Xue Tuzi stammered, his breath hitching as the question lingered in the air. His skin, flushed from either embarrassment or the heat curling from the bathhouse, glowing in the dim lantern light. The steam coiled around him, softening the edges of his trembling form. Ye Hu, unwilling to betray his disappointment, sank deeper into the water, letting the warmth swallow his reaction. Rejection sat heavy in his chest, but before he could resign himself to it, the rustling of fabric drew his gaze. Xue Tuzi stood at the threshold, fingers gripping the hem of his robe. His hands trembled, hesitation gripping him like a vice. And then—he let go. The silken layers unraveled, sliding from his shoulders in a slow, deliberate descent until they pooled at his feet.
Ye Hu's breath stilled. Gone was the small, fragile boy he had once known at the orphanage. Before him stood a man, delicate yet impossibly striking. His features, sharpened with age but no less beautiful, seemed almost otherworldly under the flickering light. Yet, as Ye Hu's gaze traveled downward, it caught on the gleaming stones embedded in Xue Tuzi's nipples. Jewels, nestled into his skin like cursed ornaments. Xue Tuzi flinched, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself, as if he could hide them—hide the shame that painted his face.
"Those jewels…" Ye Hu started, voice thick with something unreadable. But before he could finish, Xue Tuzi stepped forward, slipping into the water in a hurried motion. The surface rippled, swallowing him whole as he ducked his head, refusing to meet Ye Hu's eyes.
Ye Hu drifted closer, the space between them tightening. His dark gaze, obscured by strands of damp hair, held a heat that sent a shiver through Xue Tuzi.
"I-I was sold at an auction," Xue Tuzi finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. He clutched his chest as though trying to steady his own heartbeat. "I broke an expensive vase—one I could never afford to repay." A bitter laugh trembled on his lips before vanishing. "These… these jewels are proof of my contract with Lord Chanchu."
Ye Hu's hand rose, fingers curling gently around Xue Tuzi's jaw, tilting his face upward. His touch was warm, grounding. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his thumb tracing over the tiny mole at the corner of Xue Tuzi's lips.
His hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing against the embedded gemstones. He lingered there, his touch featherlight yet searing as he tugged at the nipple. Xue Tuzi's breath caught.
"Gege, please don't," he gasped, his voice barely a plea.
His nipple pulsed—a deep, luminous pink, reacting to the heat of Ye Hu's touch. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Ye Hu's expression before he finally relented, his fingers slipping away. But the weight of his gaze remained, burning, knowing. Ye Hu's eyes gleamed, his longing gaze half-hidden behind the damp strands of his hair as Xue Tuzi hesitated at the edge of the stone tub. Steam curled around them, blurring the edges of reality, turning the moment into something suspended between past and present. With a nervous breath, Xue Tuzi slipped into the water, the warmth licking at his skin as he sank deeper, trying to hide the tremor in his movements.
Ye Hu drifted closer, the distance between them shrinking until the rippling water barely separated their bodies. His voice was soft, carrying the weight of memory. "You've grown," he murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "No longer the small child wrapped around my knees."
Xue Tuzi's fingers curled against the water's surface, his heartbeat a quiet drum against his ribs. Whenever Ye Hu visited the orphanage, Xue Tuzi had been his shadow, clinging to the hem of his robes like a lifeline. The attendants called him a pest, shooing him away with exasperated sighs, but he never listened. He would latch onto Ye Hu's leg, his round eyes wide with desperation, pleading for even a scrap of affection.
There was nowhere Xue Tuzi wouldn't follow him—not even the most mundane places. He would stand guard outside the toilet, waiting anxiously for Ye Hu to emerge, tugging at his robes the moment he stepped out. "Gege, hold me," he would whisper, his small hands gripping tightly, afraid that if he let go, Ye Hu would disappear.
A chuckle escaped his lips. "Aren't you a bit too big to be carried, Xiao Tuzi?"
"Hold me."
One evening, after another long day of dodging scolding attendants, Ye Hu had looked down at the boy stubbornly clinging to his robes and sighed, amusement softening his expression.
"Today, I will join you," he had said, voice gentle as he poked Xue Tuzi's nose with a teasing finger.
Xue Tuzi had watched, entranced, as Ye Hu prepared the bath, undoing the layers of his robes with unhurried grace. When he pulled the ribbon from his hair, the strands spilled down his back like ink unfurling in water, cascading past his waist.
