The bed was actually quite large, spread with straw and padded with a blanket. There were two quilts as well. It was a "double room," after all, and neither of them was at the bottom of the pecking order. They could count as minor leaders, so their accommodations were decent enough.
That evening, Zhao Changhe was still practicing outside in the snow, while Luo Qi climbed into bed first. He tucked himself against the inner side, wrapped himself in a quilt, and watched Zhao Changhe through the doorway with darting eyes as he held a horse stance and chopped with his saber. The blows against the wooden post fell in a steady rhythm.
He was so focused that he never even turned his head.
Luo Qi pursed his lips, then suddenly asked, "You're training this hard from morning to night without stopping. Don't your muscles ache?"
Zhao Changhe answered without looking back, "The Blood Baleful Art is pretty interesting. It seems to take care of that problem. They really don't hurt."
"Don't you get tired, either?"
"I do, and I seem to tire more easily. I need to rest now and then. Basically, it probably overdrafts your blood and vital energy. You're powerful in the moment, then collapse afterward. I got into a fight today, too, and felt it much more clearly than I do during practice."
Luo Qi looked thoughtful. "Demonic arts really are strange... You've only practiced for two days, and you can already feel such obvious effects. With the Luo Family's technique, anyone who senses the flow of energy within a month is considered very talented."
"It has to have something going for it. Otherwise, who'd play a demonic cult character?"
"What do you mean, a demonic cult character... Wait, you just said you got into a fight? With whom?" Luo Qi suddenly caught on, his expression growing grave.
Zhao Changhe finally turned to look at him. Seeing his expression, he grinned. "Is my senior brother planning to stand up for me? Man, I keep forgetting you're actually a lot stronger than I am."
"Of course I'm a lot stronger than you!"
"Then what the hell are you scared of when you go to sleep? Could I really bust your ass? I should be scared of you."
"Why does your mouth get so filthy once we're familiar? You weren't like this before..." Luo Qi pressed a hand to his forehead. "I'm asking who you fought and whether you need help."
"How else should friends act once they know each other? Anyway, I won. It's fine."
Luo Qi couldn't be bothered with him anymore and rolled over to face the wall. "If you know we're friends, remember to call me next time something like this happens. If I'm not around, lie low first. There's always time to get revenge later. You've only been learning for two days, so don't be too reckless. You might look big, but that bulk isn't actually much use."
"Okay, okay, okay." Zhao Changhe was quite pleased. This guy was genuinely starting to act like a friend. Still, seeing him climb into bed right after eating left Zhao Changhe a little puzzled. "Say, I've never seen you practice. Don't you need to?"
"I cultivate internal energy. I can do it lying down."
"...You've got it that easy? Why do I see other people sitting cross-legged, with their five centers facing heaven and all that?"
"That's a Daoist thing. There are plenty of schools in this world. Some people even cultivate while walking or running. Every school is different, and cultivating lying down isn't unusual." Luo Qi suddenly laughed. "Well? Regretting that you didn't learn my Luo Family's outer disciple cultivation method?"
Zhao Changhe did indeed look a little miserable. He gazed upward and thought for quite a while before sighing. "There's nothing to regret. I don't want comfort. I want speed."
"So that's why you practice day and night?"
"Yeah..."
"The martial path calls for both tension and release. Forcing things isn't necessarily good. Get some rest." Luo Qi paused, seemingly realizing that this was little different from inviting him into bed, then added, "Keep your paws to yourself when you get up here. It's disgusting."
Zhao Changhe snapped, "Do you really think I'm gay? You think I wouldn't find it disgusting, too?"
He delivered another chop and found he still wasn't tired. "You sleep first. I'm doing a full thousand chops tonight before I stop."
Luo Qi's eyes widened. "Lunatic."
"Am I?" Zhao Changhe said quietly. "If I'm not a little mad, how can I hold on to the things I don't want to lose?"
Luo Qi's expression grew complicated. Watching Zhao Changhe sweat in the darkness, his eyes held a hatred that was hard to put into words, yet also an admiration he could barely conceal. In the end, it all became a soft, lingering sigh, and he closed his eyes.
He appeared to be asleep, but he was actually cultivating internal energy as well.
One inside, one outside; one still, one moving. Together, they formed a scene all their own in the utter silence of the snowy night.
