Xue Tuzi collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor, his body wracked with silent sobs. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision as his chest heaved with the weight of his torment. His heart felt as though it had been split in two, torn between the impossible choice before him—leaving with his Gege or remaining by his Shizun's side.
His hands trembled as he pressed them against the ground, his nails digging into the wood. For years, he had carried a singular purpose, a vow carved into the marrow of his bones—to avenge his fellow orphans. The grief, the rage, the festering resentment had driven him forward, had made him strong. He had believed his Gege had perished in that tragedy, swallowed by the very creatures he had sworn to destroy. And yet—he was alive. Alive, standing before him, unraveling everything he had built his resolve upon.
But it wasn't just that. It wasn't only vengeance that tethered him to this path—it was his heart. His once hardened, unyielding heart had softened, not just in the presence of his Shizun but also for Jiao Jiao, the child he adored more than he ever thought possible. And then there was Shudu.
The mere thought of him sent heat rushing to his face. That imposing frame, those strong arms that had once encircled his waist, holding him with a possessiveness that made his breath hitch. Shudu's touch, warm despite what he was, had melted him, unraveled him. Those piercing eyes—a fiery crimson and that single, haunting golden glow—had always watched him with unspoken hunger. Xue Tuzi bit his lip, his breath uneven as memories threatened to consume him.
But his feelings were tainted now, muddied with the knowledge that Shudu had benefitted from the slaughter that had shaped his entire existence. His chest tightened, a war waging between longing and loathing.
And then there was his Shizun.
The man who had taken him in, who had offered him warmth and guidance under the strangest of pretexts—that he had a dream of mentoring a disciple who looked exactly like him. Xue Tuzi had never questioned his Shizun's peculiar logic, nor had he sought to understand it. What he did know was that his Shizun had been kind. He had been patient, generous, unwaveringly gentle. His presence had been a balm to wounds that Xue Tuzi had thought would never heal. The thought of leaving him—of never hearing his voice again, of never feeling the steady comfort of his presence—made his stomach twist violently.
His breath came in ragged pants, his hand clenching over his heart as if he could physically hold it together. "To leave… or to stay…" he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely more than a broken murmur.
Tears fell freely, unchecked, as he remained there—trapped between past and future, vengeance and love, duty and desire—unable to take a step in either direction. The sharp clatter of a fallen basket shattered the suffocating silence, snapping Xue Tuzi out of his daze. His breath hitched as he turned his head toward the source of the noise.
"Xiao Tuzi," a voice called, soft and familiar.
Xue Tuzi's gaze met his Gege's, and for a moment, the world around him faded. Ye Hu stood in the dim light, wearing nothing but a thin robe that clung loosely to his form. His long, dark hair cascaded down his back like flowing ink, framing his sharp yet delicate features. His brows knitted together, concern darkening his phoenix eyes as he took in Xue Tuzi's disheveled state.
"Xiao Tuzi… are you hurt? What's going on?" Ye Hu crouched down before him, his warm palm brushing against Xue Tuzi's cheek. His thumb lingered at the mole resting at the corner of Xue Tuzi's lips, a touch so gentle it sent an aching warmth through his chest.
"Gege, I…" Xue Tuzi's voice faltered, his throat tightening. The weight of his emotions crushed him, leaving him breathless. Without thinking, he buried his face into Ye Hu's chest, his body trembling as a fresh wave of anguish overtook him.
Ye Hu exhaled softly, his arm encircling Xue Tuzi, his fingers threading through his hair in soothing strokes. "If you wish to remain," he murmured, his voice tinged with sorrow, "I will not force you."
He cupped Xue Tuzi's face, tilting it upward until their eyes met. Those phoenix eyes—mesmerizing and unreadable—searched his own before Ye Hu pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.
"Knowing you're alive is good enough for me," he whispered, his breath warm against Xue Tuzi's ear. His hand continued combing through Xue Tuzi's hair, the touch achingly tender, as if he was afraid this moment would slip through his fingers.
A pang of guilt spread through Xue Tuzi's chest, creeping into every corner of his heart like a slow, suffocating poison. This was the man who had given everything for him, the man who had saved him from the clutches of the insect demons, who had prioritized his safety over his own, who had scoured the earth searching for him, refusing to believe he had perished. The man who had held onto that tattered stuffed bunny, carrying it for years with the unwavering hope of returning it to its rightful owner.
And how did Xue Tuzi repay him? By hesitating.
