Xue Ling had not treaded on him for long when she suddenly remembered something.
Begrudgingly, she removed her foot, stepped beside him barefoot, and bent down, her voice gentle and breathy. “Xiaobai will wait here for me. I have to go out for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for his response, and not even bothering to tidy his disarrayed clothes, she slipped off the bed and ran outside in her cloth shoes.
The youth lying on the ground panted slightly, his handsome face flushed in a beguiling shade. A long time passed before he lowered his eyelids and sought to remove the cloth blinding his eyes.
It was bound too tightly; it was a dead knot.
Just as she had said, his hands and feet had been injured when he fell from the carriage, and he had used all his strength simply to crawl into this derelict house.
Over the course of the night, his injuries had shown no signs of easing; instead, even raising his arm brought acute pain. He now desired to undo the cloth covering his eyes, but he couldn’t summon a modicum of strength.
While he struggled with the fabric, a soft sound came from the doorway.
“Do you intend to run away?”
Gu Xingzhi stilled his hand, turned his head toward the doorway, and said, “It’s too tight. I’m uncomfortable.”
“Is that so?” Xue Ling caught sight of him fumbling with the white cloth tied around the back of his head as she stood at the doorway retrieving something.
She had known for a while that he wouldn’t be so obedient as to lie still.
Holding the bowl of soup she had labored over all night, Xue Ling approached him and sat down by his side.
Though he couldn’t see, Gu Xingzhi caught the bitter scent. Facing her with half his face obscured by the white cloth, he asked, “What is it?”
Xue Ling handed it to him. “Your injuries are severe, and you were frightened and chilled last night. I brewed some medicine for you; drink it quickly so you can recover.”
Gu Xingzhi faltered, then said, “It’s unnecessary.”
Unwilling to accept a refusal, Xue Ling gripped his chin firmly, her gaze resolute. “You will drink it, or I will feed it to you. Either way, you must finish this bowl. I don’t want you ending up with a critical illness on top of your injuries. I can’t afford to treat you; you’d be thrown by the roadside to fend for yourself.”
Whether she was coaxing him or threatening him, he had to drink the medicine today.
After a moment of silence, weighing his options, Gu Xingzhi reached out. “Give it to me.”
Xue Ling ignored his hand. Her gaze drifted to his index finger; the pale, cold-white joints looked as if they had been carved from jade bamboo, long and distinct.
She could tell at a glance that these were the hands of someone born into wealth—so different from her own hands, roughened by heavy labor.
Suddenly, Xue Ling wanted to find out what hands typically held gold and silver treasures or held silk brushes tasted like.
Instead of passing him the medicinal soup, she hovered close to him, her lips slightly parted, filled with curiosity.
Gu Xingzhi saw nothing; he was unaware that the woman’s face had replaced the bowl of medicine.
His index finger brushed against something warm and moist.
He froze, realizing what was touching him. He tried to withdraw his hand, but she suddenly sucked on it. Her soft, pointed teeth snagged his finger joint; her tongue swirled against the thin callus of his fingertip.
The pressure wasn’t great, but her sharp teeth sank into the flesh of his knuckle like some small, predatory beast.
It was painful, and yet, as she gnawed and sucked, he experienced a strange sensation—as if the vernal flood of a city moat had suddenly, without warning, surged violently against the high walls, leaving behind a humid trail.
The unexpected warmth and softness left him dazed; he momentarily forgot to pull his hand away.
*There’s no difference,* Xue Ling thought, nursing his finger. She let out a tiny sigh of disappointment.
*I really was born for a hard life; I can’t even taste wealth.*
Swiftly losing interest, she released his finger.
To her surprise, he did not pull away. Xue Ling glanced up and saw that the skin beneath the white cloth had turned a deep flush. The youth sat leaning against the ancient wooden bed, his lips parted, breathing faintly, seemingly lost in a trance.
A few moments passed before Gu Xingzhi came to his senses. He slowly withdrew his finger, curling it into a fist. The moisture from her saliva had left a glistening web between his lip and finger.
Xue Ling picked up the bowl of medicine from the small stool and held it out to him. “You reached for the wrong thing. This is the bowl.”
Gu Xingzhi’s finger trembled as it touched the cold porcelain. He took the bowl as usual and raised it to his lips, drinking the dose.
