Tail...tail...
Ji Wang's head bobbed up and down, his eyelids feeling as heavy as if they were weighed down with lead.
He forced himself to hold the cinnabar brush, his wrist already so sore and numb that he could no longer feel it. The golden rune floating in front of him began to blur and double, turning into a dazzling halo in his eyes.
He had traveled for several days on the two copper coins given to him by the temple, enduring wind and rain, and was already exhausted. Coupled with the fright he had just experienced and the intense yet tedious practice of the past few hours, his body had long since given out.
He felt as if he were walking on cotton, the bright lights around him were like a windowpane, and only the outline of the rune remained in his mind, but the strokes seemed to be getting more and more distorted.
The pen tip dragged limply on the yellow paper, leaving a long, weak mark, no different from the pile of talismans he had previously ruined.
His head finally drooped completely, and his grip on the pen loosened; he was about to fall forward onto the pile of scribbles.
Just before his consciousness was about to completely fade away, Bu Jiu's voice pierced his eardrums: "Wake up."
Ji Wang jolted awake and forced his eyelids open as if they were glued shut.
He looked in the direction of the sound, and his heart skipped a beat.
Unbeknownst to them, Bu Jiu was no longer on the towering Buddha's palm; he was now sitting in the Buddha's lap.
He occupied the place that was meant for people to worship, which seemed both sacrilegious and strangely harmonious.
He was still dressed in his usual loose red robes, one leg dangling from the high Buddha's embrace, the toe of his black boot swinging gently back and forth.
He looked down at Ji Wang with his head slightly lowered, his eyes, illuminated by the lamplight, like newly formed amber, now resting on Ji Wang's bewildered face.
"Is this place for you to doze off?" Bu Jiu's tone was flat, but Ji Wang could detect a hint of displeasure.
"Please forgive me, senior!" Ji Wang hurriedly tried to stand up, but his legs went numb and he stumbled, almost falling back down. He frantically grabbed the broken altar table that served as a desk in front of him. "This junior didn't mean to..."
Bu Jiu's toes immediately stopped wobbling. He tilted his head. "Not on purpose?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly at the end. "So it was intentional? You thought my teaching was too boring, and preferred to sleep?"
"No! Absolutely not!" Ji Wang's drowsiness had long since vanished with these words. "What good teaching did you give me, senior! It's just that I'm too incompetent and lack energy..."
As Bu Jiu watched him desperately trying to explain, the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly, but he quickly pursed them into a straight line.
He stopped looking at Ji Wang and instead raised his hand, his fingertips twirling a strand of his long hair: "You dare to trespass on my territory when you're exhausted? Do you people from the Unrepentant Temple use all your courage to court death?"
He paused, then glanced at you again: "Now that you're awake, continue. If I see you dozing off again... I'll make sure you're completely 'wake up'."
Ji Wang swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
He had no doubt that there were countless ways to make him "completely sober," and that none of them would likely be a pleasant experience.
"Yes...yes, senior." He resignedly picked up the cinnabar brush that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds again, took a deep breath, forced himself to focus his mind, and looked once more at the rune in the air that made him dizzy.
This time, however, he felt as if a gaze was constantly following him from above, a constant reminder—sleep? Forget about it.
When Ji Wang regained consciousness, it was already noon the next day.
Sunlight streamed through the broken window frames and holes in the roof, casting slanted beams of light into the dusty air.
He was still incredibly sleepy, his eyelids were so heavy he couldn't open them, and he felt as if his whole body had been taken apart and put back together.
He groggily reached down and touched the rough texture of woven straw, which seemed to be several futons that had been roughly pieced together to serve as a makeshift bed. No wonder it was more comfortable than lying directly on the ground.
He rolled over, and the area under his head was quite soft and fluffy, with an indescribable, cool scent, like crushed pine needles, which smelled quite nice.
He unconsciously rubbed his cheek against that soft mound, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Furry...
The cushion is made of straw, so how could it be fluffy...?
The thought flashed through his dazed mind like a bolt of lightning.
