Unworthy

Wu Changkong did not sleep well that night.

The next morning, he rose early as usual, practiced his sword as usual, and watched the trainees run their morning laps from beside the field as usual. When Tang Wulin ran past him, he called out, "Good morning, Teacher Wu." Wu Changkong nodded, but his gaze went past the field and settled on the tightly shut window on the third floor of the administration building. Lu Menge had not come to work today. Director Long said she had taken sick leave.

Sick leave. When those words came from Director Long's mouth, Wu Changkong's eyelid twitched. Lu Menge had been at Eastsea Academy for so long and had never once taken sick leave. Someone with enough energy to torment an entire floor of coworkers had suddenly fallen ill?

He remembered that catlike cry from last night. Before she opened her mouth, she had looked fierce, chin slightly raised and eyes confident, as though she had come to announce something. But after she opened her mouth, she made a sound that did not belong to her at all—a soft, rising sound, like a little cat whose tail had been stepped on. Then she blushed—from her cheekbones to her ears, from her ears to her neck. She turned as red as if she had been scorched all over by the backlash of the Heavenfrost Sword. She ran away, not even picking up the coat she had dropped.

That catlike cry had not been deliberate. Wu Changkong knew Lu Menge too well—she could be flirtatious, lazy, and use any teasing tone to dismantle everyone's defenses. But she would not make that sort of sound, in that sort of situation, in that sort of manner. Unless—it was something carved into instinct through repeated training. Like an animal that had been conditioned for a long time, making an uncontrollable reflexive response in certain situations.

Who had trained her? How?

Wu Changkong pushed the Heavenfrost Sword into its sheath. The blade entered with a clear metallic ring.

He decided to find Gu Yue.

Gu Yue was Lu Menge's cousin. He had observed Lu Menge's treatment of Gu Yue too many times. She brought her lunch twice as often as she did Tang Wulin, pressed different fruits and snacks into her hands every day, and even personally chose hairpins to leave on Gu Yue's desk. That care did not feel like it came from an equal. It was more like an elder sister who shouldered every responsibility herself and protected her younger sister with all her strength. Behind that elder sister, there might be more things he did not understand.

It was lunchtime. Wu Changkong intercepted Gu Yue outside the cafeteria.

She had just come out, holding a cup of soy milk—Lu Menge had bought it for her, and he recognized the cup. Tang Wulin walked beside her, discussing the afternoon's combat class pairings with her. Wu Changkong approached them.

"Gu Yue. Could I borrow a moment?"

Gu Yue raised her eyes to look at him. His brows were pressed lower than usual, his lips a straight line, and his fingers unconsciously tapped the sword sheath twice. She paused halfway through drinking her soy milk, then gave Tang Wulin beside her an expressionless look—you go ahead.

Tang Wulin sensibly slipped away.

Wu Changkong led her beneath a ginkgo tree beside the field. There were few people here during lunch break, and golden leaves rustled overhead.

"Has your sister encountered any trouble recently?"

Gu Yue held her cup of soy milk. Her lashes lowered slightly, then she looked up again, her expression as cool as ever. "No. Teacher Lu is fine."

"She did not come to work today."

"She said she took sick leave."

"She never takes sick leave."

"People get sick." Gu Yue's tone did not fluctuate, as though she were reciting a standard answer prepared in advance. She raised the cup and took a sip, the rim concealing the lower half of her face and leaving only a pair of violet eyes that revealed no emotion.

Wu Changkong did not back down. He stepped half a pace closer, shortening the distance between them. His tone remained steady, but every word grew heavier. "She came to see me last night. She left without saying anything. That was not like her."

Gu Yue did not answer. She shifted the soy milk from her left hand to her right, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the cup before loosening again.

"I do not know what you mean." Her voice remained cool. "If Teacher Wu has nothing else, I will go back and study."

She turned sideways to leave. Wu Changkong's voice came from behind her, neither loud nor soft, but like a sword precisely blocking her retreat. "She said you were her cousin."

Gu Yue stopped.

"She said it herself." Wu Changkong did not pursue her. He remained where he was, maintaining that neither-too-close-nor-too-distant space. "I have known her for so long, yet she has never mentioned her past to anyone. But she said you were her cousin. When she said it, her expression was different from usual."

