Faraway Wanderers - V1C15
Chapter 15
Exposed
From
that point on, the duo became a trio. Dong Ting was one of Zhou Zishu’s
planned stops, so he had no objections to the change.
Some people lived their lives with such simple normality that trying to think outside the box only gave them headaches—Cao Weining would be an example. Then, on the other hand, some couldn’t help but dig deeper into everything, overcomplicating matters with endless possibilities before they even realized it—like Zhou Zishu.
Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing seamlessly fell back into their familiar rhythm of teasing banter, the air around them crackling with playful energy. Wen Kezing, with a mischievous glint in his eye, launched a cleverly veiled jab at Zhou Zishu, eliciting a hearty laugh that echoed through the serene surroundings. Zhou Zishu, never one to back down, shot back with a quick-witted retort, his tone dripping with mock indignation. Their playful taunts danced between them like sparks, each word a playful nudge as they effortlessly sought to provoke one another.
After listening to their back-and-forth with a puzzled expression, Cao Weining concluded, “You two have such remarkable camaraderie.”
Zhou Zishu fell silent, giving Cao Weining a sidelong glance. He was well aware that the Patriarch of the Qing Feng Sword Sect was quite sly; how had he managed to raise such an innocent young man like Cao?
Wen Kexing, taking the opportunity, draped his arms around Zhou Zishu’s shoulders and smiled at Cao Weining, “Thank you, Young Master Cao. I’ve decided that I will only marry Brother Zhou in this lifetime.”
Cao Weining’s eyes widened, his mouth agape.
Zhou Zishu shot back, accustomed to this line of banter, “I’m afraid I have to reject Brother Wen. With my terminal illness, my days are numbered; what good would it do to tie yourself to someone who is slowly fading away?”
Wen Kexing responded earnestly, “If you were to go, I would remain alone for the rest of my life.”
Zhou Zishu’s words were sharp. “It’s often the fate of a brilliant mind to endure solitude; who am I to interfere with that?”
Wen Kexing remained unfazed, “Come on, don’t be overly modest, A Xu; that’s far too polite.”
Zhou Zishu swiftly waved his hands and replied, “Not at all, why would I be?”
Cao Weining’s gaze darted between the two before he finally asked, “Is Brother Zhou’s illness what’s holding back your feelings for one another?”
After a brief silence, Wen Kexing erupted into laughter, clearly fond of Cao Weining’s innocence.
Zhou Zishu coughed for a while, gently pushing Wen Kexing's arms away from his neck and responding with a serious expression. “Brother Cao, there’s no need to overthink this; the closest Brother Wen and I can ever be is as distant acquaintances.”
Cao Weining frowned, sensing that the other was trying to convince himself. “Someone like Brother Zhou should not have to endure this,” he said with concern.
Zhou Zishu managed a bitter smile. “I appreciate your kindness, Brother Cao, but I don’t truly feel…”
“My master knows some unconventional figures in the jianghu, and luckily, a few are from Shaman Medicine Valley. It would be wonderful if you could accompany me back after addressing the issues with the unorthodox sects. My master has ways that could assist you.”
Zhou Zishu felt deeply touched but remained silent.
To his surprise, Cao Weining was quick to act. He clasped his hands together in a fist-palm salute. “Please wait for me at the inn; I’ll send word to my uncle right away.”
Without hesitation, he turned and left. Wen Kexing remarked, “How eager he is… truly someone worthy of being my equal.”
He then shifted his gaze to Zhou Zishu, studying him thoughtfully. After a moment, Wen Kexing asked, “What’s on your mind? Did my heartfelt words strike a chord with you, A Xu? Are you considering responding in kind?”
Zhou Zishu replied with a cold smile, “Forgive me, but I can’t shake the feeling that Brother Wen’s intentions for going to Dong Ting are rather shadowy.”
Wen Kexing became serious. “Being helpful and generous are merely small virtues; do you know what the greater virtues are?”
Zhou Zishu narrowed his eyes, studying the other man in silence.
