The little fish’s tank had been re-refined by its master, and the tank had become a Yellow-tier high-grade magic tool.
The outside of the tank still looked like crystal, as if it had never changed. But underneath the water, there was an entirely different world hidden within.
The little fish dove straight to the bottom of the tank in one breath — there was a patch of small reef rocks at the bottom. It squeezed into the pile of reef, and inside, the space instantly became spacious, actually as big as five or six fish tanks, with seaweed floating and over a dozen milky-white stones piled up.
This was its little den, a den that belonged only to it.
The little fish’s eyes blinked. It hugged a stone with its fin and gently took a bite, then covered the stone back up with the water grass.
Although it wasn’t short on stones, it still couldn’t bear to eat too many. But if its master ever needed them, it would unhesitatingly take out all the stones and give them to its master.
The originally quiet courtyard stirred with movement, and the little fish curiously poked out from the water. Its small fin propped against the rim of the crystal wall, and it looked outward — it turned out its master’s Senior Brother had returned.
It was already dusk now, and its master’s Senior Brother was going to cook for its master.
It watched as the master’s Senior Brother took out — from who knows where — many fish, and slaughtered them one by one with a knife.
The little fish, being of the same fish kind, was greatly alarmed. It swam backward, trembling. This was too, too…
Wen Chaoxi discovered he had also caught an extra little shrimp on the way back. He lifted the shrimp up, looked out toward the courtyard, walked outside, tossed the shrimp into the fish tank, and returned to the kitchen.
The little shrimp fell into the water and happened to land right by the little fish’s mouth. The little fish instinctively bit down on it, and the fear it had felt gradually faded away. Its fin trembled, and it buried its head in the fish tank.
This… actually seemed… quite delicious.
In the evening, Xu Chaoqi came back. The moment he saw so much fish, he was so excited his eyes curved like crescent moons, and he didn’t come down from that expression the whole time.
His delight was never something he hid — he happily helped himself to every dish at the table, and by the end he was sprawled contentedly across the table.
His palm pressed against his stomach, he was so full he couldn’t even straighten his back. Xu Chaoqi narrowed his eyes in contentment and sighed with feeling, “If I win again next time, will Senior Brother make me fish again?”
A scorching palm pressed against Xiao Yao’s belly through his sleeve. Wen Chaoxi turned his face to look at the stone table, his hand gently rubbing Xiao Yao’s stomach.
He sighed in a low voice, “If you eat like this again next time, I won’t make it.”
Xiao Yao’s head drooped, and he bargained, “I’ll eat less next time — can Senior Brother make it a few more times then?”
The little fish flew out of the fish tank. It dove underneath Xu Chaoqi’s palm, straining with all its might to try to lift off.
Xu Chaoqi saw through its intentions. He raised his palm and poked the white fish belly. “You can’t carry me at all. Just lie down peacefully in your tank for now — I’ll find myself another mount later.”
The little fish immediately grew anxious. It flicked its tail, wanting to prove that it was strong.
Xu Chaoqi smiled and picked up a piece of pastry, placing it on the fish’s back, and the little fish was instantly pressed flat onto the tabletop.
The little fish: …
It struggled to flip itself over, its fish eyes gazing up at the sky, all will to live gone.
The sky gradually darkened. Xu Chaoqi was someone who loved cleanliness, and once he wasn’t quite so full anymore, he hurried back to his room.
He had sat among the crowd all day today, and had also fought a bout — a faint trace of sweat clung to his body.
He went into the room and washed himself clean in the hot spring; his torn disciple robes had already been taken off by himself earlier.
Inside the room, mist swirled warmly. His feet, still beaded with water droplets, stepped out of the hot spring and onto the wooden clogs.
The sky had grown dark, and Xu Chaoqi no longer needed to put on the elaborate daytime robes. He draped on a loose white sleeping robe and tied the sash, then looked over at the disciple robes he had already taken off lying beside him. In the end, he picked up the disciple robes and walked toward Senior Brother’s room.
In Senior Brother’s room, the candle flame had not yet gone out, filling the room with warm yellow light.
Xu Chaoqi took off his wooden clogs and lay down on the bed. Taking advantage of Senior Brother not being there yet, he took out a storybook to secretly flip through a few pages first.
