils slightly larger than average, giving her an otherworldly, ghostly glow in the dark, a small light in her eyes.
Her petal-shaped lips, softened and deep red, slowly pressed together.
Shen Suwei felt a taut string within him snap with a silent hum.

Xu Qianyu’s stalled thoughts finally moved, and she thought of a counter: “I’m curious about why you have so many scars on your waist.”

The words fell, and Shen Suwei suddenly went silent. It was unclear if he was surprised or if he bristled at the invasion.

“I didn’t mean to look.” Sensing the shift in mood, Xu Qianyu explained, “I just happened to see…”
Everything remained cold and tense around them. After a while, Xu Qianyu spoke again, “I was just curious. A foundation cultivator’s body should heal quickly. Since I was little… Anyway, I don’t have a single scar.”

She felt as if she had misspoken again, and before she could finish, Shen Suwei grasped her hands, pinning her to the wall.
His gaze traced down her raised chin and neck, quickly averting as he spoke in a gentle tone, though it held a suppressed edge. “Don’t speak of such things again.”
Such words, without intention, could spark unintended fires.

Xu Qianyu, gathering her courage, asked, “Which part? About you, or about me?”
Their breaths mingled. Shen Suwei released her, his fingers trailing across her face before resting on her earlobe.

He noticed her single earring, shimmering like a teardrop. After a moment, he adjusted his tone and asked an unrelated question, “Why only one ear pierced?”
This was the first time since Xu Qianyu entered Penglai that someone had noticed such a detail about her.

Surprised, Xu Qianyu explained, “When I was young, Guan Niang asked if I wanted pierced ears. I admired the girls who wore earrings, so I agreed. But I didn’t know it would hurt. She heated a silver needle in a candle flame, and after piercing my right ear, I cried uncontrollably and refused to pierce the left. Since then, most of my earrings are clip-ons, or occasionally, I have one hook and one clip.”

As she spoke, her earring glinted and swayed.
“Guan Niang mentioned piercing my left ear again, but I always refused. She regretted it, saying she should have held me down with four or five maids, two with needles to pierce both ears at once. That way, I’d have a pair of ear holes, and I could wear any earrings sold outside.”

Shen Suwei stared at her intently. He realized he enjoyed listening to Xu Qianyu, even if she spoke of trivial things—it was like a lively breeze from the mortal world, captivating.
After finishing her story, Xu Qianyu’s gaze shifted. She lifted her hand suddenly, brushing aside his hair.

Shen Suwei turned his head to avoid her touch, but as a Foundation cultivator, Xu Qianyu’s eyesight was keen. Observing with intent, she was surprised.

“Senior Brother, you also… had them pierced.”
With an unchanged expression, Shen Suwei replied, “I spent a few years as a girl when I was young.”
“Were you dressed as Guanyin?”

In the southern regions, it was customary during festivals to dress beautiful boys around seven or eight as girls, including pierced ears. These boys were highly sought after for marriage, as the ear-piercing scars symbolized a pure lineage and good looks.
“Because you’re beautiful,” Xu Qianyu said.
“…” Shen Suwei turned to look at her.

Just then, lightning illuminated his face: dark eyes slightly lifted, lips blood-red, features sharp and icy. The term “beautiful” was jarring, almost unbearable, making his ears ring. Yet the admiration in Xu Qianyu’s gaze was pure, her words sincere, stripping away any malice and filling him with warmth.

“Not Guanyin.” Shen Suwei found himself explaining calmly, “Just an ordinary girl.”
“And then?” Xu Qianyu’s curiosity grew, and she lifted his hair again, closely observing.
This time, Shen Suwei did not avoid her gaze.

The scar from the earring seemed incongruous with his icy, sword-like aura. There was something inexplicably entrancing in this flaw.
Xu Qianyu stared for a while, then impulsively removed her earring, attempting to place it in his ear. She smiled, “To make you even prettier.”
Shen Suwei grabbed her hand.

They wrestled briefly, Xu Qianyu stubbornly insisting on putting it on him, her arm trembling slightly from exertion, playfully determined.
Shen Suwei looked at her with a piercing gaze.

Xu Qianyu didn’t fully understand the true implications of humiliation and transgression; she held a naive malice, making it both endearing and maddening.
In response, Shen Suwei pinned her wrist to the wall and bit her neck.

Xu Qianyu froze, stunned for a moment as her senior brother kissed down from her jaw to her neck. This kiss was different from before—there was a sense of provocation and malice. In moments, it became an uncontrolled blaze, consuming her entirely. As it burned further, Xu Qianyu felt a sharp sting.

Her skin was indeed delicate; with just a bit of force, Shen Suwei broke the skin on her neck with his bite. Startled, she cried out, and he immediately stopped.
Xu Qianyu leaned against the wall, her back drenched in cold sweat, feeling a chill seep into her body. She touched her neck in disbelief, feeling both pain and cold. As she suppressed the overwhelming sensation inside her, everything that had surged within slowly settled down.

