The tall city gates of the outer city of the capital appeared in the distance at the edge of the field of vision. The walls were painted white, and the vermilion city gates towered high. Although the location was rather remote, it was a crucial traffic point for entering and leaving the capital, so it was not sparsely populated. The gates were crowded, with a constant flow of people coming and going in an endless stream.
Xin Hexue had walked these streets before. At the time, he was walking and chatting with the scholar named Ren Ke, and eventually arrived at the house where Ren Ke was staying.
He had also entrusted Ren Ke to help keep an eye out for any xianggong with the surname Zhou staying here.
Because the information he gave was very limited, only a surname, Ren Ke probably hadn’t realized right away that the person Xin Hexue was looking for was Zhou Shanheng, who was also staying in the very same lodging house.
When Zhou Shanheng entered the lodging, Ren Ke was just coming down from the second floor via the wooden stairs. Xin Hexue was worried about being seen when they were passing by, so he cautiously burrowed into Zhou Shanheng’s cotton robe collar. But he accidentally stepped on the cloth, slipped a bit, and only then managed to steady himself by stepping on Zhou Shanheng’s back and gripping the corner of the collar, thus ending up wedged in between the outer robe and the inner garment.
Without the thick outer robe in the way, Zhou Shanheng finally sensed the small movements on the back of his inner garment.
He then realized Xin Hexue was there. And as Ren Ke passed by, Zhou Shanheng stood even straighter.
However, Ren Ke mistook it for Zhou Shanheng being energized from a successful visit, and with a vigorous spirit, said with congratulations, “Zhou gongzi, did you submit your papers to the official you went to visit today?”
Zhou Shanheng shook his head. “I didn’t. Lord Wang was busy with official matters. I’m afraid he doesn’t have time to review them.”
His mind was on the Xin Hexue clinging to his back, so after a brief greeting with Ren Ke, he hurriedly went upstairs.
Ren Ke had been thinking about the person Xin Hexue had asked him to look for, but Zhou Shanheng left so quickly that he didn’t even have time to speak.
As soon as Zhou Shanheng returned to his room, he carefully closed all the doors and windows to prevent anyone from seeing this unusual scene.
Only then did Xin Hexue leap down from his back.
On seeing Xin Huexue’s tiny form jump from such a height, Zhou Shanheng was startled and subconsciously reached out to catch him. “Be careful!”
As a result, Xin Hexue landed lightly on the square table and looked at him leisurely. “Ziyue-ge, were you worried to the point of confusion? Or did you foolishly forget I’m a demon?”
Zhou Shanheng lowered his head in shame. “I didn’t even think of that.”
“It’s okay.” Xin Hexue’s eyes curved. “I know you’re concerned for me.”
Zhou Shanheng’s tense shoulders finally relaxed, but his expression still carried concern. “Hexue, where did you go before? Did the monks from Taichu Temple do anything to harm you?”
Xin Hexue lowered his eyes, and the long and dense eyelashes trembled slightly. “Ziyue-ge, I didn’t deliberately avoid you. It’s just that the capital is under the feet of the emperor. I had to avoid the monks from Taichu Temple and the heavenly masters. But there’s another more important matter…”
Xin Hexue told Zhou Shanheng about how his clan customarily underwent a memory cleanse every seven days.
Zhou Shanheng sat on the chair by the table. “So that’s how it is…”
It must have taken Xin Hexue a lot of effort to find him again.
At Xin Hexue’s request, Zhou Shanheng recounted in detail all that had happened between them previously. He was originally going to gloss over the life-and-death moments in the mountain stronghold, but Xin Hexue insisted he go into detail.
Xin Hexue frowned slightly. “Then, does your injured eye still hurt?”
Zhou Shanheng was stunned for a moment and replied, “You treated me back then, and now it has fully healed.”
Xin Hexue beckoned to him. “Come closer and let me take a look.”
Zhou Shanheng leaned down. The small koi demon pulled him forward by the collar, and the reflection in his eyes was filled completely by Xin Hexue.
Xin Hexue cupped his cheeks, rose on tiptoe and blew gently on his eyes.
The soft breeze seemed to stir the dark waves in Zhou Shanheng’s eyes, and the ripples spread all the way to his heart’s core.
Until his whole heart and eyes were filled with the young man before him.
Xin Hexue comforted, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
The force coming from the chest cavity was the thumping of his heart.
Zhou Shanheng’s ears turned red. He straightened up and changed the topic, “Hexue, how long are you going to stay in this form? Is it harmful to your body?”