This bed was a bit too hard — lying on his stomach was quite uncomfortable for Xu Chaoqi. He’d have Senior Brother switch it out for a softer bed sometime.
Perhaps because he’d eaten a bit too much, Senior Brother still hadn’t come for a long while. Soon, Xu Chaoqi grew drowsy.
He yawned, lying face-down on the storybook, his eyes opening and closing.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when footsteps finally sounded outside the room. Xu Chaoqi hurriedly put away the storybook, his weary eyes drowsily lifting. “Senior Brother…”
The moment Wen Chaoxi entered, this was the scene that greeted him. His breath seemed to catch for a moment; his Adam’s apple rolled slightly, his head tilting down. After that one glance, he never looked at Xiao Yao again.
He walked to the bedside and also caught sight of the torn garment. His powerful hand picked up the clothes, and he sat down accordingly, conjuring needle and thread.
Just at that moment, Xiao Yao crawled over. Completely unaware, his eyes clear and drowsy, he defenselessly rested his head on Senior Brother’s leg just like that.
Senior Brother’s leg was rather hard, perhaps because the muscle was too firm — it wasn’t as comfortable to lie on as the hard bed.
Xu Chaoqi turned over, but even so, Senior Brother’s scent still put him more at ease and relaxed him more, making his body loosen even further, nearly melting away entirely.
He tilted his head back to watch Senior Brother sew. Perhaps because the sect was so wealthy now, even disciple robes had become magic tools — he saw only flickers of spiritual light and couldn’t make out the stitching technique at all.
When he was three years old, he too should have been sewing clothes. The reason for sewing back then wasn’t tradition — it was that Yingtian Sect had been too poor then, still an unregistered minor sect.
He hadn’t known how to sew. Some needles had even been longer than his hand. His small, clumsy fingers had gripped the needle awkwardly, and in a single afternoon he could prick his hand full of bloody holes.
Tears the size of beans had dripped onto the garment. He’d wiped his tears, until the garment was taken away by a familiar person.
From then on, every night, under the warm yellow candlelight, Senior Brother would sew clothes for the two of them at the same time.
He hadn’t known how to do anything, only able to stand barefoot on the bed and rest his chin on Senior Brother’s shoulder, or else hang himself off Senior Brother’s body, watching him sew without blinking.
When Senior Brother got hot, he’d fan him with a fan, and he’d run very fast to bring Senior Brother his meals.
He also hadn’t known how to wash clothes, so Senior Brother would wash both of theirs together. Along the long corridor, one could always spot a little pipsqueak conveniently helping collect Senior Brother’s freshly dried clothes, delivering them attentively to his room.
Until later, when he was seven, he’d had a falling-out with Senior Brother, and they’d ignored each other.
His clothes had torn again, and this time he’d stubbornly insisted on sewing them himself. He sewed all night, sewing them ugly, and still hadn’t finished.
He’d attended lessons wearing the tattered garment, and it went on like that for several days. Whenever the clothes tore he’d mend them himself, and the result only got uglier and uglier.
At night, tears streaming, he sewed the clothes, his hands pricked with several holes, and gradually he grew drowsy and fell asleep slumped over the table.
The next day, dawn broke, and he blearily opened his eyes to find that the clothes on the table, which had originally been sewn into a messy tangle, had already been sewn neat and smooth, and neatly folded.
As if realizing something, he stared straight at the clothes, his cheek burrowing into the crook of his arm, his thick lashes trembling.
That evening, he held the clothes and stood timidly at Senior Brother’s door, knocking.
The door opened. He lowered his head and said in a small voice, “Senior Brother, my clothes tore…”
A warm presence enveloped him, and the clothes were picked up by pale, clean fingers. After that, they made up again.
Xu Chaoqi burrowed against Senior Brother’s chest. He caught sight of the needle and thread box beside them, and inside, besides the fine thread, there was also a bundle of very thick red thread.
He stretched out his arm to pick out all the red thread, and as he raised his head, the blue-black tassel at Senior Brother’s waist fell right before his eyes.
His lashes fluttered, and he reached his hand toward Senior Brother’s waist.
Just as his hand touched Senior Brother’s jade belt, his pale, clean palm was seized by a strong, large hand — the atmosphere seemed to congeal somewhat.
