Song Yehai continued carrying Wu Xingyu as he followed Chen Qingxuan. They arrived at a village that had become rather quiet with not many people visiting the streets at this late hour. Chen Qingxuan walked down the streets and made several detours before arriving at an inn where the man at the reception was almost dozing off. He sprung into full wakefulness at the sight of new customers.
"Welcome to our… oh, it's you Qingxuan."
"Hey, Old Wang," Chen Qingxuan dropped the rabbits in his arms on the table.
"You brought more bunnies?"
"Yeah. Get these little guys with the other bunnies later. Open up a room for Grandmaster Song and Grandmaster Wu first."
Old Wang looked back at Song Yehai and Wu Xingyu. "I think we only have one room available at the moment, and it only has one bed."
"That's fine," said Song Yehai.
"Alright then," turning to a shelf of drawers all labeled with numbers, Old Wang pulled out one of them and took out the key within before leading his guests up the stairs. Walking down the corridor, they stopped by the furthest room.
"This place," said Wu Xingyu drowsily as his eyes traced the interior architecture of the building, the doors, walls and floor.
"Xingyu, what is it?"
"This place."
"What about this place?"
"It's where Ah-Xuan and I stayed ten years ago."
Old Wang passed the key to Song Yehai. "If you need anything, I'll be downstairs."
"Thank you."
He and Chen Qingxuan promptly left them to be. Song Yehai pushed open the door and walked in.
There was only one bed that was large enough to accomodate two people if they laid a little close together but without needing to touch each other. A folding screen with six frames separated a bathtub from the rest of the room, and a small, wooden table with two chairs was positioned in the centre of the space between the bed and the the screen. Standing on the table was a half-burnt candle and a teapot with two matching teacups. At the back wall of the room was a cupboard with one of the doors open, revealing a small pile of books and papers with brushes on top.
Song Yehai placed Wu Xingyu on the bed and opened the window right above it, aerating the stuffy room. A blast of wind blew out the candle and a sneeze escaped Wu Xingyu. Borrowing the moonlight seeping through the window Song Yehai relit the flame, having it flickering dimly, and then closed the window, deciding it was cool enough inside. He surveyed the bed frame and, satisfied with the cleanliness, hung his sword and whip on it.
Lying on the bed Wu Xingyu was overtaken by a chill that prompted him to clutch tighter the robe around him. Song Yehai removed his flute from his sleeves and placed it on the table.
"Xingyu, my robe's dirty," Song Yehai attempted to also remove his outer robe but Wu Xingyu stubbornly refused to let go, even when he tried to pry his fingers apart. Eventually he relented.
Wu Xingyu coiled into a ball like a cat as he hugged onto the robe. A surge of heat flared in his chest as sweat dripped from his forehead. Song Yehai wiped them away and added the blankets on top of him. He transferred a small amount of spiritual energy to mitigate the heat.
"There, how are you feeling now? A bit better?"
"Sleepy," murmured Wu Xingyu in a daze as his head whizzed and small amount of blush emerged under his eyes. "And… a little dizzy."
Song Yehai took his wrist and pressed two fingers over the pulse.
"The poison is under control," he said softly, uncertain of whether Wu Xingyu was conscious or not. "But it's using up so much of your spiritual energy. Don't ever put yourself in harm's way like that again, ok?"
Receiving silence as his only response, Song Yehai sat on the table and wrote a letter. Once he was done, he sealed it in an envelope and left the room. Wu Xingyu opened his eyes at Song Yehai's disappearing figure. 'I'll try not to, but I can't promise anything,' he thought before falling back asleep.
Heading downstairs Song Yehai hired a deliveryman to get the letter to Meng Qi at the East Sea Temples and then went to the reception to request for hot water for a bath. Old Wang personally drew two buckets of water from a well at the back of the inn and heated them in a cauldron. Though Song Yehai offered to do it himself, Old Wang was insistent on transporting the water to the room himself. Once he filled the bathtub he politely declined the coins Song Yehai wanted to tip him with.
