Chapter 64

A stream of tears traced down Xue Tuzi's face, his vision blurring as the memories surged forward. The orphanage was in chaos—screams echoing through the halls, insect demons tearing through everything in their path. He could still see his Gege, running into the madness and never coming back. The ache in his chest was unbearable, like a hollow void.

Shudu crouched on the table, his bare feet curled against the wood. His thumb brushed away the tears staining Xue Tuzi's cheek, his movements strangely tender, like a predator caressing prey. Before Xue Tuzi could react, Shudu leaned in, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Xue Tuzi's skin before their lips met. The kiss was fleeting but electric, a deliberate intrusion into a space Xue Tuzi guarded fiercely.

Snapping out of his shock, Xue Tuzi jolted back, his head whipping away as if the touch had burned him. His face contorted in disgust, cheeks flushed a furious red. "Ugh!" he spat, his voice trembling with rage. He scrubbed at his lips with the back of his hand, as though he could erase the taste entirely.

Shudu remained unmoved, his tongue sweeping over his own lips, savoring the ghost of sweetness left behind. But the taste soured quickly, leaving behind a bitterness he couldn't quite place. "I can't help myself," he murmured, his tone calm yet laced with amusement. "I hate seeing a beauty in distress." His eyes softened as he looked at Xue Tuzi, but the smile that spread across his face revealed sharp teeth, a grin that was mischievous.

"I've never had dumplings before," Shudu said suddenly, his voice quieter now. He glanced down at the empty bowl in front of him, a flicker of regret shadowing his features. "Should've taken my time. I barely tasted them before shoveling them down."

Xue Tuzi blinked, startled by the sudden shift in conversation. His anger wavered as he caught the hint of vulnerability in Shudu's expression. "You've never had dumplings before?" he repeated, his voice softer now, curiosity creeping into his tone.

"Nope." Shudu's gaze dropped to the table, his clawed fingers absently tracing its surface. "When I was human, I ate whatever garbage I could find. A street rat, scurrying through alleyways. I fought dogs for scraps. Whatever I managed to swallow was food." His voice carried a quiet bitterness, not self-pity but the weight of a life long gone.

Xue Tuzi's anger faded entirely, replaced by something he didn't want to acknowledge. He studied Shudu's face and for a moment, he didn't know whether to feel pity or unease.

Shudu remembered staggering through a shadowed alley, his vision swimming from the gnawing ache of hunger. His body was little more than skin stretched over fragile bones, his ribs jutting out like the framework of a collapsing structure. His lips were cracked and dry, his breath shallow, and his bare feet stung from the jagged stones that littered the narrow street. The cold bit into him, but hunger was the true predator, tearing into him relentlessly.

Ahead, he spotted a pack of dogs gathered around a heap of discarded trash, their growls low and threatening as they tore into scraps of rotting meat. Desperation overtook him, drowning out reason. With trembling hands, he raised his makeshift sword—a broken piece of wood he'd scavenged days ago—and swung wildly at the dogs. He struck them with what little strength he could muster, his blows clumsy but fueled by sheer survival. They snarled and snapped at him, but he held his ground, fighting for a shred of meat like a beast among beasts. When the pack finally retreated, he fell to his knees, clutching the filthy scrap with shaking fingers before shoving it into his mouth, ignoring the rancid taste.

Hunger was a constant shadow. He wandered from village to village, driven not by hope but by the primal need to eat. Each step was met with hostility—vendors would shout at him, their faces twisted in contempt as they chased him away with sticks and stones. "Little rat," they sneered, "filthy bastard!" If he begged, he was beaten. If he stole, he was hunted. No matter how hard he tried, he was always met with fists or curses.

The nights were the worst. He would curl into himself, stomach groaning, the emptiness inside him a black hole that swallowed everything—comfort, hope, even tears. He ate insects to get through the days, choking down worms and beetles, their slimy bodies sliding down his throat as he gagged and cried. But even the tears dried up eventually, leaving his eyes raw and dry, incapable of weeping. Pain, sorrow, fear—they all dissolved into a hollow, all-consuming void.

And yet, despite it all, he clung to life. There was no joy in surviving, no relief in drawing breath, but a stubborn will refused to let go. Even as he scraped the bottom of existence, crawling in filth and despair, he wanted to live. Not because he believed in a better tomorrow, but because the spark of survival refused to be extinguished. 

"Have you…" Xue Tuzi hesitated, his voice faltering as he looked down, clutching tightly at the hems of his robes. His brows furrowed in conflict, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. Finally, he forced the words out, his gaze lifting to pierce through Shudu. "Have you ever… had human flesh?"

The question struck Shudu like a blade. For a moment, he was speechless, the silence between them stretching unnaturally long. Memories surged to the forefront of his mind, ones he had buried deep, locked away where they couldn't torment him. But now, they clawed their way back, vivid and sharp.