Seeing him obey, a spark of joy lit up Xue Ling’s eyes. She threw herself into his arms, clinging to him. “You’re so good! Just like my Xiaobai; whenever I give him food, he eats it all up and even licks the bowl. You drank it as clean as he does!”
Gu Xingzhi’s brows furrowed. A swirl of gloom clouded his handsome, cold features, but he remained silent.
Xue Ling didn’t need an answer. She clung to him intimately for a long time before suddenly remembering something.
Letting go of him, she reached up and touched the white cloth over his eyes. “Xiaobai, you know you can’t take this off, right?”
He remained silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. Then he let out a cold, curt “Mm.” She couldn’t tell if he was merely humoring her or had actually taken her warning to heart.
Assuming he had heard her, Xue Ling murmured softly, “If you’re not good and you see my face, I’ll not only abandon you, I’ll kill you. You can tell, can’t you? I’ve done things… I’m capable of anything.”
In reality, she had lied; she wasn't a killer, but she could certainly abandon him.
Given his status as the Heir of the Marquis of Beiding, he was a nobleman far beyond her reach. Had he not happened to fall into her courtyard, she might have gone her entire life without ever crossing paths with him.
If he saw her face, she might have to cast away the Bencheng she loved to save her own life. She hoped this threat would scare him into obedience.
The youth said coldly, “Mm.”
Xue Ling smiled. She rubbed against him once more before reluctantly getting up to leave.
As she closed the door, she glanced back at Gu Xingzhi on the bed.
Except for the light flush on his cheeks, his skin was a deathly, bloodless white. Thin sunlight fell across his exposed collarbone, highlighting the veins that throbbed beneath the skin of his wrist.
A pearl that has fallen into the mud and become coated in grime is still a pearl; it ever so easily returns to its original brilliance once the dust is wiped away.
Standing there, Xue Ling felt a surge of overwhelming guilt. He was so vivid and bright—and she felt vile in comparison.
But what could she do?
She shut the door and locked it.
***
Now she had to visit Doctor Li. Her dog was missing, and he would be worried; moreover, she wanted to hear any news or rumors from the streets.
Doctor Li lived in the center of Bencheng, where he ran a small medical clinic. His business was only enough to keep them fed, so his ten-year-old son, Ashan, served as his apprentice.
When she arrived, Ashan was standing on a stool, fruitlessly dusting the back of a medicine cabinet. Seeing her, he slipped, tumbled off the stool, and crashed right into her.
She caught him, steadying him. “Be careful.”
Recognizing her, Ashan beamed and hugged her neck tightly, burying his face against her. “Sister Xue, you’re here! You smell so good.”
The fragrance had come from Gu Xingzhi; she had not changed her clothes since her time with him.
Walking into the inner room, Xue Ling ignored the boy and called out, “Where is your father?”
Ashan rubbed his nose and replied, “The dog Sister Xue gave us yesterday ran off. Daddy and Big Brother went to look for it.”
“It’s gone,” Xue Ling said, her tone neutral. “Tell your father when he returns not to bother looking for Xiaobai.”
“Gone?” Ashan’s eyes widened of alarm. “Did it die?”
Xue Ling nodded. “Yes.”
Ashan’s face contorted with grief. “But Xiaobai is the last thing Sister Xue’s mother left her—how could it just die? It’s a tragedy.”
Xue Ling gave a bitter little smile.
Her mother had abandoned her and emigrated to another country—she hadn’t died. Xiaobai was not an heirloom but another abandoned thing that Doctor Li had tracked down for her. The “relic” story was merely a kind lie told to make her less lonely.
Patting Ashan’s head, she said, “Thanks, Ashan. Word your father that I’m leaving. I’ll be back later.”
Off Annette’s back, the boy nodded, then whispered conspiratorially in her ear, “Sister Xue, listen… Chu’s teacher is back.”
The “teacher” was the instructor at the South Street Academy, a man surnamed Liu, referred to as Liu Changnong.
Before this encounter with Gu Xingzhi, the teacher had been the handsomest man Xue Ling had ever seen. Whenever she came to town, she would linger near the school, catching glimpses of him. After a while, their paths crossed more often, and the townsfolk began to gossip that she was smitten with him.
Xue Ling never denied it. She did like Master Liu, but she was realistic about her station.
Leaving the pharmacy, she headed toward the tea house. She sat on the stone steps, keeping one ear toward the surrounding chatter for news, while the other eye was fixed on the stream of people passing by.
