Chapter 35

He couldn't tell if it was pitiful or pathetic.

Ning Shiting slept in the apothecary all afternoon.

When Gu Tingshuang left the courtyard, she instructed the guards and maidservants at the gate to keep an eye on Ning Shiting. After that, she returned to the Shizi's residence to rest.

Ning Shiting usually frequented only two places: the study and Gu Tingshuang’s Shizi residence. After the incense conference, Fenlü also joined under his command, so Ning Shiting had the pharmacy tidied up, and a small room was specially set up as his own space for crafting incense.

This place was close to the Baicao Garden and also near the Shizi's residence. The servants here, who had never seen the master before, gradually became familiar with Ning Shiting's habits and temperament, learning how to attend to him.

However, Ning Shiting wasn’t the type to be difficult to serve; most of the time, they only needed to wait outside.

A few days ago, Hua Qiu, the maidservant in charge of the East Courtyard, also came to give instructions, saying that Ting Shu would be leaving in a few days. With no trusted aide by Ning Shiting’s side, she asked them to be more attentive and diligent in their work.

Ning Shiting had never napped here before, so the few attendants in charge of the pharmacy discussed it but still weren’t sure if they could take good care of him. Therefore, they called for help outside the Shizi's residence and had Hulu come over to assist.

A young attendant whispered, "Gongzi is asleep; what should we do now?"

Hulu took a quick glance into the room and quietly instructed, "I heard from Sister Hua Qiu before that when Gongzi is asleep, you should place water and charcoal near him, and the window should be left open. If it snows, put a warming pan in Gongzi's bed, and the incense should be changed to Qi Yan Nine Points Incense. There's nothing else. Gongzi's spirit hasn’t been well lately, and he seems to often have nightmares. Set up a protective array outside to keep away any malicious wandering spirits. If Gongzi is startled awake by a nightmare, prepare a bowl of hot nine-coloured deer milk."

"Gongzi is having nightmares?"

The attendant behind him wanted to ask more.

Hulu glanced inside again and suddenly his expression became serious, signalling with a finger to his lips for silence.

Just as they mentioned Ning Shiting’s nightmare, they noticed movement from the person inside the room as if he was restless in his sleep.

Ning Shiting's brows were tightly furrowed, his lips pressed together, pale and colourless, with a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. His eyes were slightly red as if he had been crying in his dream. The expression on his face was pained—a clear sign of being trapped in a nightmare. It was the kind of dream where the person desperately wants to wake up but cannot, leaving only a sense of emptiness, futility, and melancholy.

Hulu was startled when he saw this, and softly called out, "Gongzi, Gongzi?"

But Ning Shiting did not wake up.

The servants, in their anxiety, were at a loss, circling round in a panic. Finally, in a moment of inspiration, Hulu spotted some leftover mugwort leaves on the table. He lit them with spiritual fire and held them near Ning Shiting's nose.

The calming, mind-clearing scent of the burning herbs irritated his senses, causing Ning Shiting to cough violently in his sleep before finally opening his eyes.

When he woke up, he was drenched in cold sweat.

Ning Shiting, breathing slightly heavily, looked up to see the concerned gazes of everyone in the room.

His inner garment was soaked through, and he pinched himself hard, the pain bringing him back to reality.

Ning Shiting realised that he had been trapped in a nightmare again. He let out a soft laugh and rubbed his face, saying, "I'm fine. You can all leave now."

After saying this, he remembered to ask himself how he ended up here, and then vaguely recalled that the last person he saw before falling asleep was Gu Tingshuang.

He asked, "Where is the Shizi?"

The attendant guarding the garden gate replied, "Dianxia left about half a shichen ago. He said you were asleep and instructed us to take good care of you."

Ning Shiting: "..."

He reached up to touch the side of his neck, where he could still faintly feel a bit of pain.

This young man... has he already gotten to the point where he casually knocks me out whenever he pleases?

Gu Tingshuang's words could be hurtful, and his actions unpredictable. Ning Shiting knew that this young man had a good heart and that there was always a reason behind his actions, so he never held it against him.

These past few days, Ning Shiting had been staying by Gu Tingshuang’s bedside, neglecting the affairs of the residence and having even less time to spend with Ting Shu.

Ting Shu, already unhappy about being sent away, had been feeling even more aggrieved lately, almost to the point of tears. One child kept his grievances to himself, saying nothing, while the other remained silent but coldly distant. Ning Shiting found it all rather headache-inducing.

A servant brought over a calming cup of Nine-Coloured Deer Milk and some tea to soothe his nerves.

Ning Shiting asked, "Where is Ting Shu? Where is he now?"

