Chapter 6: Sharing the Same Pillow

When Beigong Qiyi finished bathing and ran back to “The Idle Residence” completely naked, Beigong Juechen was already lying flat on the bed, eyes half-closed as if dozing. Qiyi quickly dove under the covers, curling himself snugly into Juechen’s embrace. Juechen opened his eyes and used internal energy to warm Qiyi’s body. “Why are you so cold?”

Qiyi glared up at him, feigning grievance, “Isn’t it because you took the bath towel away?” Juechen’s lips quirked, as if suppressing a smile. “You’re warm now.” Qiyi pretended not to notice the double meaning, resting his head on Juechen’s smooth, rounded shoulder and laughed, “Big Brother is always impressive.” Juechen shook his head, letting Qiyi be. Suddenly, Qiyi lifted his head, brushing the man’s sharp jaw with his hair.

Juechen patted the bare bottom, frowning, “What is it now?” Qiyi swallowed the words he’d been about to say, muttered under his breath, and covered his own bottom with his hand, wrinkling his delicate nose. “Why did you hit me there?” Juechen, eyes still closed, snorted softly, “So you do know embarrassment—then stop acting up.”

Qiyi gave a soft hum. The young boy, his voice still unbroken, sounded clear as a lark, with an indescribable melody and allure. His tender, bare skin pressed against Juechen, who was only eighteen, at the peak of youth. His long lashes quivered; Juechen shifted ever so slightly, putting some space between them.

Qiyi pressed his lips in dissatisfaction, but didn’t cling any closer. He gazed at the man’s chiseled profile. “Big Brother, is there anyone else at the manor?” Juechen kept his eyes closed, seemingly unwilling to respond. Qiyi lay bored beside him, yet heard the man’s low, slightly hoarse voice, “Aren’t the two of us people?” Qiyi pouted, shaking his head. “I mean, besides us.”

Outside, rain had begun to fall, a gentle patter. Juechen opened his eyes, turned to face Qiyi. In the dim golden candlelight, his dark eyes glinted with an amber hue. He reached out, pressing his palm over Qiyi’s eyes, his voice deep. “Of course there are others. Now sleep.”

With Juechen’s broad, steady hand covering his eyes, Qiyi had no choice but to close them. He held Juechen’s wrist, inhaling the faint fragrance from the man’s body, and drifted into a deep sleep.

Juechen remembered what Beigong Li had told him long ago: “Qiyi is your younger brother. You are bound by blood and kinship, inseparable. You must protect him, always.”

As if confirming Juechen’s words, when Qiyi awoke the next morning, he heard the tinkling of ornaments and caught a whiff of fragrance. It felt as though he’d returned to the past. The maids, seeing him awake, hurried to dress and groom him, respectfully escorting him from “The Idle Residence” once ready.

Rain had fallen throughout the night, but now the day was bright and clear. “Li Manor,” cleansed by the downpour, still bore traces of blood in the courtyard, though much had been washed away. Several maids were scrubbing the ground with buckets and mops. When Qiyi emerged, they knelt without regard for the cleanliness of the floor. Qiyi gestured for them to rise and strode off toward Juechen’s “Singing Pavilion.”

Inside the “Singing Pavilion,” every item was exquisitely refined. Qiyi peered through the pale yellow gauze curtain, catching a glimpse of a brown, intricately carved hardwood bed. He lifted the curtain and walked straight to the man who lay reclining on a scarlet fox-fur couch, idly playing with a sword.

Juechen glanced at him coolly, tossed a book toward him, and said, “How did you know I was here?” He pointed to the newly changed dark green brocade robe Qiyi wore and smiled, “Because Big Brother had to return to change clothes.” He raised the book in his hand. “What is this?”

“Internal cultivation manual,” Juechen replied blandly. Qiyi’s eyes lit up and he eagerly flipped through it, studying intently. The deeper he read, the more profound and elusive the text became. Qiyi’s beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his brows knitted tighter with concentration. Then he felt a powerful surge of internal energy enter his body, unblocking the tangled meridians one by one. Heat coursed through him, and he focused, absorbing the chaotic energy.

Suddenly, Qiyi opened his eyes and grinned at Juechen, “Thank you, Big Brother!” Juechen’s sword-shaped brows relaxed, lips curving in a slight smile. “Not bad.” Qiyi’s smile grew brighter. “It’s all thanks to you for clearing my meridians.”

Juechen stood and suddenly extended his hand toward Qiyi. Qiyi, already wary, quickly leapt back, narrowly avoiding the strike. Juechen nodded, his lips lifting in a genuine smile.

If Qiyi had to describe Juechen’s smile, it would be like the first thaw of ice and snow—stunning yet utterly unpretentious, illuminating the entire landscape in an instant.

Qiyi’s heart skipped a beat. He hurriedly averted his gaze in flustered silence. Juechen noticed his sudden quiet and frowned, asking in a low voice, “What’s wrong?” Qiyi shook his head, lowering his eyes. “Compared to you, I feel I fall far short.”

Juechen made no effort to comfort him, only raised his brows and chuckled softly. “Compared to me, you certainly still have a long way to go.” Qiyi pursed his lips unobtrusively and nodded, “There’s still much for me to learn from you.”

Juechen scoffed, handing over the sword he had been playing with. Qiyi took it. The scabbard was plain, save for a single emerald gemstone set near the top—no other embellishments. Qiyi gripped the hilt and tried to draw the blade, but it remained stubbornly sheathed. Now, his curiosity was truly piqued.

He glanced at Juechen, who had reclined once more on the couch, watching him with a half-smile. Qiyi narrowed his eyes, left hand gripping the scabbard, right hand on the hilt, channeling all his internal energy into his palm. He pulled hard; the blade moved slightly but then returned to its sheath. Unwilling to give up, Qiyi bit his lip and prepared to try again.

But a strong, pale hand took the sword away. Juechen patted the young boy’s hair and said calmly, “When I was your age, I couldn’t draw this sword either. Wait a few more years.” Qiyi, hearing this, nodded reluctantly. “Alright.” Then he added, “Then show me how you draw it, Big Brother.”

Juechen shook his head. “If I draw it for you now, it’s nothing like the feeling you’ll have when you do it yourself.” Qiyi thought it over and didn’t insist, instead picking up the internal cultivation manual and studying it carefully once more.

The room fell into a tranquil silence, filled only with the subtle scent of flowers.