He glanced down at his soiled pants, a faint scowl shadowing his sharp features, then turned his gaze to the figure slumped over the table. The beauty had succumbed to slumber, cheek pressed against the cool surface, soft breaths escaping his lips that looked as though they had been painted with the faintest shade of peach blossom. Shudu clicked his tongue in mild exasperation, leaning down to lift Xue Tuzi gently into his arms. His movements were careful, almost reverent, as he carried the sleeping beauty to the bed. Once there, he brushed a few stray strands of hair from Xue Tuzi's face, his thumb lingering on the delicate curve of his lips. His touch shifted, tracing the tiny mole nestled at the corner of Xue Tuzi's mouth, his exhale deep and steady, as though releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Without a word, Shudu turned, his thoughts unspoken but heavy, and made his way to the bathhouse, with the ever-watchful Xiao Zongzi trailing behind him. The humid air of the bathhouse greeted him, warm and thick, the maid preparing the bath stilled at the sight of him. Her hands faltered, her face a shade of crimson, as Shudu nonchalantly dropped his soiled pants to the floor. His sculpted physique was striking—broad shoulders, a firm chest tapering down to a taut waist, his bronzed skin kissed with the faint glow of torchlight. He reached up, unweaving the tight braid that crowned his head. The cascade of midnight-black hair fell like a silken waterfall, tumbling past his waist and brushing against his ankles with a fluid grace.
As he flexed his arms, glancing down at the intricate tattoos etched into his skin—inked shapes of sinister insects and reptiles—his brows furrowed. Among the artistry, fresh bite marks stood out, their raised edges a stark contrast to the smooth planes of his arm. "That little brat got me good," he muttered, sighing as he eased himself into the steaming water. The heat enveloped him, relaxing taut muscles and soothing his lingering irritation.
Above him, Xiao Zongzi dangled from the beams like a mischievous shadow, her voice laced with mock reproach. "Master should know better than to provoke Second Master. Xiao Jiao esteem's him"
Shudu shot her a sharp glare, water rippling as he shifted. "Huh? Even you're on his side now? Do I have any loyal subordinates left?" His tone was half-serious, half-irritated, but he didn't wait for a response. Instead, he rolled his eyes and sank deeper into the water, submerging himself entirely. Below the surface, his brows drew together in concentration, his body still as he slipped into a meditative state.
Hours passed. The once-steaming water had cooled, its surface calm and glassy—until small bubbles began to rise. Shudu emerged with a sudden splash, droplets scattering like jewels in the faint light of dawn. Xiao Zongzi squeaked in protest, her delicate spiderweb disintegrating under the assault of water. Shudu didn't so much as glance at her, pulling himself out of the bath with unhurried movements. The water clung to his muscular form, tracing rivulets down the ridges of his abdomen and the curve of his back. The first rays of sunlight spilled through the open window, gilding his bronze skin with a faint, golden glow.
He scanned the room, realization dawning with a grimace. He had forgotten to bring a fresh change of clothes. With a resigned sigh, he picked up his discarded pants, holding them at arm's length. "Well, I can't very well walk around wearing this," he muttered, his lips curling in distaste. Without ceremony, he tossed them onto a basket.
Rolling his neck, he stretched, the motion rippling through his shoulders like a languid predator shaking off its slumber. Droplets flew from his hair as he shook his head, sending stray locks cascading over his shoulders. "That should do it," he murmured to himself, his tone casual despite his current state of undress. And with that, he strode out, with no care of the absence of clothing, leaving a trail of damp footprints in his wake.
He strode out into the corridor, entirely unbothered by the shocked stares and flushed faces of the disciples who froze at the sight of him. Their whispers and darting gazes barely registered as Shudu moved with a calm confidence, the sunlight streaming through the hallways illuminating his bronzed skin and cascading hair like a deity descending from the heavens. Each step echoed with unapologetic authority as he made his way to Xue Tuzi's room, pushing the open with a nonchalant flick of his wrist.
