dreams spun in berries & fluff

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    Chapter 45

    That evening, Cheongyeon sensed something was amiss.

    Poor Jihong, his hand still wrapped in bandages, seemed utterly distracted as he delivered the evening meal. Normally, he would have praised the master profusely while Cheongyeon forced down his food, but tonight his eyes were vacant, staring off into space.

    “Perhaps the injury to his hand was worse than it seemed.”

    Still, he had appeared fine just moments ago.

    Cheongyeon cautiously glanced at him as he ate—sometimes swallowing, sometimes spitting out bites—but Jihong seemed oblivious.

    “You must finish your meal.”

    No longer pitying him, Cheongyeon concluded this man was certainly more malicious than even the Heavenly Demon. Otherwise, how could he inflict such cruel acts without remorse?

    “There’s one piece of meat left.”

    “I don’t see it.”

    “It’s right under your chopsticks.”

    “Only the eyes of the virtuous can see it. I’m too wicked.”

    “You, lady of the Heavenly Demon Cult, cannot be so unkind.”

    “You’re teasing me now?”

    Cheongyeon stifled the urge to throw the last piece at Jihong’s face and forced it into his mouth. The vile flavor was no less abominable than ever.

    After the meal, Jihong still wore a dazed look as he collected the empty dishes. Alone again in the room, Cheongyeon’s loneliness overwhelmed him, and he turned to an uninspiring book. Lost in the indecipherable text or merely observing the characters, he looked up only to find dusk settling beyond the door.

    “Huh?”

    He noticed the usual shadow that guarded the door was gone.

    “What’s this?”

    He closed the book and crept quietly to the door, listening intently, but no sound came from outside.

    Could it be
 empty?

    Usually, when Jihong was absent from his post, others from the guard took over—likely from the same order. Had Jihong’s distraction led to this oversight?

    Cheongyeon tapped the door with his fingers, whispering,

    “Hello?”

    No answer. Raising his voice, he tried again.

    “Is anyone there?”

    Still silence. His trembling heart struggled to calm as he pushed the door open little by little. Peering outside, he saw no one—not a single ant.

    There was truly no one.

    Such laxity was suspicious given the intense surveillance he had endured. Not even locking the door. Was it a ploy?

    Still


    He couldn’t let such an opportunity slip away. The chance that Jihong genuinely forgot to post a guard was small, but not impossible.

    Cheongyeon rushed back to the bed and slipped a pillow beneath the blanket. He molded several ceramic vessels into the shape of a person, enough to deceive at a glance that someone lay beneath the covers.

    Having set the curtain meticulously, Cheongyeon readied himself for escape. Even if caught, he resolved not to give up without a try, and stepped carefully outside the door.

    Xinjiang’s wide temperature swings were real. Cheongyeon shivered, curling up to keep warm. He chose only dark, shadowed paths while moving, avoiding anyone. Even for late night, the absence of people felt strange, and he contemplated turning back.

    One problem remained—

    Where am I?

    His attempt to memorize the terrain with Jihong while out had been futile. The more he walked, the stranger the paths became.

    I’m not usually this bad with directions.

    Even walking straight seemed to bring him back to where he started. If he didn’t get lost completely and wander all night, it would be a blessing.

    Could this be the 진식?

    He recalled a scene from an old martial novel, where the hero lost his sense of direction after entering a similar maze, wandering aimlessly. Perhaps this was a trap meant to trick him by leaving the path open.

    After circling again and again, a new path appeared after some time. Unlike the hedges and pavilions before, an open field with a small forest of trees now unfolded. Hopeful he’d escaped the trap, Cheongyeon quickened his pace.

    Then, a cold voice rang clearly from the woods.

    “What do you think you’re running around like that for?”

    Startled, Cheongyeon froze, then retreated swiftly, knowing well whose voice it was.

    Damn it


    Of all places to run into him, it had to be near Muho’s lair. He must have already known Cheongyeon was wandering outside.

    Meeting him meant any escape was doomed. Returning by the same route only meant more wandering.

