Chapter 78

It wasn’t that Ning Shiting didn’t understand—he simply wanted to tease him a little.

In that instant, even Gu Tingshuang himself did not realise—at some unknown point, he had already risen to his feet and was walking on his own. As the final flake of snow melted into the air, it felt as though something had quietly etched itself into his mind. And just as inexplicably as it had come, the surge of spiritual energy that had filled his body and allowed him to stand dissipated without a trace, as if it had merely awakened for that one fleeting moment, only to fall into slumber once more.

What stirred within him far surpassed the level of a mere Fourth Rank spiritual cultivator. It was the kind of mastery that could refine the very essence of heaven and earth, transmuting spiritual energy into bone, sinew, and pulse, reforming the body itself. And yet, it had lasted but a breath.

Gu Tingshuang’s figure swayed. Just as he felt himself about to collapse, one hand gripped the doorframe with desperate strength, veins standing out stark against his skin. Ning Shiting still lay unconscious in his arms. As Gu Tingshuang’s body tilted, Ning Shiting slipped from his hold—but Gu Tingshuang caught him with his one free hand, cradling him once more.

Yueya rushed over, swiftly pushing his wheelchair into place. The silver-edged spirit beast crouched at his side and carefully took Ning Shiting onto its back.

Hulu and Lingjiao stood gaping, momentarily stunned by the scene. It took them a moment to recover, then they hastened forward to steady Gu Tingshuang and help him back into his wheelchair.

“Dianxia… your legs—” Hulu began softly.

Gu Tingshuang cut him off: “See to Ning Shiting first. As for me… let me be alone for a while.”

His expression was strange—troubled, as though some thought hovered just out of reach. There was a trace of bewilderment in his gaze, touched with faint unease.

“Then Dianxia should rest soon,” Hulu said gently. “When Gongzi brought you back just now, you were unconscious as well. Should we prepare a light meal before we help you settle down for the night?”

“No need,” Gu Tingshuang replied. “I’ll remain here… in this room.”

This time, Ning Shiting’s condition seemed far from hopeful.

Though the fire dragon’s saliva had shielded him from the Snow Yao’s chilling breath during those repeated attacks, the creature’s fine, razor-like weapons had nonetheless torn into his skin, leaving behind wounds that now bled faintly in the cold.

At first, Gu Tingshuang hadn’t noticed. It was only when the servants brought warm water to cleanse Ning Shiting’s body, gently loosening his robes, that the truth was laid bare—there was scarcely a patch of unbroken skin left on him.

He had raced through the blizzard and plunged deep into the fissures beneath the earth to find the little wolf, knocked unconscious by falling debris. The ice had long since sliced through his flesh, yet the blood had frozen solid in the bitter cold, masking the full extent of the damage. When the fire dragon’s saliva touched those wounds, it was no different from salting raw, flayed skin. The gashes—many of them minuscule and too numerous to see with the naked eye—ran across him like a tapestry of pain.

No one could possibly imagine how Ning Shiting, sustained by nothing more than sheer will, had managed to kill Baili Hongzhou and then walk back, one agonizing step at a time.

The little wolf now lay by his pillow, listless and drooping, its damp, rosy nose nudging cautiously into Ning Shiting’s hair as though afraid it might disturb his fragile breath.

The same physician who had treated Ning Shiting before had come again. Donning gloves, he pressed lightly against the young man’s arm—only for a wound to split open, fresh blood seeping out.

“This…” the physician muttered gravely. “I dare not administer any medicine just yet. The external injuries are manageable, but the real danger lies in the poisons that have been festering within Gongzi’s body. This is no recent affliction. He likely caught a chill some time ago and forced himself to endure it, letting his body wear itself down. At this point, any medicinal treatment could trigger a catastrophic reaction.”

Gu Tingshuang said calmly, “You said the same thing last time—and yet you still gave him medicine.”

The physician scratched his head. “Last time was then. This is now. At present, the only safe course is to bathe Gongzi’s body in warm water, release the clotted blood, then bind the wounds with clean silk. If he can survive this stretch, the body will begin to heal on its own.”

Gu Tingshuang was silent for a moment, then replied, “Understood.”