Inside, the room was bathed in soft golden light, the morning sun painting the walls and furniture in a warm glow. Shudu crossed to the mirror, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Grabbing a towel, he began patting his face dry, droplets of water clinging to the sharp angles of his jaw and the strong curve of his neck. Behind him, Xue Tuzi stirred, his delicate eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings before his eyes snapped open. What he saw made his breath hitch—the imposing figure of Shudu, standing utterly naked in his room, his form sculpted like a work of art brought to life.
The sunlight kissed every ridge and plane of Shudu's body, the sleek muscles of his chest and arms gilded in gold, his long, ink-black hair flowing like liquid night down his back. Shudu's piercing gaze caught Xue Tuzi's in the reflection of the mirror, and his lips stretched into a sly, wolfish smile. His sharp fangs glinted briefly in the sunlight as he lowered the towel, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "Do you like what you see?" he asked, tilting his head back slightly, the motion predatory, his eyes locked onto Xue Tuzi's stunned expression.
Xue Tuzi's face burned, and with a soft, muffled voice, he retorted from under the safety of his blankets. "I've never seen a cockroach admire itself in front of a mirror." Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lowered the edge of the blanket, his wide, doe-like eyes peeking out. He couldn't help but steal another glance at Shudu. He had never seen him with his hair down before—it was mesmerizing, the inky strands swirling and bouncing with every movement like ripples of ink spreading on water. Every subtle shift of Shudu's body seemed amplified, every detail of his well-defined form highlighted by the interplay of shadow and sunlight.
The heat in the room seemed to intensify, though the sun alone wasn't to blame. Xue Tuzi shrank deeper into his sheets, his cheeks blooming with the rosy hue of shame. Before he could say another word, Shudu moved closer, his long strides exuding purpose. The corner of his lips lifted into a wicked grin as he leaned over, tugging the blanket down just enough to reveal Xue Tuzi's face, which had turned as pink as a peach blossom. His voice dropped to a whisper, low and velvety as he leaned close to Xue Tuzi's ear, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "Careful," he murmured, his fangs grazing Xue Tuzi's ear, "this beetle stings." His warm lips pressed ever so briefly to Xue Tuzi's ear before he straightened and departed, leaving behind the faintest trace of his presence.
Xue Tuzi let out a soft, exasperated grunt, his breath shaky as he buried his face in the pillow. The lingering scent of Shudu, musky and earthy, clung to the air, making it impossible to think of anything else. After a moment, he peeked out from under his pillow, his wide, confused gaze landing on Jiao Jiao. The little Gu worm rested on the nightstand, staring at him with its curious, big bulging eyes, as though trying to piece together the strange scene it had witnessed the night before.
"I'm dirty," Xue Tuzi whispered to himself, his voice trembling with self-loathing. His hands clutched at his chest as he curled into a ball, his shoulders shaking. "Disgusting. Filthy." His eyes rimmed with unshed tears as guilt and shame twisted in his heart, the emotions overwhelming him until he could no longer sit still.
He threw back the covers, his movements frantic, and stumbled toward his chest of belongings. Pulling out a long ribbon, he clenched it tightly, his knuckles white as he began lashing it across his own back and shoulders. Each strike left a mark, angry and red, but no matter how many times the ribbon bit into his skin, it couldn't extinguish the heat that burned deep within him. His chest heaved as he fell to his knees, clutching the ribbon in trembling hands.
Shudu's teasing words, the ghost of his touch, and the sinful curve of his lips lingered like a curse. Xue Tuzi gasped for air, his lips trembling as he gritted his teeth. He rebuked the craving that gnawed at his soul, the shame of desiring what he considered an abomination. "No," he hissed to himself, his voice breaking, "there is no way I'll give in. I won't lay with a demon… an insect demon, of all things." But even as he spoke, his heart betrayed him, beating wildly at the memory of Shudu's golden form and the dangerous spark in his eyes.
A few hours later, Li Zhameng sat dutifully at the entrance of his Shizun's secluded cave, his posture straight, his expression focused. In his hands, a small knife danced over a piece of wood, shaving delicate curls of material away as he carved with precise, careful movements. The faint sound of the blade against the wood was the only noise in the quiet mountain air. His eyes, bright and determined, never wavered from his task.
