Chapter 53 Peaceful
After Wen Rensu finished the task assigned by the sect, he walked closer to the house and found Ling Zheng sitting at the doorstep. A light green silk satin covered his eyes and was wrapped around his head. He was wearing a simple gray and white gauze dress with a corset of the same color tied around his waist, which made him look quite peaceful.
It is clearly the most common attire for common people, but when worn by Ling Zheng, he looks like a young master who is independent from the world. Who could have guessed that he was once a famous and moody master of witchcraft?
In this situation and scene, the years are peaceful and quiet.
Even when Wen Rensu approached, Ling Zheng remained motionless, his head leaning against the door frame, his fair cheeks a faint pink, suggesting he was asleep. In his hand, he held a simple clay xun, resting on his knees.
When Wen Rensu saw this pottery xun, he was reminded of the time three months ago when Ling Zheng first arrived.
There is nothing else Ling Zheng can do here except cooking and washing clothes. His dantian is broken and he cannot practice martial arts, so he has nothing to do every day.
Wen Rensu brought Ling Zheng a clay xun. At that time, they had only lived together for a few days, and the atmosphere was still cold.
"I'll give it to you to play with." Wen Rensu placed the clay flute on the table, and it made a soft muffled sound.
Her eyelashes, concealed by the silk, trembled, confused by Wen Rensu's sudden gesture of goodwill. Following the sound of the tabletop, Ling Zheng felt a round, cool object with several regular holes on it.
"What is this?" Ling Zheng asked softly. He had never been a scholar, nor did he know much about music, let alone the clay xun.
After hearing this, Wen Rensu took it without a word, and seemingly inadvertently, his fingertips brushed the back of Lingzheng's hand. He placed the clay xun under his lips and blew a few simple melodies, the sound simple and ethereal.
Ling Zheng thought he was twirling his fingertips secretly, but then a beautiful piece of music interrupted his thoughts.
The melody is beautiful and rhythmic, just like the sound of a clear mountain spring, flowing and melodious.
He listened quietly, and after a moment's silence, he said, "I don't know how to play. Take it back."
"I'll teach you." Wen Rensu put the clay flute back into Ling Zheng's hand, walked behind him and leaned over, moving his fingertips slightly to guide Ling Zheng's gestures, "First, cover all the finger holes."
Enveloped in a long-lost, unfamiliar scent, she could smell his faint, cool fragrance, like a breeze blowing through cedar trees, elegant and refreshing. Ling Zheng's breathing became disordered, and he frowned slightly, feeling secretly annoyed.
Didn't Wen Rensu dislike him? Why did he act like this? Was he in a good mood and didn't care, or did he treat him like a kitten or puppy, to be summoned and dismissed at will?
"Sit up straight. Come, blow out a breath gently." Wen Rensu's tone was gentle, which made Ling Zheng very uncomfortable. This inexplicable harmony seemed to bring him back to the past.
What is this?
Seeing Ling Zheng in a daze, Wen Rensu uttered a "Hmm?", as if he didn't realize that this posture was too intimate.
This voice brought Ling Zheng back to his senses. He sneered, "Are you free?"
As soon as he said this, Ling Zheng was stunned for a moment, then he thought of something and showed his arrogance again, as if he was still the amazing genius of witchcraft.
Many thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. No matter for what purpose, he didn't want Wen Rensu to release more extra goodwill towards him, which would make his previous deception seem even more despicable.
It would be better to just let Wenrensu know that he shouldn't be soft-hearted and show kindness to a villain like him. Just keep the previous verbal deal.
At that time, the bridges will return to bridges and the roads will return to roads.
As expected, Wen Rensu's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of resentment etched into his dark pupils. Ling Zheng was truly so cold and indifferent that even his "lifesaver" couldn't change his mind.
"Ling Zheng, if you really hate me so much, you shouldn't have fainted in front of my door." Wen Rensu said calmly, the sarcasm in his words was obvious.
Listening to the almost questioning words, Ling Zheng sat indifferent, like a piece of cold stone that could never be warmed up, but his fingers were rubbing it imperceptibly.
If Ling Zheng had made any attempt to make amends, Wen Rensu wouldn't have gotten angry. But seeing Ling Zheng's nonchalant expression, he inexplicably felt some genuine anger. After taking a deep breath, he said:
"I pity you, but you don't show me favor. Fine, just treat it as my own wishful thinking this time." After saying that, Wen Rensu turned away. He also needed to calm down and adjust his next strategy.
A few nights ago, Wen Rensu was half-pretending to be angry and carried Lingzheng to bed. Lingzheng's non-resistance gave him the false impression that Lingzheng was beginning to adapt to him.
But when Wen Rensu wanted to make further progress, Ling Zheng suddenly grew a thorn from nowhere and hit him on the head.
After leaving, he didn't return until the evening. As soon as he entered the door, he could smell the aroma of food. Ling Zheng still cooked dinner honestly.
That’s right, even if you don’t eat it, he will eat it too.
Hearing the noise, Ling Zheng, who was sitting on his usual bamboo chair, subconsciously turned his head, but then forced himself to hold it back.
There is a bowl of rice in front of the table and opposite it, and the shapes look complete.
Wen Rensu snorted coldly and sat down opposite Ling Zheng with an expressionless face.
The only sound on the table was the gentle clink of chopsticks against dishes. It seemed as if they had been chatting casually just a few days before, but now they were in an awkward silence.
Isn't this exactly what I want? No longer connected to Wenrensu.
Ling Zheng pulled up a barely perceptible sneer at the corner of his mouth.
The days passed in a monotonous manner, becoming extremely boring. Ling Zheng was unfamiliar with the place, and his body had not yet fully recovered. The darkness before him was still dark, and his range of movement was limited to this small space.
