Chapter 50 Picking up flowers in the morning and evening 20
The five-pointed star painted with cinnabar glowed faintly on the tung oil board. Xia Yujie's loose navy blue haori slipped off his shoulders, revealing a moon-white single garment stained with cinnabar.
The watermelon-sized pregnant belly stretched the tight Akane belt askew, and half of the bandaged calf was exposed under the hakama.
Xia Yujie sat cross-legged in the center of the formation, his thick-knuckled fingers pinching the brightly colored amulet, and the copper bell swayed gently in the humming of the magic circle.
The Japanese paper talismans floating around moved without wind, the ema tiles and broken mirror cakes flickered along with the array patterns, and the black wooden clogs were kicked into the corner, revealing the sweat stains on the white socks.
Copper candlesticks were hung between the vermilion lacquered pillars. In the swaying halo, human figures appeared one after another behind the seven pillars.
The old man on the far left has white hair on his temples, and his bony fingers are holding the imperial coin. The golden hemp thread trembles slightly in the candlelight, and the wisteria pattern hanging from the cuffs of his kimono almost sweeps the tatami.
A little further to the right, there was a middle-aged man with drooping eyelashes that seemed to be shrouded in shadows. The wisteria on the imperial coin swayed slightly with his breathing, and the candlelight cast the wrinkles on his neck into a dark brown.
As it passed over the low table holding the shrine in the center, the candlelight suddenly exploded.
The entire circle of candles flickered in rotation, casting the shadows of the seven people on the shoji paper into silhouettes of varying depths. As the candles went out one after another, the territory of light continued to shrink.
The old man on the far left suddenly looked up, his cloudy eyes reflecting Geto Suguru who was sitting cross-legged in the middle. His voice was hoarse: "Let's get started."
Seven pairs of hands pressed down on the amulet, and a stream of heat surged from their palms, wrapping it inside. Geto Suguru turned his wrist, and the amulet also slowly rotated in his palms.
The lamp closest to him went out with a hiss, and green smoke rose like a thin snake. Then the second, third... lights went silent one after another, as if an invisible hand had extinguished them one by one.
The darkness spread towards the center like a tide, extending all the way to his feet and eventually engulfing all figures.
When a candle suddenly lit up, Xia Yujie only felt a dazzling light, and when he opened his eyes, he saw only darkness in front of him.
"Sugar Oil!"
A piece of white chalk flew from a distance and was accurately nailed into the floor tiles. A rough black face poked out from under the chalk, angrily speaking.
"You and Gojo Satoru pay attention to the lesson!"
A rough hand pressed hard on the back of his head, pushing his head against the desk.
The cold edge of the wooden desk pressed against his cheekbone, and the back of his neck was held tightly by someone's palm.
Geto Xia Yu turned his head with difficulty and caught a glimpse of the equally distorted figure at the next table out of the corner of his eye.
Gojo Satoru's glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose, the lenses fogged up. Seeing his appearance clearly, he couldn't help but chuckle and said, "Excellent student, did you miss me?"
Geto Xia Yu was slightly stunned, and some fragments emerged in his mind.
It's the first day of school.
So in your heart, this is where everything for us started?
He remembered that at that time he and Gojo Satoru had just experienced their first temporary two-person mission before school started, and because of their personalities, he and Gojo Satoru had a grudge against each other.
At that time, they both had their own pride and competed with each other for a while. However, because they were the only two male students in that class, they ate, lived and worked together, and became friends through playing and joking.
So many years had passed since that first class that he couldn't remember exactly what Ye Moth had taught him.
I only remember that even though he was subdued by Ye Mo, he and Wu refused to admit defeat. They secretly pulled each other and finally were driven out of the classroom and made to stand in the corner by Ye Mo who was so angry that he fainted.
When Geto Xiayou thought of this, a hint of joy appeared on his lips, and he felt much more relaxed. Even his expression when he looked at the moth softened.
It is not an easy task to connect with Wu's cursed power, even if he has achieved a fusion resonance with Wu's cursed power before, it is still not an easy task.
After all, the cursed vortex of their fusion has been disconnected, and now it is not something that can be done with just a word if they want to reconnect it.
After all, at the time, they were at least facing each other, and there was magic power pulling each other.
Now, he and Wu are separated by more than one door and a cursed object that can block all cursed energy.
If one wants to connect with Wu, he can only rely on the forced induction of the formation to draw his soul over.
Gojo Satoru's fingertips swayed frivolously in front of Geto Suguru's eyes, and the sunlight filtering through the blinds cut out light and dark spots on his white hair.
He twisted his wrist slightly, his knuckles hovering in front of Geto's pupils like a fluttering butterfly, the tail end of his tone dragging out like melted honey: "Geto—what are you daydreaming about?"
"Satoru, relax."
The moment he finished speaking, Geto Suguru's hand had already precisely grasped his wrist.
Geto Xiayou pressed his fingertips against Gojo Satoru's pulsating radial artery. The warmth of his palm came through his skin, but was split by another, colder touch.
The purple cursed energy was like a poisonous silver ring snake, raising its head from the clasped tiger's mouth, and silk-like lines climbed along the muscle lines of Gojo Satoru's forearm.
It spit out its tongue and crawled into the cuff, emitting a faint light under the snow-white bandage, slowly spreading like a drop of ink seeping into rice paper.
"Don't resist my curse, Satoru."
Geto Suguru's voice was as deep as water-soaked sandalwood, and his fingertips caressed the protruding edges of his wrist bones.
When Gojo Satoru raised his eyebrows, he saw the other person's drooping eyelashes casting butterfly-wing shadows on his eyelids.
The purple cursed energy was flowing along the curve of his elbow, forming a dense ring at his ulna. The cool touch suddenly reminded him of the wisteria flowers drying on the rooftop of the technical high school.
"Jie, did you lead me here just to abandon me again?"
"Wu..." What are you talking about? You said you were forced to do this? Stop joking.
Wasn't this the goal I had set from the beginning? To get everything back on track, to reach that resting place alone, to seek true liberation?
Geto Xia Yu pursed his lips, not knowing how to answer.
Because this is indeed the fact he wants to promote.
Gojo Satoru seemed to have anticipated his reaction and spoke in a light tone.
"Well, even though I already knew it, I'm still angry. Sure enough, I'm still upset. And it's you, Jay."
The right shoulder wrapped in the school uniform was emitting a remnant of cursed energy, and black and purple threads were climbing along the hollow of the collarbone.
They were like balls of wool soaked in ink, slowly moving along Gojo Satoru's shoulders, into his chest, and finally wrapping around his neck.
The light seeping from the ceiling was shattered by his eyelashes. When Gojo Satoru lowered his eyes, the mist in his pupils was ethereal, spreading outward in layers like a coastline at high tide.
The moment the silk thread climbed up his cheekbone, he suddenly remembered the candy man he and Geto Suguru ate when he was in high school. The same sticky touch, the same bitter and sweet coolness in his palms.
His Adam's apple rolled under his collar, and the corners of his mouth, which were about to rise, froze into ice, allowing the gray-purple mass to slide from the tear gland to the iris, like a drop of ink falling into a still lake.
Xia Yujie clenched his fingers suddenly and stared at the silk thread spreading on Gojo Satoru's forehead. The corners of his eyes, which were originally filled with a smile, were now filled with a layer of dark clouds.
Wu, our child——
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