Chapter 86

“You knew someone was out there! How could you open the door to scare me like that?!”

Though her accusation was squarely aimed at Yun Shen, He Yu, standing at the door, instinctively closed it quietly instead. He offered a gentle smile, seemingly ready to play along with her twisted logic and coax her patiently. Yet barely had he opened his mouth when Yun Shen spoke first.

“What do you think?” he countered, his expression uncharacteristically restless. He stood up and sat back down, his eyes betraying an uncharacteristic trace of uncontrolled emotion. “Fangcheng is nothing like Diancang Pass. It’s a place full of snares, where everyone holds ulterior motives. If we aren’t extremely cautious—”

“I was being cautious!” Chen Shu retorted dismissively. “When I was eavesdropping earlier, I didn’t make a single sound! You’re a scholar, not a fighter—how on earth did you hear me?”

Yun Shen fell silent for a moment before admitting, “…I didn’t hear you. I bluffed.”

“—So that’s it!” Chen Shu stomped her foot, slapping her forehead in chagrin before pointing an accusing finger at Yun Shen. “I knew it was your trickery! No one else could have seen through my impeccable stealth skills!”

He Yu, behind her, chuckled and said, “Yes, yes! How could the champion of the Sword Discussion Tournament be found out so simply? But tell us, champion, what suddenly spurred you to eavesdrop on these two nobodies in the dead of night?”

His frankness made Chen Shu blush. She mumbled something incomprehensible, glanced up to see Yun Shen watching her too, then stomped over to the bed. She plopped directly beside Yun Shen, picked up the small clay bottle on the little table, examined it curiously for a moment, and finally answered with reluctance, “I just got bored all alone! So I came out for a walk! When I passed your room, I heard voices saying things like ‘after all, they’ve never revealed their true origins to us,’ and something about ‘mere chance encounters in passing’…” Her voice trailed off as she stole another glance at Yun Shen.

Yun Shen froze momentarily. Before He Yu could react, he found himself laughing involuntarily. Noticing Chen Shu’s sidelong look, he didn’t speak, simply scooted over discreetly to give her more space as she focused back on the polished clay bottle.

“Bored?” He Yu sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “We got you your very own room! And now you’re complaining to us, sharing cramped quarters, that you were bored?”

As he spoke, He Yu also walked over to the bedside and sat on his stool. He gently took the clay bottle Chen Shu was holding and placed it back on the table. Chen Shu’s bright eyes fixed on He Yu. She pulled her hands back onto the bed, her anger seemingly lingering but warring with embarrassment. She pressed her lips together, her gaze flitting repeatedly towards Yun Shen.

“…She thought we were talking about her,” Yun Shen finally said, amused.

This time, He Yu also froze. He and Chen Shu stared blankly at each other for a moment before understanding dawned. He shook his head, clapped his hands together, and burst into hearty laughter.

The robust laughter shattered the solitude of the night, seeming to jostle the moonlight itself. Stars of silver light scattered across the floor, reflecting fragmented patterns from the window lattice onto the ground.

Chen Shu’s flush deepened, vibrant even in the cool night air, like a blush as endearing as a winter sun. Frowning, her features scrunched up indignantly. “What’s so funny! Not only do you talk behind my back, now you laugh at me!”

“How dare we gossip behind your back!” laughed He Yu, gesturing towards the hallway. “We were talking about the innkeeper! I just thought today’s events felt off, so I was casually discussing it with Yun Shen.”

“Oh!” Chen Shu responded. After thinking for a while, she made another belated “Oh,” tucked both arms that had been propped at her sides closer together, stuck out her tongue, and skipped past the misunderstanding, her face bright red. “Nevertheless,” she declared stiffly, “I too found today’s events quite strange!”

“Oh?” Yun Shen responded, leaning back to observe her patiently. “Tell us about it.”

“When I came downstairs to look for you all, I had to walk through an awfully long corridor—” Chen Shu began, extending one hand to gesture. “Guess what? What do you think I heard?”

“What did you hear… Could vile bandits be staying in this inn? Related to the Diancang Pass flood?” He Yu asked.