Around her, it was loud and teeming, but she sat apart, an isolated figure with her cold, distant gaze, looking out of place. Even so, Liu Changnong always noticed her.
Today, she wasn’t by the riverbank across from the school; she was here instead.
Liu Changnong, who had just overheard the mention of her lost dog from Doctor Li, wondered if she was in depression, which explained the change of venue.
Noticing her watching one of the chestnut sellers, Liu Changnong bought a packet of the warm, roasted nuts, intending to give them to her. But as he stepped forward, he saw her rise and approach Doctor Li, who had just returned.
She stood with her back to him, her face half-masked by her thick bangs, voice barely audible.
Unable to hear the exchange, he waited. Eventually, Doctor Li left, and Xue Ling returned to her spot on the steps. She purchased a paper cone of chestnuts from the vendor, then stood and departed in the direction of the outskirts.
Liu Changnong looked wistfully at the packet of chestnuts in his hand, feeling a strange sense of longing and loss. He turned and walked away, his heart heavy.
***
Carrying the warm chestnuts, Xue Ling hurried home, aware that Gu Xingzhi wouldn’t be content to sit in silence forever.
True to her intuition, when she unlocked the door, she found the youth no longer in bed.
He lay sprawled in the courtyard, hair disarrayed, white robes soiled. His blindfold had been torn off; it now fluttered aimlessly in the wind.
For someone so injured, he possessed an uncommon amount of strength. Even amidst his pain and weakness, he had managed to find his way from the house to the garden.
Xue Ling set her chestnuts down, crossed the courtyard, and knelt beside him. She stared at his pale face, noting the long lashes that fluttered before his eyes ceased their aimless searching.
He blinked, eyes dazed and unfocused. He drew a shaky breath, grunted a few times, and then focused on her.
“You’re awake,” she said calmly.
Gu Xingzhi’s lips form a small, wry smile,though his expression remained cast in darkness. “You knew I was hurt, yet you gave me that drug… and blinded me.”
There was no warmth in his voice, only a sense of profound vulnerability.
Pulling him into her arms, Xue Ling leaned in close, her scent mingling with his. “I didn’t,” she told him softly. “Your injuries were so bad—I was afraid of the pain, so I used the Mafeisan I had saved, to keep you unconscious.”
Mafeisan was prohibitively expensive. She had hidden it away for a lifetime and had used it all on him in one night.
She didn’t mention the eye salve she had applied to him; that part was her own fault for wanting him apparently blind.
Leaning her head against his shoulder, Xue Ling took a deep breath and smiled. He still smelled the same, still possessed that heady, intoxicating fragrance. She pressed her lips to his neck and inhaled deeply, her heart racing.
Gu Xingzhi stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“I’m smelling you,” she whispered against his skin. “It’s comforting me.”
“Are you…” He hesitated, unable to finish the thought. “Am I that valuable?”
“You’re very valuable,” Xue Ling countered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “In fact, to me, you're the most valuable thing in the world.”
Gu Xingzhi went rigid. “If that is the case…”
“It is. So please,” she interrupted, “stay here with me. Don’t leave.”
Gu Xingzhi stared at her, his torch-like eyes scanning her features for an answer. The expression on his face seemed to soften, just a little. He exhaled in a long, slow sigh.
“I’ll stay,” he said at last. “Until I heal.”
Xue Ling smiled and pressed her face against his shoulder, holding him. Her eyes sparkled with delight and satisfaction. The fierce protectiveness that had’ been clawing at her since she first saw him finally subsided.
She had done it. She had kept him.
Xue Ling momentarily forgot what she wanted to say, burying her entire face against him.
Gu Xingzhi raised his hand, intending to push away the woman treating him so intemperately, but his hand quickly fell back down.
The Mafeisan had not yet left his system, and with nothing but darkness before his eyes, his expression darkened, a cold flash of murderous intent rippling through his pupils.
Unaware, Xue Ling's cheeks flushed crimson. She basked in the scent of him, remembrance returning to her;бив slightly against him, she began to coax him in a soft, chaotic voice, "Your blindness is likely because you are injured at the back of your head. There is a herb in the medicinal soup I gave you that dispels stasis and blood clots. In a few days, your sight will return."
He had consumed so many of her valuable possessions already, she ever so closely calculated.