"Hulu said, Xiao-Shaoye has locked himself in his room, refusing to see anyone. He said he's packing up to leave and doesn't want us to interfere or come out.'"

Ning Shiting replied, "Let him be, ba."

He drank a bit of the Nine-Coloured Deer Milk and then asked for a pouch and some paper and ink, slowly beginning to write a letter.

In his past life, Ting Shu was ten years old when Ning Shiting found him, and at twelve, he gave everything he had, pouring out his heart's blood to save Ning Shiting from an impenetrable layer of mystical ice.

Their acquaintance lasted only two short years.

In his dreams, tears would fall without him knowing when they started.

Back when he was in the Snow City of Dongzhou, he trained and patrolled alongside his comrades, who witnessed his youthful mischief and teenage troubles, treating him like a child.

But later, those people died, and Ning Shiting became more silent, more composed. When he found Ting Shu, he treated the boy just as those who had once cared for him had done—indulging him and protecting him with genuine affection.

They were both orphans, with no close family to rely on. In the coldest of times, they always had each other.

Jiaoren tears were poisonous. Trapped beneath the ice for three days, Ning Shiting had lost all sense of his limbs and body; that single tear became his only source of warmth.

Yet it quickly froze on his cheek, forming into ice that pricked his skin with pain.

He watched as Ting Shu collapsed in his arms, overwhelmed with grief, his voice tinged with the scent and thickness of blood, "You're only twelve, Ting Shu. It was me who held you back."

Ting Shu clung tightly to him, earnestly holding on, and for the first time in two years, the child let himself be vulnerable, pleading, "Hold me, hold me, Gongzi. You say I've lived for twelve years, but in my heart, I've only truly lived for two—since the day you found me, until today. I think that's enough."

With every word he spoke, more blood sprayed from his mouth, staining his silver-white hair.

Each word, each sentence, was heart-wrenching.

Ning Shiting lowered his head and wrote: "For the Ice Mayfly Clan, growth is accompanied by bone-deep pain. Old bones shatter and new ones form. If the fragments are not removed in time, the bones and flesh will deform, making every step in the future feel like walking on blades."

"The Baili family of Xianzhou is a prominent and noble clan. In the future, the Baili lineage will clash with the Qing King's line, leading to a great conflict. Do not get involved within the next three years. Claim that you're suffering from bone pain and need to find a secluded place to recuperate. I’ve already arranged everything. Your second uncle, a retired Immortal Master who has no involvement in politics, will take you in. His family is safe. When you arrive, just say you're the grand disciple of Bu Cangqiong, a disciple of the Fenyu incense master."

In his past life, after Ting Shu's death, Baili Hongzhou turned against the Qing Wang, and the two families became mortal enemies. War was inevitable. Ning Shiting, knowing all this, did everything he could to plan a safe path for Ting Shu, ensuring he would be with family.

At the very least, Baili Hongzhou seemed to care deeply for this Didi. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken up a sword and stormed into the Qing Wang’s residence, demanding justice for Ting Shu's life.

Ning Shiting harboured a bit of selfishness in his letter.

Ting Shu was always jealous—first of Gu Tingshuang, and then of his disciples.

As Ning Shiting wrote this part, he felt a mix of helplessness and amusement. In the end, he decided to give Ting Shu the title of "disciple," hoping the child would be happy when he saw it.

Ning Shiting didn’t know what else to write, so he read the letter several times before folding it and placing it in the pouch.

A servant offered, "Shall we deliver this to Baili Xiao-Gongzi for you, Gongzi?"

Ning Shiting replied, "No need to disturb him. Let Qingniao deliver it."

Qingniao gracefully appeared, picked up the pouch, and flew up into the sky, heading east.

However, it hadn’t even covered half the distance when the Golden-Backed Wolves patrolling the peak of Spirit Mountian noticed the commotion. Moving with a speed beyond mortal comprehension, one of them rushed towards the Qingniao, tearing it down in mid-air, and sending it plummeting to the ground.

These wolves were Gu Tingshuang’s loyal servants, always keeping an eye on any news related to the Qing King's residence.

When the letter reached Gu Tingshuang, he was a bit surprised. "Who did that Jiaoren write to?"

The little wolf, after listening to the tale told by the birds outside the courtyard, whimpered and informed him that the letter was written by Ning Shiting for someone who was about to leave.

The letter, stained with Qingniao’s blood, was somewhat crumpled, and one corner was torn open. With his sharp eyes, Gu Tingshuang immediately noticed the words "will break with the Qing King's lineage." He then decisively tore off the outer wrapping and read the letter from beginning to end.

The letter was very much in Ning Shiting's style, written with restraint as if saying a single word of reluctance or care was an immense struggle for him.

