Zhongli Zixi lay silently in the absolute darkness, holding his breath in trepidation all night, terrified of hearing even the slightest sound from the small thatched hut.
Before he could make sense of anything or untangle his thoughts, dawn had already broken. He had never felt a night could be so fleeting.
As the morning glow faded, he fumbled his way up, crookedly pulling on his outer robe, and limped toward the door of the small hut to knock. His movements were incredibly light and slow, as if he were afraid the person inside might actually hear him.
There was no response.
Now that his internal power was completely destroyed, Zhongli Zixi could not tell if someone was inside even if they were right in front of him. Since being crippled, this was the first time he felt so tangibly that he was effectively deaf and mute, weak and powerless.
Without a word, he stood outside in silence, waiting.
*The mountain light gladdens the birds' nature; the pool's reflection empties the human heart.* It wasn't until the weary birds returned to their nests, the spring sun dried the morning dew, and the flowing water carried away the fallen blossoms that he gradually understood the weight of the saying "there is no time in the mountains." For a person to live a lifetime was a duration so long it was suffocating.
"Ye Jun," he said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "I’m going back first. I’ll come again later."
He limped back to the wooden house, never having dared to push the door open.
Zhongli Zixi returned to the wooden house and sat withered until the sun sank behind the western mountains. Having not closed his eyes for a day and a night, he was reaching his limit.
He dawdled back to the hut, supporting himself against the walls. He stood in a daze at the entrance for a while before asking the wooden door, "I’m not used to living over there. Can I come back here to sleep?"
He waited a moment out of habit, but still, no one answered him.
Zhongli Zixi took a deep breath and pushed open the wooden door.
A bed and a table—simple and tidy, but utterly empty.
Ye Jun had long since vanished without a trace.
Zhongli Zixi stood dazed for a moment, then finally let out a soft laugh of relief. All his fears and anxieties, along with the ridiculous expectations attached to them, finally vanished into smoke.
He struggled to climb onto the small, rough bed, closing his tired eyes on the bare wooden boards from which the bedding had been removed.
The night wind brought the moisture of the mountain stream, the fresh scent of grass and peach blossoms, and the damp, musty smell of the wood, but it lacked the scent of Ye Jun.
Ye Jun was originally a person without any scent at all.
Zhongli Zixi had once liked that about him. Back then, he was forced to deal with many people every day and forced to smell many loathsome auras: the bloody stench of the murderous, the copper reek of the greedy, the powdery scent of the sycophants...
Only Ye Jun was different. No matter how much slaughter he had accumulated on his hands, his aura was always clean.
That was one of the reasons Ye Jun had once earned his favor. Now, however, Zixi felt a spark of resentment toward this trait, for it left him without even a final trace to linger upon.
Zhongli Zixi spent over ten days practicing how to walk and work. He fell until there wasn't a patch of skin left unbruised, but he finally grew accustomed to this nearly crippled body and could manage to eat using his left hand.
He had to eat, he had to survive; there were simply too many things to do every day, and his pace was far too slow. He discovered that merely staying alive kept him so busy that he no longer had time to dwell on the man who had, in the end, left him just like everyone else.
As spring drew to a close, the mountain rains grew more violent with each storm. The low-quality thatched hut trembled for days in the miserable wind and bitter rain until a section of the overburdened roof was swept away by a gale. Zhongli Zixi was woken mid-sleep by the torrential rain pouring directly onto him.
He lay in the dilapidated, leaking hut, staring blankly upward for a while. He thought of the frigid poisons of the Hall of Forgotten Lives—they were like maggots in the bone, nearly impossible to cure.
It wasn't until his limbs were ice-cold that he realized with delayed shock that if he fell ill, he certainly wouldn't have the strength to walk from the mountains to the village to seek a physician. Moreover, he was so destitute he couldn't afford a single copper of the consultation fee. He had no choice but to get up and stumble through the dark back to the large wooden house.
Looking through the wooden house's window, catching glimpses of the dilapidated hut swaying in the wind and rain during the flashes of lightning, he couldn't help but sigh. "So fragile."
It was indeed fragile, simple, and rough. Even so, Zhongli Zixi couldn't bear to abandon it.
After all, it was the only thing in these deep mountains that held a connection to Ye Jun.
The next day, the heavy rain lasted until the afternoon before the sky finally cleared. Zhongli Zixi gathered the scattered thatch and added some new straw, preparing to climb up and fix the roof.
However, with one hand and one leg crippled, and his dantian empty of internal energy, even walking was difficult. Climbing a ladder to the roof was easier said than done.