Suddenly tilting her head up, her peach-pink lashes glistening with moisture, she stared at him expectantly. "You have to pay me back for all of this later," she whispered, her voice heavy with gravity.
Gu Xingzhi sat rigid, his dark eyes fixed in her direction. He seemed detached from the ramshackle courtyard surrounding them, a figure of frozen elegance isolated from the world.
Xue Ling was envious. He was so unfazed, so composed in the face of adversity. Had she been in his place—maimed, reduced to a plaything of the rich—she would have been wailing in grief. The vast gulf of their previous lives had forged an unbreakable difference in their mentalities.
"Do you hear me?" She cupped his face, deliberately allowing the dust and grime on her hands to soil his pale skin. "You have to pay me back!"
Gu Xingzhi frowned and turned his head, but there was no escaping the dirt now smudging his cheek. He yielded. "How would you have me pay you back?"
Knowing she had marred his perfect features brought a streak of satisfaction to her; she felt a little better. Releasing his face, she hugged him again, leaning in to murmur against his ear, "You don't have to pay me anything. Just be good and stay with me for a while. I'll find another dog exactly like Xiaobai, I promise."
Gu Xingzhi's lips pressed thin. The woman's warm, humid breath tickled his ear; he said nothing, only a stony silence followed.
Ignoring his tacit rejection, Xue Ling clung to him more tightly. She inhaled his scent greedily, her chest heaving against his.
When she finally released him, she felt flushed and unsteady, a strange fire burning up through her cheeks.
After releasing his face, she hugged him again and whispered softly beside his ear, “You don’t have to repay me. Just behave and keep me company for a while. I’ll soon find a dog exactly like Xiaobai.”
It must have been even worse last night, Gu Xingzhi thought, listening to her ragged breathing. Yet she had somehow managed to drag him inside back then.
They reached the wooden bed.
Seeing how tall he was, Xue Ling realized he could barely fit. His long legs were forced to bend at an awkward angle. Her gaze drifted up to his throat, and a thought struck her.
"Xiaobai, wait a moment." She scurried out of the room, her long black braid whipping behind her.
Gu Xingzhi remained seated, his back against the wall, his face undisturbed. As she returned, he caught a faint clicking sound.
"What do you have there?" he inquired, his brows knitting.
Xue Ling reappeared, holding a heavy iron chain. "Xiaobai tried to run away, so I had the blacksmith make this. I guess he won't be needing it."
She approached him, her expression earnest. "But now I can use it for you."
With gentle movements, she smoothed his hair and leaned in to kiss the white bandage covering his eyes. "You're going to need to get used to your new home, so you'll have to wear this for a little while. If you're good, I'll take it off."
Gu Xingzhi felt her hands move to his neck. Instinctively, he tried to grasp her wrists to stop her, but his strength had not yet returned. The cold, rough metal slid around his throat and snapped shut with a harsh click.
He stiffened, the iron collar pressing against his Adam's apple. His gaze cooled, and the serene aura around him solidified into frost. "Take it off," he commanded.
Startled by his tone, Xue Ling tugged at the end of the chain. Because he was so much larger and weighed her down, she lost her balance, pitching forward abruptly.
“Xiaobai, wait for me.” Xue Ling turned and ran outside, her dark braid, slung diagonally across her chest, whipping behind her as she hurried.
Are you trying to intimidate me?—Xue Ling wondered, flushing with indignation.
As she struggled, she managed to loop the other end of the chain around the bedpost. "If you don't learn to be compliant, you won't get your lunch."
Gu Xingzhi seemed utterly unbothered by her threat.
Biting her lip, Xue Ling crawled up onto the bed. She sat before him, cupping his face and frowning. "You aren't as good as Xiaobai. He never did this; he knew when to behave. He knew I wanted him with me."
"Maybe you should just find another dog," Gu Xingzhi said indifferently.
"No," Xue Ling disagreed. "You're too beautiful, and you're from a noble family. Besides, you're the one who killed Xiaobai."
Gu Xingzhi fell silent.
Xue Ling wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling her face into his chest. "You promised. Be good to me," she pleaded, "and I won't hurt you."
His scent made her drowsy, her senses hazy. Reaching up, she twisted her long braid loose; it spilled across his lap, the withered brown ends contrasting sharply against his snow-white silk robes. Her hands wandered, seeking purchase on his muscled frame.