"There's no need to be so courteous with me. This is all part of our inn's services. Enjoy your bath," Old Wang carried the empty buckets on his shoulder and left the room.
Song Yehai took off his shoes and socks first, and then removed his clothes layer by layer and hung them on the screen. Stepping into the bathtub he slowly sank into the waters. The heat was initially somewhat irritant before becoming quite soothing to his skin. Soon it cleaned away the sweat and dirt of the day. The steam clouded his eyes but did not cause any discomfort and gradually dissipated, clearing his vision again.
"Yehai, you're taking a bath?" he heard Wu Xingyu ask from behind the screen.
"Yes. How's the venom in your body?"
"It's all under control," assured Wu Xingyu. "Your clothes have tears on them. May I help you fix them?"
Song Yehai paused briefly before he responded, "Yes, you may."
Receiving his consent, Wu Xingyu took Song Yehai's black robe that he was clinging onto and examined the damages on the collar under the candlelight. He pulled out his pouch of needlework tools that he always carried with him.
Wu Xingyu sewed in a way that the stitches could not be seen once he pulled on the thread and closed the gap. He used his teeth to bite off the thread. Having brought his face right next to Song Yehai's clothing, he caught a whiff of the scent and nearly sneezed at the strong medicinal aroma infused in the fabric. Done with the sleeve, he moved on to the right shoulder that had two small holes to close up and made quick work with them.
Placing the outer robe aside he went up to the screen and grabbed Song Yehai's inner robes. After checking it and finding no tears he hung it neatly back on the first frame of screen. The sounds of water moving behind the screen caught his attention. On a whim, he leaned a little to the side to see Song Yehai standing up from the bathtub.
Wu Xingyu caught a glimpse of Song Yehai's entire upper body uncovered. His breath hitched at the sight and he quickly looked away with his heart racing.
'Oh my god, that body shape!' he immediately thought, and then, embarrassed that his mind would think such thoughts, quickly repressed it with the self-admonishing question, 'What am I thinking?'
The venom of the fire viper began to burn in his body again. Breaking out into a delirious fever, it dulled his senses and brought a chill through his entire body. He downed two cups of tea that had long turned cold and cleared his throat a few times even though his throat was fine with nothing stuck inside.
Song Yehai was fair-toned with broad shoulders, long arms and contours that emphasised a muscular yet lean and well-proportioned build. The flawless outlines were etched into Wu Xingyu's mind like irremovable rock carvings that he yearned to steal more glances of.
"Wu Xingyu, what are you thinking?" he rubbed his temples as he continued to admonish himself. "How can you have these wicked thoughts of Yehai?"
"Xingyu, did you say something?" asked Song Yehai.
"No, nothing!"
Wu Xingyu quickly pulled out a book at random from the cupboards, a collection of Taoist scriptures, and flipped through the pages. Concentrating his entire attention to the inscriptions, he was able to be briefly ignore the fever that was wearing his consciousness, the scorch that parched his throat and the heat that was eating his bones. He read quickly, absorbing so many words all at once so that it occupied his entire mind and he would not think of anything else.
'Why does this inn have a book on Taoism?' he wondered in the middle of his reading.
The minute he put down the book, the image of Song Yehai's upper body popped up on its own in his mind again. The poison re-flared with an even stronger fever and temperature rise. Wu Xingyu winced from the sharp ache attacking his head in intermittent pulses.
"Ah, that hurts," he gasped very softly as he leaned back, raised his hands to chest and breathed in deeply, filling his lungs to the brim. The sting softened slightly and he lowered his arms as he breathed out, closing his eyes and circulating his spiritual energy to suppress the poison.
In the darkness of his closed vision stood a lone figure whose black attire nearly camouflaged with the background, but he was there. Wu Xingyu could clearly see him, tall, upright and dignified. When the man turned around, his dark, sharp eyes on that handsome face looked at Wu Xingyu's direction and his stoic face suddenly bore a smile.
Despite his best efforts, he ultimately could not purge Song Yehai from his mind. The obsession reached a peak and he blacked out in a final attempt to stop thinking about the Moon Dragon Grandmaster, falling onto his arms while still at the table.