When Ye Jun built this hut, he had placed it near a high rock to capture the mountain scenery. If one were careless while repairing the roof, they would fall into the mountain stream. The spring chill was biting, the stream water was bone-chillingly cold, and the rocks on both sides were steep and sharp. Whether one could climb back up after falling was a true unknown.
Zhongli Zixi circled the base of the hut with his cane, picking an angle to climb.
He had just finished the repairs with great care and let out a sigh of relief when a startled bird suddenly took flight nearby, slamming headfirst into the ladder with great force. Zhongli Zixi was knocked off balance and immediately fell from the eaves. He clawed frantically at the air, but everything was slick after the rain, and there was nothing to grab.
He fell, hitting the terrace railing hard, and was knocked half a zhang away into the mountain stream. But he wasn't submerged in the icy water; instead, he fell into a warm embrace. Unfortunately, his momentum was too great. The person catching him couldn't steady themselves and was instead knocked into the flowing water with him. He heard a short, suppressed groan near his ear, so faint it was almost inaudible, sounding as if it carried intense pain.
Ye Jun caught the Young Master. Fearing the stream would soak his clothes, he held him high above his head. Once he had neutralized the impact and stood firm, he paused for a moment before leaping back onto the shore.
Ye Jun placed his Young Master down to sit against the railing on the steps, then retreated half a step to kneel before him.
He pulled a small command token forged of fine iron from his robe and handed it over. He glanced at it, pulled it back to rub it against his chest to wipe away a smudge, and then offered it again with both hands.
Though it was only a fleeting glimpse, Zhongli Zixi could tell that the smudge had been a trace of blood.
"This is the 'Night Sovereign’s Imperial Command' for Yexing this year. I just obtained it," Ye Jun said, lowering his eyes and nodding respectfully. He spoke softly, "I offer it to you, my Master."
Zhongli Zixi stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend the words, frozen in a daze.
After a long silence, he murmured to himself, "Why did you have to..."
Ye Jun asked instead, "Which do you believe in more: my loyalty to you, or my responsibility to the title of 'Ye Jun'?"
In an instant, Zhongli Zixi knew his answer was the latter, and this time, even he felt a sense of guilt.
"You don't need to answer me, Young Master." Ye Jun shook his head, cutting off his thoughts. "Earning your trust is also my duty. I am willing to do anything for you. I know exactly what kind of person you are; you need not feel guilt, nor do you need to change anything for your subordinate."
Ye Jun lowered his head, unfurled the clenched fist resting on Zixi's knee, and pressed a light kiss to his fingertips. "Please rest easy, Young Master. I will handle everything."
"...Since you left for this, why didn't you just tell me?" Zhongli Zixi's voice was raspy, even carrying a hint of grievance.
Ye Jun gave a bitter smile. "The Yexing trials are incredibly perilous. I had no certainty that I would return alive. If something had gone wrong... how could I bear to let you wait in vain?"
As soon as he mentioned this, Zhongli Zixi immediately noticed that Ye Jun’s face was eerily pale, as if he were suffering from severe blood loss. With his usual agility, there was no way he should have failed to catch Zixi cleanly and been knocked into the stream. Startled, he asked, "Are you injured?"
Zhongli Zixi knew his martial arts style well; it had always been characterized by lightness and flexibility, with extremely weak defense. There were only two outcomes when he fought: either he was completely at ease, or he was facing certain death. In the ten years at the Zhongli Estate, Ye Jun had rarely been wounded. He had once said that he wouldn't just be hurt—he would only die.
Ye Jun suppressed his pain and coughed softly, pressing a hand to his chest. "I was injured by this term's Ye Sha. I truly couldn't get up, so I lay there for a while before returning. I rushed too hard today, and the wound accidentally reopened."
Zhongli Zixi’s breath hitched, and a wave of lingering fear washed over him. Seeing Ye Jun swaying, he hurriedly reached out to support him by the waist.
He had never been so intimate with Ye Jun. While he was still hesitating and nervous, Ye Jun had already leaned in of his own accord.
Ye Jun’s voice was weak as he rested his head on Zixi's shoulder. "The injury is a bit heavy this time... I might be a burden to you for a while. I am sorry... Young Master."
Ye Jun’s voice grew lower and lower until his head slumped, and he lost consciousness. Zhongli Zixi carefully avoided his injuries and pulled him into a tight embrace. This man had always been the one who understood him best in the world, always knowing the way to make him feel most at peace.
He whispered, "I’m the one who should apologize."
From his angle, Zhongli Zixi naturally couldn't see that Ye Jun, who was supposed to be unconscious, was wearing a sly and triumphant secret smile.
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