For some inexplicable reason, Qin Shu suddenly felt anxious. He left Zhang Jia Le behind and quickened his pace out of the bathroom.
When he returned to the unusually quiet classroom, he spotted Pei Zhao at once.
Sure enough, Pei Zhao was sitting in his usual seat with his head lowered, working through problems. The handful of other students scattered around the room had only just come back after tiring themselves out and were sprawled across desks and chairs, resting while playing on their phones. They heard Qin Shu’s footsteps but did not even bother looking up.
Qin Shu slipped in through the back door as quietly as possible, pulled out his chair, and sat down. Then he leaned over, rested his head against Pei Zhao’s shoulder, and whispered, “I’m back.”
“Had enough fun?” Pei Zhao put away his pen, as though he already knew exactly what Qin Shu was about to say.
Qin Shu patted the hilt of the machete hanging from his waist, producing a faint sound. “Ah… I met a whole bunch of yao cultivators, drank a ton of rice wine, fought several rounds of arm wrestling, then spent half an hour chatting with the City God. Somehow the Gui Gong’s machete ended up in my hands too.”
Even though most of it had only just happened, when Qin Shu recounted the inexplicable string of events, it still felt like a dream.
But the moment Pei Zhao heard that Qin Shu had been drinking, his entire body suddenly tensed. He slowly turned his head. “You don’t look drunk.”
“Don’t be so guarded around me. The City God gave me spirit tea, so I sobered up. Really, really.”
Qin Shu laughed, then immediately continued with great enthusiasm, “Oh, right! Zhaozhao, guess what? The tea merchant who sells the spirit tea is actually Boss Lin from that teahouse behind the school. This incredibly handsome yao cultivator has a crush on him, so tomorrow I’m going to be his wingman. I’ll tell you the whole story later… Want to go out for lunch together?”
Pei Zhao listened with lowered eyes. Finally, he raised a hand and pinched Qin Shu’s cheek, pressing his icy fingertips against Qin Shu’s slightly warm face to check whether his temperature was within a normal range.
After a moment, once he confirmed that Qin Shu truly was not drunk, Pei Zhao relaxed almost imperceptibly and lifted his eyes. “All right. I bought the roast chicken.”
He pointed toward the desk drawer. The roast chicken stuffed inside was wrapped in a paper box, a little hot oil seeping through it as a faint fragrance drifted out.
“Hm? Oh, right. We still have to bring Mr. Xu something to eat…”
Qin Shu froze for a second, then voluntarily pressed his face into Pei Zhao’s palm and narrowed his eyes in contentment. “There’s an event tonight, so Mr. Xu probably hasn’t gotten off work yet. How about we go now? We can call it a late-night snack.”
“Fine.” Pei Zhao had no objection. He was about to pull his hand away when Qin Shu grabbed his wrist.
Qin Shu stared into those beautiful golden eyes, which had widened slightly in surprise, and could not bear to let go. “One minute. Just let me stay like this for one more minute…”
Pei Zhao said nothing. He simply treated Qin Shu’s strange behavior as the result of having drunk earlier. The two of them remained frozen in that odd position until, somehow, considerably more than one minute seemed to have passed.
Only when more and more classmates returned to collect their things, making it inconvenient to talk, did Qin Shu reluctantly sling on his backpack, pick up the fragrant roast chicken, and leave the classroom with Pei Zhao.
After going downstairs, they avoided the bustling night-market street and wandered along a quieter path, stopping here and there as they continued talking.
Naturally, Qin Shu did most of the talking. His mind was still full of questions and experiences he had not yet had the chance to tell Pei Zhao about.
“Why did I suddenly get sucked into the ghost market while you were completely fine?”
“Because I didn’t want to go to the ghost market, so I didn’t go.” The darkness concealed Pei Zhao’s expression, but his answer was perfectly calm, straightforward, and simple.
“What? Zhaozhao, that’s awful. Cruel! Fine, fine, I know why you didn’t want to go… Those wandering ghost customers were creepy. I felt uncomfortable whenever they got close, and the yao cultivators all smelled incredibly strong. Even I got dizzy from it. You definitely wouldn’t have been able to stand it.”
