At this moment, he felt a warmth on his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Wen Kexing, who had appeared sometime ago without him noticing, standing behind him and settling an overcoat on him. Silently, he sat beside Zhou Zishu, and after a while, asked out of the blue, “Does it hurt?”

Zhou Zishu scoffed. “How about you give it a try too?”

Abruptly, Wen Kexing stretched his hand out to test the waters, gently brushing open the front of his robes. For some unknown reason, Zhou Zishu did not duck away, but sat there, the flask with half the wine remaining in it still dangling from his hand. Wen Kexing took in the sight of his chest, which was as skeletal as his fingers were, and the topmost nail hammered into it. The light in his eyes flickered. Then, he drew in a sudden, deep breath of air, and refastened Zhou Zishu’s robes.

The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, but had no words for each other at this moment.

A while later, Wen Kexing finally asked, “I say, after spending so much effort all these years, I’ve finally found this one person that I have affinity with and is to my liking. Can you not die on me?”

Zhou Zishu asked in reply, “Is that something I have a say in?”

Wen Kexing did not say anything else. Suddenly sighing, he moved his gaze away from Zhou Zishu as though he did not wish to see him any longer, and fixed his eyes on Zhang Chengling, who was wobbling in the courtyard like an infant learning how to walk. Casually picking up a few pebbles from the ground, he flicked one out, hitting Zhang Chengling right on his bottom, and said, "Little tyke, what they call martial lightness of the body all comes down to one word: speed. You're over there taking your own time like you're embroidering flowers, is that practicing qinggong? The steps and all that are superficial--even a spirit possession dancer might still have steps to follow. Even if you do not make a single misstep, is there any use in doing it so slowly?”

Zhang Chengling looked at the two of them, feeling very wronged. He discovered that not only did these two differ in their opinions on practicing qi, they also had differed in the ways they taught qinggong; there was simply no way for him to keep living.

To one side, Wen Kexing kept nagging "You have to be quick", while casting the pebbles at him in pursuit. Although Zhou Zishu did not speak, his gaze did not leave Zhang Chengling's feet a single inch, as he predatorily waited for him to slip up so that he could have an excuse to break his legs--

This one night could not have been more nerve-wracking.