They continued their journey through the dense forest, the canopy above casting shifting shadows that danced in the sunlight. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and foliage, but something about it felt… off.
Xue Tuzi had been restless since they departed, his sharp eyes constantly darting over his shoulder, his posture tense. Every so often, he would snap his ribbon out with a sharp crack against the ground, his gaze sweeping the trees as if expecting something—or someone—to emerge.
Xue Laohu, ever observant, noticed the paranoia creeping into Xue Tuzi's movements and seized the opportunity. With a casual air, he reached out, grasping Xue Tuzi's hand under the guise of steadying him.
"Relax," he murmured, interlacing their fingers. "You're safe."
More importantly, this served as an effective barrier—one that prevented a certain shaft from becoming aroused. Li Zhameng let his fingers dance idly over the blue orb rolling it slowly between his fingertips. The polished surface caught the light with each deliberate twist, flashing like a challenge in his palm. He didn't need to look up to know his Shizun was watching; he could feel the weight of that gaze, sharp enough to flay skin from bone. And when he finally stole a glance, the sight was sweeter than he'd hoped: his Shizun's jaw clenched, lips pressed into a bloodless line, as if the mere existence of the necklace was a personal affront.
"Shizun," Xue Tuzi said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm. "We are being followed." His grip on Xue Laohu's hand tightened, his body coiling like a predator ready to strike. His eyes swept the trees, sharp and calculating.
Xue Laohu, still fanning himself lazily, wiped the sweat from his brow. "You're just being paranoid," he said with an easy smile. "There's nothing here."
That was a lie.
He knew very well who had been trailing them. Shudu had been lurking in the shadows since they departed, moving with the kind of grace and patience that only a master of stealth could possess. They had been communicating telepathically, ensuring Shudu followed the plan and made his way to Qingyu Cun Village.
But Xue Tuzi wasn't convinced. His suspicion sharpened as he turned toward Jiao Jiao, who toddled beside them, utterly unbothered, playing with his worm plushie.
Xue Tuzi crouched, his expression softening, though his gaze remained cold and assessing.
"Xiao Jiao," he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from the child's face. "Is he here? Has he been following us?"
Xue Laohu stiffened.
Panic flared in his chest as he caught Jiao Jiao's eyes and quickly crossed his arms in an 'X,' signaling for the child to stay quiet.
Xue Tuzi's gaze flickered to him, but by the time he turned fully, Xue Laohu was already back to fanning himself, his expression calm and unreadable.
Jiao Jiao pouted, his tiny hands gripping his plushie tightly. His big, crimson eyes darted toward Xue Tuzi before quickly looking away.
"…No, Mama," he whispered. "He's not here."
Xue Tuzi's lips curled into a slow, cold smile. His eyes narrowed, studying the child carefully.
"Hmm," he hummed, his voice dangerously smooth. "I know my sweet Xiao Jiao wouldn't lie to me."
The gentle lilt of his words sent an icy shiver down Jiao Jiao's little back. His lips trembled before he abruptly burst into soft, nervous cries.
"Mama… hungry," he whimpered, clinging to Xue Tuzi's robe in a desperate attempt to break the tension.
Xue Tuzi exhaled through his nose, his sharp expression softening just enough. With a resigned sigh, he pulled out a bun from his qiankun pouch handing it over to Jiao Jiao.
Xue Laohu sighed in relief, snapping his fan shut. That was too close.
Still, his gaze flickered toward the trees, where he knew Shudu was lurking.
"Meng Meng, why don't you take the lead? It's getting dark. We could use that… Fox Fire—" He practically spat the words, rolling his eyes as if saying them left a bitter taste in his mouth. "As a guide," he added hastily, shoving a map into Li Zhameng's hands before he could ask any questions.
The journey stretched on until dusk, the party trudged forward until they reached a modest inn nestled between the trees, its wooden sign swaying slightly in the evening breeze. Xue Laohu wasted no time securing three rooms for the night. As the arrangements were made, a small tug at Xue Tuzi's robes made him glance down. Jiao Jiao blinked up at him with drowsy eyes, his small fingers curling into the fabric. "Thirsty, Mama. Thirsty," he murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion.