Wen Kexing spoke slowly, each word adorned with gravity. “A day spent in an empty Hell only pulls you further from the path of ascension; good and evil have been unable to coexist in harmony since time immemorial, wouldn’t you agree?” His calm gaze drifted into the horizon, revealing his striking profile, sharp and contemplative, like a chiseled piece of marble that has witnessed the passage of countless seasons. The usual playfulness in his demeanor had vanished, replaced by a serene stillness reminiscent of a Buddha stone statue, embodying the wisdom of ages.
“This is the mortal realm,” he continued, his voice steady and unwavering, “a domain in which monsters should not exist. That noble and virtuous Sir Gao Chong harbors the lofty ambition to eradicate evil for the greater good, and if I fail to extend my hand in aid, all those arduous years I spent poring over sacred texts and ancient scriptures would be rendered meaningless. It is said that only through years of devoted cultivation can one ascend to this realm of enlightenment, and if they do not leave a profound mark upon it, all their sacrifices are futile.”
Zhou Zishu remained quiet. Wen Kexing looked back at him. “What are your thoughts, A Xu?”
After a long pause, Zhou Zishu chuckled softly. “Brother Wen speaks as though you’re a true gentleman.”
Wen Kexing didn’t respond directly. “There are three kinds of people in this world: those who can eat meat, those who don’t object to it, and those who can’t stand it[1]. It’s just how they are born. Isn't it amusing, though, if the first type comes from poverty while the third type enjoys a life of luxury?”
After a moment of silence, Zhou Zishu spoke thoughtfully and deliberately, “Brother Wen discusses such profound mysteries that elude my understanding; however, there is one thing I am certain of.”
“And what might that be?”
"A person does not stay the same when faced with a new situation."
Wen Kexing was momentarily taken aback, eyes widening in surprise, before a hearty, infectious laughter erupted from him, his mirth so unrestrained that tears nearly spilled from the corners of his eyes. It was a sound that echoed like music in the quiet room, lightening the heavy atmosphere. Zhou Zishu, however, remained a study in calmness, his face a mask of neutrality. His pale complexion contrasted sharply with the lighthearted chaos around him, betraying none of the emotions swirling within. He lowered his eyelids slightly, as if attempting to pierce through the façade of joviality and delve deep into the intricacies of Wen Kexing’s soul, seeking understanding in the laughter that rang out like a distant bell.
After an indeterminate amount of time lost in his thoughts, Wen Kexing finally stood up again, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he wiped the moisture from his eyes with trembling hands. “A Xu,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve come to realize you are the first person in my life who truly captivates me… It’s as if your presence draws me in like a moth to a flame.” He paused, a faint, wistful smile playing on his lips as he added, “You know, I’m somewhat skilled in the art of disguise, too, able to weave in and out of identities like a shadow slipping through the night.”
He fixed his gaze on Zhou Zishu, unwavering to the point of discomfort. Zhou Zishu replied instinctively, “Oh, really?”
Wen Kexing said earnestly, “So perhaps I’ll transform myself into Gu Xiang.”
Zhou Zishu stood still, taken aback by the intensity of the moment. The flickering lantern light cast shadows across his face, revealing a blend of surprise and caution. When he noticed Wen Kexing's unwavering gaze, sharp and relentless, he felt a tightness in his chest. Quickly, he composed himself, erasing any sign of vulnerability. Maintaining a calm demeanor, he turned and walked toward the inn, the wooden planks creaking softly beneath his feet. Each step echoed his determination to keep his secrets in this unsettling encounter.
Wen Kexing stood quietly as he watched Zhou Zishu depart, his gaze lingering on the concealed shoulder blades that subtly shifted beneath the worn fabric of his tattered clothing. Despite the raggedness of his attire, Zhou Zishu emanated an indescribable aura that seemed to defy his circumstances. It was a presence that transported Wen Kexing back to a warm, sunny afternoon, when he could vividly recall Zhou Zishu leaning effortlessly against the rough stone wall of a bustling street market. In that moment, surrounded by the clamoring crowd, Zhou Zishu appeared more at ease than anyone else, his carefree demeanor contrasting starkly with the beggar-like appearance he had adopted. Something was captivating in the way he absorbed the life around him, a gentle confidence that spoke of untold stories and hidden depths beneath the surface.