To the wide-eyed boy, Ye Hu was mesmerizing—too beautiful, too untouchable. His Gege was the most striking person he had ever seen, so much so that it made his stomach twist with something strange, something he didn't yet understand.
The heat in his cheeks had nothing to do with the steaming bath.
Flustered, he had sunk deeper into the water, only his eyes peeking out as he watched Ye Hu step in, his movements effortless, practiced.
Ye Hu's hands had always been gentle. He had scrubbed away the dirt and neglect clinging to Xue Tuzi's skin, washing away the days spent ignored, unseen. Those hands had never pushed him aside, never treated him like something unwanted.
But even then, Xue Tuzi had felt ashamed.
Ashamed of the filth clinging to his body. Ashamed of the way he longed to be held in those hands, not just in passing, but always.
Breaking the heavy silence, Xue Tuzi lifted a damp rag, his fingers trembling slightly. "Gege… please allow me to assist you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ye Hu turned his head slightly, a soft smile curving his lips as he pulled his hair over one shoulder, exposing the smooth expanse of his back. "Very well."
With careful hands, Xue Tuzi began scrubbing, the damp cloth gliding over skin that was as flawless as porcelain. He worked in silence, his breath steady, but when his hand reached Ye Hu's shoulders, his movements faltered. His gaze darkened, sorrow pooling in his eyes as he traced the empty space where Ye Hu's arm should have been.
His throat tightened. The sacrifices his Gege had endured were, so stark and undeniable, it made his chest ache.
He reached for the water, pouring it gently over Ye Hu's hair, his fingers threading through the wet strands. But before he could withdraw, Ye Hu's only hand caught his wrist, pulling him forward with an unsettling gentleness.
"Xiao Tuzi…" Ye Hu murmured, his lips brushing dangerously close to his ear. Xue Tuzi stiffened, his breath catching as he took several steps back.
"Those scars on your back…" Ye Hu's voice dropped, dark with something unreadable. "Did you think I wouldn't notice them?"
Xue Tuzi's heart pounded violently against his ribs. He had tried so hard to keep them hidden, letting his long hair shroud the ugly welts, making sure to never turn his back to Ye Hu. But his Gege had seen—had caught a glimpse of them reflected in the bath's mirror.
Ye Hu's grip tightened, his fingers pressing into Xue Tuzi's wrist. His phoenix eyes, once soft, sharpened with quiet fury.
"Did that so-called Grandmaster do this to you?" His voice trembled with restrained anger.
Xue Tuzi froze. His lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, he forced himself to speak. "N-no… Shizun would never." His voice wavered. "I… I did this to myself."
Ye Hu's gaze darkened further, his jaw tightening as if the very words disgusted him. "That man is a fraud," he said, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "You should stop calling him Shizun."
Xue Tuzi swallowed hard, but before he could react, Ye Hu pulled him forward, arm wrapping around him in an embrace that should have been comforting. His voice softened, almost pained.
"You've suffered so much," he whispered, his fingers threading into Xue Tuzi's damp hair, patting his head as he once did when he was younger. "But I'm here now."
His touch drifted lower, fingers ghosting over the scars that marred Xue Tuzi's back. He felt something hard and stiff rub against his skin prodding at him. His stomach twisted. A cold, visceral discomfort crawled up his spine, suffocating, unbearable. His body recoiled before he could stop himself, a sharp, involuntary flinch. The moment stretched, the air between them thick with something neither of them could name.
Ye Hu stilled. Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes—once filled with warmth—now clouded with something wounded, something dangerously unreadable.
"Xiao Tuzi…" His voice was quiet, but the words cut deeper than any blade. "Do I… disgust you?"
Xue Tuzi's heart clenched.
No. he wanted to say. He still held his Gege in the highest regard. But the words refused to come. His body had reacted on its own, rejecting the touch of the very person who had given him everything. Guilt clawed at his chest, suffocating him. This man had spent years searching for him, had given him nothing but unconditional affection, yet now—when Ye Hu needed him most—Xue Tuzi's own body betrayed him.
"Gege, I…" he stammered, the words choking in his throat.
Ye Hu exhaled sharply, cutting him off. "I do not wish to force you to leave with me, Xiao Tuzi."
