Rong Chen Zi urgently took a cloth and wiped away the cursed markings on He Bang’s face, vexed in his heart as well — This is bad, this is bad — there is no telling how badly she will wail over this!!

He stood at the edge of the bed, braced for sobbing. But He Bang was unusually quiet — she even knew to cover her right eye with her hand, without uttering a single sound. Rong Chen Zi waited for what felt like a long time, and finally, with careful deliberateness, leaned closer. He softened his voice, pressing what was normally a dignified and authoritative baritone into something as gentle as he could manage: “It’s all right, it’s all right — take your hand away, let me take a look first.”

He Bang obediently lowered her hand. Rong Chen Zi bent down and lifted the eyelid for a careful look. He had no fear of the Blood Pupil Curse’s hex; it was a long while before he straightened up again. By nature a stern and upright man, accustomed to composure and proper conduct at all times, right now he was making himself as accommodating as he knew how, for fear that He Bang would break down crying: “I’ll have Qingxuan bring some food. Be good — I’ll go prepare the antidote. It’ll be fine soon, all right?”

He Bang gave a slight nod and did not look at him. Rong Chen Zi still felt uneasy, and after a moment’s thought, reached out and touched her hair in the same manner he used to pat the stray cats and dogs about the monastery. That black hair was smooth and sleek as silk, and even after he walked out the door, the soft, water-smooth sensation still lingered in the pads of his fingers.

Before long, Qingxuan arrived with food as ordered. He Bang said nothing, silently bent her head and ate with ravenous focus. Qingxuan was a little concerned too: “This afternoon Master has ordered me to gather herbs. Would Your Majesty like to come along?”

He Bang then nodded: “That master of yours is terrible! I’m done with him!”

Qingxuan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “Master suspects the one who instigated the Blood Pupil Curse is none other than Fuya, and has thus kept her in the monastery, also ordering Qingsu to investigate the matter thoroughly. He kept Your Majesty in the sealed chamber also out of fear that she might harm Your Majesty — please do not be angry with my master.”

He Bang was entirely unmoved: “Hmph. That damned Rong Chen Zi!”

Qingxuan was aghast: “Please don’t speak carelessly! Watch out if Master hears you!!”

After eating, He Bang followed Qingxuan out to gather herbs. With her right eye impaired, she covered it with a strip of shark silk gauze, which only made her nose and lips appear all the more delicate. She followed along behind Qingxuan the whole way and, remarkably, made no trouble.

That evening Qingxuan ate in the meal hall, and she went along and sat at the same table. Rong Chen Zi and Fuya sat at another table; Fuya was also looking He Bang over, but as her eye was covered by the shark silk gauze it revealed nothing unusual. The disciples all knew something was off — This, this, this — Master’s back courtyard has truly caught fire!!

He Bang didn’t care about any of that. She still kept her head down over her food. With so many eyes on her, her appetite was actually somewhat restrained — she only ate enough for two people.

Qingxuan had absolutely no wish to be collateral damage. He could already feel his Master’s gaze burning clear through him. He ate only half full and immediately stood up: “I’m heading back to my room first!”

He Bang stood up too and went bouncing and hopping along after him, and on the way past one table, casually helped herself to a steamed bun sitting on it as well. =_=!

Qingxuan had barely made it back to his room when He Bang came following in right behind him. His room was furnished with somewhat more variety, owing to a young man’s temperament and many interests. On the desk sat half-finished Daoist talismans and newly composed musical scores; on the wooden rack beside it, the top shelf held a bamboo flute gifted by Rong Chen Zi, and on the lower shelf sat a two-stringed erhu and a pipa propped upright.

To the right was a square cabinet containing neatly copied collections of scriptures.

The bamboo curtain was half-rolled up. Though it lacked the clean simplicity of Rong Chen Zi’s sleeping quarters, it carried quite a bit of human warmth.

His room had never welcomed a female visitor before, and Qingxuan couldn’t be more uncomfortable, yet he had no way to send He Bang away, and could only gently suggest: “Aren’t you tired after climbing the mountain all day? Head back to your room and sleep.”

He Bang flung herself down on his bed with great abandon, and huffed: “This seat shall be sleeping here from now on!”

The tips of Qingxuan’s ears turned red: “Your Majesty, this daoist is a man of the cloth — it would hardly be proper for an unmarried man and woman to share a room.”

He Bang paid no attention to any of that. She noticed a string of bone wind chimes in his square cabinet, thought it looked fun, and took it out to fidget with. Qingxuan could neither sit nor stand comfortably, and after quite some time Rong Chen Zi finally arrived.

Qingxuan let out a tremendous sigh of relief and immediately handed the hot potato straight back to his master, then stood at the door with a composed expression. Rong Chen Zi stood before the bed, while He Bang sat on it playing with the bone chimes, neither looking up nor speaking. Rong Chen Zi spoke in an even tone: “The antidote will be ready in another two days.”