Qin Shu knew Pei Zhao disliked noisy places and even somewhat hated crowds, but he still could not stop himself from adding, “I only wanted to walk around with you. It’s no fun going by myself when you aren’t there. Come with me next time if we get the chance. If we run into any treasures of heaven and earth that would benefit you, I really don’t want you to miss out.”
“What could possibly benefit me?” Pei Zhao asked faintly.
“You missed out on the spirit tea the City God gave me tonight. What a shame. But it’s fine—we should be able to drink some tomorrow. That handsome yao cultivator I told you about is coming. His name is Huang Yuyuan, and he’s really easy to get along with.”
“Qin Shu, I don’t lack things like that.” Pei Zhao tugged at his sleeve, faint helplessness entering his voice. “The hand cream I gave you contains far more spiritual energy than products sold on the market.”
“…Huh? I actually suspected that, but I never got around to asking you. So can I eat the hand cream? Can I taste a little?”
As Qin Shu asked curiously, he felt Pei Zhao tug harder on his sleeve, almost as if Pei Zhao desperately wanted to hit him but was silently restraining himself.
Cute.
Sure enough, Pei Zhao sounded increasingly speechless. “You can. There’s just no reason to. You don’t need these things either.”
“Zhaozhao, has anyone ever told you that you have a really good temper?”
“…”
“Hahahahaha! I’m not actually going to eat it. Spirit tea probably won’t help me get stronger, but it still has other uses.” Qin Shu gently pried open Pei Zhao’s tightening fingers, took his hand, and continued explaining as though nothing had happened. “If I get drunk, drinking some spirit tea can sober me up quickly. That could be really important in an emergency.”
Pei Zhao did not resist. Instead, he suddenly paused, apparently finding the spirit tea’s sobering effect extremely convincing. “You’re right. I never considered that before. How much spirit tea do they have? I’ll buy all of it for you. With that much spiritual energy in it, drinking it won’t be a waste either. We can keep the whole supply as hangover tea.”
“Wait, wait, wait. That’s really not necessary! Zhaozhao, exactly how much do you hate what I’m like when I’m drunk?” Qin Shu stared at him in shock. It was rare to see Pei Zhao this proactive about anything.
Pei Zhao said nothing. He simply stared at Qin Shu without expression until Qin Shu began to feel guilty and silently turned his head away again.
Nothing needed to be said. Qin Shu knew perfectly well what he was like. Alcohol would not completely destroy his rationality, but it would endlessly magnify his thoughts, desires, and impulses.
He simply loved clinging to Pei Zhao. He loved watching Pei Zhao become helpless under his pestering, loved seeing a flush appear on that cold, pale face and drawing out more vivid expressions, and loved the fact that Pei Zhao was willing to indulge him and him alone.
It probably sounded rather unpleasant when put into words, almost a little mean… but Qin Shu enjoyed that privilege.
Pei Zhao had given it to him, and Pei Zhao could take it back whenever he wanted. But before that happened, Qin Shu had already been thoroughly spoiled by him. Taking it back now would no longer be so simple.
“It’s not that I hate it. It troubles me. I don’t like the feeling of losing control.”
Only when they reached the door of the school infirmary did Pei Zhao suddenly answer in a low voice.
“You don’t like losing control. Hmm.” Qin Shu repeated his words, then curved his lips into a smile. “So I can make you lose control.”
“…And that’s supposed to be a good thing? Why are you smiling so happily?”
“Ah, Zhaozhao. You wouldn’t understand.”
Qin Shu hummed smugly to himself, stepped forward with the roast chicken, and knocked on the door. “Mr. Xu, are you there? It’s Qin Shu. I brought you a roast chicken.”
The instant he mentioned roast chicken, the door opened.
Xu Min’s eyes were unusually bright as he stared fixedly at the source of the delicious smell in Qin Shu’s hands. The greedy animal instinct in his gaze was completely exposed, and he made no attempt to hide it.
