Chapter 40#

I Beg You to Stay#

Sang Chiyu’s entire body stiffened, and he instinctively turned to flee. Just moments ago, right before reverting to his original form, he had used the Instant Shadow Displacement to escape from Su Ruhui’s room, burying himself in a snowdrift with his clothes in his mouth. He hadn’t expected Su Ruhui to open the door and catch his trail. Likely because he had only recently merged with the core and his body hadn’t fully accepted it yet, he not only couldn’t control his form, but he also found it extremely difficult to adapt every time he reverted. Suddenly becoming a four-legged beast, he didn’t even know how to walk; after struggling to run a few dozen paces in the snow, a shadow like a dark cloud suddenly loomed over him.

Su Ruhui had followed his plum-blossom paw prints. Before he could dodge, his four paws were in the air, and the entire cat was scooped into Su Ruhui’s fur-lined cloak. He flailed his four short legs in vain, already imprisoned in Su Ruhui’s embrace.

“Good baby,” Su Ruhui held him, “did you escape from the bad guys to come back and find your daddy?”

Sang Chiyu couldn’t break free from Su Ruhui’s grip and gradually felt despair. Actually, he could use secret techniques; the cat form didn’t restrict his spiritual power, but he didn’t want to reveal that he was a demon. Su Ruhui was so clever that he would surely guess the cat demon appearing out of nowhere in this courtyard was him, Sang Chiyu.

Su Ruhui carried Sang Baobao back. Sang Baobao was nestled in his arms like a large snowball. Su Ruhui tapped his cold little nose, “My baby was wronged. Do you blame daddy for not looking for you? From now on, daddy will set up a Ten-Direction Thunderfire Absolute Kill Star Array at home. Whoever dares to steal my son, I’ll have his dog life.” Su Ruhui returned to the room and brushed off the snow clinging to Sang Baobao. This cat was so clean; after being missing for a day outside, there wasn’t a speck of dust on him. He put Sang Baobao on the bed, muttering, “That coward Sang Chiyu, took off my pants and then did nothing. Ignore him, baby, let’s sleep.”

Though he said that, he couldn’t help but worry about that stubborn mule in his heart. Both the Demon Clan and the Mystic Sect were looking for him. Even if he escaped from the Great Jing in one breath, the Snow Realm was equally full of danger. Where would he rest tonight? His head felt heavy and groggy, and as he thought, he became sleepy. Despite the fever, waves of cold washed over him, especially his feet, which were frozen like two blocks of ice.

Sang Chiyu curled into a ball at the edge of the bed, his fluffy tail covering his face. He was hesitating whether to escape while Su Ruhui was asleep. He looked up at the windowsill; thick Korean paper covered the window frame, and in the darkness, the rustling shadows of snow were faintly visible. The snow was too heavy, and it was freezing outside; he had nowhere to go. Sang Chiyu listened to the sound of the snow, his heart desolate and empty, like a vast snow-covered plain. Perhaps being a cat was better; that way, he wouldn’t have to face Su Ruhui as Sang Chiyu. He had lost control earlier; he shouldn’t have been like that. Let the past entanglements go; from now on, whoever Su Ruhui seduced had nothing to do with him.

Su Ruhui was uncomfortably cold. Noticing Sang Baobao at the edge of the bed out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly had a mischievous idea. He sat up, moved Sang Baobao to the foot of the bed, covered him with the quilt, and then tucked his own feet under Sang Baobao’s belly. Now it was warm; the baby was nice and toasty, and fluffy too, making his feet feel very comfortable. Su Ruhui lay down happily and finally fell asleep.

Sang Chiyu: “…”

Sang Chiyu wanted to scratch his feet. His paw pads touched the soles of Su Ruhui’s feet—so cold. Sang Chiyu hesitated for a moment, then lay down resignedly, cradling Su Ruhui’s feet in his arms. In the latter half of the night, Su Ruhui slept fitfully, mumbling in his sleep. Sang Chiyu crawled out from under the covers and saw that a corner of the quilt had been kicked off, leaving most of Su Ruhui’s arm exposed. Sang Chiyu bit the corner of the quilt and dragged it back to cover him. He stepped on Su Ruhui’s face with his paw; it didn’t feel burning hot, just slightly warm. A cat’s body temperature is higher than a human’s; if Sang Chiyu felt it was warm, it meant Su Ruhui’s fever had risen again.