He froze abruptly, his fingers resting on the "pillow" involuntarily curling up slightly as he clearly felt the smooth, warm touch of fur on his fingertips.
This is not a meditation cushion!
Ji Wang instantly became fully awake, his eyes snapped open, and he sat up almost as if he had been ejected from the makeshift bed, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his throat.
He turned his head in horror to look at the spot where he had just been resting his head.
A fluffy, snow-white, and incredibly familiar fox tail lay quietly on the futon, its tip swaying slightly as he suddenly stood up.
"S-senpai?!"
Ji Wang's voice changed tone. He saw Bu Jiu sitting next to him, leaning against the base of the Buddha statue.
Sunlight fell on his profile, gilding his overly pale skin with a luminous glow, making even the fine downy hairs in his fox ears clearly visible.
He was holding the book "Illustrated Guide to Ghost Catching" in his hand, flipping through it idly, and only opened his eyes when he heard Ji Wang's exclamation.
"What are you yelling about?" Bu Jiu's tone was flat, revealing neither joy nor anger. "Did you sleep like a madman?"
Ji Wang's gaze was still fixed on the tail, his tongue stammering, "I...I...that...tail..."
Following his gaze, Bu Jiu glanced at his tail, which had been used as a pillow, frowned slightly, then relaxed: "You passed out last night. If I didn't cushion it, would I let your head hit a rock and make a sound?"
He closed the book in his hand and casually tossed it aside with a "thud," startling Ji Wang once again.
Bu Jiu stood up, patted his robes which were completely dust-free, and with a nimble flick of his long, snow-white tail, he silently disappeared behind him, as if he had never been there.
"You drooled all over my tail, really..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the contempt in his eyes was enough to make Ji Wang feel ashamed.
Ji Wang wished he could dig a hole and bury himself right there. He actually slept all night with the Ghost King's tail as a pillow... and... and even drooled...
"I'm sorry, senior! I... I didn't mean to!" He tried to get up from the futon in a fluster, but because he moved too fast and his legs were still weak, he almost fell back down.
Bu Jiu looked down at his disheveled state and gently reached out to help him up.
Once Ji Wang had regained his footing, he seemed to remember something, stopped walking away, and turned half of his face to the side.
“There’s water on the table,” he said. “Drink it and then go back.”
Ji Wang followed his gaze and saw that a rough earthenware bowl filled with water had appeared on the offering table at some point.
He stared blankly at the bowl of water, then at Bu Jiu's disappearing figure, his mind a jumbled mess.
He touched his head, where the furry touch and scent seemed to linger.
"Oh no..." he sighed, covering his face, feeling himself straying further and further from the path of a ghost hunter.
As his gaze wandered, he noticed a small stack of talisman paper next to the ceramic bowl. The yellow paper was crumpled, with some charred and curled edges; it was his "masterpiece" that he had ruined countless times last night.
He didn't pay much attention at first, and planned to clean up the junk as before, so as not to offend the Ghost King.
But when he casually picked up the top one, his movement suddenly stopped.
The talisman was still the same talisman, with his crooked, lifeless handwriting on it. However, a few more strokes were added to those childish strokes.
Those strokes were made with the same vermilion, but the color was deeper. The brushstrokes were sharp, decisive, and powerful, covering the areas where he had made mistakes.
The originally broken energy channels were forcibly connected, the distorted structure was cleverly corrected, and in some places only a few strokes were added, making the whole talisman feel completely different.
Ji Wang's heart pounded, and he quickly flipped through the talisman paper below.
One, two, three... Every single talisman he discarded was modified with brushstrokes that penetrated the paper.
Some only corrected one or two key strokes, while others almost completely redrawn the skeleton from his original scribbles, forcibly putting a lump of mud on the wall.
This...this was all changed by the Ghost King? After I fell asleep?
Ji Wang held the stack of talismans that had suddenly become heavy, his feelings a jumble of emotions.
In an instant, the image of Bu Jiu sitting in the Buddha's lap, frowning and looking disgusted, pinching a cinnabar brush with his long, cold fingers and scribbling on discarded talismans flashed through his mind.