Then his gaze drifted past Qin Shu toward the person standing behind him.
His entire body froze.
Even his eyes instantly went blank.
With a thump, Xu Min’s legs went weak beneath him and he dropped straight to his knees. Several tufts of his hair sprang upright as though his fur had puffed up. His face deathly pale, he slowly and laboriously began inching backward into the infirmary.
Qin Shu jumped in surprise. He hurriedly set down the roast chicken and reached out to help him. “…Mr. Xu, what are you doing? Get up, get up!”
Xu Min recoiled from his hand in terror. Moving with the agility of a frightened animal, he rapidly retreated and hid half his body behind the desk, yet did not dare conceal himself completely.
Clinging to the desk leg with only half his face visible, he suddenly burst into tears without warning. The soft, feminine quality of his voice could no longer be concealed as he sobbed.
“W-Wuwu… I was wrong. I shouldn’t have disguised myself as a human and come to No. 2 High School to work as a teacher. I really haven’t hurt anyone. I-I’ve never absorbed anyone’s yang energy. I just like smelling young humans sometimes, but I’ve absolutely never drained any… Wuwu, I’ll leave right now. Please spare me, wuwuwu…”
Elio’s Notes: Yang energy (阳气) is the warm, vital counterpart to yin energy in traditional Chinese cosmology. In supernatural fiction, certain spirits or creatures may strengthen themselves by draining a living person’s yang energy.
He sounded so frightened and wronged that anyone who did not know better might genuinely think Qin Shu had done something terrible to him.
Qin Shu could barely stand watching him. The whole situation made him deeply uncomfortable, so he quickly interrupted while Xu Min was still sobbing. “Mr. Xu, I’m not here to cause trouble this time. I specifically came to apologize. Get up. Roast chicken tastes best while it’s hot.”
“R-Really?” Xu Min’s eyes immediately drifted toward the roast chicken in Qin Shu’s hand. Frightened yet tempted, he weakly glanced at Pei Zhao leaning against the doorway and asked in a small voice, “D-Does that student think so too?”
“Why would I lie to you? He’s the one who told me I should apologize to you in the first place. His name is Pei Zhao. He’s the academic representative in our class.”
Xu Min accidentally met Pei Zhao’s eyes and immediately trembled again. The tufts of hair standing on his head became even more obvious. “…Hello, Student Pei… Sorry, sorry… I always stay obediently inside the school infirmary. I’ve never run around causing trouble, wuwu…”
Why is he crying again?
Qin Shu helplessly continued, “This ordinary roast chicken tonight is an extra apology. I shouldn’t have gotten physical with you before properly investigating the situation, and I shouldn’t have threatened or frightened you. You’re my teacher, after all. Regardless of differences in species or whether someone belongs to yin or yang, basic respect is still necessary.”
“Mm-hm, it’s fine, really… Wuwu, I don’t mind. I really don’t!”
“…All right. Then get up, Mr. Xu. An apology is an apology, and payment is payment. I’ll still bring you the crispy-skinned roast chicken from Liu & Li’s tomorrow. If there’s anything else you want to eat, I’ll buy that too.”
As he spoke, Qin Shu placed the roast chicken on the desk and stepped backward, leaving Xu Min some room to breathe.
Xu Min was clearly doing his best to control his emotions. He cautiously retreated another step as well. “Student Qin, you’re a good person. The roast chicken is enough. Thank you…”
“One last thing, Mr. Xu. Are you going to the Dragon Mother’s birthday banquet?” Qin Shu touched his sleeve, took the black pearl from the little centipede, and waved it. “Look. Even the City God has allowed me to attend your yao cultivator gathering. I really won’t hurt you again.”
Xu Min froze. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he even forgot to cry. “That’s a thousand-year clam pearl?! Student Qin, h-how did you qualify to enter?”
“There was a competition in the ghost market to select guards. I tried it and got picked.” Qin Shu put the pearl away and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. “So, Mr. Xu, you believe me now, right? I really don’t mean you any harm.”
