Wu Lingtian stood off to the side as he watched Fan Yi’s nimble hands pinch the dough together. Fan Yi glanced up with a smile as he placed the carefully wrapped wonton onto one of the nearby plates. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”
Wu Lingtian moved to roll his sleeves up, but Fan Yi stopped him. “You can, but I mean, aren’t you going to bathe? It was a long trip.”
“No need,” Wu Lingtian said. Bathing wasn’t necessary for cultivators at any rate. It was only the sensation of feeling clean that they sought after when they bathed. He shifted on his feet. “Sect Leader, I really am not hungry.”
“If you’re saying that because you don’t want me to cook for you, then I think it’s too late,” Fan Yi said. He glanced at Wu Lingtian again. “But if you feel guilty, you can help me.”
Wu Lingtian moved from his place and left to wash his hands. Once he returned, he already had his sleeves rolled up to help Fan Yi.
“Do you know how to wrap wontons?” Fan Yi asked, his head still bowed as he did so.
Wu Lingtian’s hung awkwardly at his side as he watched Fan Yi carefully place the ones he made onto the plate. “They are not as nice as yours.”
Fan Yi laughed. “Mine aren’t that nice. Here, take a few of these. Don’t put too much meat into it or it’ll burst while it’s cooking.”
Wu Lingtian nodded and glanced at Fan Yi’s hands as he attempted to mimic his actions. He awkwardly reached past Fan Yi and placed his wonton down and lowered his head to make the next one. A muffled “pft” entered his ears. Shortly after, he felt his face warm up as a sense of embarrassment overtook him.
“It looks nice,” Fan Yi said, as if the person who had just laughed was not him.
“…You do not have to lie.”
“I’m not lying! It looks much better than the first ones I made,” Fan Yi said.
Wu Lingtian glanced at the wontons that Fan Yi have wrapped and then at his dexterous hands. “When did you learn to make wontons?”
“When?” Fan Yi echoed the question. The smile on his face grew a little less vibrant. “When I was…eight? I think that was when my mother taught me.”
“Oh.”
Fan Yi glanced at Wu Lingtian and chuckled. “Just ‘oh’? Nothing else?”
“…She must have been a good cook,” Wu Lingtian said, reaching past Fan Yi to place a wonton on the plate.
“She actually wasn’t,” Fan Yi said. “My father was a good cook. My mother only knew how to wrap the wontons well. She was the daughter of a prominent sect leader back in the day. She was the type of girl whose fingers never even touched water.”
He smiled to himself. “It wasn’t until she met my father did she learn to do a little bit by herself. Even then, my father spoiled her to no ends.”
Fan Yi wrapped the last wonton and took the plate over to the pot. Wu Lingtian looked over Fan Yi’s shoulder as he carefully pushed them into the pot of water. “When I was younger, I always teased my father for treating my mother like she couldn’t do anything for herself. I had seen how other sect leaders treated their wives and even when they were in love, it was never to that extent. When I got a little older, I asked him why he did everything for her. Do you know what he said?”
Wu Lingtian shook his head under Fan Yi’s scrutiny.
Fan Yi brushed his hands together to get the flour off his hands. “He said ‘Well, first off, I like taking care of people’,” Fan Yi chuckled. “But he also said that…I wouldn’t understand until I actually fell in love with someone.”
Wu Lingtian’s brows furrowed. “Was that all?”
Fan Yi grinned. “He did continue. He said when you really love someone, you don’t want to see them having a hard time. You’ll want to make sure they never suffer a day in their lives after you met them. You’ll want to protect them, to comfort them, to know why they feel upset and how you can help them. Even if you don’t get anything in return—even if they don’t love you—you’ll still want what is the best for them.”
Fan Yi clicked his tongue. “That old man was such a romantic.”
“Do you believe in his words?”
The question slipped out of Wu Lingtian’s mouth before he could analyze them. Fan Yi met Wu Lingtian’s gaze. The smile on his face softened and the mischievous glint in his eyes retreated. “I think the feeling is there. If you love someone, naturally you would not want any harm to come unto them. It’s like that with any kind of love—romantic or platonic. As for whether someone will be able to do it is another issue.”
Fan Yi let out a long hum. “If I were in love with someone, I don’t know if I could be like my father! He was far too devoted. But I…I would do about twenty percent of what he did.”
He looked at Wu Lingtian seriously. “That’s still a lot.”
“Taking care of someone to that extent would be difficult,” Wu Lingtian agreed.
