"Have you finished the fourth copy yet?" Sizhui asked.
Jin Ling and him had been copying the GusuLan rules for a week already, and the blood instigating within their minds was about to explode. "Almost." Jin Ling pressed, unsteadily writing messy words that even Sizhui couldn't read clearly. "You do realize that Lan Qiren would discern the papers himself, right?" Sizhui asked.
"So what?" Jin Ling scowled, beads of sweat forming at his forehead.
"If you can't write them properly, Lan Qiren will add more copies." Sizhui explained.
Jin Ling had frozen in his tracks. In fact, the younger cultivator seemed like a nerve was hit, and a flashback was occurring within his brain. "Jin Ling? Did you write the other copies neatly?"
"That I did. But... the fourth copy." Jin Ling gulped.
A droplet of his sweat splattered onto his page. Scowling, Jin Ling continued writing at a faster pace. His arm was about to give in—snap in half, almost. But every time he glanced over at Sizhui, motivation would pour into his arms, with energy forming from thin air. "It's fine." Sizhui smiled. "I'm on my fifth copy, so you could borrow my fourth one."
"Borrow?" Jin Ling frowned. "No way! Which GusuLan disciple helps other cheat?"
Sizhui giggled with uncertainty. "None of them?"
"Exactly!" Jin Ling exclaimed. "So why in the world are you suggesting this to me? Do you need anything from me? Do you have a grudge? Just because I'm young as a future sect leader doesn't mean you can look down at me!"
Rash words flooded out of Jin Ling's mouth, and before he knew it, he stopped writing and only babbled nonsense.
"No! That's not it!" Sizhui laughed.
That majestical sound tingled Jin Ling's ears as he heard it, squeezing his heart in unbearable directions. His heart pounded, similar to a gorilla hooting while pouncing their fists against their hairy chests. Blood flowed into his brain, with heat burning his ears. "Then what is it!" He menaced.
"I just want to help out a friend." Sizhui smiled.
Blush had burned at Jin Ling's cheeks as his arm stammered along with his shaking mid-air legs. "A friend? We're not friends! We're arched nemesis'!"
"Arched nemesis'?" Sizhui was puzzled.
"Exactly!" Jin Ling pointed his brush—which was soaked in soiled ink—towards Sizhui, throwing him an intimidating glare. "So don't think of me as a weakling! I'm your rival! Got it?"
Sizhui melted under the Young Mistress' gaze. Jin Ling had so much passion, Sizhui was afraid to destroy it in one flick. "O-of course." Sizhui weakly smiled. Although it was the truth, he was afraid to admit how much strength he was holding back just to equalize his speed with Jin Ling's. He have trained hard every night to gain enormous strength in his arms, so the given punishment was nothing to him. But when he saw how whole-heartedly Jin Ling had struggled, a space of empathy had formed in his heart and he slowed down his progress.
"Jin Ling," Sizhui began. "What makes you think we're rivals?"
Jin Ling hurriedly began writing once again, sweat polishing his skin intensively. "Isn't it obvious? Everyone always thinks you're better than me—and I'm a future sect leader! What in the world is wrong with their minds? I am superior, you are inferior. My uncle have trained me so much, only for me to get beaten by some petty cultivator. Which is why we're rivals or arched nemesis'. But..."
The layer of blush along his cheeks had doubled. "I'd rather go with 'rivals' for the meantime."
"Is your uncle strict as well?" Sizhui asked.
Bewilderment plastered over Jin Ling's face as he turned towards Sizhui. "Are you kidding me? Do you not know who my uncle is?"
"Jiang sect leader, right?" Sizhui discerned.
"You have no idea how he is like. Always screams and has a bad temper. His power is on a different level than anyone else's in Yunmeng—other than Wei Wuxian—and nobody's got the courage to defy him. In fact, he's scary. There's no way I'll ever train in Yunmeng ever again." Jin Ling sighed.