“I understand. I do. Just… let me recover for a moment… If the Xu clan still has places available for the birthday banquet, I’ll try my best to get one. Um, may I ask… you two students… am I allowed to contact members of the Xu clan while I’m at No. 2 High School? I won’t use any techniques. I’ll contact them by phone.”
As Xu Min continued, his voice grew smaller and smaller, trembling all the while.
The way he was being so excessively cautious was downright bizarre. He had not acted this terrified even when the eyeball was pressed against his face last time.
Qin Shu turned his head slightly and gave Pei Zhao a thoughtful look before helplessly answering, “As long as you don’t hurt innocent people and you do your job properly, you don’t need our permission for anything else. Do whatever you want. I’m a student at No. 2 High School. Normally I’m supposed to listen to you, Mr. Xu.”
“…Haha. I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare…”
After an extremely headache-inducing conversation, Qin Shu gradually reached the end of his patience.
After encountering so many yao cultivators in the ghost market, he had become thoroughly familiar with that furry-animal smell. At this point, he could practically smell Xu Min’s unstable mental state.
Once he had said everything he needed to say, Qin Shu immediately grabbed Pei Zhao’s hand and hurriedly said goodbye. Outside, he breathed in the cold, fresh air of the No. 2 High School campus and finally relaxed.
Perhaps Xu Min had also heaved an enormous sigh of relief, but Qin Shu wished he could put a good thirty meters between them. He had originally planned to chat with Mr. Xu about what he had seen in the ghost market, but… for now, he truly did not want anything more to do with a fox whose fur was standing on end.
They left the school infirmary behind and stepped onto a quiet path, walking side by side toward the dormitory just as they did on any ordinary night.
Qin Shu remained silent for a moment, then draped an arm over Pei Zhao’s shoulders and tilted his head toward him. “Zhaozhao, what exactly do you think he’s scared of? I don’t think it’s me.”
Pei Zhao was much better than Qin Shu at avoiding noise. He had stopped approaching the moment Xu Min began sobbing and never made any attempt to join the conversation.
His mental state was therefore quite stable. Even with Qin Shu hanging heavily around his shoulders, Pei Zhao simply leaned a little closer to accommodate him and answered calmly, “Then he’s afraid of me. That’s normal.”
“…Oh.”
Qin Shu was rendered speechless and had no idea how to respond. Pei Zhao really was something. Either he said nothing at all, or the moment he opened his mouth, he was so straightforward it was frightening. Qin Shu did not even get the chance to probe delicately.
He looked at Pei Zhao: the calm, unconcerned expression on his face, the delicate contours outlined by alternating moonlight and streetlamps, the black lashes spread against his pale skin like ink bleeding across snow.
Qin Shu’s heart skipped.
A thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
I should try it. If I enter that intensely focused state again, the one that feels as though time has stopped, what exactly will I see when I look at Pei Zhao?
Qin Shu quietly drew a breath and recalled how it had felt when his mind was steeped in alcohol. He exerted every bit of mental strength he could muster and concentrated all of it onto a single point.
He had expected Pei Zhao to become clearer in his vision. Instead, after several breaths, Pei Zhao’s face gradually began to blur. Rings of black, white, and gray swirled across his sight as though he were sinking into a hallucination.
“This is ‘See Through,’ a soul technique. Cultivate it to mastery and one person can stand against ten thousand troops. Time does not stop for you. Your speed of thought is accelerating. As it accelerates without limit, all manner of extraordinary illusions naturally arise.”
A distant voice sounded beside Qin Shu’s ear, at once familiar and unfamiliar.
Qin Shu jumped and looked around, yet there was no one to be seen. The voice continued.
“…See through another person’s vital weaknesses in an instant and rapidly determine the path to victory. The principle is simple.
“With sufficient offensive means to match it, even if the armies of South Heaven Gate marched out in full force, defeating them one by one would be no problem. If you still can’t win, then you’re simply too weak. Don’t blame the divine ability.”
Elio’s Notes: South Heaven Gate (南天门) is the great southern entrance to the celestial realm in Chinese mythology, commonly portrayed as a principal gateway into the Heavenly Court.