Xue Tuzi pulled out his water canteen and pressed it gently against the child's lips. "Xiao Jiao, small sips, baby," he warned softly. But Jiao Jiao, parched from the long journey, ignored the caution and gulped down the water greedily—too fast. He suddenly coughed, his tiny body convulsing as he choked. Xue Tuzi's brows knitted together as he quickly patted the child's back, easing the discomfort until the fit passed.
After a quiet dinner, each of them retired to their respective rooms. Xue Laohu, thoroughly exhausted, collapsed onto his bed without a second thought, sleep took him instantly, his mind drifting into a deep abyss.
Xue Tuzi lay beside Jiao Jiao, watching the gentle rise and fall of the child's small chest. No matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep refused to claim him. The stillness of the room felt suffocating, the weight of unseen thoughts pressing against his mind. He exhaled sharply and turned his gaze toward the window, the moonlight casting long, silvery streaks across the wooden floor. With a quiet sigh, he finally sat up, padding over to push the window open, letting the cool night breeze wash over him.
Slipping back into bed, he pulled Jiao Jiao into his arms, the child's warmth grounding him. The motion stirred the little one, who let out a soft, sleepy groan.
"I can't sleep, Xiao Jiao. Tell me a story," Xue Tuzi murmured, a gentle smile curving his lips as his fingers combed absently through the child's tufts of jet-black hair.
Jiao Jiao's tiny face scrunched up in protest, his cheeks puffing indignantly as his brows knitted together. He had been sleeping so comfortably, only to be woken up and—what's more—tasked with storytelling? Truly, Xue Tuzi was too much.
But Jiao Jiao knew exactly how to put him to sleep. With a sleepy little hum, he nuzzled closer, burrowing into the folds of Xue Tuzi's robes, his small nose searching for the warmth of bare skin. And then—his tiny teeth latched on, sinking into his collarbone to feed.
A slow, soothing pull, drawing from Xue Tuzi's energy. The effect was immediate. Xue Tuzi's body slackened, his restless mind quieting, the tension in his limbs dissolving. Jiao Jiao's suckling didn't last long—he too was tired. Before he could finish, his mouth released, his breathing evening out as he fell right back into slumber.
Xue Tuzi's eyes finally fluttered closed, and for a moment, peace blanketed the room.
Then—a sudden gust of wind.
The candles flickered violently before one extinguished entirely. The chill that accompanied the breeze was unnatural, sending an unsettling prickle down Xue Tuzi's spine. Instantly, his instincts sharpened. His body jerked upright, his hand snapping to his ribbon, fingers tightening around the fabric, ready to strike.
His voice was low, seething. "Come out, demon. I know you're here."
Silence stretched, thick and unmoving. His sharp gaze swept across the dimly lit room, searching, probing the shadows for movement.
His eyes flicked to Jiao Jiao, whose tiny frame remained undisturbed. The child snored softly, his long, curled lashes brushing against his plump cheeks. He looked so peaceful, utterly oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Xue Tuzi sighed, lowering his weapon as the fight drained from his body.
"You look just like him, you know that?" His voice was barely above a whisper as his fingers traced the child's delicate features. His thumb brushed over Jiao Jiao's cheek, the warmth beneath his touch soft and comforting. "I wonder if you'll grow up to be just like him. A little monster."
He exhaled, the ghost of a bitter smile on his lips, before finally leaning over to snuff out the last candle. Darkness embraced the room, and the quiet lull of sleep pulled at him once more.
From the corner of the room, a figure stirred.
Shudu had been watching. Silent. Unseen.
His presence remained weightless, but his eyes never left the sleeping beauty on the bed. Only when Xue Tuzi's breathing deepened, slipping into true rest, did he move. With fluid, soundless steps, he crossed the space between them, his fingers ghosting over the air before finally making contact.