Just thinking about it made Ji Wang feel horrified.
"A useless sect, as expected, can only produce little trash like you who can't even draw a red line properly."
The cold mockery of Bu Jiu from last night still echoed in my ears, yet these carefully modified talismans were clearly displayed here.
Ji Wang was stunned for a moment, then suddenly snapped out of it. As if afraid of being discovered, he hurriedly pulled out a few of the most modified talismans from the stack of papers, which seemed barely usable, and quickly stuffed them into his pocket like a thief, hiding them tightly against his inner shirt.
After doing all this, he finally let out a long sigh of relief, as if he had found some incredible treasure.
He picked up the bowl of water and gulped it down. The cool liquid slid down his throat, slightly calming the heat and panic in his heart.
He picked up his pen again, recalling the runes in mid-air last night, but his eyes were completely different from last night.
There was less confusion and more determination there.
He licked his still somewhat dry lips and muttered to himself, as if trying to convince someone: "I...I'll try again."
Inside the hall, Ji Wang was struggling with the talisman, the tip of his brush hovering above the yellow paper, trembling slightly.
He tried hard to recall the feeling of the hand guiding his pen last night, and the powerful corrections he saw this morning.
Outside the hall, under the dilapidated eaves, Bujiu had not gone far.
He leaned against the mottled vermilion pillar, his gaze falling quietly through the broken window lattice onto the boy scratching his head inside the hall.
“If you ask me…” a voice with a hint of amusement rang out from the side. A man in a long robe had appeared beside Bu Jiu, leaning casually against the opposite pillar, twirling a flower branch he’d picked from who-knows-where. “He’s found you again. That’s fate.”
The man was handsome, with a smiling face and a gentle aura, which was completely out of place with the dilapidated ancient temple and the eerie aura emanating from Bu Jiu.
His gaze followed Bu Jiu's and fell into the hall. Looking at Ji Wang's clumsy profile, he shook his head: "Even if you avoid him this time, what about next time? The karma is entangled, you can't avoid it. What's the use?"
Bu Jiu pursed his lips tightly.
He didn't look away, still watching the boy in the hall who had been rekindled in his fighting spirit by the few talismans he had modified, but was now frustrated by his inability to draw the desired effect, pulling at his hair in distress.
After a long silence, he spoke very softly, with a barely perceptible bitterness in his voice: "Perhaps... the ending would be different this way."
He lowered his head and opened his palm. The hand was pale and slender, with rounded fingertips. It was this same hand that had covered Ji Wang's hand last night, guiding him to draw the correct strokes.
It was this same hand that held the cinnabar pen, meticulously revising those scraps of paper until late at night.
The bitter smell of cinnabar still seemed to linger on his fingertips, as well as something he himself didn't want to think about.
The man paused slightly as he turned the flower branch, and a hint of inquiry appeared in his eyes as he looked at Bu Jiu.
"Different?" he repeated softly. "Bujiu, you know in your heart that some things were destined from the very beginning..."
"Enough." Bu Jiu interrupted him, withdrawing his gaze from the hall and turning his back to the window, shutting Ji Wang out of his sight. "My affairs are none of your concern."
Just then, Ji Wang seemed to finally find his footing, and the turn in his writing became a little smoother than before. His face instantly lit up with joy. Although the rune was still immature overall, at least it wasn't so bad.
Although Bu Jiu didn't look again, the slightly excited voice still clearly reached his ears.
His fingers, hanging at his sides, curled slightly.
Seeing his expression, the man finally smiled and handed him the flower branch: "Alright, I won't say anything more. I just picked it outside, it still looks alive, perfect for this lifeless place."
Bu Jiu glanced at the delicate, vibrant flower and coldly said, "Meddlesome."
With that, he flicked his sleeve, and his figure vanished like mist, leaving only the white-robed man standing there, holding the flower. He shook his head at the empty pillars, then glanced at Ji Wang inside the hall, who was completely unaware of what was happening, and sighed.
“Foolish child…” he murmured, releasing his fingers. The flower branch floated down and landed right where Bu Jiu had just stood.
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