Yet, Wen Kexing understood he was merely soaking up the sun.
How could someone like him not be incredibly beautiful inside and out? Wen Kexing thought with a touch of pride. In nearly thirty years of life, he had never doubted that.
As Zhou Zishu moved further away, Wen Kexing hurried after him, murmuring, “How can one really know if they will change? And regardless of whether one is averse to meat, wouldn’t it be miserable to be cast into a desolate place with nothing else to eat?”
When night fell, Cao Weining caught up to them and sensed a strange tension between the two. He cautiously asked, “Did Brother Zhou and Brother Wen disagree?”
“Don’t overthink it, Brother Cao.” They answered simultaneously yet again.
Wen Kexing peeked at Zhou Zishu, his expression a mix of intensity and playfulness. Zhou Zishu feigned ignorance.
Cao Weining scratched his head. “Um, well… I’m not quite sure how to put this, but yes, I’ve heard of such things before, although I’ve never actually seen it with real people…”
Wen Kexing observed him quietly, which led Cao Weining to continue promptly, “Please don't misunderstand me, Brother Wen. I don't mean anything ill by it. It's just a little hard for me to grasp since I have no personal experience. You both are very noble individuals, and this is a bit unusual, but…” He cleared his throat. “Please don't take my comments too seriously; we should always remember to act and speak appropriately…”
Zhou Zishu leisurely filled a cup with wine and took a few sips, thinking to himself that the young man was clearly getting flustered.
Cao Weining then lowered his gaze and took a moment before looking up, his face flushed and his voice barely above a whisper, “So, um… do you both prefer separate rooms or just one?”
Zhou Zishu nearly coughed up his wine.
Even Wen Kexing was surprised by Cao Weining, thinking, This boy is truly a gem.
The atmosphere among the three grew awkward; silence reigned, punctuated only by Zhou Zishu's coughs. Suddenly, a terrifying scream echoed from the upper floor, causing the few guests below to glance up. They saw a waiter tumble down as if he had seen a ghost, trembling and exclaiming, “A mur… mur… murder!”
Cao Weining’s demeanor shifted to seriousness as he seized his sword and made his way upstairs. A well-dressed pair, a man and a woman who looked like siblings, also hurried along. Some people just couldn't resist getting involved in others' affairs. Wen Kexing nudged Zhou Zishu with his foot. “A Xu, aren’t you curious to see what’s happening?”
Zhou Zishu stood up and bent slightly forward, “You go ahead.”
With that, Wen Kexing dashed upstairs. As he passed Zhou Zishu, he slowed down, drew closer, and whispered, “If you spend the night with me, I’ll transform into Gu Xiang for you.”
“I’m truly flattered, but I’d prefer to sleep in the stable.”
Wen Kexing clicked his tongue and shot him a glance, “You’re no fun.” Zhou Zishu followed closely behind.
As they reached the second floor, the smell of blood hit them instantly. The door to the room stood wide open, and there was Cao Weining, his expression somber, motioning for them to come closer once he spotted them. “You should take a look at this person.”
Zhou Zishu walked toward him and saw a man propped up by the bedpost, his clothes in disarray, revealing his chest; on it was a black mark in the shape of a hand. His arms were cut off and thrown into a corner, blood splattering everywhere. The corpse’s head lolled to one side, eyes unfocused, face pale. It was evident that he had been dead for a while.
Wen Kexing was taken aback, uttering a surprised sound. “This person resembles… the thief who ran into me the other day.”
Cao Weining also gasped, peering closer at the lifeless body, his expression a mix of emotions. “He… he also looks like the one who collided with me!”
The two men, bound by the same unfortunate circumstances and in need of Zhou Zishu’s assistance, exchanged glances filled with a profound sense of unity.
Then, the girl beside them spoke up, “I recognize this person; he’s Fang Buzhi, the Nine-Claw Spirit Fox!”