Gu Yue stood with her back to him and did not turn around. Her fingers tightened faintly around the soy milk cup. Condensation slid down between her fingers and dripped onto the stone pavement at her feet, spreading into a tiny dark circle.

"You are the person closest to her in this academy. If something happened to her—"

"Nothing happened to her."

Gu Yue turned around, her voice slightly louder than before. It was not anger. It was the panic of someone instinctively raising her voice to conceal the fact that something had been struck. She set the soy milk cup down on a nearby bench with more force than usual. It knocked against the wood with a dull thud, splashing several drops of soy milk.

"Teacher Wu, what exactly are you trying to do by asking all this?"

"I want to help her."

"She does not need your help—"

"That catlike cry last night," Wu Changkong said softly, so softly it seemed he was afraid of shattering something, "was not something she wanted to make herself."

Gu Yue's lips parted slightly, then closed again. She knew what that catlike cry had been about. She had been standing nearby at the time, watching Lu Menge open her mouth to speak, only for the words "little kitty" in her mind to strike the wrong chord and make her embarrass herself with a meow. But she could not tell him the truth. If she did, it would mean admitting that Lu Menge had not been coerced at all, that all of Wu Changkong's assumptions had been nothing but bubbles, and that Lu Menge had allowed those bubbles to exist because she enjoyed the feeling of being specially cared for by him.

The truth was too complicated. Too complicated to sum up with a single sentence like, "You are overthinking it." Besides—she did not want to sum it up.

Her hesitation became another kind of confirmation in Wu Changkong's eyes.

She was hiding something. She knew the truth, but could not say it. Dared not say it.

"Is someone coercing her?"

Gu Yue froze completely. Her fingers clenched the hem of her school uniform skirt, her knuckles whitening inch by inch. Her teeth clenched tightly, as though she were desperately forcing something inside herself back down. Only after a long time did she squeeze out two words through her teeth. "...No."

"You hesitated just now."

"I did not—"

"Gu Yue." Wu Changkong suddenly softened his voice. He was not good at softening his voice—it was not his habit, but he was trying his best to speak in the way this moment needed. He even moved his hand away from the hilt of the Heavenfrost Sword and let both hands hang naturally at his sides, making himself look less like an interrogator. "I am not asking you for any reason. Not because she is my colleague, not because of academy rules, and not for any official reason."

He paused. Wind blew in from the direction of the field, filling the gaps between the rustling ginkgo leaves.

"It is because that person—she should not be treated this way."

Gu Yue bit her lower lip.

She bit down hard enough to leave a white mark, which slowly filled with blood and reddened. Her hands began to tremble—not violently enough to be obvious, but starting at her fingertips and spreading bit by bit, like the first crack appearing when something heavy crushed across ice. She tried to stop herself by gripping her skirt tighter, but the tighter she gripped it, the worse her hands shook.

Wu Changkong saw her trembling hands. His hand moved to the sword hilt, then fell again as he lowered his voice until only the two of them could hear it.

"Is she being controlled?"

Gu Yue said nothing. Her lashes trembled violently.

"The supplements she uses for cultivation—those Soul Rings—are they being used to force her into doing things she does not want to do?"

Gu Yue's shoulders suddenly tightened. Her breathing grew rapid, the rise and fall of her chest becoming greater and greater, as though something inside her was crashing wildly around and could not find an escape. She stepped back from the bench, the backs of her legs striking its edge, and collapsed onto it. Wu Changkong instinctively reached out to support her, but she swung her hand through the air and struck his wrist—not hard, but the motion was filled with rejection.

"Stop asking—Teacher Wu, stop asking, I cannot say—"

Her eyes reddened. Not gradually—after enduring for far too long, a crack had finally been pried open, and all the emotions trapped behind it surged out at once, burning her eyes crimson. She raised a hand to cover them, pressing hard against her eyelids as though she could force the tears back inside, but they spilled through her fingers and ran down her palm into her sleeve.

