A storm is brewing
After Ji Wang finished grilling the fish, he almost immediately wanted to go and ask Bu Jiu for credit.
Holding the branch he used to skewer the fish in one hand and dragging the other hand as if afraid the meat would fall off, he carefully made his way deeper into the cave.
After turning a small corner, he saw Bu Jiu sitting with his back to him in front of a smooth stone wall, so polished that it clearly reflected his image.
Bu Jiu was tilting her head slightly, her long hair hanging down, her arm raised, meticulously tying her hair up behind her head with that plain white jade hairpin.
The section of his neck that was usually half-hidden in his hair was now fully exposed, with a few strands of hair that hadn't been completely tied up hanging down on the side of his neck, swaying gently with his movements.
He straightened his hair, tidied his sideburns, and noticed Ji Wang's overly focused gaze from the reflection in the light. So he turned his head slightly and looked at the dazed man with a hint of inquiry.
"Hmm?" A simple syllable brought Ji Wang back to his senses.
Ji Wang snapped out of his daze and met Bu Jiu's questioning eyes, his heart belatedly skipping a beat.
He blurted it out almost instinctively, his voice slurred yet burning with sincerity: "How could you..."
He seemed unable to find the right words, and in the end, he simply followed his most instinctive feeling: "...It looks good no matter what."
Bu Jiu clearly hadn't expected to receive such a blunt, almost reckless compliment. His fingers, which were tucking his hair, paused slightly, but he didn't respond to this silly remark.
Ji Wang quickly stepped forward, moved closer to Bu Jiu, and said with a grin, "Really, it looks amazing! How about you tie it up more often in the future?"
Without glancing to the side, she left him with only a weak and unthreatening remark: "...depends on my mood."
Ji Wang didn't push his luck, but instead waved the skewer of grilled fish in his hand like a treasure, golden oil dripping down and releasing an enticing aroma: "Want some? I grilled them really well—ah!"
Perhaps the movement was too large, the fish meat slipped off the tree branch and was about to fall to the ground.
Ji Wang reacted quickly and grabbed it. The scalding heat made him shudder, but he held on tightly and didn't let go.
He didn't even care that it was hot, and hurriedly held up the hand holding the small piece of fish in front of Bu Jiu, with a hint of seeking praise: "Quick! You caught it! Luckily it didn't drop!"
Bu Jiu lowered his gaze, which fell on the hand stained with a few specks of charcoal and oil. Although the small piece in his palm did look crispy, but…
He couldn't help but complain, "It's so dirty."
"I won't blame you—" Ji Wang's lips curled down, her eyes glistening as she looked at him, drawing out the words.
Seeing his expression, Bu Jiu gave up. He leaned forward slightly and, using Ji Wang's hand, took a small bite from the cleanest-looking spot on the top of the fish.
After the fish was eaten, Bu Jiu took a clean, soft cloth from the side and reached out to pull Ji Wang's wrist. He wiped the oil and charcoal ash off the man's hands.
When he touched the areas of skin that were slightly red from the burn, he lowered his head and blew on them.
A cool breeze brushed against his burning skin, and Ji Wang felt that the burning sensation was mostly dispelled.
"Go practice your sword." After Bu Jiu finished doing this, he threw the cloth on the table.
"Okay!" Ji Wang replied. He munched on the remaining roasted fish on the branch, following Bu Jiu with light steps. "Want to eat again tomorrow?"
"If I could be on the shore."
Reaching the open space in the center of the cave, Ji Wang looked at the longsword in his hand and scratched his head: "There's only one sword. Are you going to demonstrate it to me first?"
Bu Jiu casually picked up a wooden stick of uniform thickness and fairly straight shape from the pile of firewood next to him and held it in his hand: "Your comprehension isn't that bad, just follow me."
The moment those words left his mouth, Bu Jiu vaguely saw the figure in the Taoist robe, who also casually broke off a tree branch and said softly to him, who was barely able to maintain his human form, "Bu Jiu, watch carefully and do as I say."
Three hundred years have passed, and the one who clumsily imitated me back then has become a teacher. Truly…fate is unpredictable.
He calmed his mind and stopped thinking. Following the person's starting stance from his memory, he twirled his longsword in a light and standard sword flourish, then slightly turned his body and performed the first few sword moves.
He thought Ji Wang would need to read it several times to remember it, but to his surprise, as soon as he stood still, he heard Ji Wang say with some uncertainty, "Wait... this..." Ji Wang gripped the sword, as if thinking, "I think... I can."
Before he finished speaking, he imitated Bu Jiu's earlier movements and swung his longsword. Although the movements were slightly awkward, and even clumsy in some places due to incorrect force, the overall rhythm, angle, and even the spirit were exactly the same as what Bu Jiu had demonstrated, the one taught by that person three hundred years ago.
Bu Jiu's grip on the wooden stick tightened slowly.
Ji Wang looked at the sword in his hand, which seemed to have its own thoughts, and at the inexplicable sense of familiarity he felt with it. A reason that he thought was the most reasonable came to mind.
He looked enlightened, even with a hint of "I see," and said to Bu Jiu, "I understand! Master Yun Shen is the founding patriarch of our Bu Nian Temple! I must be one of his countless generations of disciples, with his thin blood flowing through my veins, which is why this sword technique looks familiar!"
The more he talked, the more sense it made, and he couldn't help but sigh, "No wonder those people kept chasing me; they were after the legacy of our ancestors!"
Bu Jiu: "..."