"Meng Meng, Shizun hasn't even been gone a full day, and here you are already loitering outside his cave like a lost puppy." The teasing, snarky tone cut through the silence as Xue Tuzi strolled up, his pale robes swaying in the breeze. He glanced down at Li Zhameng with a smirk before plopping down beside him, his presence both intrusive and familiar. "What are you doing, anyway?" he asked, craning his neck to peer into Li Zhameng's hands.
Li Zhameng glanced up briefly, his lips curving into a wide, genuine smile. "I'm making Shizun a new fan," he explained proudly, holding up the half-finished piece of wood. "His old one is frayed and falling apart." His fingers resumed their work, carving intricate patterns onto the fan guards. Each stroke of the blade seemed to hum with purpose as he whittled away, adding delicate details. A soft tune escaped his lips as he worked, a lilting melody that matched his lighthearted mood.
Xue Tuzi puffed out his cheeks, the faintest hint of jealousy flashing across his face. "You should let me help," he said, leaning closer as if to inspect the craftsmanship.
Li Zhameng's brow furrowed in irritation, and his carving paused. "No thanks," he said curtly, his voice carrying the sharpness of a sibling refusing to share a prized possession. He turned his nose up with an exaggerated hmph before returning to his work, his blade cutting deeper into the wood.
Xue Tuzi narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Meng Meng, stop being so stingy! At least let me help with the leaf," he pleaded, his voice laced with mock indignation.
Li Zhameng's brows knitted further, his lips turning into a full pout. "No. This is a gift from me to Shizun," he declared firmly, the finality in his tone making it clear the discussion was over. His knife moved again, scraping fine lines into the wood, his focus unwavering.
But his concentration shattered when Xue Tuzi suddenly shouted, "Meng Meng!" Li Zhameng turned with a scowl, annoyance flickering in his jade like eyes. "You only want to help so you can impress Shizun!" he accused, his tone sharp and accusing.
Xue Tuzi gasped, clutching his chest dramatically as if mortally wounded. "That's not true!" he shot back, his voice rising in defense. "I just don't want it to turn into an ugly, dysfunctional disaster!"
That was the final straw for Li Zhameng. With an irritated growl, he clenched his teeth, tossed his knife aside, and lunged at Xue Tuzi. The two martial brothers tumbled to the ground in a chaotic flurry of limbs, grappling and shoving like squabbling siblings fighting for their mother's approval. Dust flew as they rolled across the dirt, each struggling to get the upper hand.
From Xue Tuzi's pouch, a small, curious head peeked out—Jiao Jiao, the mischievous little Gu worm. With a flick of its tiny body, the worm spat a sticky thread directly at Li Zhameng's face.
"No fair!" Li Zhameng yelled, wiping at his face as Xue Tuzi laughed triumphantly. "Xiao Jiao, stay out of this!" Li Zhameng shouted, his voice muffled by the webbing.
Xue Tuzi smirked and shrugged, "What can I say? He's loyal." But his smugness didn't last long—Li Zhameng threw an elbow that knocked him flat on his back. Before Xue Tuzi could recover, Li Zhameng had him pinned, the sharp blade from earlier now pressed lightly against Xue Tuzi's throat.
"A-Tuzi," Li Zhameng panted, his voice tight with frustration. "Why are you—"
Before he could finish, Xue Tuzi's hand shot up, delivering a swift palm strike to Li Zhameng's cheek. The force sent him sprawling back, clutching his face in stunned silence. Xue Tuzi quickly adjusted his robe, patting off the dust slightly flustered and embarrassed, his cheeks now tinged with a faint pink hue.
"Shizun wouldn't want us fighting," Xue Tuzi said at last, exhaling softly as he tried to compose himself. But even as he spoke, a strange heat stirred in his chest, one he couldn't quite suppress.
Li Zhameng rubbed his swollen cheek, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and confusion. "Right, but—"
"Shhh." Xue Tuzi cut him off, pressing a slender finger against his lips to silence him. His voice softened as he continued, "Let's work on it together, yes?"