It should have been an easy decision. Ye Hu had fought for him, had endured unspeakable hardship to find him, had dreamed of their reunion. But Xue Tuzi had changed. His heart had changed. Ye Hu didn't know, couldn't know, that he had found warmth elsewhere. That he had built something here, fragile and unexpected. That he had forged a bond with an insect demon.
Gege probably thinks I've forgotten about him… that I no longer care.
Xue Tuzi swallowed hard, guilt clawing at his insides. He lifted his gaze, his heart twisting when he saw the warmth still lingering in Ye Hu's eyes—patient, tender, unwavering despite the pain he must have felt.
Without thinking, Xue Tuzi reached for Ye Hu's hand, the one still resting against his cheek, and held it tightly. "Gege… the truth is… not a day has passed that I haven't thought about you," he said, the words raw and unguarded.
Ye Hu's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but Xue Tuzi continued before he could falter.
"I—I'd like to go with you. I want to be with you."
The words left his mouth, but they felt heavy, like stones sinking into a deep, dark river.
A part of him felt betrayed.
A part of him wasn't fully convinced.
Did he truly want to leave? To return to the life he once had with Ye Hu? Or was he saying this out of guilt, out of obligation to the man who had given him everything?
His heart was a raging storm, torn between past and present, between love and duty, between the unshakable bond of his childhood and the uncertain, dangerous tenderness that had taken root in his soul. He felt himself being pulled in two directions—one part yearning for the warmth of familiarity, the safety of the past, while the other clung desperately to the life he had found here, to the people who had softened his once cold heart.
But in the end, the words had already been spoken.
And he wasn't sure if he could take them back.
"Xiao Tuzi, let's depart tonight," Ye Hu murmured, his voice low and gentle as his fingers brushed away the stray strands of hair clinging to Xue Tuzi's damp cheeks.
Tonight?
Xue Tuzi's heart stuttered, his breath caught between his ribs. So soon? A knot tightened in his chest, but he swallowed it down. Perhaps it was better this way. If he lingered any longer, if he allowed himself time to think, he might waver. He might change his mind.
He gave a small nod, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Ye Hu smiled faintly, the expression barely touching the sorrow in his eyes as he bent down to gather the fallen items from the basket.
"Gege, I'm sorry for startling you on your way to you bath," Xue Tuzi said softly, watching the man's deft movements.
"It's no problem at all…" Ye Hu placed the last item into the basket before lifting his gaze. His eyes, always warm, so achingly soft, held Xue Tuzi's deep brown ones captive. "But, could I trouble you…?"
The unspoken request lingered between them.
Xue Tuzi followed Ye Hu to the bathhouse, the quiet padding of their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. Inside, the room was silent, save for the gentle slosh of water in the stone pool. Steam curled in the air, the scent of faintly perfumed herbs drifting around them. Ye Hu loosened his robes and let them slide down his shoulders. The dim light traced the contours of his body, revealing the scars that marred the space where his right arm had once been. Xue Tuzi sucked in a breath, his fingers twitching at his sides. The sight of it—of what had been taken from him—ached in a way he couldn't describe. His Gege had endured so much. He had fought, suffered, and survived, all while Xue Tuzi had been here, torn between staying and leaving, between past and present.
Ye Hu lowered his gaze, his lone hand clenching over the ridged scarred flesh where his arm should have been.
"I'm pathetic…" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Xue Tuzi's breath hitched, his chest tightening.
Ye Hu turned to him with a small, forced smile. "The truth is… I've struggled to bathe ever since my arm went missing," he admitted, glancing at his left hand, his smile faltering. "I had to learn how to write, how to wield a sword with this hand. Some things… were easier to adjust to than others."
His fingers found the knot at his waist, pulling it loose. The fabric slipped down in a slow cascade, pooling at his ankles.
For a moment, Xue Tuzi forgot how to breathe.
Ye Hu was still exactly as he remembered him—ethereal, breathtaking. His smooth, pale skin glowed in the dim light, the contrast against his long, black silk hair making him look almost unreal, like something carved from moonlight. The heat of the bathhouse wrapped around them, but Xue Tuzi felt frozen, his body locked in place as those phoenix eyes turned on him.
Captivating.
Xue Tuzi quickly averted his gaze, his heart hammering against his ribs.
A small, knowing smile ghosted across Ye Hu's lips as he stepped into the steaming water, his movements slow and unhurried. He sank into the warmth, tilting his head back slightly, his damp hair trailing along the surface. His eyes, half-lidded, slid toward Xue Tuzi.
"Will you not join me?" he asked, voice as smooth as silk, the invitation lingering in the heavy air between them.