Xu Chaoqi blinked, staring at the veins showing on the back of Senior Brother’s hand. He didn’t know since when, but every time Senior Brother touched him it was always through his clothing — yet this time Senior Brother had ignored that entirely, directly gripping his hand with his bare hand, as if… he were afraid Xu Chaoqi was about to do something.
Xu Chaoqi didn’t understand. His beautiful phoenix eyes reflected the candlelight. Because his neck was tilted back, his voice came out slightly hoarse. “Senior Brother, I want the jade pendant.”
There was a moment of silence in the air. Senior Brother lowered his eyes, and with one hand removed the jade pendant from his waist, handing it to Xiao Yao.
Xu Chaoqi took the jade pendant. He glanced around suspiciously, but in the end withdrew his wariness and set his gaze on the pendant.
The pendant was made of white jade — both its luster and its craftsmanship were unmatched in the world, imbued with spiritual energy he couldn’t fathom. The cord knot above and the tassel below were both blue-black, both handsome and lending an air of steadiness.
He thought about it for a moment, and in the end still took the white jade apart, fetching a bright, vivid crimson red thread to start restringing it.
This crimson red was a color he often used for his own garments — paired with Senior Brother’s clothes, it wouldn’t look out of place, but would instead make the wearer look a few years younger.
Since childhood he’d been utterly hopeless with anything related to needlework — let alone tying a knot or braiding a tassel, even stringing beads took him half a day.
He lay sprawled on Senior Brother’s leg, pulling the thread and scissors close, working at it earnestly.
Under the candle’s shadow, the person on his lap busied himself for a long while; Wen Chaoxi had already finished sewing the garment long ago. He thought about it, and simply took out an old book to read instead.
Before long, the person in his arms lowered his head to lean in close to the red thread, and a large hand, through the fabric of his sleeve, supported his forehead to keep him from straining his eyes.
Xu Chaoqi kept tangling the red thread up without meaning to, having to start over again and again.
Because this was his first time making a tassel, even if the tassel was ever so slightly uneven, he’d throw it away and redo it.
The night deepened, and it grew cool outside the window.
Wen Chaoxi turned a page of the book, brow furrowing faintly. He stroked the hair at the temple of the person in his lap, and noticed the tiredness on Xiao Yao as well.
Just as he was thinking of letting him fall asleep, the person in his arms suddenly grew excited.
He eagerly propped himself up by the waist, half-kneeling on the bed, leaning his head toward Wen Chaoxi’s waist.
Wen Chaoxi’s breathing faltered for an instant; though he didn’t move, his entire body had already gone taut.
The warm bundle at his waist drew ever closer, and even through the heavy layers of his robe, Wen Chaoxi felt as though he could still sense every warm breath Xiao Yao exhaled.
His body was as rigid as stone. He lowered his eyes to watch as Xiao Yao earnestly tied onto his waist the jade pendant he had spent over half an hour braiding.
“Senior Brother…” Xu Chaoqi looked between the pendant and Senior Brother’s robes — the two suited each other beautifully. A wave of joy spread around him.
Hearing him call out, Wen Chaoxi looked down at his waist too. It was only then that he suddenly realized — the person in his arms had been busy all this while for his sake.
His rough fingers brushed over the cord knot, and unbidden, memories surfaced in his mind of the boy beside him in his youth, and that boy’s weariness and resistance toward needlework back then.
He gazed quietly at the crimson tassel — this color was as vivid as the young man beside him now. His fingertip pinched the red tassel, and indeed, it carried warmth, like the youthful vigor of the young man.
He fell silent, his lowered eyes not lifting for a long while.
Xu Chaoqi sensed the air had grown somewhat uneasy, as if boundless spiritual energy had wrapped around him, leaving him unable to escape.
He lifted his eyes slightly, only to hear Senior Brother say, “It’s late. Xiao Yao, go to sleep quickly.”
Xu Chaoqi indeed felt somewhat drowsy. He looked around with hazy eyes, then suddenly lay down, turning over sleepily and grabbing hold of Senior Brother’s sleeve.
“No, I’m too sleepy. Can I sleep in Senior Brother’s room tonight?”