    Trapped, he stammered out a greeting.

    “Ah—you again. I hope I haven’t been interfering with your work?”

    “Come here.”

    “I was just going back inside
”

    “Should I come with you?”

    “You’d better. I’m going.”

    Though certain Muho would not kill him outright, Cheongyeon was far from unafraid. His voice alone instilled fear. Trembling, he cautiously followed a path into the trees.

    Soon, what unfurled before him sent a chill down his spine. The spot he had wandered into was none other than an outdoor bath where Muho bathed. Seeing Muho sitting in the water made him shut his eyes tight. No fairy, he felt like a woodsman spying on someone’s bathing.

    “I-I didn’t come here on purpose. Just
”

    “You ran away.”

    “I didn’t run! I, uh, came for water since the door was unattended
 and ended up here, haha.”

    Muho stared hard, disbelief in his eyes.

    “Maybe I should not only sever his meridians, but crush his bones.”

    Though his voice threatened, there was sincerity. “That guy” obviously meant Jihong—the man who’d failed to guard the door properly. Remembering the crushed, blue hand he saw during the day made Cheongyeon dizzy.

    Worried Jihong might truly suffer, Cheongyeon cautiously approached Muho and perched on a rock nearby. The gathering dusk thankfully obscured the water.

    “Don’t be too hard on him. He probably just forgot. People make mistakes when working.”

    Though absurd to defend the man who’d imprisoned and tormented him, Cheongyeon reasoned that Jihong, too, was merely a subordinate following orders.

    Muho sighed, a weary look crossing his face.

    “No wonder he was hunting for the trap expert all day.”

    “Huh?”

    Cheongyeon hadn’t heard clearly and bowed his head slightly. A cold breeze rustled, making him shiver.

    “Brr, it’s cold.”

    “Come in.”

    Muho’s flat voice startled Cheongyeon, who shook his head.

    “Huh? No, it’s not that cold!”

    “You said you were going to bathe.”

    “I’ll do it in my room.”

    The message in Muho’s unblinking eyes was crystal clear: If you don’t come in, I will crush your meridians.

    Nervously, Cheongyeon pointed at his clothes, asking, “I’m still wearing clothes, you know?”

    “Then you’ll undress before coming in.”

    “
”

    No, that wasn’t it. He had no intention of doing anything in the bath with Muho.

    Seeing hesitation, Muho grabbed Cheongyeon’s wrist and before he fully realized, yanked sharply.

    A splash echoed and water sprayed everywhere. Cheongyeon surfaced suddenly, wiping his face. The shock made his eyes and nose sting.

    “You really are
”

    Turning to scold Muho, Cheongyeon froze. The distance between them was scant—less than a span. Muho was naked, his lower body submerged, but broad shoulders and chest bare.

    What a magnificent chest.

    Cheongyeon’s eyes briefly wandered, then he forced himself to turn away. Surely, two grown men wouldn’t behave like this together.

    He quietly slid away and said, “I’m going. Going back to my room.”

    “Where?”

    Muho’s low voice came, and strong arms wrapped around his waist. Flustered, Cheongyeon struggled to escape, but it was no use.

    “Hey, let go! No need to hold so tight!”

    His desperate cries fell on deaf ears. Muho pulled him close and whispered in his ear,

    “Try to run, and I’ll break your ankles.”

    The subtle menace was clear.

    This is maddening. I feel like I’ll go insane.

    Suddenly sitting between Muho’s legs, Cheongyeon felt like crying. His long-suppressed realization surged: Muho liked him. Or worse—was obsessed with him.

    How did it come to this? What did I do to deserve such obsession?

    Cheongyeon first realized Muho’s feelings upon discovering the saber left at the inn. Next to it lay papers densely inscribed with the names Cheon Muho and Yu Cheongyeon. He was plagued with guilt.

    He had thought it a fleeting adolescent crush, but after nine years, it had endured.

    Under the obsession of the final boss—the Heavenly Demon—Cheongyeon wished he could just bury his face in the water and die.

     

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