He had weathered through so much with his unshakeable will, and never once held a death wish. Yet, in these days--where he had the most freedom, had the least attachments to miss, and was most merry and wild--he had to wait for death to come. Wasn’t it very ironic?

Zhou Zishu discovered that this was probably another stupid thing that he had done.

At this moment, there was a light knock on his door from the outside. Zhou Zishu paused, taken aback--Wen Kexing and Ye Baiyi never knocked. He climbed off the bed. The surge of dull pain in his chest nearly made him lie back down again. His hand unconsciously tightened around the blanket; drawing in two deep breaths, he engaged his true qi with strenuous effort to suppress that suffocating feeling, before finally putting on a sullen expression to answer the door.

Zhang Chengling was standing outside, one hand still hesitantly raised like he had wanted to knock again. Once the door opened and he saw Zhou Zishu’s poor complexion, he instantly lowered his head guiltily and in distress like he had committed some abominable sin, and mumbled in a voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, “Shifu.”

Zhou Zishu frowned. “What are you doing?”

The corner of Zhang Chengling’s mouth tugged downwards. He looked as though he wanted to cry, but was holding it back. “Shifu, I just woke up...and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Zhou Zishu crossed his arms and leant against the door jamb, scoffing, “So...you're saying that you want me to sing you a lullaby and lull you to sleep?”

Zhang Chengling buried his head even lower; Zhou Zishu worried that his neck was going to snap. It was currently deep in winter, and even in Shuzhong, it was rather chilly at midnight. With his internal injury acting up, Zhou Zishu could not withstand the cold too well. Still feeling a little cold from the slight breeze blowing at him, he picked up his wine flask and took a huge swig, looking at Zhang Chengling with annoyance as he asked, “Can you be more straightforward? If you have something to say, quickly say it, if you have a fart to let loose, quickly let it loose.”

Zhang Chengling said in a quiet voice, “Shifu, I dreamt of my father and them again. It’s been so long, why haven’t I forgotten them? Am I especially useless?”

Zhou Zishu paused. After a long while, Zhang Chengling assumed that Zhou Zishu did not want to bother with him any longer, and furtively lifted his head to look at him. He was very much regretting coming over here without a second thought, but discovered that Zhou Zishu had turned slightly to take a step aside, and faintly nodded at him, signalling for him to enter.

Like he had been greatly relieved of a burden, Zhang Chengling waddled in obediently after him.