“At least seven days. At the time, I had to urgently escape from the monks of Taichu Temple, so I took a shrinking pill.”
That’s what the fox demon told him. The effect would last about seven days, but there weren’t really any side effects.
Xin Hexue stood on the square table, not even as tall as the nearby mountain-shaped brush rest used to lay down calligraphy brushes. The black ebony brush hung on the brush hanger at the other end of the table, while the mountain-shaped rest was now empty. Xin Hexue lazily leaned against it. Even in his small form, his features were still delicate and handsome, like distant mountains gathered and autumn waters flowing.
By the time Zhou Shanheng finished recounting everything, it was already evening.
Xin Hexue sat upright on the square table with horse-hoof legs. Before Zhou Shanheng went downstairs to eat, he said he would bring back some food afterward, but Xin Hexue declined with the reason that demons did not eat grains.
Xin Hexue said, “Just bring up a basin of hot water for me to wash up.”
Zhou Shanheng nodded.
The lodging house provided two simple meals daily in the morning and evening, included in the boarding fee paid to the innkeeper. The midday meal was to be arranged by the guests themselves, either using the lodging’s kitchen or going out to the pancake shop, tea house, or restaurant.
The room and board fee at Yanzhunan Lodging wasn’t high, so naturally the food couldn’t be called luxurious, just homestyle dishes to fill the stomach.
Zhou Shanheng carried up a soup pot from the first floor which was filled with hot water, and also brought up another jug with cold water.
He originally wanted to bring up a basin of warm water directly, but considering Xin Hexue’s current size, the basin would be like a massive object, and there was a risk of drowning.
There was the sound of gurgling water.
The hot and cold water were poured respectively into a teacup with a narrow spout. After Xin Hexue tested the temperature, he said, “It’s okay now.”
Only then did Zhou Shanheng put down the hot soup pot and the cold jug.
His demeanor was a bit awkward and he moved the ink screen from the desk over. The small screen was originally used to prevent the wind from drying the ink in the inkstone, but now it served well as a privacy screen for Xin Hexue.
Zhou Shanheng sat on the edge of the bed, the scroll in his hand already wrinkled from how tightly he gripped it due to nervousness. He didn’t dare to lift his head, obediently staring at the text. “Go ahead and wash. If anything happens, just call me.”
The wide-mouthed, deep-bottomed teacup wasn’t very large, but it worked well as a bath bucket for Xin Hexue.
Zhou Shanheng could only hear faint splashing sounds. He lowered his head even further, almost burying it in the scroll. And when he heard someone speak, he thought it was a hallucination.
Xin Hexue called him, “Ziyue-ge?”
Zhou Shanheng came back to his senses as if waking from a dream. “What’s wrong?”
Through the ink screen, Xin Hexue’s voice sounded slightly muffled. “This water is getting cold. Could you help me change it?”
The teacup couldn’t hold much water, and outside was a winter night with melting snow. The temperature was low, so the water in the cup turned cold in less than half a stick of incense.
Zhou Shanheng felt a little at a loss. After thinking it over, he said, “Then I’ll scoop out the cold water from the cup with a spoon over the screen, and pour in hot water instead. Would that be alright?”
Xin Hexue agreed, so Zhou Shanheng asked him to watch out for the wooden spoon that would dip into the teacup.
Zhou Shanheng stood behind the ink screen, keeping his eyes on the moonlight shining onto the floor from the entrance. He didn’t dare look behind the screen and relied solely on memory to dip the wooden spoon into the cup.
He managed to scoop up a spoonful of water, and let out a sigh of relief.
But when he lifted it out, he saw the bathwater in the spoon rippling gently, and sitting right in the center of the wooden spoon was a snow-white koi.
It was small, fitting perfectly in the center like a plump, white Lantern Festival dumpling.
Zhou Shanheng suddenly froze.
The Lantern Festival fish in the water blew a bubble at him.
………
By the time Zhou Shanheng came from downstairs after washing up, it was already the second watch of the night.
He lit a candle in front of the table, used the moonlight to review his books, and then ground ink to copy another copy of the scroll.
His eye injury had almost completely healed, but under such dim candlelight at night, his eyes still inevitably felt strained.
Zhou Shanheng rubbed his dry eyes.
At this time, there were no copying machines. The original scroll had to be kept, and after sending a copy out, he’d have to copy a new one before the next visit. With dozens of poems and additional essays, the amount of work to be copied was quite significant.
Xin Hexue sat at the head of the bed watching him. “Do you need my help?”
Zhou Shanheng was startled, then shook his head. “Am I disturbing your rest? I tend to sleep late at night, are you tired?”