The wine jar brought over earlier was still under the bed, and the towel was on the stool. In his current cat form, with a cat’s biology, he couldn’t drink alcohol; it would be poisonous. He couldn’t bite the towel to dip it in the wine; it was too dangerous. He thought for a moment with his ears drooping, then bit open the wine stopper, turned his back, dipped his large tail into the wine, shook off the excess, hopped onto the bed, and used both paws to hold his tail to wipe Su Ruhui’s face and forehead. After doing this several times, he had wiped Su Ruhui’s entire body. Su Ruhui broke into a sweat, and Sang Chiyu stepped on his face again—he didn’t seem to be burning as much.

The heavy snow had stopped at some point. By the undulating moonlight, Sang Chiyu could see Su Ruhui’s sleeping face. Su Ruhui was fair-skinned; every time Sang Chiyu stepped on his face, a faint plum-blossom paw print was left on his cheek. He was only quiet and less annoying when he was asleep.

If only Su Ruhui would stay asleep forever, Sang Chiyu suddenly thought. If Su Ruhui never woke up, he wouldn’t go around flirting with others. He would guard Su Ruhui, like a little cat guarding its sleeping rose.

Seeing Su Ruhui stabilize, Sang Chiyu returned to the foot of the bed, crawled back under the covers, and hugged Su Ruhui’s feet.

When Su Ruhui woke up, it was broad daylight. Sunlight reflected through the window paper onto his face, trembling slightly like a bee. His head wasn’t dizzy anymore, and he felt much more energetic. In his hazy state last night, he seemed to have felt someone wiping his body, but his consciousness was groggy, like a dream. He turned his head and saw a man sitting at the edge of the bed, dressed in black, with his back to him, wringing a towel in a basin of water. Su Ruhui felt his forehead; a wet towel had been placed there to cool him down.

“This kid actually knows to come back,” Su Ruhui smiled and called out, “Sang—”

The man turned his face; it was Han Ye.

The remaining “Chiyu” got stuck in Su Ruhui’s throat, and he coughed violently.

Han Ye reached out to pat his back, “Feeling better?”

“Was it the Pavilion Master taking care of me?” Su Ruhui asked.

“Who else?” Han Ye lowered his head to wring the towel, humming, “I never take care of anyone. You’re the first.”

Su Ruhui gave a dry laugh, “I’ve troubled the Pavilion Master. Your consideration for your subordinates is the fortune of the Bliss Pavilion.”

Han Ye glanced at him, “I’m not that idle. Only you are lucky; I don’t care if others live or die.”

Su Ruhui sat up wrapped in the quilt. As the quilt shifted, Sang Baobao was revealed at the foot of the bed, curled into a ball in the innermost corner. Su Ruhui scooped him out. Han Ye smelled a scent of wine, raised an eyebrow and said, “Did this cat sneak a drink?”

“Did he?” Su Ruhui was startled.

“Smell for yourself, he reeks of wine,” Han Ye said.

Su Ruhui leaned in to sniff—he really did. No wonder he was so listless. Su Ruhui placed Sang Baobao on his lap and gently patted his little butt, “Little cats aren’t allowed to drink. You’re a bad baby.”

Su Ruhui didn’t know that the one who had taken care of him all night was the cat in front of him. Han Ye had come over in the morning and unintentionally took the credit for Sang Baobao. Since Sang Baobao didn’t speak, Su Ruhui had no way of knowing the truth. He only saw the cat struggle out of his embrace and huddle at the foot of the bed, refusing to let him touch or hold him.

“Cats can’t drink, right? Will the baby be okay?” Su Ruhui asked.

Han Ye said, “If he drank a lot, he would vomit. Since he hasn’t, he probably didn’t drink much, so he should be fine. It’s just a cat; if he dies, just hire another one. You should worry more about yourself.”

Su Ruhui was dissatisfied, “Don’t talk nonsense in front of the baby.”

Without the baby, where would he find such a beautiful big cat? He knelt up and forcibly pulled Sang Baobao into his arms, cradling him. Sang Baobao was pure white, with only the tips of his ears and nose tinged with a slight pink. His fur was fluffy, like a cloud from the sky that had descended to the mortal world. Su Ruhui planned to skip work while he was sick; he wanted to sew a cat bed for Sang Baobao and make a climbing frame for him to play on.

