Chapter 55

The contact was different—more vivid, more palpable, as if the memory of that previous touch had come flooding back, even sharper than before.

Seeing Ning Shiting finally start making the Nine Treasures Pastry for him, Gu Tingshuang suddenly became less anxious and said, "There's no need to rush."

Though Ning Shiting could see through this clearly. 

This Shizi had been hesitating to speak several times today, all because he wanted to urge him to start making the pastry, but he wouldn’t openly admit it. Once it was confirmed that Ning Shiting had indeed begun, he then started to act coy, saying it wasn’t a big deal, trying to appear completely unbothered. 

Thinking of this, a small smile crept onto Ning Shiting’s lips. 

Gu Tingshuang asked him, "What are you smiling at?"

Ning Shiting tightened the Luo Water-Mist gloves on his hands, found a rope, and tied them securely before continuing to crush the walnuts with the jade pestle.

"I was just reminded of something. Back when I was in Dongzhou, someone once told me that some children ask directly for candy, but others don’t dare to say it." 

"Oh? Which one are you?" Gu Tingshuang looked up at him, and as their eyes met, he always felt that Ning Shiting’s eyes were too bright, almost dazzling. So his gaze slid down Ning Shiting’s neck and stopped at his long, slender hands.

"I'm the type that doesn't dare to ask," Ning Shiting said. "But Dianxia... you’re probably the type who neither says yes nor no, but keeps pestering someone until they feed you the candy themselves."

Gu Tingshuang squinted his eyes, warning him: "Ning Shiting, is that how you talk to your young master?"(1)

Ning Shiting was being too bold today. Even after saying something like that, he still smiled and kept working on the pastry at hand.

Gu Tingshuang pondered quietly, unable to quite figure out the thoughts of this Jiaoren.

Did Ning Shiting think he was fierce, or not fierce at all?

It seemed like this was a question destined to remain unanswered.

In the calm of the afternoon, Gu Tingshuang read a book while Ning Shiting prepared the pastry. Through the thin, transparent gloves, delicate walnut powder stuck to his palms. The scent of incense on him was faintly replaced by the simple, earthly smell of human life.

A few times, the little wolf tried to sneak over to lick the crushed walnut powder, but Ning Shiting scolded it softly and gave it a light tap. The wolf wasn’t afraid of Ning Shiting, but it was cautious around Gu Tingshuang. With him nearby, it didn’t dare be too unruly and instead wiggled its hips and wagged its tail as it clumsily nuzzled against Ning Shiting’s knee.

After a moment of silence, Gu Tingshuang seemed to feel that he should say something, so he casually picked on Ning Shiting's gloves, almost as if he were making conversation for the sake of it. "Do you like wearing those gloves?"

"No, Dianxia."

"I see you wear them often. I heard the Luo Water-Mist gloves feel like nothing when worn—is that true?"

"There’s still a difference, Dianxia."

Gu Tingshuang, sitting on the other side of the table, paused at this, looking up to study him.

Ning Shiting had just finished grinding a small box of grain powder and was about to plate it when he heard the creak of the table being bumped. He looked up to see Gu Tingshuang manoeuvring his wheelchair, adjusting its direction with a faint trace of annoyance.

At the long table, Gu Tingshuang shifted from sitting across from Ning Shiting to sitting right beside him. Without hesitation, he moved closer and reached out to grab his hand.

In that moment, time seemed to still. Gu Tingshuang held his breath, and Ning Shiting was momentarily stunned.

Gu Tingshuang wasn’t sure why he did it. It was instinctual—perhaps spurred by the fleeting touch from earlier when Ning Shiting had gently blocked him as he passed by. The hazy sensation of that brief contact had slipped away too quickly, leaving him with an unspoken desire to remember it.

So this time, he reached out intentionally, wanting to hold on to that feeling.

The warmth of Ning Shiting’s palm spread through his own, triggering an unexpected flutter in his heart, a soft disarray that threw him off balance.

This was unfamiliar to him. It felt like hesitation—perhaps even fear—emotions that Gu Tingshuang despised and usually dismissed. So he quickly reversed the dynamic, turning his wrist to grasp Ning Shiting’s hand from below, his fingers slipping through Ning Shiting's like one would while taking a pulse, fingers gently moving until they wrapped around his fingertips.

He hadn’t touched Ning Shiting many times before. The one time that stood out was during their encounter in the Baicao Garden when he had gripped Ning Shiting's chin, but that touch had been fleeting, disrupted by the swift retaliation of the poison.

But this time, the contact was different—more vivid, more palpable, as if the memory of that previous touch had come flooding back, even sharper than before.

Ning Shiting’s flesh was shocking supple, it was as if it would yield to the softest pinch and leak out water. His bones were flexible, and the slightly lower-than-average body temperature only served to accentuate the contours of his fingers. Gu Tingshuang had never imagined that a man’s hands could feel so delicate, unaware that this was a unique trait of the Jiaoren from the North Sea. In water, Ning Shiting could become even more pliable.

Suppressing the uncertainty within him, Gu Tingshuang boldly and directly clasped his hand. Ning Shiting, still slightly surprised, awkwardly muttered, "Dianxia, stop it..."

There was a faint sense that Ning Shiting was trying to pull his fingers away, but Gu Tingshuang tightened his grip, forcing a calm expression as he locked eyes with him. "Do you like wearing these gloves?"