Some people lived their lives with such simple normality that trying to think outside the box only gave them headaches—Cao Weining would be an example. Then, on the other hand, some couldn’t help but dig deeper into everything, overcomplicating matters with endless possibilities before they even realized it—like Zhou Zishu.
Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing seamlessly fell back into their familiar rhythm of teasing banter, the air around them crackling with playful energy. Wen Kezing, with a mischievous glint in his eye, launched a cleverly veiled jab at Zhou Zishu, eliciting a hearty laugh that echoed through the serene surroundings. Zhou Zishu, never one to back down, shot back with a quick-witted retort, his tone dripping with mock indignation. Their playful taunts danced between them like sparks, each word a playful nudge as they effortlessly sought to provoke one another.
After listening to their back-and-forth with a puzzled expression, Cao Weining concluded, “You two have such remarkable camaraderie.”
Zhou Zishu fell silent, giving Cao Weining a sidelong glance. He was well aware that the Patriarch of the Qing Feng Sword Sect was quite sly; how had he managed to raise such an innocent young man like Cao?
Wen Kexing, taking the opportunity, draped his arms around Zhou Zishu’s shoulders and smiled at Cao Weining, “Thank you, Young Master Cao. I’ve decided that I will only marry Brother Zhou in this lifetime.”
Cao Weining’s eyes widened, his mouth agape.
Zhou Zishu shot back, accustomed to this line of banter, “I’m afraid I have to reject Brother Wen. With my terminal illness, my days are numbered; what good would it do to tie yourself to someone who is slowly fading away?”
Wen Kexing responded earnestly, “If you were to go, I would remain alone for the rest of my life.”
Zhou Zishu’s words were sharp. “It’s often the fate of a brilliant mind to endure solitude; who am I to interfere with that?”
Wen Kexing remained unfazed, “Come on, don’t be overly modest, A Xu; that’s far too polite.”
Zhou Zishu swiftly waved his hands and replied, “Not at all, why would I be?”
Cao Weining’s gaze darted between the two before he finally asked, “Is Brother Zhou’s illness what’s holding back your feelings for one another?”
After a brief silence, Wen Kexing erupted into laughter, clearly fond of Cao Weining’s innocence.
Zhou Zishu coughed for a while, gently pushing Wen Kexing's arms away from his neck and responding with a serious expression. “Brother Cao, there’s no need to overthink this; the closest Brother Wen and I can ever be is as distant acquaintances.”
Cao Weining frowned, sensing that the other was trying to convince himself. “Someone like Brother Zhou should not have to endure this,” he said with concern.
Zhou Zishu managed a bitter smile. “I appreciate your kindness, Brother Cao, but I don’t truly feel…”
“My master knows some unconventional figures in the jianghu, and luckily, a few are from Shaman Medicine Valley. It would be wonderful if you could accompany me back after addressing the issues with the unorthodox sects. My master has ways that could assist you.”
Zhou Zishu felt deeply touched but remained silent.
To his surprise, Cao Weining was quick to act. He clasped his hands together in a fist-palm salute. “Please wait for me at the inn; I’ll send word to my uncle right away.”
Without hesitation, he turned and left. Wen Kexing remarked, “How eager he is… truly someone worthy of being my equal.”
He then shifted his gaze to Zhou Zishu, studying him thoughtfully. After a moment, Wen Kexing asked, “What’s on your mind? Did my heartfelt words strike a chord with you, A Xu? Are you considering responding in kind?”
Zhou Zishu replied with a cold smile, “Forgive me, but I can’t shake the feeling that Brother Wen’s intentions for going to Dong Ting are rather shadowy.”
Wen Kexing became serious. “Being helpful and generous are merely small virtues; do you know what the greater virtues are?”
Zhou Zishu narrowed his eyes, studying the other man in silence.