A slow drag of his fingertip traced along Xue Tuzi's lips—full and soft, his nail grazing over the tiny mole hidden at the corner of his mouth. Shudu lingered there, memorizing the shape, the warmth beneath his touch.
And then, unable to resist, he leaned down.
A whisper of pressure.
A stolen kiss.
It lasted no more than a breath before he pulled away, vanishing into the shadows just as quietly as he had appeared.
Xue Tuzi stirred. A single eye cracked open, scanning the empty room. Nothing.
His tongue brushed over his lips, chasing the lingering warmth left behind.
A ghost of a smile.
And then, sleep reclaimed him.
Blah Blah Blah:
Xiao Ming Mini Theatre
In their journey Mini Ming, was not taking his forced separation from Li Zhameng well. As they walked, Xue Laohu leaned down slightly, speaking in a hushed, scolding tone to the excited troublemaker stirring in his trousers.
"What is with you?" he hissed, pushing Mini Ming down in an attempt to suppress him.
Mini Ming vibrated furiously in response, wriggling like an overeager puppy trying to slip its leash. He wanted—no, needed—to be by Li Zhameng's side. The pull was magnetic, irresistible, and yet Xue Laohu stubbornly refused to follow the direction his own body desired. Mini Ming, enraged by his host's foolish resistance, threw a full-blown tantrum inside Xue Laohu's pants.
"Hey! Cut it out!" Xue Laohu snapped, his voice pitched low to avoid drawing attention. He shoved Mini Ming down harder, wincing as the little fiend refused to be subdued.
Ahead of him, Xue Tuzi suddenly turned, eyes narrowing with concern. "Shizun, is everything alright?"
Xue Laohu's entire body stiffened.
"Yes, yes! Just handling some, uh… matters telepathically." He waved his fan dismissively, his face burning with humiliation. "Please, ignore me."
Without hesitation, he lifted his fan and gave Mini Ming a quick, sharp smack, hoping to discipline the little troublemaker into submission. A mistake. Mini Ming recoiled, then promptly shook with renewed vigor—because that voice, that sweet, familiar voice had just called out again:
"A-Tuzi, is Shizun alright?"
It was him.
Li Zhameng.
Mini Ming stood to full attention, trembling with excitement, his entire being alight with euphoria.
Xue Laohu panicked running deep into the woods, as soon as he was out of sight, he yanked down his pants, gripping Mini Ming by the head with barely contained fury.
"If you don't stop this nonsense, I will cut you," he threatened in a deadly whisper.
Mini Ming, in response, puffed up indignantly, turning his head with a dramatic hmph! If he could speak, he would have snapped, I'd like to see you try!
Xue Laohu groaned, exasperated beyond belief. "Why," he growled, "are you so obsessed with Li Zhameng, but not A-Tuzi?"
Mini Ming twitched in silent defiance, but the truth was clear.
Despite having seen Xue Tuzi in countless sexual positions—despite having witnessed every sound, every shuddering breath—Mini Ming felt nothing for him he did not desire him. He admired Shudu, respected him. Mini Ming had seen everything Shudu had done to Xue Tuzi—every touch, every kiss, every moment of control. And he… he wanted that for himself.
But not with Xue Tuzi.
With Li Zhameng.
To Mini Ming, Li Zhameng was pure, untouched, unclaimed. He longed for those big emerald eyes, flecked with gold, to look upon him with desire. He ached to hear that voice whisper his name—"Xiao Ming…"
The mere thought sent Mini Ming into a fit of helpless, longing tears. Xue Laohu ran a hand down his face, utterly done. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his qiankun pouch, pulling out a single, unassuming pill. Before they departed, he had stopped by the Great Sage's hut, searching for a remedy for this… particular problem.
But the cure had come with a steep price.
"If taken too frequently," the Great Sage had warned, "it will render you infertile."
Xue Laohu frowned, staring at the pill between his fingers. Then, with a deep breath, he tossed it into his mouth and swallowed.
End of Theatre
Ha ha ha thanks for putting up with me.