"You do not understand. You cannot help her—no one can help her—"

"I can—"

"You cannot!" Gu Yue abruptly lowered her hand and lifted her face. Tears had already smeared across it. She glared at Wu Changkong with an expression that seemed both furious and despairing. "You do not know anything! Do you think what you have seen is everything? Do you know what she has done for me? Do you know those people—"

She suddenly bit her lip and swallowed the rest of her words as though she had said something she should not have. Tears dripped from her chin onto the collar of her school uniform. She fiercely wiped them away with the back of her hand, but more came. She wiped again, and they kept coming. The more she wiped, the more there were.

Wu Changkong lowered himself onto one knee before her, bringing himself level with her gaze. His voice remained low, but every word sounded as though it had been chiseled from ice. "Then tell me—what has your sister done?"

Gu Yue looked into his eyes. In those cold blue eyes, there was no judgment, no prying curiosity, no condescending pity—only a clumsy sincerity that he was not good at expressing, yet was still trying to convey. Suddenly, she cried out loud. Not the restrained, bitten-back crying from before. She truly cried, like floodwaters that had been held back too long finally smashing through the last barrier.

"She—when she first went to find those people—it was because of my tuition—she did not have to go—that day, when she came back—"

Her voice broke off there. Something seemed lodged in her throat. She bent over, both hands clutching her knees, nails digging into her skin. Her body slid from the bench to the ground, her face buried in her knees. Her sobs were muffled between her skirt and the fallen leaves, like a small beast swallowing the last pain it could not lick in its den.

"She told me it was fine—she said it was just dinner—she lied to me—she lied to me, every time saying it was only dinner—but who comes back from dinner with an entire sleeve torn open? Who has bruises all over her neck and still smiles, saying she is fine? She smiled—she was still smiling—she even comforted me and said it did not hurt—how could it not hurt—"

Gu Yue suddenly raised her face. Tears and mucus ran together into her mouth, but she did not care. Her throat had swollen raw from crying, and her voice had become rough and hoarse. Her pauses were broken, her grammar gone. Only word after word burst out, as though her heart had been ground to pieces and squeezed from a millstone.

"In winter—once—it was more than ten degrees below zero—she wore that kind of skirt—so thin—when she came home, her lips were purple—her legs were covered in bleeding cracks from the cold—I used hot towels on her—she said she was not cold—she was shaking, and she told me she was not cold—she even smiled—that night, her fever got so high she started talking nonsense—she grabbed my hand and said, Gu Yue, run—she was still telling me to run in her dreams—"

Gu Yue grabbed Wu Changkong's arm, her nails digging into his sleeve. Her whole body shook violently. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, her throat unable to produce complete syllables, but she kept speaking as though something was driving her to say it.

"Those people—those people made her imitate animal sounds—when she would not do it, they put pressure on her—I fought with her—I asked her if she could stop going—she said no—she said she still had to pay my tuition and buy Soul Tools—I said I would quit school—then she got so angry—she had never been that angry with me before—her face twisted with anger—she said if you quit school, I will have failed you—I live so you will not suffer—but she was the one suffering—"

She convulsed with sobs and fell forward, her forehead striking Wu Changkong's shoulder. Her tears and mucus smeared across his white clothes. A long, crushed whimper came from her throat, as though it had been dragged forcibly from the deepest part of her chest.

"She is sick today—not the normal kind of sick—this morning, she washed her hands for almost the time it takes to eat a meal—scrubbing and scrubbing—until the backs of her hands were covered in bloody cuts—she said her hands were dirty—then she bent over the sink and threw up—nothing but sour water—she would not let me get close—she said, Gu Yue, do not look—after she finished throwing up, she wiped the floor again—only after wiping it did she open the door—then she brought breakfast in front of me—said chocolate milk was what I said I wanted yesterday—I looked at her swollen eyes—the marks on her face—and she was still asking if breakfast tasted good—"

Gu Yue suddenly lifted her face from Wu Changkong's shoulder. It was completely soaked with tears and mucus, her nose red as though it had been rubbed raw, her lips trembling violently. Both hands clutched Wu Changkong's lapels so hard her knuckles crackled. Her violet eyes had been reddened by tears, every light in them shattered, leaving only the look of someone completely drowned in fear and despair.

