Chapter 191 [Alien] Confession Again 2
Mu Chi stumbled a step, his palms bracing against the bamboo trunk beside him. Blood seeped from between his fingers and trickled down along the bamboo's veins. He lowered his head, his voice low and hoarse, yet it emanated from his chest: "Get lost... Don't make me say that again."
Hua Jin froze in place, the warmth of Mu Chi's wrist still lingering on his fingertips. He saw Mu Chi's shoulder blades tremble slightly in the moonlight, like a thin sheet of snow that could be blown away by the wind at any moment.
That back figure is too fragile.
Is he wrong to say that?
Why does Mu Chi look unhappy? I have always expressed myself this way. Mu Chi also said that I can express myself directly whether I am unhappy or happy, or if I like something. Why doesn't this work for Mu Chi?
He couldn't figure it out. He had already given up on Zuo Qianqian's ideas, but he still remembered what Zuo Qianqian had told him: if you like something, you should fight for it. Maybe he liked him too, but he just didn't realize it?
In Hua Jin's opinion, being able to give one's life for someone means liking and loving that person, because Zuo Qianqian is like that and so is he.
Mu Chi was willing to enter the Mirror of the Heart for him. Just because there was such a slim chance, he came to save himself and was willing to give his life for him. Can't it be said that Mu Chi doesn't like him?
All I can say is that even Mu Chi himself was unaware of this love, and he just kept avoiding it, because the relationship between master and disciple in this world is unethical.
Hua Jin knew in his heart that he wanted to change the rules. He wanted to become strong and be with his master.
He was so sure that Mu Chi liked him. Mu Chi did like him, but this kind of liking was different from what he wanted. Under his little pursuit, or in the mirror of his heart, this kind of liking would change.
However, after today's incident, Hua Jin would not express his opinion rashly.
After lunch, Hua Jin and eight other people waited in the martial arts field.
"Brother Hua, Brother Chang is so powerful, why doesn't he come and participate in the Linghong competition?"
"You may not know, but my master said that those who participated in the Linghong competition last time can no longer participate. Chang Feihong has already participated three times." Lan Feiyue was one of the ten people. She had just finished organizing the books for He Ju and rushed over.
"How can he be as powerful as Lan Tingzhu? Lan Tingzhu is Elder He's last disciple. He has achieved such a high level of cultivation after only four years of cultivation." Another person praised Lan Feiyue upon seeing her arrival. "I really admire him."
Lan Feiyue smiled and said, "You are not bad at all since you were selected. We are all the same."
The thin snow on the western hills hadn't melted yet. The setting sun seemed split by a sword, its blood-red glow streaming across the bluestone of the martial arts arena. Everyone gathered around Lan Feiyue, their voices rising and falling like a flock of noisy birds. Hua Jin could only hear his own heartbeat, beating against his eardrums, deeper than a drum.
When the figure he wanted to see finally appeared in his sight, he couldn't take his eyes off it.
He used to look at Mu Chi like this, and now it didn't seem strange to others.
But only the two of them knew the emotional content of their current situation. Such a burning gaze burned Mu Chi. He just glanced at Hua Jin and then looked away.
When the others saw Mu Chi coming, they all saluted.
"Valley Master."
Mu Chi's gaze swept through the crowd like a breeze, cold and without warmth, but as it passed Hua Jin, it paused for a fraction of a second, imperceptibly. The pause was so brief it seemed an illusion, but it was enough to make Hua Jin's fingertips curl tightly in her sleeve.
"Ling Hong's martial arts competition is about sharpening the sword and seeking the truth, not hurting others." His voice was not loud, but it was like snowflakes rolling across the edge of a sword, chilling to the bone. "Everyone, just do your best, but I hope that the first place winner will be a disciple of my Yinyou Valley."
"Yes, disciple understands and will do his best."
Mu Chi raised his hand, letting his wide sleeves fall, revealing an old scar on his wrist, like a crack in the snow. "From today on, every day will start at yin and end at you."
His voice was very light, but it made the martial arts field silent.
"Sword, body, mind, if any one of them fails, the whole team will have to practice for an extra hour."
As soon as he finished speaking, Lan Feiyue looked at the other disciples and their faces turned pale.
The wind from the west mountain suddenly blew over, making everyone's clothes flutter, like a group of young eagles driven onto a cliff.
Mu Chi did not give them a chance to breathe. A green light flashed from his sleeve, and an unsheathed bamboo sword was nailed three inches into the bluestone.
"The first move is 'Listening to the Snow'."
He brought two fingers together and brushed the sword's spine. The bamboo suddenly turned frosty, instantly covered with a thin layer of snow. "To listen to the snow, close your five senses and focus your mind. Where the sword tip touches, you must distinguish the sound of the wind, the beating of your heart, the falling of dust."
Mu Chi raised his eyes, and for the first time his gaze fell directly on Hua Jin, but his gaze also penetrated him and looked towards the mountain peak farther away.
"Xiao Jin."
The fingertips of the person whose name was called trembled.
"You be the target."
The wind suddenly stopped.
The martial arts arena was dead silent, as if someone had accidentally stopped breathing.
Hua Jin's fingers, hanging at his sides, slowly loosened and then tightened again. He looked up and saw the frosty color of the bamboo sword reflected in Mu Chi's pupils, like a pool of broken ice.
"Okay." He heard himself say, his voice was very soft, but it fell firmly into everyone's ears.
Mu Chi didn't say another word, but just stepped aside.
…………
In the following month, all ten people were promoted through such training.
During this month, Hua Jin wanted to talk to Mu Chi, but Mu Chi ignored him.
It's not that he ignored him. Mu Chi continued to care about his disciple as usual. But every time Hua Jin changed the subject, Mu Chi would scold him and stop him.