"You already asked me that once, Dianxia."

"Then answer again. Don’t talk back when I ask you a question."

Ning Shiting sighed softly, as if resigned. "No, Dianxia, I don’t."

"Then let my father help remove the poison from your body. We both know what he plans to do. I trust he'll get the Dust-Repelling Pearl, and you trust him too, don’t you?"

Ning Shiting hesitated, unsure of how to respond, and simply uttered an "Ng."

Gu Tingshuang leaned in even closer.

"Then why do you want to kill my father? This time, give me a clear answer."

As he continued to hold Ning Shiting’s hand, there was a strange sensation that their bloodstreams were somehow merging, the coolness of the Jiaoren's blood rushing through his veins and stirring something deep within his heart. A surge of excitement coursed through him, almost beyond his control, his hands trembling slightly with the intensity of it.

But outwardly, his hands were steady. The only sign of his internal turbulence was the slight increase in pressure as his grip on Ning Shiting tightened, enough for the latter to furrow his brow in discomfort.

"Dianxia?" Ning Shiting, after pondering for a moment, responded, "Last time, you found your own answer. What answer does Dianxia want me to give now?"

"When you first came to the palace, I thought you were someone greedy for wealth and power, Ning Shiting. But I can’t imagine that a person nearing the end of their life would still care so much for those things."

Gu Tingshuang hadn’t realised how much force he was applying to Ning Shiting’s hand.

Keep talking.

Say more.

He didn’t want this conversation to end, didn’t want Ning Shiting to sense the wild pounding of his heart—the trembling mixture of fear and sweetness.

Ning Shiting’s gaze remained clear and bright, like that of an innocent rabbit.

"Let me guess," Gu Tingshuang continued, "Have you practised some kind of secret technique or been guided by some master, convincing you that killing my father is the right choice for what comes next? Or... is it because you believe my father will eventually kill you, so you plan to strike first? Could it be a prediction, or did Bu Cangqiong tell you again?" Gu Tingshuang paused, his voice growing colder. "I’ve investigated him. Bu Cangqiong claims to be the earthly projection of a celestial body from Brahma’s realm, possessing certain divine powers. Are you following his guidance?"

Gu Tingshuang hadn’t forgotten the strange, surreal scenes he had glimpsed in Ning Shiting’s mind. They seemed like nightmares, not bound to reality. If they were nightmares or the result of some dark sorcery, he would break the spell. After all, Ning Shiting was his prey.

If it was foresight, then Gu Tingshuang was even more intrigued. He knew that Ning Shiting was deeply influenced by those fragmented memories and acted in accordance with them.

Why? Why did he trust those visions so much?

Gu Tingshuang deliberately left his question hanging, waiting for Ning Shiting to offer an explanation.

But Ning Shiting only froze again.

This time, there was no indulgent or affectionate response from him. His expression grew stern for the first time as he faced Gu Tingshuang. "Dianxia, please stop asking. And don’t get involved. There are many things I cannot explain to you right now. You only need to know that I will stand by your side. If you choose to retire to the mountains, I will support you. If you choose... another path, I will be with you there as well."

"There are things you don’t need to know the reasons for, Dianxia. You only need to understand that if I want to kill someone, I will do it."

With that, he gently withdrew his hand from Gu Tingshuang's grasp.

Gu Tingshuang watched his expression, feeling a weight sink heavily in his chest, like a crack forming in ice and a chilling wind seeping through.

Ning Shiting clearly no longer wished to continue this conversation.

Gu Tingshuang’s question had struck a nerve deep within him. He stood up, putting down the things he had been working on, and clearly had no intention of staying any longer.

Gu Tingshuang’s voice turned cold. "And what about me? Why are you kind to me? At least let me have that answer."

Ning Shiting paused at the doorway, turning back to look at him.

That gaze was painfully familiar.

It was the same look he had seen from certain people over the past four years—the same look from the first day Ning Shiting had come to the estate, staring through the mist. At the time, Gu Tingshuang couldn’t decipher it. Now, he understood.

It was pity, it was sympathy.

Ridiculous...

This Jiaoren, unaware of his own precarious situation, dared to pity him?

Gu Tingshuang's voice hardened. "Put away your pity. If you look at me like that again, I’ll gouge your eyes out."

For the first time, a deep fury burned in the young man’s eyes, veins bulging on the back of his hand. His fingers still carried the faint scent of Ning Shiting’s fragrance.

He couldn’t explain why he was so furious, only that, in that moment, he had the urge to storm out of the room.

"I don’t need your pity, Ning Shiting. If you have time to feel sorry for someone, pity yourself. I know what my father is up to outside—I’ve always known. I only kept quiet before out of pity for you. He’s never truly trusted you. He uses silverware to guard against you, and lets you manage the estate because he’s wary of your power. You’ve already built up a reputation in Dongzhou, haven’t you? He’s losing control over you..."

Gu Tingshuang’s voice cut off abruptly.

There was no expected anger, no dramatic confrontation.

Ning Shiting listened quietly, then simply said, "I know."

Standing by the door, his tall shadow was cast by the lamplight, revealing no trace of emotion. His voice remained gentle. "Dianxia, please rest early tonight, ba."

Foot Notes

1. The word he uses for “young master” is 少主人 (Shǎo zhǔrén).