From his exquisite, delicate face to his tall, lean figure, his ink-black hair, and his slender, bony hands and feet—he was the very picture of a beautiful young man. Yet his entire bearing was so gloomy and oppressive that it sent a chill down one's spine. He sat with his back turned on the steps, facing the curling gray smoke, and even so, watching him was a feast for the eyes.
Bujing Nu was flawless in every way.
Xia Ji was admiring his silhouette when the young man suddenly turned his head, revealing a pale profile. His dark pupils swept toward her as he patted his smoke-dusted fingertips, then padded over on his wooden clogs, carrying the scent of fire and ash with him.
He sat down before Xia Ji and, without warning, tugged at her hair. Xia Ji let out a yelp. Bujing Nu's gaze was indifferent. "Hangiang was staring at me again."
Xia Ji: …
"If you're going to talk, talk properly! Why do you keep pulling my hair?!"
Xia Ji was truly furious. If she weren't still relying on him for food and shelter, she would have yanked his hair right back.
"Pull your hair, and you won't die."
Bujing Nu sat to one side, his dark eyes fixed on the brazier still burning outside. The clothes had all burned away, leaving only wisps of smoke.
"Hangiang, am I good? Am I obedient?"
Here we go again.
Xia Ji simply walked up to him and patted his hair.
"Obedient. Bujing Nu is very obedient. Very capable."
The young man's gaze shifted from the burning brazier outside to Xia Ji's face. Being stared at so strangely again made Xia Ji feel uneasy, as if her heart were suspended mid-air.
Bujing Nu's eyes held no emotion at all.
Xia Ji withdrew her fingers and couldn't help asking, "Bujing Nu, what work do you usually do to make a living?"
"Nothing to do." He turned back to look at the smoke outside.
Bullshit.
He'd mentioned "the master" often enough before.
And the system had already told her—he was a Death Soldier.
Besides, with such a luxurious residence and Bujing Nu's complete indifference to money, the master he served must be someone of considerable standing.
"How old are you this year?" This was actually the question Xia Ji was most curious about.
"Sixteen, I think. If not, then fifteen." He couldn't quite count it himself. He looked at Xia Ji again, then touched her face.
"Hangiang, you're older than me."
How did he know she was older than him…
Xia Ji had transmigrated here with the same face and body—even the same small mole and faint scar matched perfectly. But this body seemed specially adapted to the era: no dark circles under the eyes, clearly going to bed early every night, and far better cared for than Xia Ji's original one.
It looked like the age of a young maiden.
Bujing Nu smiled faintly, his brows and eyes curving gently as he traced her eyelids and cheeks, murmuring softly, "I can tell just by touching."
The way he touched her now was extremely strange. Xia Ji couldn't quite describe the feeling—it was as if she had been laid open, like a clam shell pried fully apart, exposing the tender, fragile flesh within. He encircled her, his fingertips moving inch by inch.
He was reading her bones.
"Touching the face, reading the bones—I can tell everything," he said, stroking her back, then trailing down to her wrist and fingers, his voice soft and lilting. "Hangiang, you're about twenty years old, twenty-four or so. You've stayed at home most of your life, rarely going out. Your feet tire after walking a short while."
Xia Ji wasn't wearing shoes to begin with.
He touched the sole of her foot, then continued upward, suddenly pressing on her leg bone, startling Xia Ji.
It felt as though her entire body was under his control.
"Limbs weak, seldom moving about, not fond of socializing."
Strange.
Even though she had crossed through time and space.
Cold sweat began to prickle on Xia Ji's back.
—Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen through and read through her past life as well, that nothing was a secret.
This body carried exactly the same information as her original one.
His hand suddenly slipped beneath the hem of her clothes, cold against her soft belly.
"Mm!"
"You've never given birth either."
Xia Ji slapped his hand away at once. When she came to her senses, her face was burning—whether from fright or anger, she couldn't tell.
The young man, however, remained as he was, a light smile blooming on his beautiful face.
"How do you know so much? Are you an imperial physician?" Xia Ji couldn't help but speak with sarcasm.
"No, I've just touched a lot of dead people—"
The master always asked him to identify the dead.
"Shut up!"
Xia Ji hastily cut him off. She lay back on the beauty couch, on the verge of tears. No wonder it had felt so strange just now.
But Bujing Nu leaned in as well, pressing against her, his face against hers, laughter scattered lazily in his dark, phoenix-shaped eyes.
He did nothing else—just held her inexplicably like this all day.
"Hangiang, so soft and warm."
"Hangiang, you're much better than dead people. You're the best person there is."
Xia Ji: …
Psycho.
Absolutely insane.