Before Li Zhameng could argue, Xue Tuzi pulled a silver needle from his hair, the glint of the metal catching the sunlight. With practiced ease, he retrieved Jiao Jiao from his pouch. The little Gu worm chirped, its tiny body wriggling as it began to spin its silky threads, each strand shimmering like liquid gold in the light.
Hours slipped by as Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng worked side by side, their earlier bickering forgotten in the quiet focus of creation. The fan slowly came to life under their combined efforts, each detail a testament to their shared dedication. The guards of the fan were intricately carved with the graceful patterns of a peach blossom tree. At the base, delicate roots spread out, their lines flowing like veins of life into the stem, which climbed upward, adorned with clusters of blossoms in full bloom. The leaf of the fan shimmered like silk, its white surface painted with drifting peach blossom petals, as though caught mid-flight by an invisible breeze. The petals seemed almost alive, the strokes so precise they gave the illusion of motion, carrying whispers of spring.
When the fan was finally complete, both martial brothers stepped back to admire their handiwork. The light of the setting sun bathed it in a golden glow, making the blossoms and roots seem to glow softly. A quiet sense of pride filled them both. "It's perfect," Li Zhameng whispered, his voice tinged with awe. Xue Tuzi gave a small nod of agreement, his usual sharpness momentarily replaced by a rare softness. Satisfied, they parted ways, each stealing one last glance at the cave where their Shizun remained in deep cultivation.
Xue Tuzi returned to his quarters, his mood subdued yet content, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of Shudu. The demon lounged casually at the low writing desk, his long hair cascading like a river of ink over his shoulders as he bent over a sheet of paper. The flickering candlelight illuminated his strong, bronzed features, and his sharp claws held a brush with surprising delicacy. With practiced strokes, Shudu painted bold, sweeping characters onto the paper. He finished with a flourish, holding the sheet up to admire his work, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
"What is that supposed to be?" Xue Tuzi demanded, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked on Shudu. His tone was a mixture of annoyance as the door clicked shut behind him.
Shudu didn't so much as flinch at his arrival, his grin only widening as he met Xue Tuzi's glare. "Your name," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with mischief as he held the paper out for Xue Tuzi to inspect.
Xue Tuzi snatched it away, holding it up to the light. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the characters, his lips curling into a scowl. "This is barely legible… and it's not even my name," he snapped, his brows furrowing deeply. Without a second thought, he began ripping the paper into shreds, the sound of tearing echoing in the room. He crumpled the remains into a ball and tossed them into the nearby basket with sharp precision.
"Hey, that took time," Shudu complained, leaning back on his hands with a pout, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. "Who told you those were the characters for my name?" Xue Tuzi asked coldly, raising a single brow as he loomed over Shudu.
Shudu tilted his head, feigning deep thought as he tapped a clawed finger against his chin. "Hmm, let me think…" he began, his voice dripping with mock innocence.
Xue Tuzi, already fed up with his antics, reached over and pinched him hard. "Ouch!" Shudu yelped, rubbing the spot with exaggerated drama. Still grinning, he added, "I traded your underwear to some poor sap in exchange for how to write your name."
Xue Tuzi's face darkened, a mix of mortification and rage flashing in his eyes. "That's not my name," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous as his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Shudu's grin only widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the flickering light. "Huh?" he teased, his voice lilting as though daring him to lash out.
"You know exactly what it is! Quit playing dumb!" Xue Tuzi barked, his voice rising as he glared at Shudu, his eyes like burning coals. His chest heaved with frustration, but beneath the anger was a faint blush that betrayed him.
"Actually, I don't," Shudu replied with infuriating calm, his tone casual but laced with amusement. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his sharp eyes softening as they lingered on Xue Tuzi. "I can't read, so how would I know what it says? But judging by your attitude…" He paused, letting the silence hang heavy between them before continuing with a wicked grin, "I can make a guess."
"Ugh!" Xue Tuzi growled, snatching the brush off the table with a swift motion. His hand moved deftly, scrawling the word "idiot" across Shudu's forehead in bold, dripping strokes. The ink was thick, smudging slightly as it soaked into Shudu's skin, the faint scent of fresh ink lingered in the air. Shudu blinked, his expression briefly stunned before he grabbed another brush, dipping it deliberately into the black ink. Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and scribbled in bold characters what he had spent all afternoon practicing "whore rabbit" on Xue Tuzi's neck.