Wen Kexing spoke slowly, each word adorned with gravity. “A day spent in an empty Hell only pulls you further from the path of ascension; good and evil have been unable to coexist in harmony since time immemorial, wouldn’t you agree?” His calm gaze drifted into the horizon, revealing his striking profile, sharp and contemplative, like a chiseled piece of marble that has witnessed the passage of countless seasons. The usual playfulness in his demeanor had vanished, replaced by a serene stillness reminiscent of a Buddha stone statue, embodying the wisdom of ages.
“This is the mortal realm,” he continued, his voice steady and unwavering, “a domain in which monsters should not exist. That noble and virtuous Sir Gao Chong harbors the lofty ambition to eradicate evil for the greater good, and if I fail to extend my hand in aid, all those arduous years I spent poring over sacred texts and ancient scriptures would be rendered meaningless. It is said that only through years of devoted cultivation can one ascend to this realm of enlightenment, and if they do not leave a profound mark upon it, all their sacrifices are futile.”
Zhou Zishu remained quiet. Wen Kexing looked back at him. “What are your thoughts, A Xu?”
After a long pause, Zhou Zishu chuckled softly. “Brother Wen speaks as though you’re a true gentleman.”
Wen Kexing didn’t respond directly. “There are three kinds of people in this world: those who can eat meat, those who don’t object to it, and those who can’t stand it[1]. It’s just how they are born. Isn't it amusing, though, if the first type comes from poverty while the third type enjoys a life of luxury?”
After a moment of silence, Zhou Zishu spoke thoughtfully and deliberately, “Brother Wen discusses such profound mysteries that elude my understanding; however, there is one thing I am certain of.”
“And what might that be?”
"A person does not stay the same when faced with a new situation."
Wen Kexing was momentarily taken aback, eyes widening in surprise, before a hearty, infectious laughter erupted from him, his mirth so unrestrained that tears nearly spilled from the corners of his eyes. It was a sound that echoed like music in the quiet room, lightening the heavy atmosphere. Zhou Zishu, however, remained a study in calmness, his face a mask of neutrality. His pale complexion contrasted sharply with the lighthearted chaos around him, betraying none of the emotions swirling within. He lowered his eyelids slightly, as if attempting to pierce through the façade of joviality and delve deep into the intricacies of Wen Kexing’s soul, seeking understanding in the laughter that rang out like a distant bell.
After an indeterminate amount of time lost in his thoughts, Wen Kexing finally stood up again, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he wiped the moisture from his eyes with trembling hands. “A Xu,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve come to realize you are the first person in my life who truly captivates me… It’s as if your presence draws me in like a moth to a flame.” He paused, a faint, wistful smile playing on his lips as he added, “You know, I’m somewhat skilled in the art of disguise, too, able to weave in and out of identities like a shadow slipping through the night.”
He fixed his gaze on Zhou Zishu, unwavering to the point of discomfort. Zhou Zishu replied instinctively, “Oh, really?”
Wen Kexing said earnestly, “So perhaps I’ll transform myself into Gu Xiang.”
Zhou Zishu stood still, taken aback by the intensity of the moment. The flickering lantern light cast shadows across his face, revealing a blend of surprise and caution. When he noticed Wen Kexing's unwavering gaze, sharp and relentless, he felt a tightness in his chest. Quickly, he composed himself, erasing any sign of vulnerability. Maintaining a calm demeanor, he turned and walked toward the inn, the wooden planks creaking softly beneath his feet. Each step echoed his determination to keep his secrets in this unsettling encounter.
Wen Kexing stood quietly as he watched Zhou Zishu depart, his gaze lingering on the concealed shoulder blades that subtly shifted beneath the worn fabric of his tattered clothing. Despite the raggedness of his attire, Zhou Zishu emanated an indescribable aura that seemed to defy his circumstances. It was a presence that transported Wen Kexing back to a warm, sunny afternoon, when he could vividly recall Zhou Zishu leaning effortlessly against the rough stone wall of a bustling street market. In that moment, surrounded by the clamoring crowd, Zhou Zishu appeared more at ease than anyone else, his carefree demeanor contrasting starkly with the beggar-like appearance he had adopted. Something was captivating in the way he absorbed the life around him, a gentle confidence that spoke of untold stories and hidden depths beneath the surface.