She felt herself growing bolder, her breathing quickening as she leaned into him.
Gu Xingzhi remained listless, lying back against the pillows, seemingly unbothered.
It was his reaction—or lack thereof—that emboldened her. Xue Ling began to unfasten his outer robes. There was nothing hidden underneath; he had lost his underclothes during his flight. She gingerly slid the robe from his shoulders, exposing his chest.
She had expected scarring, but there was none. Instead, the skin was pale and flawless, though his muscles were taut with tension. Careful not to press too hard, she used a small rag to clean the blood from near his collarbone.
Gu Xingzhi’s breathing unevenly changed. Sensing her proximity, he braced himself.
As Xue Ling worked, her fingers brushed the firm skin of his shoulder. She noticed a slight parting of his lips. Was he feeling it too? Perhaps the Mafeisan had side effects.
"I'll help you change," she whispered, "because your clothes are too dirty."
She brought over the rough brown tunic from the bedside chest and held it out. "You won't be able to put this on yourself."
Gu Xingzhi reached out blindly for it. "I can do it."
"Don't be stubborn." She gathered the tunic between her fingers. "It's uncomfortable when it's dirty."
The tunic slid down over his head; he did not resist.
His eyes, though blindfolded, focused on her as she hesitated. The air in the room was thick, and she felt an unbearable tension, a buzzing electricity radiating between them.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked.
Trembling slightly, she reached for his waist ribbon.
As she loosened the fabric, the outline of his body became more distinct. She felt her own anxiety grow; she was acutely aware of how frail she was in comparison to the man sitting before her.
Removing his trousers took several cautious moments. Gu Xingzhi displayed none of the unmanned emotion a soldier might feel when handled like a child. He simply sat there, accepting her ministrations with his customary stoicism.
Now, the only thing between them was the bed.
Xue Ling shivered, a volatile mix of anticipation and nervousness or Flushing red, she hurriedly changed into her own clean clothes, ignoring the confusion and suspicion—and perhaps a trace of shifting interest—that crossed Gu Xingzhi's features.
Once she realized he wouldn't chase her, she climbed back onto the bed to arrange his pillows. She fastened the shirt he wore and tucked the coarse hem of the trousers around his ankles.
The room was silent save for their breathing.
"I caught you," Xue Ling said softly, a sly, triumphant smile playing on her lips. "What are you going to do now?"
Gu Xingzhi seemed to smile—almost invisibly. "I'll do as I'm told."
Xue Ling laughed. It was a rare, joyful sound, her hair shifting as she shook with glee. "I'll go get you something to eat."
Rising from the bed, she paused, turning back to look at him. He was tense, his arms folded across his chest, the iron chain between him and the bedpost taut.
As though she had suddenly found a way to improve their relationship, Xue Ling lowered her head and stroked his ghastly pale, slender ankle. Her earnest voice carried a hint of pity. “Xiaobai, your leg is broken. It looks very serious. I'll set it and put a splint on it, or you might end up lame.”
His thin, pale lips curved. "You're very kind."
Passing the doorway to the kitchen, she noticed a faint glimmer of grass peeking through the fence boards. The yard was a little more alive than yesterday.
Going into the kitchen, she prepared a simple porridge of rice and vegetables. The stream of bubbling porridge warmed the cold air of the small shack as she brought the bowl back to the bed.
Sitting before Gu Xingzhi, she held out the ceramic bowl. "Eat."
He took it calmly, taking a small sip.
"Well?" Xue Ling asked leisurely.
"Acceptable." He put the bowl back down and nodded. "Now tell me about Xiaobai."
The joyous expression on her face instantly vanished. "You… you still bother with that?"
Gu Xingzhi raised an eyebrow. "I asked for an explanation. I have yet to hear you say a word about it."
"He just had to be out all the time," Xue Ling said, her voice trembling. "I didn't set even a dozen traps, but he always found a way out. Then I started thinking he was doing it to get away from me…" Her eyes clouded over, turning even redder than usual. Finally she spoke in a low, desperate voice, "So I cut the bottom out of the fence and dug a ditch. I covered the ditch with vines…"
"And he fell in." Gu Xingzhi completed it for her. "Thus he died."
"So long," Xue Ling muttered, her auras sinking again.
"How futile it sounds," Gu Xingzhi said, "to perish in a puddle of mud."
