Wen Kexing raised his head and watched him. He gazed past the handsome features of the man before him, softened by the light, and was reminded of many things--he felt as though he had known this person for a very, very long time. An emotion had stirred within him the moment he laid eyes on the bones of his back; later on, he had grown to like his identity, and had thought that…so, this was how the leader of Tian Chuang was really like as a person. All of a sudden, the other person felt to him like a kindred soul of his in this world--they were both lone wolves who had been caught in hunters’ traps, struggling with all of their lives’ might to free themselves to no avail, and thus, were willing to gnaw their own legs off without mercy.

He couldn’t help himself from following him, from watching him. Then a revelation dawned on him--he realised, for the first time, that if Zhou Zishu could live like this, was it also a possibility for himself to live like this?

As he pondered, and pondered, the notion consumed him whole, and once it had consumed him, he could not free himself from it. Unconsciously, he reached out and caressed Zhou Zishu’s face, his fingers slightly bent and brushing his cheek gently. The coarse skin of a man was cool when it came into contact with his palm, covered with calluses and scars. All of a sudden, he said, "Don't die, will you. If you die, and I live on by myself, won't I be very lonely?"

Zhou Zishu grasped his wrist, but did not throw his hand off. He smiled, and said, "As long as there is a shred of a chance at survival, I cannot die. This life is mine. This martial ability is mine. The heavens granted me this path in life--if they wish to take it away, it won't be that easy."

Wen Kexing could feel his breath on his fingers. Eyes half-lidded, he murmured, almost in a trance, "That year, an owl knocked over the bowl of red water a villager was carrying in his hands…"

Zhou Zishu gazed at him. Expression unchanging, he asked the question he had once asked, “Why was the villager carrying a bowl of red water in his hands?”

Slowly, Wen Kexing started to smile, and said, “Water is colourless, but if human blood lands in it, won’t it turn red?”

Zhou Zishu looked at him, and said nothing else. Wen Kexing seemed to suddenly come back to his senses--light came back into his faraway eyes, and they curved up in a smile as he gazed at him and said, “A-Xu, sleep with me once. This way, we’d both keep each other in our hearts. You won’t die that easily then, and neither will I. What do you think?”