Chen Shu shook her head smugly. By then, she had regained her usual spiritedness. “No!” After uttering that, she turned to Yun Shen specifically, “pinpointing” him to answer. “What about you, Brother Yun? Make a guess too!”

Pinpointed like this, He Yu’s gaze also settled on Yun Shen. Yun Shen couldn’t avoid answering now. He yielded with a tolerant smile and said,

“You didn’t hear a thing.”

“— Correct.” Chen Shu stared at Yun Shen in astonishment before finally retracting her gaze. “In this inn ‘packed like a sardine’, I walked through the entire length of a corridor and actually heard nothing at all!”

—

The next day, the sun was already high in the sky when Chen Shu emerged from her room. Xuan Qin was already in the courtyard, drilling Ying Wei in sword practice.

Watching them, Chen Shu clicked her tongue noisily, clamoring to grab a tree branch and join in for a bit. Ying Wei, already in a foul mood, grew even more irate hearing her cavalier remark. His expression suggested he might just drop everything and quit right then, letting Chen Shu personally experience this “light” morning training session.

The two were on the verge of squabbling, chattering angrily again, but this time, before their argument could truly start, Xuan Qin interrupted,

“Miss Chen’s swordsmanship has already reached the perfected realm. Naturally, she needn’t bother exerting herself with such basic exercises,” he stated, completely unsympathetic as he hauled Ying Wei, who had just ducked under the veranda eaves, right back to the center of the courtyard.

That tall, silent figure instantly became incomparably imposing beneath Ying Wei’s resentful gaze. Chen Shu watched as Ying Wei forcibly swallowed all his grumbles and complaints and resumed his drills. Involuntarily, she took half a step back, quietly gulping.

A flicker of smugness scarcely had time to surface before she felt a distinct sense of unease stir within her.

Just then, He Yu happened to come downstairs. Chen Shu, for reasons unclear even to herself, as if gripped by this newfound apprehension, swiftly latched onto this “lifeline.” She dashed over to him in a couple of quick steps.

“What’s wrong?” He Yu asked. Whatever thought flashed through his mind, he didn’t wait for Chen Shu’s answer but instead spoke mostly to himself, “Oh? Is everyone gathered? I’m a rough fellow; I just rolled out of bed and came straight down. If you’re looking for him, you’d best go back up and search.”

Amongst the companions who’d arranged to search for the sword earlier, there was only one person missing downstairs. He Yu’s implication was perfectly clear.

Chen Shu’s mind was still foggy—perhaps shocked by the scene in the courtyard, perhaps still drowsy from a good night’s sleep she hadn’t fully shaken off. Hearing He Yu, she simply gave a vague “Hmm?” and trundled upstairs via his route to find Yun Shen.

The same room. The same door. Unlike the gloomy dimness of last night, warm sunlight now spilled through the crack beneath it. Chen Shu stepped along the streaks of pale gold light cast upon the floorboards as she walked to the doorway. She finally breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had only just snapped back to her senses.

The light falling onto Yun Shen’s doorway beamed directly onto her collar opening. Maybe because of this, or perhaps because the door wasn’t fully closed—as she pushed it further open, her entire being was enveloped in the brilliant, dazzling sunlight.

Chen Shu squinted her eyes against the glare and saw Yun Shen still seated on the same bed as the night before. This time, however, his outer layers were completely undone; a plain, light-colored, undershirt was clumsily draped across his back.

For just an instant, as the sunlight dazzled her, the entire room blurred slightly. Only Yun Shen’s silhouette remained visible against the brightness—a shape distinctly obscure. His arm jerked abruptly. Before Chen Shu could clearly discern anything, he had flung his entire outer robe over his back, covering what she might have inadvertently glimpsed beneath the slip. Then he turned around facing the doorway.

“Why have you come? Is there some matter?” His tone was stiff, his expression inscrutable.

“Nothing,” Chen Shu declared. She neither noticed Yun Shen’s unusual tension nor concerned herself with the “attire” making him unfit for company at that moment. Brushing past it, she walked straight into the room, sat herself down on the bed near him, and even pressed a hand against her chest as if trying to soothe her rapidly thudding heart, “Oh—actually yes! Everyone’s gathered downstairs; I’ve come to fetch you!”