His voice was steady, but the sadness bled through, raw and unhidden. Without another word, he stepped out of the bath, water streaming down his frame. Reaching for a towel, he dried his face with his only hand, the action slow, deliberate. Xue Tuzi watched him struggle, something inside him twisting painfully. Without thinking, he stepped out as well, grabbing a fresh robe. He patted Ye Hu dry, hands gentle, before helping him slip into the clean fabric. The moment his fingers brushed against Ye Hu's skin, he felt the faintest tremor run through the man's body—so brief it was almost imperceptible.
"I still wish to depart with you," Xue Tuzi finally said, his voice quiet but resolute. His heart ached, weighed down by emotions he could not untangle.
Ye Hu needed someone by his side.
After everything, how could he be so selfish as to abandon him now?
Xue Tuzi still intended to take Jiao Jiao with him. He told himself that, in time, the child would warm up to Ye Hu, and any lingering misunderstandings between them would dissolve. His Gege was a virtuous man—kind and generous. He would not hold a grudge against an innocent child, not when Jiao Jiao had nothing to do with the massacre at the orphanage. Even so, as Xue Tuzi made his way down the stairs, his heart remained tangled in turmoil. His decision felt like walking across a thread-thin bridge, uncertain if it would hold or snap beneath him.
Just as he reached the inn's entrance, the doors flung open with force, and he collided with something solid, something unmoving.
A firm arm caught him before he could stumble.
Xue Tuzi gasped, eyes snapping up to meet the fierce, unyielding gaze of Shudu. The demon's ink-stained arm remained locked around his waist, holding him in place. The scent of sandalwood and iron clung to him, intoxicating, suffocating. Shudu's nostrils flared, his expression twisting into one of disdain as he looked down at him.
Xue Tuzi's lips parted, but no words came. His throat was dry, his body betraying him. The warmth of Shudu's hand burned through the thin fabric of his robes, sending a shiver up his spine. He hated this—hated the way his body melted at the demon's touch, how his presence alone unraveled something deep within him.
But Shudu let go, severing the moment as if it meant nothing.
Before Xue Tuzi could say a word, a small voice broke through the tension.
"Mama!"
Jiao Jiao's little hands tugged insistently at Xue Tuzi's robes. Without thinking, Xue Tuzi scooped the child into his arms, holding him close as he turned away from Shudu.
He made his way up the stairs, but his steps slowed. Hesitation clung to him like a shadow. He didn't want to leave.
The voice called his name.
"Xiao Tuzi."
Ye Hu stood at the end of the hallway, adjusting his robes, his soft expression cooling the moment his gaze fell upon the child in Xue Tuzi's arms.
Jiao Jiao stiffened, his small body pressing tighter against Xue Tuzi, his face riddled with fear.
"Mama… scary," he mumbled, his tiny hands fisting into Xue Tuzi's robes.
"There's nothing to be scared of," Xue Tuzi reassured him, smoothing his hand over the boy's hair. But Jiao Jiao wasn't convinced. His little shoulders trembled. This was the man who aimed a sword at his heart. Ye Hu's cold gaze softened. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small piece of candy, holding it out in his palm.
"Here," he said gently. "An apology for today's earlier transgressions."
He smiled, but the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes.
Jiao Jiao only clung tighter to Xue Tuzi, his brows furrowing.
"Poison," he muttered, his small fists trembling against Xue Tuzi's robes.
Ye Hu's smile faded slightly, his gaze sharpening at the child's defiance. He had survived the slaughter of the orphanage, had endured years of pain and suffering, but now he was being glared at by a child barely the size of bamboo shoot.
"Xiao Jiao, Gege is trying to be friends with you," Xue Tuzi scolded him softly.
Jiao Jiao shook his head violently. "Poison," he repeated, his voice more insistent.
Ye Hu exhaled, retracting his hand. "Very well—"
Before he could pull the candy away, Xue Tuzi reached out, plucking it from his palm and popping it into his mouth without hesitation.
"Not poison," he said firmly, looking Jiao Jiao in the eye.
He understood the child's fear. Jiao Jiao had every reason to distrust Ye Hu. But he needed him to see—there was nothing to fear. His Gege was trying. He was willing to make amends.
Xue Tuzi chewed slowly. "Hmmm… peach flavor," he murmured, the sweet taste melting on his tongue.
Ye Hu's expression softened. "I have always carried them with me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "They remind me of you."
He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against Xue Tuzi's cheek, his touch lingering. But before he could savor the moment, a small foot kicked him squarely in the chest. Ye Hu staggered back, caught off guard.
Jiao Jiao glared at him, his tiny body bristling with protectiveness.
He didn't want this man touching Xue Tuzi.