Han Ye looked down at Su Ruhui holding the cat. The way he held the cat was like holding an infant; Han Ye somehow felt that Su Ruhui was nursing a child. The more he looked, the more it seemed so, and Han Ye laughed silently. He thought the cat was indeed not bad, because his surname was Han.

“A-Qi, let me tell you something,” Han Ye suddenly said.

“What?” Su Ruhui looked up.

Han Ye’s voice was deep, “Su Ruhui is dead.”

Su Ruhui wasn’t surprised that Han Ye had the news. After the commotion at the Mystic Sect last night, the news of Su Ruhui passing away must have spread far and wide by now. Su Ruhui put on an expression of shock and grief, “How could this be? Pavilion Master, you must take care of yourself. Boss Su was handsome and kind-hearted; he’ll surely have a good rebirth in his next life.”

“Your acting is terrible, stop it,” Han Ye sneered, then paused and lost his smile, saying, “It’s a good thing he’s dead. There’s something I haven’t told anyone. The news I got before wasn’t just that Su Ruhui was still alive, but also that Dantai Jing, to extract the secrets in his mind, didn’t hesitate to use medicinal tonics to keep him hanging on. For five years. Is being like that even considered living? If he had any awareness, how much pain must he have been in?”

Sang Chiyu lay in Su Ruhui’s arms, silently opening his eyes.

Su Ruhui comforted him, “Look on the bright side. I believe Boss Su couldn’t feel anything.”

“I hope so,” Han Ye smiled faintly. “I hesitated for a long time whether to save him or kill him. Saving him meant he lived in pain; killing him meant giving him relief, I…”

“You couldn’t bring yourself to do it?” Su Ruhui asked.

Han Ye was silent for a while, then said, “Right, I couldn’t. Now that he’s dead and relieved, I don’t have to hesitate anymore. He was tortured by Dantai Jing for five years; he probably couldn’t hold on any longer himself.”

Han Ye’s information wasn’t complete; at least he didn’t know that Su Ruhui in the Immortal’s Cave had woken up once before he died. It was just as well; otherwise, he might have felt regret for not seeing Su Ruhui one last time. Su Ruhui felt touched in his heart; although this kid wasn’t a good person, he wasn’t some irredeemable bastard either. To have him remember him like this, Su Ruhui was quite moved.

“Laugh if you want,” Han Ye looked at him mockingly, “I know you’re happy.”

His love rival was dead; this kid must be overjoyed in his heart. Han Ye felt he saw right through him.

Su Ruhui was puzzled, “Why should I be happy?”

Han Ye took it as him playing dumb, stood up, and brushed his robes, “Recover well. Don’t think you can slack off just because Su Ruhui is dead; you still have to work for me.” He walked toward the door, then turned back after a few steps, “Your master is leaving, aren’t you going to see him off?”

“Am I not sick? With this chronic illness, I can’t get up. Please forgive me, Pavilion Master.” Su Ruhui covered his mouth and coughed.

Han Ye leaned against the doorframe, his gaze full of threat.

Su Ruhui helplessly put on his padded jacket, dragged his shoes, and saw Han Ye out. Sang Chiyu jumped off the k’ang and lay by the threshold watching them. Su Ruhui followed Han Ye to the veranda. Han Ye stopped, tightened Su Ruhui’s fur collar, and said, “Alright, this is far enough. Look at how frozen you are; that runny nose is disgusting.”

Su Ruhui cursed him a thousand times in his heart but still had to maintain a smiling face.

“Sang Chiyu hasn’t come looking for you, has he?” Han Ye confirmed once more.

“No.” Su Ruhui was as limp as a bean sprout.

“You’re not thinking about him in your heart, are you?” Han Ye narrowed his eyes.

“How could I? My heart is all yours.” Su Ruhui pledged his loyalty with his slick tongue.

These words reached Sang Baobao’s ears without missing a single one.

Han Ye was satisfied and said, “That’s good. If you dare to secretly collude with Sang Chiyu, see if I don’t break your legs.”