Outside, the rain poured heavily, swept along by the cold wind. She glimpsed Shen Suwei’s cold, focused profile and cautiously asked, “You asked me what happened next? I killed thirty-six people, and after that, I didn’t have to pretend to be a girl.”

Xu Qianyu paused. “You killed demons. If you kill people, you can’t follow the path of the Dao.”
Shen Suwei didn’t respond further, lifting the blanket and lying down in unusual silence.
Xu Qianyu, now empty-handed, realized her earring had been taken. Only then did she understand that something she’d said or done had probably angered her senior.

Still, she touched her neck again, feeling aggrieved that it was bitten hard enough to bleed.
Listening to her restless movements nearby, Shen Suwei, as if reading her thoughts, said, “If you’re unhappy, you can bite me back.”

Before he finished speaking, Xu Qianyu lunged at him, pulling open his collar and biting hard at the base of his neck near his collarbone. She tasted iron in the scent of pine and bamboo before stopping.

Shen Suwei remained silent. She felt she might have gone too far, so she gently kissed the wound, as if soothing a damaged toy from childhood.
Suddenly, Shen Suwei pushed her away and pulled his collar back up.
After a while, his hand reached out and touched the wound on her neck.
Xu Qianyu first felt pain, then an itch. When she touched it again, the wound had already disappeared, leaving her skin smooth as before.
“By morning, forget everything,” Shen Suwei said quietly. “Junior Sister.”

He rarely addressed her as “Junior Sister” so deliberately, and the words struck deeply, leaving Xu Qianyu with a sense of suffocation.
She sat for a long while, hugging her knees and touching her unscarred neck. Somehow, she felt as if something was missing, realizing she almost preferred the pain from earlier.
Suddenly, she reached to touch Shen Suwei’s collar, feeling a damp spot from the blood, and quickly withdrew her hand.

Her bite mark was still there.
With the gloom in her heart dispelled, Xu Qianyu finally clung to his sleeve and fell asleep peacefully.

*
In the middle of the night, the rain intensified, and all of Penglai seemed enveloped in misty dampness. When a clap of thunder sounded, Xu Qianyu turned and buried her face in Shen Suwei’s chest. He tossed the earring onto the table and reached out to hold her.
Half-awake, he saw the silhouette of a woman in the white glow, her hair pinned high with four coral-red hairpins, exposing a neck as pale and fragile as porcelain.

His mother had not appeared in his dreams for years. Now, his blood froze.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured after a long while, but he still clung tightly to Xu Qianyu, as if letting go would send him plummeting into a bottomless abyss. “I…”

He could feel it—he wasn’t on the path he was supposed to be, but instead sinking deeper into another.
Tonight’s nightmare seemed to question the doubts in his heart.
As a child, he’d asked his mother countless times when their suffering would end.
“When you ascend to immortality,” she’d said, “it’ll be over.”
He looked up at her. “Can’t we hate?”
“No.”

She stroked his hair. “When you become an immortal, you’ll go to a wonderful place, and then you’ll see that all the worries and fears you’re feeling now will fade away—everyone in them, too.”

“What kind of place is wonderful?”
Whatever fairy realms were like in the tales, that was it.
He turned away; having never seen it, he could only imagine.
The path to immortality was liberation from everything.

Whenever he felt overwhelmed by pain, he knew an answer awaited him somewhere ahead, and reaching it would bring relief.
At times, pushed to his limit, he would grind stone fragments into sharp edges, planning to strike from the shadows to cut the throats of his captors—a move he had rehearsed countless times. Eventually, he realized his strength was even greater than he’d thought.

One day, he woke his mother and said, “Let’s fight our way out. I don’t want to stay here. If we fail, we die together.”
A slap landed crisply on his face, shattering that other possibility.
His mother had said, “If you want to kill someone, start with me.”
How could he ever kill her?

That day, too, it rained heavily. The water seeped into the dark, cramped hole they lived in, drenching his head, running down his cheeks, and extinguishing the blue flames and the aura of malice surrounding him.

…
“My child, you don’t need to say sorry to me.” Princess Mingxia spoke in her soft, gentle voice. “I never asked you to do anything. You were so young then. I only thought of a way for you to survive.”
“But you…”
Her tone changed abruptly as she turned back, her once-beautiful face shrouded in black mist, as if ink had seeped into the whites of her eyes.
Shen Suwei’s pupils contracted.

Xu Qianyu suddenly held him tight, clutching his arm until the white mist dissipated and the vision disappeared.
Shen Suwei calmly helped Xu Qianyu tuck in her blanket.
He had grown up; he no longer let nightmares shake him.