Yet, every word and sentence was meticulously planning Ting Shu's future.

"He knew the Baili family would break with my father?" Gu Tingshuang frowned. "The Baili clan has produced renowned generals for generations, and the Immortal Emperor has long been wary of them. It’s more likely they would ally with my father."

The little wolf couldn't speak, but it looked up at him with admiration, wagging its tail.

Gu Tingshuang pondered for a moment.

He recalled the fragment he had seen in Ning Shiting's memory earlier that afternoon.

Would Ting Shu really die?

Or was what he saw just a part of Ning Shiting's nightmare, not a real past or future?

He never speculated about people's thoughts—he simply probed directly. Ning Shiting had many inexplicable qualities, and his emotional reactions suggested that he believed in everything within his nightmares.

This person was either completely insane or possessed unparalleled wisdom, the only one who truly understood.

So many signs, so many doubts.

After a long while, Gu Tingshuang tossed the letter back. "Seal it up and send it over again. From now on, any letters that Jiaoren sends out should be brought to me first."

Just as the little wolf came over to retrieve the letter, he hesitated, holding onto the paper a moment longer.

He glanced down at it.

Such careful, cautious wording.

He couldn't tell if it was pitiful or pathetic.

"Send it, ba."

He let go.

The next day, Baili Hongzhou's envoys arrived as scheduled.

They came only to take Ting Shu away; the army would arrive the following day. It was said that General Baili was eager to bring his younger brother back, so he had sent scouts ahead of time.

Everyone in the Qing King’s residence got up early that day. The sky was still a pale gray when the procession began to escort Ting Shu out of the mansion. The ceremony was grand and solemn, befitting that of a benefactor.

When Ning Shiting returned to the mansion that day, the sky was the same—a pale gray, with a mist that seemed to press down on them.

As the sky began to drizzle, Ning Shiting, dressed in his formal robes, sat in the sedan chair meant for receiving and sending off guests.

He was wearing red, with jewels adorning his forehead, but this time, there was no twelve-year-old child holding an umbrella, standing on tiptoe to invite him down.

According to tradition, the procession was supposed to end once they left the mansion, so they wouldn’t follow any further as it wasn’t part of the ceremony.

Ning Shiting lifted the curtain, watching as the crane-drawn carriage carrying Ting Shu gradually disappeared around the street corner.

From beginning to end, Ting Shu didn’t come to speak to him, nor did he let him catch another glimpse.

After sending Ting Shu off, Ning Shiting took an umbrella for himself and said to those around him, "You can all go. I’d like to take a walk alone."

Everyone withdrew.

Ning Shiting walked under the umbrella, instinctively touching his sleeve—Ting Shu used to play tricks on him, sneaking into his sleeve in his invisible form when he wasn’t paying attention.

Sometimes it was to hide a snack, sometimes a small trinket, and once, even a round, chubby hedgehog.

Now his sleeve was empty, and there was no letter in return.

He chuckled softly, "No letter, then no letter."

As he turned to return to the study, he noticed a figure in a wheelchair at the end of the road under the pale sky.

Gu Tingshuang, like him, had come alone.

He sat far away, holding his umbrella, without even the little wolf by his side.

Through the misty drizzle, it was like that fleeting glance when Ning Shiting first entered the mansion. Only this time, Gu Tingshuang was in the open, and Ning Shiting was the one concealed.

"Your face is full of sorrow, like the wrinkles of a bitter melon. Ning Shiting," Gu Tingshuang said.

Ning Shiting paused, instinctively touching his own face, then smiled and asked, "Is it that awful?"

"It’s awful."

Gu Tingshuang replied.

"But no matter how awful it is, I'll have to endure it. If you stay in the mansion for another ten or twenty years, even if my father doesn’t see you, it’ll just be the two of us staring at each other. I’ll bear it, and so will you. Now that the brat’s gone, everything you do has to be under my command. I can do whatever I want with you, right?"

Despite the somewhat sinister tone, Ning Shiting smiled.

He softly replied, "It’s fine."

That “fine" was said with some reluctance.

Gu Tingshuang noticed it, but this time, he didn’t care. Instead, he felt a certain satisfaction and comfort.

So what if he was an Ice Mayfly spirit?

For the next ten, twenty years, or even longer, they would continue to torment each other.

He would stay within Ning Shiting's sight, reminding him, keeping him on edge.

There were many things in this world that couldn’t be held onto, and he had learned that lesson four years ago.

It didn’t matter whom the Jiaoren liked or cared about.

Because he would remain in the Qing Wang’s residence, and the world would say that Ning Shiting was hopelessly in love with the Qing Wang. For the rest of his life, the Qing Wang's residence would be the place they would be together.