“When he wakes,” the physician continued, “prepare nourishing broths—nothing too rare or potent. Avoid expensive herbs—no ginseng, not even a slice. We don’t want to risk a clash of energies. Just ordinary things will do: red dates, goji berries, chicken soup. Strengthen what we can, bit by bit. Last time I saw Gongzi, though unconscious, his complexion was still flushed with life. This time… he’s thinned down so much, it’s like a different person altogether. You mustn’t let him exhaust himself anymore. Otherwise…”

Otherwise, the ten years of life they had once hoped to preserve… might not last even half as long.

Gu Tingshuang answered softly, “Good.”

As the physician packed up his medicine chest and prepared to leave, he suddenly asked, “Dianxia… has Ning Gongzi’s identity now become common knowledge? Lately I’ve been hearing whispers that the man at the Qing Wang’s side is a poisonous Jiaoren. If this rumor continues to spread… might it not cause trouble?”

Gu Tingshuang was silent again for a while before replying, “I wasn’t aware of this matter before. From now on, I’ll look into it.”

The physician bowed and quietly took his leave.

Gu Tingshuang remained seated at Ning Shiting’s bedside, his mind adrift.

When asleep, Ning Shiting was extraordinarily quiet. Yet even in slumber, his expression could hardly be called peaceful. A faint weariness lingered between his brows, as though even in dreams he bore worries too heavy to name.

Gu Tingshuang did not like seeing him like this—so frail, so diminished.

He glanced around and found, atop a side table, the small incense burner Ning Shiting often used to refine his aromatics. He placed five pellets of Soul Returning incense within it, lit them, and set the burner near the pillow.

Fragrance quickly filled the room, curling through the air like unseen silk threads.

He couldn’t say what exactly he was doing, or why. It felt as though something inside him had shifted with the passing of that final snowfall—something deep, something quiet. And yet, perhaps nothing had changed at all.

A weight had settled upon his chest, dense and elusive, like the trailing edge of a dream he could not quite hold on to.

But he knew—it was there.

And whatever it was, it made him want to stay by Ning Shiting’s side.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, listening to Ning Shiting’s faint, steady breathing.

After sunset, Hulu entered to light the lamps. He placed the afternoon meal on the table, then turned and softly asked the three “wolf lords” in the room whether they would be eating.

Gu Tingshuang sent Yueya and Yinbian—who were crouched at the foot of the bed—out to eat. Only the little wolf stubbornly refused to move.

It remained curled beside Ning Shiting, spiritless, its moist pink nose pressed gently into the silver-white strands of his hair. When Gu Tingshuang prodded it lightly, it let out a low, mournful whimper and licked at Ning Shiting’s locks as though in comfort.

It even attempted to crawl onto Ning Shiting’s chest, clearly wishing to nestle against his heart. But each time, Gu Tingshuang firmly pushed it back down.

In the deep hours of the night, Gu Tingshuang had drifted into a light sleep, head resting at the edge of the bed, when he vaguely heard Ning Shiting cough.

It was a muffled, chest-deep kind of cough—quiet but wrenching, coming from deep within his lungs.

Gu Tingshuang’s eyes flew open. He turned just in time to see Ning Shiting tilt his head weakly, fumbling under the covers as he tried to lift the little wolf that had somehow managed to sneak back onto his chest. The creature must have climbed up while Gu Tingshuang was sleeping.

Still coughing, Ning Shiting tried to sit up and move the wolf aside, but his body had been sapped of all strength—he barely managed to rise before collapsing back down.

The little wolf, fast asleep, clung stubbornly to his chest.

Gu Tingshuang reached out and plucked the plump creature up with one hand, flinging it unceremoniously toward the foot of the bed. The wolf let out a startled whimper as it landed, groggily rubbing its furry head with two thick, fluffy paws. Its ears drooped in indignation. But as soon as it regained its senses, it bounded right back over, tail wagging, and flopped beside Ning Shiting’s pillow once more.

“You’re awake,” Gu Tingshuang said.

Ning Shiting lifted the blanket, allowing the little wolf to burrow back under the covers. With a faint smile, he turned to look at Gu Tingshuang and murmured, “Ng. Has Dianxia not rested at all? This time… Dianxia has recovered quickly.”

It was clear he had been awake for some time, and now that he could see Gu Tingshuang there, safe and sound, watching over him, he seemed reassured.

But Gu Tingshuang didn’t respond.