After bowing to see the “Great Buddha” off, Su Ruhui breathed a huge sigh of relief. He didn’t know what kind of wrong medicine this brat Han Ye had taken to be so targeted toward Sang Chiyu. To be honest, Su Ruhui had thought about revealing his identity, but the scene would be very awkward to think about. Su Ruhui couldn’t handle it, so he decided against it. With his hands tucked in his sleeves, he walked back into the room and didn’t see Sang Baobao. Su Ruhui was stunned for a moment, suddenly realizing he had forgotten to close the door when seeing Han Ye out. Cats love to run; Sang Baobao must have run off somewhere. Extremely frustrated, Su Ruhui put on his clothes, wrapped himself in a fox fur, and went out to look. He searched the entire courtyard but couldn’t find a single cat hair.

He heard that cats know their way; if he considered this place home, he would come back. Unfortunately, Su Ruhui didn’t know if Sang Baobao considered this place home. Just as he pushed open the side door to go look for him, he saw Sang Chiyu standing in the corridor. He stood not far away, dressed in a narrow-sleeved black robe, his posture as upright as a pine or cypress, a form that the cold wind couldn’t break. His face was just a bit cold, and his downcast eyes had a sense of indifferent detachment.

Su Ruhui’s eyes lit up, and he ran toward him excitedly. Sang Chiyu stepped back with his hands behind his back. Su Ruhui took a few steps toward him, and he took a few steps back.

Su Ruhui laughed in anger, “What are you doing? Am I the plague or something? Is this necessary?”

“Sorry,” Sang Chiyu said softly.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Last night was my offense,” Sang Chiyu said.

“That matter…” Su Ruhui smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t mind. You can do it again if you want. Come in, I’ll cook for you. What do you want to eat?”

Sang Chiyu looked at his bright smile, the fists behind his back clenched tightly.

Indeed, how could Su Ruhui care about such a thing? He has probably been through many such battles.

His emotions fluctuated again, and his meridians showed signs of going out of control. Sang Chiyu slowly exhaled to calm his mind and said, “I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Su Ruhui was going crazy from this stubborn mule. “Where could you go? To the Black Street? There are my uncle’s spies in the Black Street. Do you think that place is safe?”

Sang Chiyu didn’t reply, only saying, “Su Ruhui, take care.”

He turned to walk away, his manner so resolute that Su Ruhui was almost certain he would never come back. This back view was incredibly familiar, and in a daze, it overlapped with another figure. Many years ago, Su Ruhui had also watched a person leave so heartlessly, watching his sky-blue robe hem blend into the vast wind and snow. From then on, the sky was high and the mountains far; they never met again.

Sang Chiyu’s robe hem was caught; Su Ruhui had grabbed him.

“I don’t understand, why are you all so heartless?” He heard Su Ruhui’s dry voice. “When I was twelve, my father went west. I rolled on the ground throwing a tantrum, but he didn’t even look back at me once. Sang Chiyu, if I begged you to stay, would you?”

Sang Chiyu turned his face and met Su Ruhui’s sorrowful eyes. It was as if layers of frost were spread in the depths of Su Ruhui’s eyes, and a tear escaped, sliding down his cheek. Anyone who saw his expression would not doubt his sadness and reluctance.

Su Ruhui spoke hoarsely, “Please stay, okay?”

Sang Chiyu was silent and didn’t respond. He knew Su Ruhui—every expression of Su Ruhui, every word he had spoken; Su Ruhui himself didn’t remember, but he had never forgotten. Therefore, he understood Su Ruhui’s character and knew his actions. He looked coldly at Su Ruhui’s tears, knowing with absolute clarity that Su Ruhui was faking his crying.

But, he couldn’t help but think: What if it’s real? What if Su Ruhui also has a sincere heart and really would cry because of his departure?

He activated the “Mind Reading” secret technique.

Su Ruhui tried his best to recall the scene of Su Guanyu’s departure years ago, trying to evoke the sadness and loneliness in his heart to make the tears flow more fiercely. However, he hadn’t cried since he was a child; one tear was already his limit, so he had to work hard to keep a long face, putting on a look of unbearable pain. This was the downside of being too strong; he was rarely sad or distressed. He hadn’t cried when his father left, nor had he cried when death was imminent, let alone now. Su Ruhui truly couldn’t cry. Sang Chiyu was like a stone sculpture; he let him pull at his robe hem without moving. Su Ruhui couldn’t help but think resentfully, Why hasn’t Sang Chiyu softened his heart yet? Is he not pitiful enough?