Xin Hexue nimbly leapt from the bed head onto the table and climbed up onto Zhou Shanheng’s shoulder.
Glowing balls of light fluttered in the air, like immortal magic. Dots of luminous light swirled around the black ebony brush, and the brush moved on its own, writing vigorously with swift strokes that resembled a swimming dragon, quickly filling the paper with characters mimicking Zhou Shanheng’s handwriting.
“All done,” Xin Hexue patted Zhou Shanheng’s shoulder. “Go to sleep.”
When sleeping at night, Xin Hexue nestled near Zhou Shanheng’s shoulder and neck, close to the hollow of his throat, making it a cozy spot for warmth.
Zhou Shanheng didn’t dare move at all, fearing he’d crush Xin Hexue by turning over, so he lay flat and straight all night, not moving even once.
During the day, Zhou Shanheng was often out making courtesy calls. Because Xin Hexue was so small, he was worried about unexpected accidents, so he just stayed in the room at the lodging house and waited for Zhou Shanheng’s return.
Fortunately, the guest rooms were only cleaned by a young servant in the morning. Other than that, no one else came by.
Xin Hexue found it strange. Although he had escaped the restraints of the tracking bangles, Du Zhi could certainly guess that aside from looking for Zhou Shanheng, he wouldn’t be heading anywhere else. But for several days, the lodging house was eerily quiet during the day, without any movement at all.
Du Zhi hadn’t come looking for him, which Xin Hexue found unusual.
The fox demon who came to see him mentioned that Du Zhi had been summoned back to Taichu Temple two days ago and then hastily left the capital again, perhaps carrying out an order from the national monk Liao Yi.
The fox demon rubbed his chin and muttered thoughtfully, “I don’t know why, but since the beginning of the year, ever since the earth dragon stirred, there’s been an unusual increase in demon and ghost disturbances everywhere.”
It felt oddly ironic for a fox demon to say such things.
Xin Hexue also found the situation strange, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly felt off.
It wasn’t until evening that Zhou Shanheng returned. After taking care of his evening washing and other chores, Xin Hexue lay on the pillow but didn’t hear any sound of Zhou Shanheng getting into bed.
He propped himself up on his elbow and looked toward the table. Zhou Shanheng was sitting with his side facing him.
Xin Hexue asked, “Are you studying late again tonight?”
Zhou Shanheng seemed engrossed in his task and didn’t hear Xin Hexue’s voice.
Xin Hexue had no choice but to get out of bed and lightly leap onto the table. “What are you doing…?”
Under the flickering flame of the lone candle, Zhou Shanheng held a piece of cloth and stitched rapidly. Xin Hexue glanced at the size of the cloak and knew it definitely wasn’t meant for Zhou Shanheng’s fingers.
Was it a cloak for him?
Xin Hexue stepped closer, and Zhou Shanheng finally noticed him. In his fluster, he pricked the pad of his thumb with the needle.
A fresh bead of blood welled up.
Afraid of staining the partially finished cloak, he quickly put everything down and wrapped his finger with a cloth.
Xin Hexue asked hesitantly, “Were you sewing this for me?”
Zhou Shanheng lowered his head in embarrassment. “I just wanted to give it a try. In a few days, it’ll be the twelfth lunar month. The weather will get even colder.”
Seeing that Xin Hexue’s clothing was so thin, he thought of sewing a padded cloak for him.
Xin Hexue stepped forward and patted the cloth-covered thumb. “Let me see?”
Zhou Shanheng slowly loosened the cloth. The bleeding had already stopped. Xin Hexue leaned against his thumb, shaking it slightly as he said, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a demon. As long as I have spiritual power, I’m immune to wind and snow.”
Zhou Shanheng frowned with concern. “But what if your spiritual power runs out?”
It was the first time he had encountered the concept of a demon’s spiritual power. He was worried that Xin Hexue’s healing of his eye and helping him copy the scroll had drained too much of it.
Xin Hexue’s eyes curved, a sly gleam flickering in them. “Haven’t you read strange tales before? Demons naturally have ways to replenish their spiritual power quickly. It just depends on whether you’re willing or not… Ziyue-ge, are you willing to give me some essence?”
Zhou Shanheng’s ears turned bright red. He mumbled something, then avoided his gaze.
Xin Hexue: “…I wasn’t saying right now.”
Zhou Shanheng nodded. “Of course I’m willing.”
Xin Hexue tilted his head slightly and suddenly asked, “Do you know the spoon boy?”
Zhou Shanheng didn’t understand what he was getting at but still nodded. “I do.”