Ning Shiting tilted his head slightly, puzzled by the silence. In a haze of sleep and half-formed memories, he vaguely recalled Gu Tingshuang saying earlier that both Ting Shu and he were unharmed. Now, nestled within the warm fragrance of the incense chamber, he relaxed further into the blankets. The little wolf squirmed over from behind and curled up in his arms, and he let it stay.

His gaze wandered lazily back to Gu Tingshuang.

Gu Tingshuang, however, was frowning deeply.

Ning Shiting noticed then—he was being watched.

Gu Tingshuang was studying him intently. No, not simply watching—scrutinizing. As if weighing something important, something unresolved.

That look… Ning Shiting suddenly remembered seeing it before.

There was a time he had caught the little wolf stalking butterflies in the garden. Right before it pounced, there had been a long moment of stillness—tense, focused, utterly serious. The look in the wolf’s eyes then was exactly the same as the one Gu Tingshuang wore now.

Ning Shiting gave a hoarse chuckle and called out softly, “Dianxia?”

He waited for a while, but Gu Tingshuang still didn’t answer. Ning Shiting eventually gave up on that line of questioning and shifted his thoughts—perhaps he could ask about someone else.

But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Gu Tingshuang abruptly raised a sleeve and pressed it over his lips. “Stop muttering if your voice is already that hoarse, Jiaoren.”

Ning Shiting obediently nodded.

Gu Tingshuang continued to stare at him.

That look in his eyes was strange. Ning Shiting, though long accustomed to Gu Tingshuang’s occasional bouts of eccentric thinking, still couldn’t quite decipher what was running through the young man’s mind at this moment.

Then Gu Tingshuang asked, “This illness of yours—can it only be cured by the Dust Avoidance Pearl?”

Ning Shiting’s expression flickered with faint surprise.

Gu Tingshuang seemed to turn something over in his mind for a moment before speaking again: “Will my father give it to you? Can he even get his hands on it before he dies?”

Ning Shiting blinked and silently mouthed: Dianxia, you said I wasn’t allowed to speak.

Gu Tingshuang’s tone turned sharp with irritation. “Then now’s the time to speak, Ning Shiting. Since when did you get this dense?”

It wasn’t that Ning Shiting didn’t understand—he simply wanted to tease him a little.

This conversation was much like one they had shared long ago. In their past lives, during yet another of Ning Shiting’s relapses, the physician had explained just how fragile the body of a poison-blooded Jiaoren truly was. Gu Tingshuang had asked the same questions back then.

And at that time, Ning Shiting had answered: “The Wangye will give it to me. Please rest easy, Dianxia.”

After that, Gu Tingshuang had never asked again.

At present, Ning Shiting quietly gazed at Gu Tingshuang. “Dianxia asks this… for what reason?”

His gaze was clear and unclouded, full of unreserved trust and obedience. Reflected within them—was Gu Tingshuang himself.

Gu Tingshuang turned his eyes away and said softly, “If he won’t give it to you, I’ll get it for you.”

Ning Shiting replied, “The Dust Avoidance Pearl is…”

“It’s something only the Immortal Emperor possesses, inlaid in the imperial jade seal. No ordinary man can even get close,” Gu Tingshuang cut him off. “I know. To take the Dust Avoidance Pearl, to become emperor—just two things. Nothing more.”

“…” Ning Shiting was stunned.

Were it any other time, he might have laughed quietly, brushed off the remark as a child’s wild fancy. But now—he could feel Gu Tingshuang meant it.

In their past life, the reason Gu Tingshuang left the palace had remained unclear. Was he now, in this life, to once again walk that perilous road for his sake alone?

Gu Tingshuang was a man of deep feeling and instinct, disinterested in court affairs, a soul who detested the entanglements of power and preferred the idle life of a crane among clouds. This lifetime, all his kindness was aimed at granting Ning Shiting a peaceful end, far from turmoil.

After a long silence, Ning Shiting’s fingers shifted slightly. He reached out—lightly resting his hand atop Gu Tingshuang’s head.

So gentle, merely a soft touch, as if to comfort, as if to confess.

Gu Tingshuang lay with his chin propped on the bedside, unmoving beneath that touch. He looked up at him, gaze unwavering. “You don’t think I can do it?”

Ning Shiting said quietly, “It’s not that, Dianxia. Only that I believe… if Dianxia walks this path, it will be long and bitter. Perhaps not a path that brings happiness. And I… I’m not worth such a risk.”

“Why not?” Gu Tingshuang replied. “Even my wolves have already accepted you. You’re one of us now.”