After the last cold war, Wen Rensu hadn't disposed of the clay flute, and it was still in Lingzheng's possession. While Wen Rensu was out, Lingzheng hesitated for a moment, quietly dug it out of the haystack, and tried to play it.
“Hu~Hu~”
The clay flute made a hollow sound.
Ling Zheng frowned and continued to try.
"call--"
He kept changing the shape of his mouth and the angle of the pottery xun, concentrating on it, but the sound was always wrong. After a while, he didn't hear Wen Rensu return quietly.
"Tighten the corners of your mouth slightly and lift them up, and stick out your tongue." Wen Rensu raised his eyebrows and observed slowly until he stopped behind Ling Zheng.
Like thunderclap out of the blue, Ling Zheng's hand trembled and his upper body suddenly sat up straight, but unexpectedly the back of his head hit Wen Rensu's chest with a loud "bang".
"Cough, cough, cough—" The sudden dull pain made Wen Rensu cough a few times, and then he said sarcastically: "Ling Zheng, you are really stubborn."
"You, why are you walking without making any sound?" Ling Zheng was a little weak. He fiddled with the pottery xun behind Wen Rensu's back. Not only did he catch someone red-handed, but he also bumped into the person involved. An embarrassed blush appeared on his face, and he quietly clutched his clothes.
Wen Rensu smiled and said, "What are you doing?"
Isn't this obvious? Ling Zheng muttered softly: "I'm bored, okay."
Wen Rensu finally let out a chuckle, then fell silent for a while, sat down leisurely, crossed his legs, and looked at Ling Zheng who was at a loss.
Ling Zheng's face was tense, his porcelain-white cheeks gradually turned red, and his hands were frozen with the clay flute, looking restless.
Suddenly, Ling Zheng spoke: "Wen Rensu, you teach me."
He figured it out. Since Wen Rensu was willing to be a good person and took the initiative to buy him a clay flute to entertain him, why should he refuse and make himself unhappy?
"But I don't want to teach anymore." Wen Rensu said in a neutral tone.
After saying this, Ling Zheng paused for a moment, not knowing how many thoughts flashed through his mind. His mouth moved very slightly, "Oh."
This reaction was so obedient, totally unlike Ling Zheng's style before he fell into trouble.
In fact, he was secretly annoyed at hearing people's complaints, and also secretly annoyed at himself.
In response, Wen Rensu further said, "In that case, the clay flute is useless. I'll just throw it away."
Is that really the case? Ling Zheng felt a sense of indescribable grievance, but he raised his chin and placed the warm clay flute on the table, making a clear clash of sounds.
At this time, Wenren Su heard two or three laughs.
What are you laughing at? Who cares about this broken clay flute? Ling Zheng complained inwardly, clenching his free hand into a fist.
Wen Rensu stood up and walked over to Ling Zheng, "Are you angry? I was just kidding."
He picked up the clay flute on the table and put it back into Ling Zheng's hands. He put his warm hands on the back of his own hands again, and used the force to lift the clay flute to his lips and hold it there.
"Blow." Wenren complained.
He pursed his lips and blew out a breath reluctantly.
“Huh~!”
A tone that was not pleasant to the ear was heard, and it suddenly stopped with a sharp ending.
Although Ling Zheng was not familiar with music, this obvious broken tone was still very easy to identify, and it was even worse than when he practiced secretly at the beginning.
The other person's aura still made Ling Zheng nervous.
"Relax your throat and let the breath flow more steadily. Come on, blow again."
Without time to feel ashamed, Ling Zheng was in a daze and let Wen Rensu coax him into blowing him again.
“Woo——”
"Hmm, very good. Steady your breath and blow a little longer."
…
Gradually, Ling Zheng became less stiff in Wen Rensu's arms and followed the instructions carefully. After all, he was Long Aotian, who was favored by God and had an extraordinary talent for learning. He quickly found the trick.
But... the atmosphere was strangely harmonious, and Ling Zheng's heart was beating wildly. He felt something was not right in this situation. He had expected Wen Rensu to treat him coldly, and occasionally with sarcasm, just like before.
But now, Wen Rensu seemed to have taken the wrong medicine, and patiently taught him to play the pottery xun, as if his previous malice was a complete illusion, or perhaps, now it was an illusion?
Maybe it was because he had been practicing for too long, but Ling Zheng felt dizzy as if he was lacking oxygen. In his mind, the only thing he could hear was Wen Rensu's earnest teachings, and the faint, cold fragrance from his body, which lingered in his nose.
After that, it was as if their Ren and Du meridians were opened up, and there was a sense of reconciliation between them, and the atmosphere gradually warmed up.
Wen Rensu's thoughts returned to the present.
With a hint of evil taste in his mouth, he suddenly pinched Ling Zheng's nose with his hand. Not long after, his face wrinkled up and he slapped away the evil hand.
"Wenren Su, are you still a child?" Although Ling Zheng's tone was vicious, his voice was a little sticky as he had just woken up, adding a little illusion of resentment.
Wen Rensu avoided answering and handed the hen they bought at the market to Ling Zheng. "We're having fried chicken today."
The hen was still struggling and screaming "cluck, cluck". Ling Zheng stood up, patted the dust off his butt, pinched the hen's neck, and twisted it with a little force. The hen died very quickly.
From killing people like crazy to killing meat like crazy, Ling Zheng also felt the impermanence of life, but his mood became more and more peaceful.
It seems that there is nothing wrong here.
This thought suddenly came to Ling Zheng's mind, and he suddenly stopped plucking the chicken feathers. He shook off the stickiness on his hands and smiled at himself.
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