The ink seeped down from Xue Tuzi's neck, staining the pristine white of his robe like black veins spreading outward. Xue Tuzi's face darkened with fury as he dunked his brush back into the ink, this time with reckless abandon. His strokes were wild and erratic as he scrawled "bastard," "insect," and "disgusting bug" across Shudu's sharp, smug face, leaving no space untouched.
Shudu, who only knew how to write his own name, retaliated in the only way he could. With a playful grin, he wrote "Shudu" across Xue Tuzi's chest, the characters uneven but bold. He followed it up by drawing an exaggerated mustache on Xue Tuzi's round lips, the ink smearing slightly as he worked. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Shudu burst into laughter, the sound deep and unapologetically amused.
Xue Tuzi hesitated, his gaze flickering to the mirror nearby. The reflection of himself, covered in ink and absurd scribbles, was enough to snap the last thread of his patience. He lunged at Shudu, the chair tipping back under their combined weight. The two toppled to the floor, Xue Tuzi straddling Shudu, his face red with a mix of rage and humiliation.
Pinned to the ground, Shudu's smirk widened into something wolfish, his sharp teeth catching the light. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he whispered, "If you wanted this, you could have just asked." His hands slid down Xue Tuzi's sides with a deliberate slowness, brushing over his thighs before curling around his behind in a firm grip.
"You pervert!" Xue Tuzi snapped, his voice sharp and trembling with anger. He shoved himself out of Shudu's grasp, scrambling to his feet and snatching up a rag. Furiously, he began scrubbing at his face, the ink smudging further rather than coming off cleanly. Without another word, he stormed toward the door.
Shudu rolled onto his side, watching him go with a lazy grin. "Where are you going?" he called out, his voice light and teasing as he pushed himself up to follow.
"To wash," Xue Tuzi spat over his shoulder, his glare sharp enough to cut. "Do. Not. Follow me."
But Shudu, of course, did not listen. He trailed after Xue Tuzi like a shadow, his footsteps deliberately light, the smug grin still plastered across his face.
Annoyed beyond measure, Xue Tuzi called out, "Xiao Jiao!" The little Gu worm popped its ink-covered head out from beneath Xue Tuzi's robe, blinking blearily before spitting threads of silk in Shudu's direction. Shudu dodged each attack with ease, his movements fluid and almost playful as he drew closer.
"Is that all you've got?" Shudu taunted, his tone dripping with amusement. But his victory was short-lived, as a certain spider suddenly dropped from the ceiling. Xiao Zongzi clung to his face, wrapping an intricate web of silk tightly around his head.
With his vision completely obscured, Shudu stumbled blindly, his hands clawing at the thick webbing. "Do I have any loyal subjects?" he grumbled, his voice muffled as he staggered forward, only to collide headfirst with a wall.
Xue Tuzi let out a soft sigh of relief, slipping into the bathhouse unnoticed dropping his robes to his feet. "Thank you, Xiao Zongzi," he murmured, glancing up at the spider as she dangled lazily from the roof. Her sharp eyes caught sight of the deep whip marks crisscrossing his pale back, the scars stark against his skin. She hesitated, her silk still clinging to Shudu, but before she could react, Xue Tuzi sank into the steaming water, hiding his body beneath the surface.
The water rippled as Xue Tuzi gently cleaned the ink from his face, his hand lingering over the tiny mole at the corner of his lip. His fingers brushed over it as if trying to erase it too, though it refused to fade, stubbornly remaining in place. His gaze softened as he turned his attention to Jiao Jiao, who sat pitifully on the edge of the tub, still dripping with ink. Xue Tuzi carefully cleaned the little Gu worm, his movements gentle and precise, his frustration temporarily forgotten.
By the time Shudu finally freed himself from the cocoon of silk, Xue Tuzi was long gone. Shudu stood in the doorway, his face dark with irritation and his hair disheveled. He looked down at the ruined remnants of the cobweb clinging to his hands and sighed deeply, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.