The rain fell in an unbroken stretch. The rewards piled outside were only remembered by Bujing Nu two days later.
And only because Xia Ji had asked about them first.
It was really because Shanu occasionally opened and closed the front gate, and the pile of rewards outside was far too conspicuous.
Xia Ji had thought they were gifts from an enemy—something Bujing Nu deliberately left untouched to humiliate someone.
After asking Bujing Nu this, the young man lying beside her who had just finished eating seemed to realize something. Lately, he often pressed his face against hers, even when reading those obscure military texts. Bujing Nu sat up and smoothed his hair: "Oh, I forgot."
Only then did he have Shanu carry all the rewards into the room.
If only there were new clothes among them—even if they were meant for Bujing Nu, Xia Ji would force a smile and accept them.
The clothes she was wearing were truly uncomfortable.
Xia Ji had been enduring these past few days.
Though it was peaceful and quiet now, with no annoying boss or those clients who messaged her all day demanding updates, she also had no phone. Every day was dull and boring. Fortunately, her spirit had been severely depleted before, so she felt drowsy after every meal and slipped into a state of hibernation.
But eating the same food every day—either sweet or spicy—and wearing the same brocade pants and dirty clothes covered in dirt and blood, Xia Ji was miserable every day. Yet she couldn't wash the brocade pants either.
If she washed them, she truly would have nothing to wear.
But if she asked Bujing Nu, that inhuman madman would probably say, "Then don't wear them."
Xia Ji couldn't handle that.
Lately, she felt that Bujing Nu didn't seem like a beast who forcibly took women. He seemed utterly ignorant of matters between men and women—he just held her every day.
Now, with the rewards moved into the room, Bujing Nu hadn't moved yet, but Xia Ji got off the bed first.
"Bujing Nu, can I open them?"
"As you wish."
Bujing Nu wasn't interested. He sat on the couch, watching Xia Ji open the rewards with a hint of surprise in her eyes.
This struck him as novel.
He stared at her eyes, which held a trace of delight.
He had never seen Xia Ji like this.
He always felt she just lay around lazily, her skin soft and white, her body soft when held, her gaze languid, her face either angry or annoyed, occasionally trying to please him with a fake smile.
At this moment, Bujing Nu thought of something strange.
He had never really seen Xia Ji laugh.
—How does one make someone laugh?
Xia Ji had no idea what he was thinking. She eagerly opened a few boxes—inside were jade flutes, daggers, bead strings, and jewelry. They looked expensive.
But none of them could solve her immediate problem.
Xia Ji's soft, almond-shaped eyes lost their energy again. She listlessly returned to the couch and flopped down like a soft pancake.
Bujing Nu was still sitting on the couch. He turned his head to look at her: "Hangiang, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." Xia Ji was a bit irritated, let out a long sigh, and simply closed her eyes.
Better to sleep for a while.
Rest up first.
Once she regained her strength and ran away to live a normal life, it wouldn't be too late…
She had also asked the system—if the bound target wouldn't threaten her life if she left before the affection level reached a certain threshold, she could use Luck Value to switch bound targets.
She would run sooner or later, not stay with Bujing Nu, that inhuman lunatic.
She couldn't eat what she wanted, and she was full of resentment every day. But every day when she looked back, Bujing Nu ate with great relish. Facing the same dishes every day, doing nothing at all—he didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
Terrifying.
Even if she voiced her complaints, she'd probably just be seen as a weirdo. She'd felt this way often when she was working before. Sigh, go with the flow, keep the rice bowl… She'd endure a little longer!
Bujing Nu looked at her pale little face, confused.
He gave Xia Ji food every day and a place to live, yet she still seemed listless and gloomy under his care.
Actually, the ancients had plenty of pastimes, but the life of a Death Soldier was extremely closed off—especially for Bujing Nu, a Death Soldier at the emperor's side. It was even more sealed off. As long as he had food to eat and a place to sleep, that was enough. Falling asleep covered in blood was the norm.
He looked at Xia Ji's face for a long time.
At noon, inside the Jinling Military Patrol Office, Guan Fei had just finished a training session in the yamen and was drenched in sweat.
He was powerfully built, sitting in a chair with legs spread wide to rest. He had just taken a sip of water and hadn't even closed his eyes when a young soldier reported: "Commander! Someone's here to see you! Says he's your brother, brought lunch as a tribute!"
"Not seeing them."
Just when he was a bit tired, Guan Fei closed his eyes to rest. They had just been at war with another nation, and there were so many dead they had nowhere to move them. The Second Prince was also trying to stage a rebellion amid the chaos. Lately, anyone with any official position in every region was swamped with work. As Commander, Guan Fei handled the complex affairs of Jinling and had no time to rest at all.