In strange tales, there was a story about a scholar in the Imperial Academy who was studying late at night when a two-foot-tall little ghost appeared on the table. Its head was covered in tiny, twinkling lights like stars. It played with the inkstone, blew out the candle, and made a mess of the student’s desk, leaving him no peace.
The scholar boldly caught the little ghost, only to find he was holding a wooden spoon, dotted with over a hundred grains of millet.
Xin Hexue tapped the center of his forehead. “Then go to sleep early. Otherwise, I’ll mess up everything on your desk.”
When Zhou Shanheng lay in bed, he imagined the scene.
Even if Xin Hexue turned into a mischievous little ghost, he’d still be the most pitiful and cute millet spoon in the world.
After Xin Huexue nestled in the warm hollow of his neck, Zhou Shanheng pulled the quilt higher and tucked it in tightly.
“There’ll be a lantern festival in the capital in December. When the time comes…” Zhou Shanheng lowered his voice and asked, only to realize Xin Hexue seemed to have already fallen asleep.
Then he would wait until morning to ask again.
………
Xin Hexue stayed in the lodging during the day. With nothing to do, he flipped through books on the table.
But he was too small now. He had to stand on the page to read, and had to jump down to turn the page, holding it with both hands to flip it over.
The window hadn’t been closed tightly. A gust of strong northern wind blew in, rustling the pages wildly one after another.
Xin Hexue was directly lifted into the air by the wind.
With swift movements like an eagle or a falcon, he bent his legs and arched his back, letting go of the window frame and leaping through the fierce wind into the room.
Xin Hexue floated and landed in his hand.
“So small,” Hen Zhen clicked his tongue and held the little person in his palm up to his vertical snake pupils to inspect. “I feel like I could eat in one bite.”
Xin Hexue ignored his words. Hen Zhen placed him back on the table properly, then began pacing back and forth with a manic and anxious air. Finally, he stared fixedly at Xin Hexue. “Your whole body reeks of that poor scholar.”
He looked as though he were seriously considering whether to eat Xin Hexue in one bite and then lick the little person clean all over again.
Suddenly, he remembered something, pulled out the nearby chair, and sat down grandly. His eyes never left Xin Hexue, and his vertical pupils locked onto him like prey. “I already told you.”
“If you go looking for that poor scholar again, I’ll lock you to the head of the bed. I’ll make sure when you open and close your eyes, you see only me.”
He jabbered on for a while, the latter half of his words almost completely censored by K.
Xin Hexue didn’t catch a single clear word of what he said.
“This isn’t your fault,” Hen Zhen murmured, his eyes tinged with a faint red. “It’s these shameless poor scholars, trying to seduce other people’s partners.”
He said every word with a chilling tone. His sword-like eyebrows turned cold, and his vertical pupils stared at Xin Hexue. “But it’s fine.”
“Your Ziyue-ge will soon become a dead Ziyue-ge.”
When he said the name, his mockery was obvious.
Xin Hexue frowned. From Hen Zhen’s words, it seemed he wanted to make a move on Zhou Shanheng again.
He might need to first coax this manic, temperamental mad dog.
Xin Hexue: “Hen Zhen… gege?”
Xin Hexue: “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Or perhaps…” Xin Hexue leapt into Hen Zhen’s palm, his fishtail gently brushing Hen Zhen’s little finger, which felt cool and ticklish. “Do you want me to call you…”
He tilted his head slightly. “Husband?”
This title made Hen Zhen’s scalp tingle, and his snake pupils dilated for a moment.
Right. Xin Hexue’s heart protective scale had his name etched on it.
Who was Xin Hexue’s true love? It was an undisputed fact.
Hen Zhen felt he had already beaten all those stray dogs, bald monks, and poor scholars by a lot.
He sneered at the fortune-teller on that street stall.
He actually said he was being played around like a dog by Xin Hexue?
Wasn’t he originally Xin Hexue’s dog? Revolving around Xin Hexue was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?
And they called themselves masters?
Xin Hexue sharply caught the scent of blood on Hen Zhen, and at the same time, sensed that the spiritual power around Hen Zhen had grown even deeper.
“You’re hurt? Or is it that your old injuries haven’t healed?” Xin Hexue was in a good mood. “Let me change your medicine.”
Hen Zhen’s thin lips curved into a smile. “Alright, thank you, my dear.”
There were others who wanted Zhou Shanheng dead even more than he did. So he wasn’t in a hurry to do it himself. If he acted rashly and Xin Hexue ended up resenting him, what would he do then?
He only needed to wait.