"Teacher Wu—will she die? So many times, so many times when I came home, I was afraid to open the door—I was afraid that one day she would not be there anymore—will she get pregnant? I think about it every night—what if she gets pregnant? She is such a clean person—if there is something dirty inside her stomach—she will go insane—she really will go insane—"

"But what did we do wrong?" she screamed herself hoarse. Her voice was ragged, her entire chest heaving with sobs, as though she had poured all the despair forced to its limit into that cry. "Should I not have lived? If there had been no me, she would not have had to—"

When Wu Changkong heard that, it felt as though something had lodged in his throat. He wanted to say, "It is not your fault," wanted to say, "You did nothing wrong," but the words rolled across his tongue several times and never came out. He was afraid his voice would shake if he spoke. In his life, he had faced the frontal charges of countless soul beasts and desperate situations at the brink of death. He had never been afraid. But now, facing a female student kneeling on the ground and clutching his lapels as she cried, he felt helplessness seep from the cracks of his bones for the first time. He could not help her. He could not even protect her sister.

"It is not your fault." He finally said it, his voice deep and steady. One hand supported her shoulder, keeping her from sinking further down. "It is not either of your faults."

Gu Yue shook her head while clutching his lapels, shaking hard. Her silver hair stuck to her soaked cheeks, and her entire face rejected those words. Suddenly, she raised her head again, as though remembering something that broke her even more. Tears surged more fiercely, and her entire face convulsed.

"And you—Teacher Wu—I am sorry—I am sorry—my sister would not let me tell you any of this—she said I was not allowed to mention a single word to Teacher Wu—she said she was already dirty—she said she was not worthy of you—she said someone like Teacher Wu should not become involved with her—she said your voice was like the winter wind—clean—so clean that she did not dare stand too close—she said she knew you treated her well—but she could not accept it—she had no right to accept it—she said every time you helped her, she hated herself more—because she had deceived you—she was not worth it at all—"

Wu Changkong's body jolted. Not worthy. Dirty. No right. Not worth it. The words crashed down one after another, making his chest feel stifled. He remembered her smiling and waving outside the examination room, saying, "Everything's fine." He remembered her holding a thermos on the field and calling his name. He remembered the way she muttered to herself while sorting through freshman files in his office that day. She had always been smiling. Smiling before everyone. Smiling before her cousin. Smiling before him. Beneath that smile, this was what had been buried.

Gu Yue buried her face in Wu Changkong's chest, sobbing so hard that her entire body convulsed. Her throat could no longer make a sound. Her mouth hung open like a fish thrown onto shore, and only after a long while did she force out a hoarse, broken voice.

"Teacher Wu—arrange for me to withdraw from school—I told you all of my sister's secrets—if she finds out—she definitely will not want me anymore—she said if you dared tell anyone a single word, I would no longer be her sister—but I told—I told—I have no face left to stay here—she still has to come to work every day and pretend nothing is wrong—when she sees you, she will remember that she is dirty—what will she do—how will I face her—Teacher Wu, please—help me withdraw—let me leave—"

After saying that, she buried her face in his lapels and could not say another word. Only her shoulders continued to shake violently.

Wu Changkong knelt on one knee amid the fallen ginkgo leaves. One hand rested on Gu Yue's shoulder, while the other pressed against his knee, his knuckles clenched white. He could feel his heartbeat—heavy and slow, pounding against his chest one beat at a time. In his heart, he recited those names one by one—those people he did not know, those places he had never heard of, those wounds hidden beneath that white coat. With every name, he nailed another onto the edge of the Heavenfrost Sword. He took a clean handkerchief from his pocket—he never used handkerchiefs; Lu Menge had given him this one last Teachers' Day, saying he was too cold and should carry something soft with him—then placed it in Gu Yue's palm, folding her fingers over it one by one and wrapping them around the soft cloth.

"You will not withdraw from school." His voice was low, but every word was like magma buried beneath ice for a long time—scalding, solid, and beyond question. "And your sister will not abandon you. She is not the kind of person who throws away family."

He stood up. His knees were covered in crushed leaves and dirt, and a large patch across the front of his white clothes was soaked with tears, but he did not lower his head to look at it.

"I will not let her know you told me about today. You did not say anything—I found out on my own."