“Fine. I’ll be right down,” Yun Shen announced, his fingers clutching the edges of the outer robe he’d hastily drawn on. He then focused solely on Chen Shu, studying her intently as she gradually caught her breath enough to lift her head and meet his gaze.

“What’s gotten into you? Seems like you haven’t gathered yourself yet. What’s troubling you?” he frowned, remaining perfectly still except for his spoken inquiry.

Only then did Chen Shu tilt her head to look properly at him. Her cheeks puffed out slightly. “… No big trouble. Just… Ying Wei’s being drilled relentlessly downstairs… So I’m hiding out up here.”

Yun Shen’s expression remained neutral. He let out a slight disbelieving laugh. “You fear sword drills?”

“I don’t fear them,” Chen Shu answered. “But… I’m starting to miss my master… my senior brother… my senior sister…” After saying this, she lifted her head, gazing directly upwards at the ceiling.

Sunbeams funneled through the lattice windowpanes, causing the floor planking to glow softly across the entire room, yet the massive ridge-beam spanning the chamber’s peak overhead remained encased in thick shadow, indistinct in the gaps between the heavy timbers.

Yun Shen watched her for a moment. “… Don’t you miss your sword?” His question broke her contemplation.

“I do too,” said Chen Shu. Putting on an act of maturity, she sighed briefly and swiftly dispelled that moment of melancholy. Turning her head back to him, she added, “Oh right, you’re always in a bad mood when you wake up, right?”

“…No.”

Chen Shu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Oh, but you are!” she declared brightly. “You were that way at Diancang Pass too—so bad-tempered every morning! Just now, you were trying to shoo me away, weren’t you?”

“Indeed,” Yun Shen retorted, the smile vanishing from his face, his words turning stiff. “Go brood about your sect if you must, but why do it in my room? I haven’t even put on—”

Before he could finish, Chen Shu gave a little snort of disapproval and muttered, “So coy!” as she rose to her feet.

She stood up so swiftly that Yun Shen visibly swallowed the rest of his sentence, looking rather foolish and crestfallen. Awkwardly, he glanced down. The thin undertunic he wore was safely covered by his outer robe; nothing untoward was visible. Relief washed over him, and he started to loosen the robe. Just then, he realized Chen Shu’s footsteps weren’t fading but actually drawing nearer. He lifted his eyes slightly—

A head popped right into his view, scrutinizing him with wide-eyed curiosity.

“—Whatever is wrong, Yun Shen? You’re never usually this reserved.”

Yun Shen’s eyes snapped wide open. Instinct screamed at him to recoil, yet an invisible cord seemed to bind him—not only stopping any retreat, but erasing the very thought of escape.

Chen Shu leaned sideways with effortless ease, pivoting her face practically sideways and right before Yun Shen. She peered at him, studied him. He found himself utterly ensnared by that look—not a demanding glare, but pure, simple curiosity. Drawn inexorably into its focus, his breath hitched, landing against Chen Shu’s cheeks in quick successions.

Their mingled breaths soon twined together. A coolness, faint as mist melting off frost, brushed Chen Shu’s lashes. She blinked, but this time didn’t comment on Yun Shen’s refreshing coolness like before. Instead, her gaze finally anchored, settling deep into his eyes with an unwavering, almost innocent concentration.

In those ash-hued pupils, she couldn’t decipher the complex emotions swirling within. She could only see her own reflection, layered hazily over the chaos beneath. Time seemed to stretch thin itself, the world dimmed to insignificance. Yet… there it was. A single lash, crimson like fire, stark and unmistakable against the grey. It grew, spreading unnervingly across his iris, an unexpected trespass that inexplicably ruffled her calm.

“Oh…” she whispered, concern knitting her brow. “You didn’t get enough sleep? There’s a bloodshot webbing in your eye.”

“…Impossible.” Yun Shen snapped back to reality. He offered a strained laugh, deliberately turning his face away as if dismissing her clumsy attempt to change the subject. But a fraction of a second later, realization struck. His fingers trembling visibly where they gripped his robe, he clutched the fabric even tighter.

Bloodstain on the sword. Bloodshot in the eye.

The Blood Pact—which he’d pushed to the back of his mind for so long.