“Exactly,” Fan Yi headed back over to the stove. “So, if I ever fell in love with someone, I would just protect them from…anything. From danger and from pain. Maybe even from themselves.”
Wu Lingtian pinched his own thigh. The fog in his mind slowly dispersed. “Whoever gets to be Sect Leader’s cultivation partner will live a fortunate life.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“We can take care of ourselves,” Wu Lingtian said.
Fan Yi doubted Wu Lingtian knew how unconvincing he sounded in that moment. “I know. But I still love all of you. So, I still want to protect and take care of you all.”
Wu Lingtian looked at Fan Yi’s back and let out a soft hum.
“Go wash your hands again,” Fan Yi said over his shoulder. “I’ll bring it out once it’s done.”
“…Mn.”
Wu Lingtian washed his hands a took a seat at the table in the courtyard of the kitchen. He glanced into the kitchen as his mind wandered. The sweetness still lingered in his mouth, though the candy had melted a long time ago. The trembling in his fingers had gradually subsided and the anxiety that ate at his chest silenced along with the appearance of the delicious smell of wontons.
Moments later, Fan Yi came out with a bowl of wontons and a spoon. He set them down in front of Wu Lingtian and sat down beside him. “Eat up.”
Wu Lingtian picked up the spoon and then looked at Fan Yi. “Sect Leader, you are not going to eat?”
Fan Yi shook his head, his arms resting against the table. “I made them for you. Hurry and eat them before they cool.”
Wu Lingtian tentatively took a bite and flinched back from the heat. He glanced at Fan Yi and ducked his head, continuing to eat at a slower pace. Fan Yi’s smile grew as he watched Wu Lingtian in silence.
“You were much cuter as a child,” Fan Yi’s voice interrupted Wu Lingtian mid bite. The man looked up at Fan Yi, who pursed his lips in amusement. “When you were young, you’d stuff your cheeks before you actually started swallowing. Sect Leader Wang and I were always afraid that you would choke.”
Wu Lingtian didn’t speak until after he finished eating. He lightly cleared his throat. “That was because the food was good.”
“Is the food not good now?” Fan Yi teased.
“…It is.”
Fan Yi chuckled. “It’s just because you’ve grown, hasn’t it?”
“…Mn,” Wu Lingtian lowered his head again, unable to look at Fan Yi as he ate.
Fan Yi looked and turned his head to the skies. “It was so quiet without you here the last few days.”
“I do not speak much to begin with,” Wu Lingtian said.
“Yes, but I also lost the clacking sound you make when you eat candy,” Fan Yi sighed. “It’s interesting how fast a person can grow accustomed to something—how easily something can become routine.”
Wu Lingtian quietly blew at the wonton. The steam curled up before his eyes and obscured his vision. He listened to Fan Yi’s sentiment and glanced at Fan Yi briefly before deciding to concentrate on his eating.
The two men sat like they had many summers ago—one eating the other’s cooking, and the other poetically mumbling about life’s vicissitudes. The similarity startled Wu Lingtian. He paused again and sneakily looked up at Fan Yi.
In the last several hundred years, Fan Yi hadn’t changed in his appearance at all. He had already cultivated to the point where his appearance was practically unchanging. His skin was still soft, slightly tanned, and free from wrinkles. His hair remained the same silky black, only carelessly pinned back by a simple white jade hairpin so that it wouldn’t fall into his face. It fell past his shoulders like an inky waterfall. Even his sense of style hadn’t changed—it was still black and silver. Perhaps the only thing that changed was Fan Yi’s attitude towards Wu Lingtian.
In that time, Fan Yi had treated Wu Lingtian as a child, but now Fan Yi treated Wu Lingtian as a junior.
Upon catching Wu Lingtian’s gaze, Fan Yi smirked, “Am I handsome?”
“No.”
Fan Yi guffawed and leaned back. “You didn’t have to react so seriously.”
Wu Lingtian ignored Fan Yi and drank the rest of the broth. He set the bowl down. “Thank you, Sect Leader.”
“Mn,” Fan Yi took the bowl and the spoon and stood up. He looked over his shoulder at Wu Lingtian, who followed him back into the kitchen. “Do you feel better?”
“Huh?”
“Is your stomach warmed?” Fan Yi asked, placing the dirty bowl into the basin.
Wu Lingtian watched Fan Yi roll his sleeves back down. The scar that ran up his forearm disappearing once more. “Yes. Thank you, Sect Leader.”
Fan Yi let out a long sigh as he fixed his sleeves. “Good, good. Then, that means you’re well enough to work.”