Snapping her head up, Xue Ling glared at him. "You're the thing that’s futile! Throwing yourself away to be a beggar’s pet—when I’m the one who saved your life!" She scrambled from the bed to her feet, her face contorted with anger.
"Everything goes wrong because of you. You came along and everything started falling apart."
Gu Xingzhi sighed, a slow, weary exhale that contained a hint of sarcasm. "Is that so?"
As she glowered at him, her small hands balled up into fists, Gu Xingzhi realized something.
The woman seemed to be dealing with a thunderstorm of emotions, yet she never let them touch him directly. There were only the echoes of them—a storm raging elsewhere, invisible to him.
He wondered about the life she had lived. What was it like to have this little girl burdened with the protector role, taking everything responsibility upon herself?
"I'm going fishing this afternoon," Xue Ling said. "You can't come; you're too limping. I'll bring back some fish."
"I'm going to go to the temple," Gu Xingzhi said.
A pair of cautious gray eyes glared at him. "How?"
Xue Ling pondered this, remembering that Xiaobai would go into heat in spring. Although he was not a real dog like Xiaobai, what if he could do the same?
Cruelly, Xue Ling pointed at her fresh bandages. "You’ve got Mafeisan in you. Unless you want to trip on something and crush your chest, you’ll stay here and do nothing."
Gu Xingzhi laughed. "You save a life, I leave my life in your hands. It’s a dangerous world."
"You comme from a higher world," she retorted ambitiously. "You don’t know about the dangers of here."
“Indeed.” Gu Xingzhi said. “But you don’t know anything about my world either.”
Xue Ling told him all she knew of his, carefully omitting the fact that she sensed it to be full of corruption and endless schemes.
"How are we going to live if we are unable to accept other people?" Gu Xingzhi asked. His voice was tinged with a remote, wary skepticism.
“You know, we’ll have to. We’ll die if we don’t." In fact, they had already learned many ugly ways to survive. "White."
Gu fontstyle:
“I need to finish this conversation.” Gu Xingzhi said. He held her staring gaze. “Well?”
“Sign here.” Xue Ling held out the scroll of paper. Opening it, Gu Xingzhi saw the plain Chinese script. I will never leave you or cheat on you, he discovered.
I’m bored, he discovered. Bored yet more.
First the guards, then these colorful characters, and now this—a little girl selling protective charms for one copper.
Halfway between laughter and dejection, Gu Xingzhi took the ink brush, placed the paper across his right knee, and wrote his name beneath the vague vows.
Returning the paper to her, he felt the brush’s weight still on his hand. The old slip of paper had a tangible sheen. That meant under normal circumstance someone’s life or karma depended on it—or so it was believed.
21. That’s never been the case for me, he reflected.
From the corner of her eye, he saw Xue Ling beginning to write.
Once done, she handed the scroll back to him; he read her pledge, but when he was finished, he told her she could keep it.
“‘I will go with you,” he read aloud. “To where you went before and wherever we are bound for.’ Interesting.” He felt himself be tossed into a light-hearted mood suddenly; the anger the woman showed seemed amusing to him.
At least his physical pain subsided; she had dressed him well, and the hole in the wall had already been plugged, the pots and pan put back into their usual spots.
Here the girl was a lodging and tenant manager.
52.
“It’s late.” Xue Ling said, watching him lay down. “Did you eat?”
“You didn’t give me any.”
“Then sleep until tomorrow.”
“Here it is,” she said, passing a crude partridge around. He gnawed it clean and climbed into bed. Yet, as she set the charcoal in the fire pit outside, he heard the high shrill sound emanating from her—that particular, jealous lauding.
Towards the fire-colored light, this Chinese doll broadcasted her alert attentiveness.
Above all, he loved her eyes. Huge and night-dark, they glowed with anxiety, deep mourning, vast cynicism, and yet… untamable heat.
It reminded him of his late wife, who, like a snow-pale fox, possessed a look that seemed constantly searching and lost.
She had the same calculating eyes. But what was concealed here was something different. He felt that inside the body of the child before him ran a spirit that might be centuries old.
Something about him guided her to mourn for him just as much as he did for himself. Some predestined bond. (Destined relationship.)
Beside the bed, Xue Ling sat tucked up like a small pig, her eyes fixed on Gu Xingzhi as he slept, his long lams basking in the firelight and waving, as if conducting music.