Qin Shu rubbed his ear, confirming that this was not his imagination.
He abruptly gripped Pei Zhao’s shoulder. His eyes had become inexplicably dry, but he forced himself to keep looking through the distorted, chaotic vortex, trying to see Pei Zhao clearly again. In a low voice, he asked, “Zhaozhao, can you hear—”
Before he could finish, Qin Shu genuinely saw something on the other side of the vortex.
It was not Pei Zhao, but a pair of vertical pupils intertwined with gold and red, set in a face that was neither human nor beast. A pair of dark horns crowned its head, branching high like the antlers of a stag.
Through the blur, Qin Shu could just make out an enormous body that seemed almost endless. Serpentine yet dragonlike, it lay silently coiled within a pitch-black chamber. Only the golden scales covering its body shimmered with brilliant light—and among them were countless reverse scales.
Elio’s Notes: A dragon’s reverse scale (逆鳞) is an inverted scale traditionally associated with a dragon’s most sensitive and dangerous point. In Chinese lore, touching or offending it is said to provoke the dragon’s fury. This creature notably appears to possess many of them.
Beneath those vast expanses of reverse scales seemed to lie innumerable tiny chains. Their hooks dug deep between scale and flesh, layers of blood seeping around them in an eerie sight.
This unknown being, distant and imprisoned inside a dark chamber, was extremely dangerous.
Qin Shu instinctively stopped speaking. A chill crawled over the back of his neck as he tried to look away.
But those gold-and-red eyes had already keenly settled on Qin Shu. The gaze swept across him as though he were nothing more than an ant, yet it alone was enough to leave Qin Shu struggling to breathe.
“Do not peer into the Nine Domains.”
Elio’s Notes: Nine Domains (九域) is introduced here as a new proper term. The story has not yet explained what it refers to, and Qin Shu himself immediately questions whether it is related to Nine Nether (九幽), so the two are being kept distinct.
The simple sentence sounded like thunder, making Qin Shu’s ears ache, yet he could feel no hostility or killing intent whatsoever.
He doesn’t want to kill me. That’s enough!
Qin Shu had no idea where his courage came from, but he immediately forced himself to communicate with the being. Ignoring his wildly pounding heart, he blurted out every question that came to mind.
“Senior, may I ask where you are right now? Why can I suddenly hear your voice? Is it because I’m using the ‘See Through’ technique you mentioned? Where exactly are the Nine Domains? Are they the same thing as Nine Nether? You seem to be injured. Do you need help?”
“…”
“Oh, right. Are you a dragon? You look so cool.”
Qin Shu could swear he was not flattering him.
He had always liked enormous, mysterious, awe-inspiring creatures. He had not been afraid of the Mountain Lord’s giant eye at all and had actually wanted to see it more clearly… This time, admittedly, he was a little frightened.
But even while frightened, Qin Shu still had to admit that this dangerous senior was beautiful. Even those bloody, vicious-looking reverse scales were surrounded by golden light. They were especially striking.
“…These are not questions you should be asking yet. Go back.”
A nearly imperceptible sigh sounded. The other party seemed somewhat speechless from listening to him and paused before refusing in a faint, distant voice.
As soon as the words fell, Qin Shu’s world spun again. The gray-black-and-white chaotic vortex resurfaced before him and began rotating backward in an uncanny spiral, faster and faster.
Qin Shu had no power to resist. He could only watch helplessly as the mysterious dragonlike being gradually disappeared.
When his vision finally cleared again, another pair of beautiful, thoroughly speechless eyes appeared before him, staring at him without expression from only inches away.
Qin Shu discovered that he was tightly embracing Pei Zhao, their foreheads pressed together, standing right outside the entrance to the boys’ dormitory where the lights beneath the covered walkway illuminated them perfectly.
The dorm supervisor stood by the doorway with his arms folded, repeatedly glancing sideways at the two of them as though he desperately wanted to say something.
The younger students passing by looked even more horrified. They carefully detoured around the pair without daring to say a single word.
“Seen enough?”
Pei Zhao asked faintly.
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