Who knew how much time had passed? Zhao Changhe had no idea how many chops he had made, either. At last, he was utterly exhausted, but inwardly satisfied.
He was beginning to get a feel for it and had gained a measure of control. His strikes were growing faster, steadier, and more precise. When he had first hacked hard at the wooden post, the saber marks had been a chaotic mess, and it had been difficult to hit the exact spot he wanted. Now the marks were clustering closer and closer together, approaching a single line.
The legendary descriptions of "wielding it as naturally as an arm commands its fingers" and "where the thought goes, the blade follows" really were results that could be achieved through prolonged practice.
Nothing more than a practiced hand-an enduring truth unchanged through the ages.
"Damn, I'm covered in stinking sweat, and there's nowhere to bathe. This sucks." Zhao Changhe wiped away his sweat as he returned to the room, still complaining, but fell silent when he saw that Luo Qi seemed to be asleep.
Part of the reason he trained so desperately was to keep out the cold. His clothes were thin for the depths of winter. If he didn't keep moving, he could really freeze to death. Yet whenever he stopped and the cold wind hit him, he felt especially chilled instead.
Helplessly, Zhao Changhe hung up his undershirt to dry, wiped down his body, and crawled under his own quilt.
Luo Qi drew back a little, edging farther inward.
"You're not asleep?"
"Your saber chops were so loud. Who could sleep?"
Zhao Changhe felt a little embarrassed. "Then I won't practice with the saber at night anymore. I'll just cultivate."
"No need," Luo Qi said stiffly. "Since you want to get stronger quickly, how can you stop over something so trivial? I don't care anyway. As for what anyone else thinks, they can go to hell."
"If you don't care, go to sleep. Anyway, I'm dead tired. I'm sleeping first."
"..."
The room fell quiet.
Zhao Changhe really was worn out. He simply closed his eyes and went to sleep. With each of them tucked under a separate quilt, they couldn't actually touch each other. Where was all that rubbing and groping Luo Qi had imagined supposed to come from? What was true was that they both smelled, making the experience thoroughly unpleasant.
He had no mind to investigate whether the other person was a man or a woman. He truly had a bellyful of worries now; who had the mood to let their thoughts wander every which way? As he had said, it was better if Luo Qi wasn't a woman. Being a woman would only add trouble, while being a man saved so much fuss.
With no other thoughts on his mind, Zhao Changhe soon fell asleep. Beside him, Luo Qi clutched his quilt nervously. Though he appeared to have turned toward the wall, his eyes were wide open, his whole body taut, and his heart felt ready to leap out of his throat.
Would he dare put his arm around me? Surely he wouldn't. He said he wouldn't, and that he'd find it disgusting too, didn't he?
But what if he unconsciously puts his arm around me in his sleep?
If he's unconscious, even if he does, he won't notice anything, right?
Then what if he wakes up before I do? Won't he find out?
Luo Qi's thoughts were a tangled skein of hemp. Sleep escaped him completely.
Then thunderous snores rose beside him. In no time at all, Zhao Changhe was sleeping so deeply that heaven and earth might as well have ceased to exist. Luo Qi turned over irritably and raised his foot, ready to deliver a vicious kick. After a moment's hesitation, he slowly lowered it instead.
His eyes glimmered as he studied Zhao Changhe's profile in the darkness. The saber scar on his face remained striking even in the night.
Really, calling Zhao Changhe's scar ugly would have been a little dishonest. It wasn't ugly. If anything, it gave him a distinctive, wild beauty-very masculine.
That was because Zhao Changhe himself was handsome and virile. Whatever someone handsome did to his look, it became a different kind of cool. Ugly people shouldn't try copying it.
Zhao Changhe was an exceptionally well-behaved sleeper. He truly didn't move at all. After watching him for a long while, Luo Qi gradually relaxed as well. At some point, utterly exhausted himself, he could no longer hold out and finally drifted into a hazy sleep.
In his dream, someone seemed to be gently setting food before him.
Dimly, he heard himself ask, "Mother, why aren't you eating?"
The person in the dream stroked his head. "Mother ate at noon. I'm not hungry."
The person's face was indistinct. It existed only in memories from when he was a few years old, and he had long since forgotten what it looked like.
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