Who knew which so-called brother had come with some shabby food and wine trying to curry favor.
Until the young soldier reluctantly came in, placed an object on the table, and silently prepared to withdraw.
On the table was a cloth stained with blood, with a single character written on it: Seven.
Guan Fei's gaze steadied. He stood up: "Where is this person?"
"Sir, he's waiting outside the yamen."
Guan Fei strode out. The young man was eight chi tall, his Han robes trailing to the ground, imposing and dignified. He walked all the way to the yamen entrance.
After several days of rain, today was a rare clear day. Guards stood on both sides of the government office, and the white-clad youth's attire was rather peculiar.
His ink-black hair hung loose, and he wore a white robe with a red sash. His figure was tall and slender, yet carried a faint, coiled energy waiting to be unleashed.
The moment he saw that figure, Guan Fei paused.
The entrance was too sunny.
Bujing Nu stood there and heard the footsteps. He raised his face, his features rendered deathly pale by the blinding sun, while his pupils were deep black—like a ghost standing in broad daylight.
He carried a food box, large enough that it looked thicker than his own waist. He raised his hand in greeting to Guan Fei.
"Elder brother."
Guan Fei: …
"You come."
"Mm."
Bujing Nu followed Guan Fei into the government office. Guan Fei found a tea room where they would not be disturbed, dismissed everyone, and only then knelt before Bujing Nu in salute.
"My lord, why do you show yourself in public?"
"No one knows my face."
That was true.
Guan Fei had only seen Bujing Nu once.
Both of them had come from the capital to Jinling, but Guan Fei had arrived earlier. When handing over tasks in the early years, Guan Fei had met him once—the impression was extremely deep. Even among the Death Soldiers, he stood out sharply.
Not just for his appearance, but because Bujing Nu was the smallest of all the Death Soldiers.
Years later, he never expected the Emperor to send this youth.
Now, Guan Fei understood why His Majesty valued this man so highly. He was a Death Soldier cultivated with great effort by the court. Guan Fei remained in Jinling precisely to relay communications to the capital for him.
In the past, he would only summon that crow of his, each time sending a blood letter.
Guan Fei had not seen him in a long time. Even after hearing that he had come to Jinling to serve under Prince Beikang, he had never once met him again.
"Rise. I have been in Jinling for nearly a month now, and I realized I had yet to meet with Commander Guan," Bujing Nu had already sat down, his white robes making him look all the more harmless. "Does Commander Guan still remember Bujing Nu?"
"Naturally, I remember."
The youth had grown taller, but his features remained the same as before. Back then, he looked like an androgynous girl; now, that delicate, beautiful face carried a hint of youthful masculinity. Though different, Guan Fei still recognized him.
Guan Fei never forgot what he saw, let alone someone as strange as Bujing Nu.
Truly strange.
"Thank you, Commander Guan, for remembering Bujing Nu."
Bujing Nu sat in the chair, unwrapping candy to eat.
Guan Fei had already risen. He waited for a long while, but Bujing Nu did not continue speaking. His gaze inevitably drifted to the dark food box Bujing Nu had brought.
Bujing Nu could not possibly have actually brought him a meal. Strange as Bujing Nu was, he was not that idle.
Whatever was inside—who knew.
Only after a piece of malt candy had dissolved in his mouth did Bujing Nu speak.
"Today is not just for greetings, Commander Guan. During the day, I was invited by Prince Beikang to his residence. While inspecting the manor, I discovered two servants who had infiltrated the household under false identities. One was a eunuch—I recognized him. His name is Shunxi, formerly in the service of the Second Prince, who later returned to his hometown due to age. The other, I performed Bone Reading on—a woman around nineteen years of age. The fabric of her clothing I have seen in the capital, but never in Jinling. I have brought the head. Commander Guan, do you recognize her?"
Bujing Nu opened the food box and displayed it directly to Guan Fei.
Guan Fei: …
Even with mental preparation, looking at it left him with an indescribable feeling in both body and mind.
Though the war had just ended, everyone feared death. No one felt comfortable looking at a corpse. He had his men bury the dead by the riverbank, keeping civilians away. Guan Fei had seen many dead bodies lately, but he was a normal person, and he was not on a battlefield now.
A normal person would not enjoy looking at the dead.
Guan Fei stared at the face of the severed head, trying to recognize it, then shook his head. "My lord, I do not recognize her either."
"Then Commander Guan should have a messenger take it to the capital, or have a painter draw a portrait of the head."
Finding such a skilled painter would not be easy either.