“But the ancient white wolves would not halt for the sake of any one of their kind. The survival of the pack was always the only goal. Dianxia, it was you who said this.” Ning Shiting’s voice was soft. “You simply… haven’t met enough people who are good to you. Once you do, you’ll realize—I haven’t done all that much for you. I’m not worth such deep loyalty.”

“You pity me. I know that.”

Gu Tingshuang leaned in, his gaze intent, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

His breath was warm, brushing across Ning Shiting’s face like a whisper.

“I just don’t know why…” Gu Tingshuang’s voice was low. “I don’t know why I wanted to kill you, and then found I preferred you alive. I thought you deserved to suffer, yet somehow I still wanted you to laugh and move freely. I don’t understand it… Is it because you’re a fish? Or… did you fool me from the beginning? They say the Jiaoren of the Northern Sea can beguile minds with a single glance—was I already caught in your net?”

Ning Shiting looked at him quietly.

Then, Gu Tingshuang heard the Jiaoren murmur: “Dianxia… is far too lonely. And I…”

The loneliness was long and formless, stretching from the endless days and nights of waiting in a past life, to the aimless drifting of this one. He had chased after his hatred, yet also wanted to offer someone warmth and companionship—for Tingshu, and for Gu Tingshuang.

Outwardly, it was for them. In truth, it had always been for himself.

A man fated for misfortune and early death also wished, just once, to give warmth to another. That way, this life wouldn’t seem so hollow, and his rebirth wouldn’t feel like a cruel joke.

Because his life no longer belonged to him. And there was nothing left that could truly make up for it.

Ning Shiting tried, with great effort, to sit up. Gu Tingshuang reached out to steady him, one hand pressing lightly to his back, helping him lean against the bed.

The beautiful Jiaoren drew two shallow breaths, then said, “I’ve known since I was very young that I wouldn’t live long. Dianxia needn’t do all this for me. My only wish was to avenge my kin and finish out this broken life. Beyond that, I never dared to hope…”

“Then I’ll avenge you, Ning Shiting,” Gu Tingshuang interrupted, gaze steady and resolute. “Live however long you want. Your enemies are my enemies now. The divine white wolves never rest until vengeance is complete—this is our creed.”

When a young man’s gaze burned bright, it was like fire itself.

He seemed a little nervous, and with a touch of command in his voice, he asked, “Will you let me?”

This time, it was Ning Shiting who looked away first.

“I belong to your father, Dianxia. A man cannot serve two masters.”

“I don’t care,” Gu Tingshuang said. “You’ve already harbored disloyal thoughts—he no longer holds your heart. You are yourself. And besides… if you must follow someone to feel at ease, then why can’t that person be me?”

Ning Shiting froze.

The confidence and stubbornness in the boy’s voice was like a blade of fire, pressed gently but unerringly to his heart. Gu Tingshuang was so straightforward, so fierce, so reckless—giving no room for retreat. For the first time, Ning Shiting felt unprepared, even overwhelmed, in front of him.

He lowered his head, his thoughts a chaotic tangle. Nightmares seemed to stir from their sleep, clawing at the edges of his mind.

Forcing the turmoil down, Ning Shiting said in a low voice, “Dianxia… allow me a little time to think.”

Gu Tingshuang replied, “Good, there is no rush. Take your time. I’ll go make you some chicken soup.”

Ning Shiting blinked in surprise. “…Chicken soup?”

Gu Tingshuang explained, “The physician said you should drink some. Since you made me Nine-Treasure Pastries before, I’ll return the favor. It’s only right.”

Ning Shiting: “…”

He could sense something had changed in Gu Tingshuang.

It was as though—once he’d decided to be good to him—he had shed even that shell of cold indifference from before.

“Dianxia is being like this… it makes me uneasy.” Ning Shiting whispered, just before Gu Tingshuang turned his wheelchair away. “I should explain something. I… biologically, am not a wolf.”

Gu Tingshuang had apparently decided he was one of the wolves under his command, which still felt a little strange.

The little wolf stirred on his chest, its tail brushing against Ning Shiting’s palm.

“I know. You’re a fish. But that doesn’t matter,” Gu Tingshuang said. “I’m not a wolf either.”

Ning Shiting: “…”

He wasn’t really a fish either.

But Gu Tingshuang had already left. The door creaked shut behind him with a soft click.