[ZHUILING] More Than Enough

Chapter 7

In reality, Sizhui knew from the beginning. He knew that there was a wild cultivator peeking at Jingyi and his argument. Rather, he had practically felt a pair of instigating eyes scarring into his back, sending chills to all corners of his body. It imitated a block of ice dragging along his back, with the temperature of frigid coldness captivating and withholding him with their bare hands.

"He's gone." Sizhui muttered those words, as if they were what remained of his last breath.

"So... he saw us, didn't he?" Jingyi trudged over to the heartbroken Sizhui. "Jingyi?" Sizhui perked up from his state of discomfort. "How'd you know?"

"I saw a dog."

Sizhui's speechless face had only made Jingyi regret saying that. "Okay, I was joking. I just heard a clarity bell and remembered that only the Young Mistress wears one of those. It's a shame how the Yunmeng Jiang disciples gave up on keeping the trend."

"Oh. Of course." Sizhui was quick to agree.

"Do you think that he's 'social distancing' with you because of our problem or is it... 'I don't need special treatment'?" Jingyi mimicked the Young Mistress, with his voice swapping between a mature tone and a whiny obnoxious one.

"It's obviously because he saw us arguing." Sizhui frowned. "But we made it up, didn't we?"

"Why are you asking me? And yes, we did. You promised to never lie to me ever again, and the case closed like bam." Jingyi frowned back. "The Young Mistress is just making this a pain in the ass." 

     "Jingyi." Sizhui deadpanned.

     "Fine," Jingyi sighed. "I won't make fun of your little crush."

*****

Jin Ling suffocated himself. Slowly and lightly. Under his blankets.

     He'd been under his covers until the night, but it felt like an eternity for the young cultivator. A smothering atmosphere had encircled his surrounding, chasing after him like a shadow. He didn't understand why, but a devastating sensation had overcame him. It was a slow death—actually, it had absolutely no effect, but Jin Ling felt like it was enough to strangle his inner feelings.

     Sadness—wasn't what he felt, but rather regret and grief. It was like a slow and unending pain, like a flow of poison running through his veins.

     Knock knock knock three sounds of knocking had snapped him out of his sorrow. He practically flung himself out from under his blanket and darted a startled look towards the door of his sleeping quarter. The knocks seemed to temporarily stop, but Jin Ling was still shocked. Who could be looking for me at this hour? He wandered, slipping out of his bed and into a pair of furry slippers.

     Albeit he knew that it was already night and it was unlikely for anyone to wander outside because of the GusuLan rules, he still dusted some imaginary dirt off himself and walked limpidly towards the door.

     He wore a golden night gown that reached down to his knees, with short sleeves ruffling his shoulders. Other than that and his clarity bell, he wore nothing else underneath. His hair was still tied into a ponytail despite his nap under his covers, with a red ribbon tying it together.

     Knock knockknock knockknockknock an irritating pattern of knocks had formed at the door. It annoyed Jin Ling.