Hua Jin was very unhappy and depressed because of the setbacks everywhere.
On the eve of their departure for Linghong Mountain, a silent snow fell on the western hills. Hua Jin practiced swordplay until the end of the hour of midnight, his bamboo sword "Listening to the Snow" curling its final sword flower at the base of his wrist. The frost hadn't faded yet, but his knuckles were already bluish-white from the cold.
He would come to Xishan every day, and after meeting Mu Chi, he would practice sword in the small martial arts field in Xishan.
Snowflakes fell in the cracks of the bluestone, like tiny knives.
He sheathed his sword and when he turned around he saw Mu Chi standing in the corridor, his black clothes as black as ink, with a thin layer of snow on his shoulders. He didn't know how long he had been watching.
"Master."
Hua Jin's throat tightened. The grievances and longings accumulated over the past month suddenly choked in his throat, turning into a burning bitterness. Mu Chi didn't respond, but raised his hand to brush the snow off his shoulders. His voice was colder than the snow: "You have distracting thoughts in your mind."
Hua Jin lowered his eyes and saw that the tip of his sword was still trembling slightly——
That was the old wound left by Mu Chi poking his wrist with a bamboo sword that day. He suddenly smiled, his smile like blood seeping through the snow. "Master, do you mean by distracting thoughts that I shouldn't have for you, or is it Master who has distracting thoughts?"
Mu Chi's pupils shrank sharply. He didn't expect Hua Jin to say that. He came here today to clarify the relationship between them.
This month, and even the few days in Yandu, he was extremely tormented and extremely clear-headed.
"Xiao Jin, you and I are master and disciple, and we can only be master and disciple," Mu Chi said seriously. "In the past, I didn't know how to educate you on matters of love and sex, which has caused you a lot of confusion over the past few years. That's my fault, so let's make things clear today."
He actually refused.
For example, after the first time, he obviously distanced himself from Hua Jin, but that distant and unfamiliar feeling did not make Hua Jin let go. Instead, he fell into Zuo Qianqian's trap.
For example, after the second time, he was completely confused. He was lying on the bed with Hua Jin next to him. He didn't drive the man away. He was angry, very angry. He was thinking about what to do at that time. What should he do with this apprentice?
"I don't have any romantic feelings for you. Forget what happened at the banquet. I will pretend it never happened. From now on, you and I will still be master and disciple..."
Before he could finish his words, Hua Jin rushed forward, pressed his head and blocked his mouth.
The snow fell faster and faster, and countless tiny ice needles pierced into my clothes.
Hua Jin's palm rested on the back of Mu Chi's neck, his knuckles white from the pressure, but his lips remained pressed against hers, without any further advances. This kiss felt more like a standoff—whoever pulled away first lost.
Mu Chi's eyelashes were stained with snow, trembling like a fluttering butterfly. He suddenly grabbed Hua Jin's wrist, his knuckles almost digging into the pulse beneath the thin skin, but he didn't push her away. As their breaths mingled, the snow melted on his lips, the salty taste of blood.
"That's enough," Mu Chi finally spoke, his voice so hoarse it didn't sound like his own. "You insist on forcing me..."
"What are you trying to force?" Hua Jin retreated half an inch, forehead touching forehead, snowy water dripping down his chin onto Mu Chi's collarbone. "Force you to admit that you can actually distinguish between the etiquette of master and disciple and what your heart desires?"
Mu Chi's fingertips trembled on his wrist. The old scar from Yandu was pale against the snow, like a crack that would never heal. He suddenly thought of the mirror.
"Bastard!" He pushed Hua Jin away and almost fell down himself. He glared at Hua Jin angrily.
Xiao Jin was not like this before. He never said such words. He was always respectful to me and would never be so rude and disrespectful. Ever since the banquet, he seemed like a different person. No...
Xiao Jin wouldn't do that, but he would...
So Hua Jin remembered what happened in the mirror, but like that person, he pretended not to know, blindly deceiving himself and playing with himself in the palm of his hand.
The snow suddenly stopped.
But the wind was even colder, like a knife blowing from the back of the ridge, cutting into the skin inch by inch.
Mu Chi's anger was still hanging in the air. He said:
"You lied to me."
Mu Chi's voice was so low that it was almost inaudible, but it struck Hua Jin like a thunderbolt. Hua Jin was startled, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes: "...What did I lie to you about?"
Mu Chi stared at him, his eyes looking as if he wanted to cut him open. His gaze was so sharp that Hua Jin almost felt like he was being cut into a bloody mess.
"Mirror of the Heart," Mu Chi said, emphasizing each word. "You remember what you did and said in the mirror, right?"
Hua Jin's fingertips trembled slightly in his sleeves, but his face still had that stubborn look: "What are you talking about, Master? I have never--"
"Stop pretending!" Mu Chi suddenly shouted, his voice booming in the snowy night, startling several roosting jackdaws. "How is the difference between you and the person in the mirror? Even the tone, the look in your eyes, the way you pronounce words are exactly the same!"
He approached step by step, and the snow crumbled into powder under his feet.
"You think I can't recognize you? You think I can't tell the difference?" Mu Chi's voice lowered, like an extremely suppressed anger, and also like some deeper pain. "You can fool others, but can you fool me?"
Snow particles were picked up by the wind and flew between them like tiny blades. Hua Jin was forced to retreat three steps, his back pressed against the cold bamboo trunk, leaving him with nowhere to retreat.
Hua Jin recalled the scene when he met Mu Chi two years ago. His master was crazy and muttered to himself. He asked, but his master didn't say anything. He didn't dare to ask.
Even now he still asks but is worried about Mu Chi.
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