The taste of human flesh was something he'd prefer to forget. It wasn't hunger that had driven him to it, but cruelty. Madam Hua's had starved him deliberately, though the sensation of an empty stomach was nothing new to him. He was used to the gnawing ache, the hollow pain of days without food. But her punishments were never just about hunger.

She had locked him in a tiny, suffocating cell with no windows. The only light came from a thin crack in the wall, a reminder of a world he couldn't reach. Days would pass in suffocating darkness until she would finally come, the sound of her footsteps making his skin crawl. She'd throw human limbs into his cell, their lifeless weight hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

"You will not eat? Then starve!" she'd sneer, her voice sharp and filled with venom as she slammed the cell door shut.

As a child, Shudu had always been stubborn. Even as his stomach churned in agony, the acid inside burning like fire, he refused to touch the flesh. He let it rot, watched as maggots crawled through the decaying meat, as flies swarmed the spoiled remains. The stench filled his cell, sickening and inescapable, but still, he refused.

He could follow Madam Hua's orders without hesitation—killing, laying in bed with her—but eating human flesh was a line he would not cross.

Her patience wore thin, and when it finally snapped, she arrived with something even more horrifying. In her hands, she held a small, tender human brain, no larger than what could belong to a child. Her long nails dug into the soft tissue as she glared at him with her wide, insect-like eyes.

"You are no longer human! Why are you still loyal to them?" she hissed, her voice seething with rage. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back as she pressed the brain to his lips.

Shudu thrashed, his tiny body trembling in fear and revulsion, but Madam Hua was relentless. She shoved the slimy, putrid flesh into his mouth, her nails scraping against his gums as he gagged and choked. "I've given you everything!" she screamed, her voice rising in fury. "I took care of you when they discarded you! And you dare oppose me?"

Tears and snot streamed down Shudu's face as he gasped for air, the taste of the brain flooding his senses—a rancid, sour flavor that made his stomach revolt. He retched violently, expelling the contents back onto the floor, the smell of vomit mingling with the rotting flesh.

But Madam Hua wasn't done. Her anger was a storm, wild and merciless. "You will eat it!" she snarled, forcing him down and shoving the regurgitated meat back into his mouth. Shudu clawed at her hands, his cries muffled as she held his jaw shut, forcing him to swallow his own vomit.

That day burned itself into his soul. The texture, the taste, the overwhelming shame and hatred—it all became a wound that never fully healed. From that moment on, the thought of human flesh filled him with disgust so deep it turned his stomach.

He vowed never to eat it again. No matter what happened, no matter how hungry or desperate he became, he would rather die than taste it again.

"Well…" Xue Tuzi sighed, his brows knitting together into a deep frown. His fingers still gripped the hems of his robes, though his hold had slackened. He was waiting for Shudu to give an answer, even if he already knew it in his heart. All demons craved human flesh. It was a delicacy to them, as natural as breathing. Why would Shudu be any different?

"I hate it," Shudu finally replied, his tone casual, brushing off the question as if it were nothing. "Tried it once. Not for me." Though his words were light, he couldn't entirely hide the shadow that flickered in his eyes.

Xue Tuzi's gaze lingered on him, searching his face for something unspoken. The tension in his hands eased further, his grip loosening completely. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he dropped his gaze to the empty bowl in Shudu's hands. His lashes cast delicate shadows against his pale cheeks. "Do you want more?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

Shudu's eyes widened, and his lips curled into a grin that stretched wide and toothy. "If they're your dumplings, I'll eat them," he said, his voice playful, his tongue flicking across his lips in anticipation. The mischievous glint in his eyes returned as he leaned forward, intent on stealing a kiss.

But before he could, Xue Tuzi abruptly stood, causing Shudu to lose his balance and fall face-first off the table. He hit the floor with a dull thud, the bowl clattering from his hands. The sharp sound of breaking porcelain echoed through the room.

Xue Tuzi turned to look at the crumpled figure on the floor, his expression deadpan as his lips pressed into a firm line. "You'd better clean that up," he said, voice firm but exasperated.

From the table, Jiao Jiao, the little Gu worm, crawled down to the floor. The tiny creature made its way to Shudu, patting him on the head with its stubby nubs in a consoling gesture. Shudu groaned as he pushed himself up, reluctantly gathering the shattered pieces of porcelain. His movements were clumsy, and he winced as the sharp edges cut into his forearms, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake.

Xue Tuzi, now distracted by the commotion, slammed a fresh bowl of dumplings onto the table before walking over to where Shudu knelt, Jiao Jiao still perched nearby. "You're bleeding all over the place," Xue Tuzi scolded, his tone sharp but his steps brisk. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "Let me see."

Without waiting for a response, Xue Tuzi grabbed Shudu's wounded arm and began wrapping the cloth tightly around the cuts. Shudu hissed, his brows furrowing as he whispered, "Gentle," into Xue Tuzi's ear. The sharpness of his tone forced Xue Tuzi to slow his movements, wrapping the cloth with more care.