He Bang had the shark silk gauze over her eye — the bleeding was stanched, but the fabric was semi-translucent, making everything she looked at slightly blurred. She neither cried nor made a fuss, and offered no response. Rong Chen Zi could not truly let her stay in Qingxuan’s room. He had made the public declaration that she was his dual cultivation cauldron vessel — how would it look if she lodged in Qingxuan’s quarters?

Who knew what distortions people might make of it.

He therefore eased slightly closer to He Bang, and his stern face squeezed out three parts of a smile: “Come back to the room — your eye is inconvenient, so rest early.”

Qingxuan was clever too, and thought to himself: With me here, Master won’t be able to bring himself to come down from his high horse. He bowed: “Your disciple has suddenly recalled something — I’ll step away briefly.”

Rong Chen Zi naturally nodded, but He Bang leapt up: “I want to go too!!”

Qingxuan could neither demolish his master’s position nor afford to offend He Bang. His heart cried out in suffering: “I… I… this daoist needs to use the privy.”

He Bang immediately became unreasonable: “I want to go to the privy too!!”

Qingxuan looked to Rong Chen Zi in desperation. Rong Chen Zi steeled himself — he drew his index finger across the strings of the pipa, and a thread of beads of blood rose along the pad of his finger. The fragrance in the room instantly billowed and swelled. He Bang had still been clutching Qingxuan’s sleeve a moment ago, but shortly turned her head to look at Rong Chen Zi, swallowing repeatedly.

Rong Chen Zi stood before the bed with his head slightly bowed, a droplet of blood trembling on the tip of his index finger, about to fall but not yet fallen. He Bang’s breathing grew heavier and heavier. Her hand still gripped Qingxuan, but her feet would not obey — she bolted over and took Rong Chen Zi’s index finger into her mouth, sucking at it relentlessly. Her lips were soft and a tender pink, and that tongue of hers teased the tip of his finger with a tingling, ticklish touch. Rong Chen Zi’s face grew faintly warm; after a long while he stroked her hair and asked softly: “Will you come back to the room?”

The scent of blood and flesh was truly, truly intoxicating! He Bang greedily drew at his fingertip, and the more she tasted the hungrier she became; she had swallowed half a jin of her own saliva, wishing she could chew his whole finger, his entire hand, his entire person down to nothing — how could she possibly manage to reply? She could only nod her head repeatedly.

But having agreed she still wouldn’t move: “My eye hurts, and I climbed the mountain all afternoon, and my feet hurt too.”

Rong Chen Zi was full of guilt to begin with, and at these words gave a faint sigh: “Would you like to transform back into a river clam, and I shall carry you back?”

“Sob sob, my eye hurts.” He Bang raised a hand to rub her eye. Rong Chen Zi took the shark silk gauze from her eye and looked carefully at her pupil, then sighed once more, and in the end bent down and scooped her up horizontally in his arms and carried her out of Qingxuan’s quarters.

He Bang was delighted at this and threw both arms around his neck, greedily sniffing along his neck. The monastery’s disciples spotted their master coming along carrying a beauty from a great distance away — not a single one dared approach, and they all scurried off to get out of the way.

When passing the guest hall they chanced upon Fuya. Rong Chen Zi’s face flushed faintly, and he gave her only a slight nod and walked straight on. He Bang glanced in her direction, and turned up the corner of her lips in a shallow, faint smile. Through the shark silk gauze, Fuya could not make out her expression clearly.

Back in his sleeping quarters, Rong Chen Zi set her gently down on his own bed, found the teapot, and poured her a bowl of plain water. The mountain spring waters flowed into the small river — she could not do without water, and as her pupils were currently afflicted she could not go inside to bathe.

He Bang drank half a bowl of water from his hand and then looked up, staring at him blankly with the gaze of a starving dog eyeing a marrow bone. Rong Chen Zi smiled faintly and patted her head like he would a little dog: “All right. Sleep now.”

He lay down on the bed in his robes, and He Bang simply sniffed at him everywhere. Rong Chen Zi paid her no mind and settled into a meditative rest with his eyes closed. She sniffed and sniffed until she began to lick — lightly, from his thumb, working her way slowly across his hand. That tongue was too soft, yet more nimble than a cat’s, licking again and again across his palm and the back of his hand and in between his fingers. Rong Chen Zi reached with his right hand to stroke her kelp-length hair: “Time to sleep now.”

Without warning she pounced and sprawled herself entirely across Rong Chen Zi’s chest, reaching her mouth up to lick his neck. Rong Chen Zi started, and immediately pulled her back, adding weight to his voice: “Sleep!”

He Bang was not afraid — she had her trump card: “But my eye hurts!!”

Rong Chen Zi let out a long, deep sigh: “I was careless in this matter — I had originally assumed that in my quarters, she wouldn’t dare act recklessly.” He lightly touched He Bang’s eye through the shark silk gauze, then sighed again. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He Bang pressed herself against his side, nestling tightly against his broad and solid shoulder: “Zhiguan, avenge me!”

Rong Chen Zi stroked her hair, and after a long while gave a soft, low reply: “Mm.”