He looked down at Gu Yue, curled up on the bench, and reached out one final time, gently pressing the top of her head.

"Go back to the dorm and wash your face. Then go to class. Do not think about anything."

He turned and walked toward the teachers' apartments. At first, his steps were steady, heavy and powerful, as though each one would leave an imprint on the stone beneath his feet. Once he left the ginkgo tree's shade, his pace unconsciously grew faster and faster. By the time he reached the corner of the administration building, he was nearly striding at a run, his white robe snapping in the wind. The fingers gripping the Heavenfrost Sword had turned white, his bones nearly piercing his skin. The sheath trembled faintly at his waist—not because the sword was shaking, but because force was coursing through his wrist. The hand that had never trembled while holding a sword shook today.

Gu Yue sat on the bench beneath the ginkgo tree, slowly wiping the tears and mucus from her face with the handkerchief. Once Wu Changkong's white-clad figure had completely disappeared around the corner of the teachers' apartments, she buried her face in the handkerchief. Her shoulders began shaking again. This time, she was laughing.

She laughed for a long time, until the muscles in her stomach spasmed with soreness, until her throat—still hoarse from crying—gave out a distorted, suppressed breath. Tears still flowed, but they were no longer the same kind of tears. She fell backward and lay across the bench, staring up at the sky. Golden ginkgo leaves drifted lazily from the branches, landing on her forehead, shoulders, and knees.

"Not worthy of you—oh my heavens—how did I come up with that—" she muttered in a low voice. The corners of her mouth curled so high she could not force them down. Her voice was still hoarse, and she sounded like a broken gong. "And, 'Your voice is like the winter wind'—did Lu Menge spanking me scramble my brain at the time—"

The more she thought about it, the funnier it became. She rolled over and lay facedown on the bench, burying her face in the handkerchief as she laughed muffledly again. Only after a long while did she calm down. She rolled over and sat up, brushing ginkgo leaves and dirt from her skirt. Her eyes were still red and her voice still hoarse, but the expression on her face no longer resembled someone who had just emerged from a breakdown.

She took out her phone and sent Tang Wulin a message. The screen was damp with tears she had not wiped away, and it took several tries before she managed to send it.

Gu Yue: [He has set off.]

Tang Wulin replied instantly: Teacher Wu?? Where is he going????

Gu Yue: To save the fallen woman he thinks he has discovered.

Tang Wulin was silent for a long time, then sent a string of question marks and exclamation points, followed by one final message: Does Teacher Lu know????

Gu Yue thought for a moment, then replied: She does not know yet. But she will soon.

Tang Wulin: Are you okay?? Do you want me to come find you??

Gu Yue: No. I am by the ancient tree in the back mountain. Do not come over. Remember—if anyone asks about today, you know nothing.

Tang Wulin: Okay. Be careful, then.

Gu Yue put away her phone, rose from the bench, and headed toward the ancient tree behind the academy with unusually light steps. She probably would not return to the dorm tonight. She needed to hide near the ancient tree—once Lu Menge learned that Wu Changkong had questioned her, she would definitely come demanding an explanation. But Gu Yue was not afraid. Tonight, she would write a letter. Recipient—Di Tian. Subject—Update on Senior Lu: A certain Titled Douluo has completed the full leap in assumptions from "colleague" to "protector." I cooperated with the performance today, fully committed to the crying scene. Lines included "not worthy of you" and "your voice is like the winter wind." He appears completely convinced and has already gone to the teachers' apartments to confront her. Additional note: Senior Lu does not yet know. Her reaction after finding out remains to be observed. Second additional note: Please rest assured, Beast God. Senior Lu ate breakfast properly. It was chocolate milk.

After writing it, she leaned against the ancient tree trunk and held up the handkerchief Lu Menge had given Wu Changkong, studying it in the moonlight for a long time. This handkerchief was important evidence—if Lu Menge ever told her again that she was an eight-ring Soul Master, she would take it out.

"Teacher Lu, Teacher Lu," she said to the handkerchief, moonlight reflected in her violet eyes. Her voice was hoarse, but unable to conceal her amusement. "You are only just beginning to repay what you owe me."