Yet, Wen Kexing understood he was merely soaking up the sun.
How could someone like him not be incredibly beautiful inside and out? Wen Kexing thought with a touch of pride. In nearly thirty years of life, he had never doubted that.
As Zhou Zishu moved further away, Wen Kexing hurried after him, murmuring, “How can one really know if they will change? And regardless of whether one is averse to meat, wouldn’t it be miserable to be cast into a desolate place with nothing else to eat?”
When night fell, Cao Weining caught up to them and sensed a strange tension between the two. He cautiously asked, “Did Brother Zhou and Brother Wen disagree?”
“Don’t overthink it, Brother Cao.” They answered simultaneously yet again.
Wen Kexing peeked at Zhou Zishu, his expression a mix of intensity and playfulness. Zhou Zishu feigned ignorance.
Cao Weining scratched his head. “Um, well… I’m not quite sure how to put this, but yes, I’ve heard of such things before, although I’ve never actually seen it with real people…”
Wen Kexing observed him quietly, which led Cao Weining to continue promptly, “Please don't misunderstand me, Brother Wen. I don't mean anything ill by it. It's just a little hard for me to grasp since I have no personal experience. You both are very noble individuals, and this is a bit unusual, but…” He cleared his throat. “Please don't take my comments too seriously; we should always remember to act and speak appropriately…”
Zhou Zishu leisurely filled a cup with wine and took a few sips, thinking to himself that the young man was clearly getting flustered.
Cao Weining then lowered his gaze and took a moment before looking up, his face flushed and his voice barely above a whisper, “So, um… do you both prefer separate rooms or just one?”
Zhou Zishu nearly coughed up his wine.
Even Wen Kexing was surprised by Cao Weining, thinking, This boy is truly a gem.
The atmosphere among the three grew awkward; silence reigned, punctuated only by Zhou Zishu's coughs. Suddenly, a terrifying scream echoed from the upper floor, causing the few guests below to glance up. They saw a waiter tumble down as if he had seen a ghost, trembling and exclaiming, “A mur… mur… murder!”
Cao Weining’s demeanor shifted to seriousness as he seized his sword and made his way upstairs. A well-dressed pair, a man and a woman who looked like siblings, also hurried along. Some people just couldn't resist getting involved in others' affairs. Wen Kexing nudged Zhou Zishu with his foot. “A Xu, aren’t you curious to see what’s happening?”
Zhou Zishu stood up and bent slightly forward, “You go ahead.”
With that, Wen Kexing dashed upstairs. As he passed Zhou Zishu, he slowed down, drew closer, and whispered, “If you spend the night with me, I’ll transform into Gu Xiang for you.”
“I’m truly flattered, but I’d prefer to sleep in the stable.”
Wen Kexing clicked his tongue and shot him a glance, “You’re no fun.” Zhou Zishu followed closely behind.
As they reached the second floor, the smell of blood hit them instantly. The door to the room stood wide open, and there was Cao Weining, his expression somber, motioning for them to come closer once he spotted them. “You should take a look at this person.”
Zhou Zishu walked toward him and saw a man propped up by the bedpost, his clothes in disarray, revealing his chest; on it was a black mark in the shape of a hand. His arms were cut off and thrown into a corner, blood splattering everywhere. The corpse’s head lolled to one side, eyes unfocused, face pale. It was evident that he had been dead for a while.
Wen Kexing was taken aback, uttering a surprised sound. “This person resembles… the thief who ran into me the other day.”
Cao Weining also gasped, peering closer at the lifeless body, his expression a mix of emotions. “He… he also looks like the one who collided with me!”
The two men, bound by the same unfortunate circumstances and in need of Zhou Zishu’s assistance, exchanged glances filled with a profound sense of unity.
Then, the girl beside them spoke up, “I recognize this person; he’s Fang Buzhi, the Nine-Claw Spirit Fox!”
[1] A double entendre is a figure of speech with multiple meanings. In this context, "meat" refers to a person who is interested in men.
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