Sizhui tilted his head gently. "You've trained in Yunmeng before? How was it?"
"We wake up later and sleep later than Gusu. We get to eat Lotus seeds for snack, but the training is heavier." Jin Ling pondered, then something hit him. "Oi! Why do I have to tell you this?"
"I'm just curious." Sizhui responded.
Jin Ling didn't talk anymore, almost as if he was silenced. The two began to focus on their punishment, with their brushes moving and ink splattering over their pages. Eventually, night rolled by, and the copies were all finished written. Their arms were sore and tired, with pain clinging to their body's every corner. Jin Ling could barely even move his arms, as if weights had attached to the bottom and struggled to drag it down. His stomach grumbled atrociously, with a tantrum storming in his guts.
"I've sent our paperwork to Lan Qiren already. He should be marking them right now." Sizhui smiled.
The two cultivators were standing out of the Library Pavilion, with the night wind gently blowing along their backs. Jin Ling examined Sizhui, who was holding something behind his back. "Look, I got this for you." Sizhui held out a bento box from behind, adding an enlightening smile onto his face.
"Food." Jin Ling appeared more cheerful than expected. Sizhui had fed Jin Ling those bento boxes the past week, and to his delight, the Young Mistress seemed to always enjoy them with a 'stop watching me eat' statement. With the fatigue grinding at his stomach, Jin Ling was more hungry than before. He was practically on the verge of drooling, with starvation pummelling himself.
"Here you go." Sizhui pressed the bento box onto Jinling's wide open hands, whose palms pressed onto the surface.
Jin Ling hurriedly unwrapped the bento box, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the delicious meal within the crate. "Don't mind if I do."
"Wait!" Sizhui exclaimed. "You forgot about the tools."
He took out something from his back again, which was a pair of chopsticks that Sizhui borrowed Jin Ling all the time. "Use this." Pressing it against his palms, Sizhui smiled. "Just because it's you who's giving it to me doesn't mean I'll thank you." Jin Ling snarled, taking a seat at a nearby bench.
While he sat, his ponytail seated along with him, curling into a furry little circle. Sizhui didn't bother sitting. In fact, he stood while watching Jin Ling open the box eagerly.
It was fried egg rice. Within the blink of an eye, Jin Ling began shoving mouthfuls of the meal into his mouth. He almost didn't have enough time to swallow or chew, but Sizhui helped him with... a smile. After swallowing, Jin Ling blinked at Sizhui. "What are you doing? Sit down." Embarrassingly, he patted at the spare space next to himself on the wooden bench. Sizhui just stood there awkwardly with his mouth hanging open. "Don't make me repeat myself!" Jin Ling blushed.
The insides of the Young Mistress had squirmed, while his heart flattened when Sizhui politely bowed before sitting next to him on the bench. "The food's getting cold." Sizhui stated.
"Huh?" Anxiety rose inside of Jin Ling. Hurriedly, he continued shoving fried egg rice into his mouth. Adrenaline flooded his arms as he ate. The wonderful taste slid down his throat from his tongue as satisfaction poured into his taste buds. He could eat fried egg rice all day and not get bored one bit.
Finally, the food were all eaten. Not a bit was left.
"Was it good?" Sizhui asked. Eagerness was smothered all over his face, like a homeless puppy waiting for a new and loving owner. Jin Ling was startled by the adorable appearance from the GusuLan disciple. He was flustered by the lack of control within Sizhui's facial expressions, and couldn't help but throw a last lingering look before continuing, "yeah, sort of."
"I'm glad." Sizhui smiled again. Jin Ling turned away from him. "You better be glad."
Sizhui nervously laughed while the Young Mistress just stared at him awkwardly. All of a sudden, something hit Jin Ling. He felt like he was sinking into a void of fatigue, with thousands of hands dragging him down. His vision blurred as his mind had spun dizzily, with a scent of tiredness overwhelming his nose. I'm so tired, he mouthed those words, but Sizhui paid him no mind.