Looking at Ji Wang's self-righteous and seemingly insightful appearance, which was actually completely off track, Bu Jiu was momentarily at a loss for how to react.
He wanted to explain, but when he met Ji Wang's clear eyes, which held a hint of smugness, the image of Ji Wang from three hundred years ago intertwined with the appearance of the person before him, and in the end, he could only sigh.
Bu Jiu looked away, his tone indifferent as if he had given up the struggle: "...Think whatever you want."
Bu Jiu taught with focused concentration until the light filtering through the water curtain outside the cave completely dimmed, before he had roughly finished teaching a basic set of sword techniques.
He saw that Ji Wang's arm was hanging down more and more, his hand holding the sword was trembling slightly, and even his posture was swaying.
"What's wrong?" Bu Jiu stepped forward.
Ji Wang raised her slightly flushed face, her voice softer than usual, with a hint of nasal tone: "I have a fever."
Seeing that Bu Jiu looked nervous, he quickly added, "It's not that serious, it's just a little... Can I rest for a while?"
Bu Jiu reached out and touched his forehead with the back of his hand; it was indeed a little hot to the touch. He must have caught a chill from falling into the water that afternoon and then exhausted himself practicing swordsmanship.
"Please sit down first." Bu Jiu helped him to the bedside. "I'll go see if there's any medicine."
Ji Wang watched his hurried rummaging back, hugged her knees, buried her burning cheeks in her arms, and said in a muffled voice, "It's okay, I just caught a bit of a cold, I'll be fine after sweating it out."
Bu Jiu was flipping through the medicine bottle when he heard this, he paused, turned around and looked at him: "Then run two laps."
Ji Wang lifted his head from her arms, his eyes, wet with fever, filled with disbelief, and he even wondered if he was delirious from the fever and had misheard.
"I'm already like this..." he said, his voice filled with grievance, his cheeks flushed, making him look pitiful. "And you still want me to run laps?"
Bu Jiu returned with the medicine, looking down at him: "Didn't you say that sweating it out would be enough?"
Ji Wang was speechless at his words. He opened his mouth but couldn't find the words to refute him. He angrily swallowed the medicine that was handed to him.
Seeing Ji Wang's appearance, Bu Jiu couldn't bear to tease him anymore.
He rummaged through the rickety little cabinet by the bed and finally took out a neatly folded, thick and soft-looking white cloak.
Ji Wang touched the fluffy texture, his eyes lit up, and with a mix of feverish confusion and curiosity, he blurted out, "Fox fur?"
Bu Jiu paused, holding the cloak, then suddenly turned to look at him, her pupils widening slightly: "What are you saying?"
This reaction startled Ji Wang, who then belatedly realized what he had said—he had actually asked a fox if what it was holding was a fox fur coat.
"No...I..." Ji Wang hurriedly waved his hands, trying to explain that he just thought the fur looked warm and had absolutely no other meaning, but because of the fever, his mind was slow and he couldn't organize his words well. His cheeks turned even redder.
Bu Jiu took in his clumsy and flustered appearance, and was so angry that he laughed out loud. He sat down to the side and draped the cloak over Ji Wang's head: "It's cotton lined with rabbit fur! Wrap yourself up well!"
The cloak wrapped around Ji Wang, and after the fever reducer took effect, she felt weak all over. Almost instinctively, she leaned against Bu Jiu beside her.
When Bu Jiu lowered his eyes, he saw that fluffy head resting obediently on his shoulder. The face, which was usually always smiling and cheerful, was unusually quiet because of the fever.
His hand, which had been hovering in mid-air, hesitated for a moment before finally falling down, awkwardly stroking Ji Wang's back.
"Don't worry," Bu Jiu lowered his voice, "You'll be fine after a good night's sleep."
Ji Wang seemed to have taken his words to heart. Leaning against him, she drowsily adjusted to a more comfortable position, her tense body gradually relaxing. She mumbled indistinctly, "Tomorrow... I'll continue practicing..."
"Okay," Bu Jiu replied.
The person in his arms was still for a moment, their breathing becoming heavier. Just when Bu Jiu thought he had fallen asleep, Ji Wang spoke again as if in a dream: "After I become famous... I will carve your name and mine together..." He was delirious with fever, and his logic was adorably naive, "You also have the surname Ji... how about that?"
Bu Jiu lowered his eyes and remained silent for a moment: "It doesn't sound good."
“But…” Ji Wang nuzzled against his neck relentlessly, “You told me before that you didn’t have a surname because you didn’t have a family… Our Taoist temple will be your family. Don’t you… have the surname Ji?”
"What nonsense are you talking about?" Bu Jiu turned his head away, ignoring the people around him.
After Ji Wang fell into a deep sleep, Bu Jiu was able to slowly withdraw.
Seeing that night had fallen and he was wide awake, he was about to go outside to check if anything was amiss when a faint fragrance of flowers suddenly wafted through the cave.
He realized what was happening, raised his hand to catch a petal that had appeared out of thin air, and the petal transformed into a letter in his palm:
"Ten miles northwest, the spy of the Hunter's Division has been eliminated, but the 'Listening Bone' under the 'His Majesty's' command has arrived. They are skilled at sensing spiritual consciousness, so we must be cautious. Also: Is Xiao Bao alright?"
The writing flickered for three breaths before disappearing.
“Listening to the Bone…” he murmured the name. Three hundred years ago, the one who last fought against Daoist Yun Shen was none other than Listening to the Bone, who was most skilled at tracking the traces of souls.
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