“To work?” Wu Lingtian looked at Fan Yi quizzically.
“One week,” Fan Yi held his finger up. The smile on his face brightened, but the trepidation Wu Lingtian felt deepened. “Help me make the disciples presentable to the righteous sects.”
A week can flash by as quickly as the blink of an eye.
The summer heat slowly blended into a warm fall. The wind still stung the face, but the sound of cicadas had slowly ceased. The disciples were less reluctant to wear their robes properly. While the weather was warm in the Jiangshi region, winds were already chilly in Xianping region. The disciples of the unorthodox sects were urged to bring slightly warmer robes and, when they reached the assigned area, they were sure glad that they had.
“How can a place be so cold already? It’s unnatural,” Liang Jun murmured in discontent.
“Stop complaining. Just be glad that this year’s conference isn’t held in the Fengya region,” Su Han said over his shoulder.
“Su Han is right,” Ren Yizhou sighed as they fiddled with their sleeves. “Even during summer, the Fengya region is impeccably cold. I visited there once around this time of year—I still had to wear a thick jacket.”
“Your body is weak,” Tian Xiewen said. “You’re hardly anyone to listen to.” He turned his attention to Wu Lingtian. “What do you think?”
Wu Lingtian looked back at the members of the sect. His gaze drifted off to the side for a moment before he finally answered: “It is not too bad.”
Fan Yi chuckled at the answer. He turned with several room plaques in his hand. “Don’t listen to him. He’s the kind of person who is more used to the cold than the warmth. Fengya snows all year round because of the high concentration of demonic energy. Naturally, it will be much colder.”
Fan Yi began handing out the room keys to the disciples that had already been paired off. “Luckily, we don’t have to worry about them again for another ten years.”
Screeching Sparrow Sect was one of the first sects to arrive in the appointed city, thus had first choice at which inn and how many rooms they were going to take. In order to be courteous, Fan Yi had sorted the twenty disciples into groups of two and had given them each a room. Fan Yi, Ren Yizhou, Wu Lingtian, and Tian Xiewen paired off and shared rooms themselves. Fan Yi stepped to Tian Xiewen and handed him a room key before turning to Wu Lingtian’s side.
The few customers that were around at this time of night watched the group of imposing cultivators, dressed in deep navy blue and gold robes. They craned their necks to catch glimpses the disciples, hoping to find out which sect they belonged to.
“If you need anything, we will be on the top floor. Don’t wander around in the middle of the night. There is still three days before the conference, so take this time to relax, but don’t play too hard,” Fan Yi said.
The disciples, who were just excited to be in a new city, cheerfully agreed to Fan Yi’s terms. As it was nearing closing time for the inn, the disciples first went upstairs to their rooms. The three Pillars and Wu Lingtian trailed behind them, watching them find their rooms before heading up to their own floor.
“We’ll take this room,” Tian Xiewen said after poking his head around. He looked to Wu Lingtian and Fan Yi. “The other should be a little larger.”
Fan Yi nodded. He glanced between Ren Yizhou and Tian Xiewen. “You two…get along.”
“We always get along,” Tian Xiewen said, stepping into the room without waiting for Ren Yizhou.
If Ren Yizhou wasn’t blindfolded, Wu Lingtian felt that they would have rolled their eyes. The door closed behind the two people, leaving Wu Lingtian and Fan Yi in the hallway.
The pair stepped into their own room and Fan Yi turned to Wu Lingtian. “Are you going to be sleeping outside?”
Wu Lingtian looked around the spacious room as he pulled down his straw hat. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny. The room was extremely spacious and open, similar to his own room back at Drifting Clouds Mountain Sect. His eyes landed on the daybed that sat close to the terrace. He vaguely gestured towards it.
“I can sleep there.”
Fan Yi nodded. “Then, I will take the bed.”
“Mn.”
The two men went about their own business, unpacking and settling into their respective places. Only after they returned from bathing did Fan Yi spare a glance in Wu Lingtian’s direction.
“Your hair is still wet,” Fan Yi said. He looked at Wu Lingtian. “You should dry it.”
“It will dry on its own,” Wu Lingtian said, his eyes still concentrated on the book he was reading. Fan Yi frowned. Before he could say anything else, Wu Lingtian spoke again. “It is still summer. I will not get sick.”
“The wind here is cold.”
“I was raised in Fengya,” Wu Lingtian murmured absentmindedly. His fingers turned the page of the book. His heart was obviously not in the conversation, but the more concentrated he was, the more the mischief in Fan Yi’s heart began to stir.