He felt like he had been sent free—like all the grudges inside of him had been released and dispersed.
A darkness shrouded within his vision and then... he drifted off to sleep.
Sizhui had gasped when he felt a light weight plop right onto his shoulder. It was soft, so soft that it melted against the GusuLan disciple's robe like mochi. "Jin Ling?" He asked. The Young Mistress was already sound asleep, with his head leaning gently against Sizhui's shoulder. Sizhui's body tensed up as he reached out towards Jin Ling, who let out gentle snores from his moisturized peachy lips. The GusuLan disciple shuddered as blush overwhelmed his cheeks.
"W-Wait a second, Jin Ling! Wake up!" Sizhui exclaimed.
No matter how much he had shaken the Young Mistress, he did not wake up. Finally, Sizhui gave up. And the temptation of watching Jin Ling's peaceful sleep was overbearing. He allowed Jin Ling to continue in his adoring light snores, and that only squeezed his heart tighter.
He never witnessed the Young Mistress being so tranquil before. His soothing face was so smooth and appealing, which was nothing the same as his daily expressions.
"Oh, Jin Ling. You overworked yourself during our punishment, didn't you?" Sizhui sighed.
*****
It was like a dream. If Jin Ling was any dumber, he'd mistaken the entire event as a dream.
He woke up to find himself neatly tucked in a warm but firm layer of blankets, which had cloud prints of the GusuLan sect sewed onto. The ceiling had an ominous dark lighting, with only light from the bright cerulean blue sky outside acting as a guidance inside the room. The bed was firm as well, which straightened Jin Ling's back unintentionally. Nevertheless, the Young Mistress was perfectly comfortable as he was. Then, his jaw dropped.
A certain GusuLan disciple was snoozing away right beside him. On the bed as well.
Jin Ling's first instinct was to sit upright and grab his packed pillow to hurl it at the disciple. THUMP went the impact, as Sizhui perked awake with wide open eyes. "Ah, Jin Ling! You're awake already!"
"Y-you bastard! What am I doing in a bed with you?" Jin Ling's face flushed uncontrollably. He cupped his beet red cheeks as his heart clawed at his chest with no haste. "Don't tell me that we did... it?" His voice was lowered to a whisper, but Sizhui had heard it loud and clear. With no seconds to spare, Sizhui's face burned at the mention of 'it'. "No no no! We did not do that!"
Jin Ling heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Sizhui sit up as well. "Then... what happened?"
Sizhui stammered, "you fell asleep from fatigue, and the night was cold, so I decided to bring you back to my room to rest. I thought it'd be impolite for me to step inside of your sleeping quarter without permission, so I brought you to my sleeping quarter. I hope it's acceptable! Nothing happened between us, so you don't need to worry." Sizhui stood up from the bed and bowed. "But I am awfully sorry of my ashamed decision. Please forgive me, Jin Ling."
Jin Ling's beet red face gushed a deeper shade of wine. "You think I'd just forgive you so easily?" Sizhui's face had soured at Jin Ling's response, which the Young Mistress felt responsible for.
"But just this once... I will forgive you." Jin Ling mumbled. Fortunately, Sizhui heard him.
"Oh, thank you, Jin Ling!" Sizhui cheered.
And no matter how much times Jin Ling slapped his pretty face, the blush would not disperse.
*****
"Thank you for the food, Jingyi." Sizhui smiled.
The smiling cultivator handed back the empty bento box towards Jingyi, who only stared at it with... less ambition than before. It was morning, and the two cultivators were outside in front of Jingyi's sleeping quarter. A gentle breeze flew by, snaking down to elegantly dance on their skin. "Hey, Sizhui." Jingyi had said plainly.
His voice was devoid from his normal excitement, and that concerned Sizhui. "Yes, Jingyi?"
"Tell me the truth. Did you actually enjoy the food?"