"Xingyu?"
Once Song Yehai had finished cleaning and drying himself he began putting on the inner long-sleeved garments. Hearing the crash, he walked around the screen before properly tying the front opening close. Finding Wu Xingyu asleep on his arms, he took his pulse by the neck and then felt his forehead. "The venom's out of control. You've got a fever."
"Ye… hai?"
"Xingyu, come on," Song Yehai responded softly as he attempted to pick him up with the intent of carrying him to his bed. But Wu Xingyu groaned and resisted.
Wu Xingyu's eyes opened but in a very bleary state. In what looked like an inebriated state, they were fixated on Song Yehai with a thin sheen of tears forming over his eyes, giving them in a glittering reflection. His breaths were heavy and uneven, and his body was getting hotter and hotter. His head was in a haze, but a fire was lit. As it burned passionately he was suddenly experiencing a deep craving.
And the object of his craving was right in front of him.
But it was also an unattainable desire, a wishful yearning that was tormenting, frustrating and persistent all at once.
He could not cut it off of him. Instead, he allowed it to consume him.
"Are you intoxicated from the venom?" Song Yehai lifted one of Wu Xingyu's eyelids and took a closer look. "Dilated pupils. Your concentration and reaction time seems slow as well."
He noticed the book on the table. "Distracting yourself is not going to keep the venom's effects at bay. You need to get some rest now. We have a long distance to cover to get to the Desert of No Return. I'll transfer some spiritual energy to you to suppress the poison. Here, have some tea first to cool down a bit."
Song Yehai reached for the teapot and poured a cup when Wu Xingyu pulled him away. The tea spilled all over the table and dripped onto the floor. The cup rolled to the edge without falling off.
"Xingyu, what are you…?"
Song Yehai, caught off guard, was shoved onto the bed and held down. The loose robe opened up, exposing his bare chest. A striking scar with crude stitch marks ran diagonally down from his left shoulder to the centre of his chest. Song Yehai quickly pulled up his robe and covered it.
Wu Xingyu was bent over him as he gazed down with a downcast and pining expression. He had seen clearly the scar before his focus travelled up the collarbone, the Adam's apple and then the face. A single tear condensed out of his eye and landed on Song Yehai's cheek.
Saddened and perplexed at that pitiable look above him, Song Yehai tentatively reached up and gently touched Wu Xingyu's face.
"Xingyu, you're…?"
His lips were suddenly sealed by Wu Xingyu's mouth.
The kiss was soft and clumsy, yet gentle and controlled as though Wu Xingyu knew exactly what he was doing. Eyes closed, mind empty and heart beating rapidly, he began to pry open Song Yehai and reach inside greedily with his tongue.
Startled by the invasion, Song Yehai pushed Wu Xingyu away by the shoulder. "Xingyu! What are you doing?"
Before anything else could happen Wu Xingyu seemed to have lost all his strength in one second and fell, planting his face on Song Yehai's chest. Slow breaths brushed over his skin, tickling him. Song Yehai froze on the moment, his heart rate quickening and his face flushing. Looking down, Wu Xingyu had already fallen asleep, his arms wrapped floppily around his waist.
He mumbled something inaudibly and then unconsciously nuzzled lightly against Song Yehai's clavicle. The rubbing sent chills down his spine and he swallowed a breath, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did.
"Xingyu, you're acting like this due to the venom's effects," Song Yehai stroked the back of Xingyu's head. "Get some rest and force out the venom tomorrow, ok?"
Sitting up, he gently lifted Wu Xingyu off himself and placed him back on the bed, head on the pillow and blankets up to his neck before lying down on his back on the outer side. His fingers touched his own lips that could still feel the soft and sensitive touch of Wu Xingyu's lips. The recall proceeded to the taste of his tongue and the shock it brought.
Song Yehai recoiled his hand and bit his bottom lip, snapping out the memory. He turned his head to the person knocked out next to him and quietly whispered, "Xingyu, what were you crying about just now?"