He had never seen Wu Lingtian in such a relaxed state. When he was younger, the child would be bouncing off the walls. When he was older, the man had been guarded and strict. After he was kicked out of his sect, he was dazed and blurry-eyed. The Wu Lingtian now was different. His hair fell in slight waves about his face. He had clipped a part of it back to keep it from interfering with his movements. His chin rested gently against his knuckles. His brows were furrowed the slightest in concentration as his lovely dark eyes trailed down the page.
Fan Yi sat on the edge of the day bed and shifted closer. The smell of soap provided by the inn rushed forward. Wu Lingtian looked over to find Fan Yi right at his shoulder. They were not touching, but it was close enough where Wu Lingtian could feel Fan Yi’s warmth.
“What are you reading?” Fan Yi asked. He tilted his head to look up at Wu Lingtian, bringing them a little closer. “I’ve never seen you so concentrated before.”
Wu Lingtian resisted the urge to inhale sharply. He slowly leaned back and set the book down on his lap. “Short stories.”
“Short stories?” Fan Yi looked at the title with a smile. “Short stories about the cultivation world. Even you are interested in this type of thing?”
“It is a way to pass the time,” Wu Lingtian said.
He had started reading it ironically when a fellow disciple had given it to him as a birthday present but after reading it some more, he found that it was actually quite interesting. Although the contents were horrendously inaccurate, it was hard to say that the author didn’t have a flourishing imagination. If Wu Lingtian managed to ignore the names of people he knew, then the story become much more enjoyable.
“I saw one in the market earlier,” Fan Yi said, leaning back against the arm rest. “While you were browsing.”
Wu Lingtian carefully bookmarked where he left off. “Oh?”
“If you had walked a little further, you would have seen it,” Fan Yi said. “It was a yellow book.”
“Oh.”
“About us.”
“Sect Leader.”
“Yes?”
“We have to share a room for three weeks,” Wu Lingtian looked up, his gaze sharp. “Although I am currently indebted to you, I fear that if you continue to say such outrageous things, I will not be able to control myself.”
Fan Yi bit back his laughter. “Understood.”
Wu Lingtian was sure Fan Yi understood. But whether the man would act accordingly was a completely different question.
In the few weeks Wu Lingtian had spent with Fan Yi, he realized that the man still enjoyed trying to get a reaction out of him. It had been that way when Wu Lingtian was a volatile child, but now it was even worse now that he had become taciturn. The cold, serious look Fan Yi always wore in public was replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes and an innocent look on his face.
This was the real Fan Yi, Wu Lingtian thought. The Fan Yi that was rumored to have slaughtered hundreds for revenge was nothing more than a rumor. The real Fan Yi was someone who enjoyed teasing his juniors and disciples and was always eager for a reaction.
“Xiao Tian?” Fan Yi’s voice was practically dripping with sugar, sweeter than any candy that Wu Lingtian had ever had.
“Sect Leader,” Wu Lingtian responded coldly.
Fan Yi’s eyes flickered down Wu Lingtian’s face before returning to his eyes. The smile he had been holding back slowly spread out into the open. A chuckle escaped his throat. He looked away and licked his lips.
“Is it funny?”
“If it’s you, it’s always funny,” Fan Yi admitted shamelessly. He turned back to Wu Lingtian and silently observed his expression before he stood. “I’m sleeping then. Don’t blow out the candles when you sleep.”
Wu Lingtian paused for a second. He looked at Fan Yi’s retreating back and only mustered a soft hum.
He read a few more pages of his book. Just as he stood to blow out the candles, Fan Yi’s words echoed through his mind. He slowly sat back down and tucked himself into the blankets.
Wu Lingtian closed his eyes. He listened to the breathing of the man on the other side of the screen and began to count. By the time he reached twenty, his eyes could hardly open. By the time he reached thirty, he had already drifted off to sleep.
The flame of the candles flickered but continued to illuminate the room. While one slept peacefully, the other stared up at the ceiling. Even the calm breathing of another person and the bright room could not fight the lingering shadows away.
↳ 黄书 (Huáng shū) lit. “Yellow book” – a book of obscene publication…aka a p*rnagraphic book…
So Fan Yi was there for Wu Lingtian’s childhood but he didn’t say that when Zhou Ying’an asked how long he’d known him 🤔
oh i’m so curious about their past…. and also Fan Yi’s comment about the candle >-> hmmm….