"There," Xue Tuzi said, releasing his arm. But Shudu groaned in exaggerated pain, his face twisting dramatically. "It's too tight…" he muttered, his voice laced with mock agony.

Xue Tuzi's face shifted into a mixture of worry and confusion as he reached for Shudu's arm again. "Does it really hurt that much?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice. Slowly, he unwrapped the cloth, only for his gaze to fall on perfectly healed skin. His brows twitched in irritation.

"You were playing me!" Xue Tuzi snapped, smacking Shudu on the head with the now blood-stained handkerchief.

Shudu laughed, rubbing his head with a grin that showed no remorse. "I like seeing a worried little bunny," he teased, his voice softening as he reached out, wrapping an arm around Xue Tuzi's waist and pulling him closer. His dark, wanton eyes locked onto Xue Tuzi's face, the playfulness in his expression giving way to something deeper. "You were worried about me, weren't you?"

Xue Tuzi shoved him away, his cheeks heating slightly. "You wish," he snapped, turning on his heel. He tugged the ribbon from his hair, letting the silken strands cascade down his back in a waterfall. Avoiding Shudu's gaze, he scooped Jiao Jiao into his arms and began walking away, his steps brisk.

Shudu wasn't so easily deterred. He darted ahead, cutting Xue Tuzi off at the doorway, his grin teasing. "Were you worried about me?" he asked again, leaning in close, his voice low and insistent.

Xue Tuzi rolled his eyes, flicking his hair over his shoulder with a haughty gesture. "I guess I felt sorry for a bug," he said snobbishly, his tone dripping with mock indifference. Without another glance, he swept past Shudu, his hair swaying rhythmically with each step as he disappeared out of the kitchen.

Several days had passed, and Xue Laohu still had not awakened. Each night, Shudu lay restlessly in bed, tossing and turning. His eyes would drift to the empty space beside him, the absence of Xue Tuzi like a thorn pressing into his chest. Unable to ignore the nagging unease, he would sneak down to the kitchen, drawn by the soft glow of the firelight.

There, as always, Xue Tuzi stood, diligently making dumplings. His movements were meticulous, almost mechanical, as though the repetition could stave off the worry etched into his brow. Tears ran silently down his face, falling into the flour-dusted counter, but he didn't stop. By his side, Jiao Jiao attempted to console him, rubbing his big, fat head against Xue Tuzi's cheek and wagging his stubby tail to wipe away the tears. Despite the little creature's efforts, the sorrow clinging to Xue Tuzi was obvious.

When the dumplings were ready, Xue Tuzi would carry them carefully, almost reverently, to his Shizun's bedside. He would place the bowl down, sit beside Xue Laohu, and wait. But no matter how many nights passed, his Shizun remained still, his chest rising and falling faintly in the throes of slumber.

Shudu watched this ritual from the shadows, his frown deepening as he lingered in the doorway. His sharp gaze softened, however, when he saw Xue Tuzi gently caressing Xue Laohu's face.

"Shizun…" Xue Tuzi's voice was barely a whisper, trembling as he traced the contours of Xue Laohu's features. His touch was tender, as if afraid his Shizun might shatter under his fingertips. "Please wake up," he begged, his voice cracking as fresh tears spilled from his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his head against the edge of the bed. His quiet sobs filled the room until exhaustion claimed him, and he fell asleep there, slumped over his Shizun's side.

Shudu stepped through the open window, his form slipping into the room soundlessly. He crouched beside Xue Tuzi, his fingers brushing away the tear tracks staining the beauty's cheeks.

"I hate seeing beauties sad," Shudu murmured, his voice laced with irritation as he frowned. His gaze shifted to Xue Laohu, his lips curling into a scowl. Pointing a slender finger at the man's forehead, he growled, "You're making him cry. Wake up already."

His jaw clenched in frustration, and without another word, he turned and vanished into the dim light of the early morning.

As the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, they poured into the room, bathing Xue Laohu's face in warm, golden light. His brow furrowed, the glow seeming to stir something within him. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, blinking against the brightness.

"Shizun!"

The simultaneous cries of Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng shattered the stillness. Both disciples jolted awake, scrambling to their feet. They practically fell over one another in their haste to get closer to their Shizun, their voices overlapping in frantic joy.

Xue Laohu's tired eyes swept over them, his expression one of exasperated amusement. "I wake, and the first thing I see is the two of you fighting," he grumbled, his deep voice gravelly from disuse.

Immediately, Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng froze, their faces burning with embarrassment. They quickly cupped their hands and bowed in perfect unison. "This disciple greets Shizun," they said, their voices trembling with reverence and relief.

A hearty laugh boomed from the doorway, drawing everyone's attention. "Ho ho! Grandmaster Xue, you've finally awakened!" Sect Leader Mao strode into the room, his long robes swishing with every step. He stroked his thick beard, his eyes gleaming with joy. "You've chosen such excellent disciples. They have not left your side once."

Xue Laohu's gaze returned to his disciples, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Xue Tuzi and Li Zhameng both turned pink under his attention.