Refuse to trample on the pride of heaven

Chapter 363: Threading the Needle

Duan Jiashu has been practicing in his spare time recently, but the demonic energy is overbearing, and he is surrounded by spiritual energy, so he cannot control it and ends up ruining a lot of his clothes.

Duan Jiashu sat cross-legged on the bluestone, and the demonic energy lingering around his body suddenly surged. As a result, with a "rip" sound, a three-inch-long cut appeared on the edge of the thread under his arm.

This was the third time today that the demonic energy got out of control, but fortunately it did not break into strips like it did in the past few days - he touched the edge of the charred crack with his finger, and the remaining demonic energy immediately wrapped around his fingertips, as if mocking his poor control.

"Brother, are you having trouble with the clothes again?"

A brisk voice with the sweet aroma of pastries wafted over, and the smiling voice startled Duan Jiashu so much that he turned his head. He saw Wu Feipeng leaning against the carved door, with a red agate headband hanging on his shoulders and his amber eyes curved into crescents.

He was wearing a bamboo green short shirt with narrow sleeves today, and silver wire armor wrapped around his wrists. He really looked like a chivalrous knight in the mortal world - if you ignore the two buttons on his collar that were deliberately unbuttoned, revealing his collarbone vaguely.

Duan Jiashu subconsciously gathered his clothes and avoided the person who came: "I told you not to come into my bedroom casually."

"This is our bedroom for two..."

Wu Feipeng was always frivolous towards him, completely different from the obedient and dutiful person he had been when they first met. Duan Jiashu just regarded it as a sign of change for the older man, and was not particularly touched by his somewhat ambiguous words.

"Brother~ I was so kind to bring you your favorite food, but now I can't even enter the door?"

Wu Feipeng placed the cake wrapped in yellow paper on the table and tugged at Duan Jiashu's coat: "Well, it's much more complete than before."

Duan Jiashu slapped away the dishonest claws: "Don't move, it's already torn apart."

"Can I help you mend your clothes? I always carry needle and thread with me. Before I joined the mountain sect, I mended my own clothes."

Duan Jiashu was about to decline when Wu Feipeng sat down next to him.

"No need to..."

"Oh~ Brother, you like to be naked?"

Duan Jiashu glared at him. When the young man raised his face, the corners of his eyes drooped like a young deer. When he tilted his head, a strand of hair fell from his forehead, casting a shadow on the tip of his nose, making him look a bit childish, which immediately softened his heart.

Looking at the pair of misty eyes, Duan Jiashu's Adam's apple moved. When he came to his senses, Wu Feipeng had already lowered his head and was threading the needle with a silver needle, with the ends of his hair falling on his knees.

The raven-black hair wet by the morning mist brushed across the back of his hand. Duan Jiashu retracted his fingers as if he had been electrocuted, only to see the young man smoothing out the wrinkles on the fabric with his shiny fingertips.

The jade pendants worn by the disciples were hung around Wu Feipeng's waist. As he threaded the needle, they swayed slightly, causing wisps of agarwood to fall between the overlapping hems of their clothes.

Duan Jiashu's Adam's apple rolled, and the remaining burning heat from the demonic energy seemed to spread behind his ears. He thought of the young man who reached out to him that day, his wet eyes like peach blossoms fallen by the rain, and gradually overlapped with the figure of him mending with his eyes lowered at this moment.

"Brother, your heart is beating so fast." Wu Feipeng suddenly chuckled, and his fingertips touched the edge of the crack in the black clothes, which startled Duan Jiashu and made his muscles tense.

"Don't move." Wu Feipeng suddenly moved closer, and his warm breath swept across his neck.

The instigator smiled innocently and traced the suture line with his fingertips. "It will take two stitches here to make it fit... Don't move."

The young man held the silver needle in his fingertips and pierced it through the crack. The silk thread glowed with pearly luster as he moved. Duan Jiashu then realized that the other party had pushed all his long hair to his left shoulder, revealing the cinnabar mole on his right earlobe, which flickered in the light and shadow as he lowered his head.

This expression overlapped with the person transformed by the phantom demon of Misty Mountain that day - at that time, the demon was facing Wu Feipeng's face, and its eyelashes trembled as if covered with morning dew as it looked at him. It knew clearly that it was fake, but his sword-holding hand stopped in mid-air.

At this moment, the real culprit was kneeling beside him with his coat on his knees, threading the needle with such piety that he looked like he was offering sacrifices to gods and Buddhas.

Duan Jiashu avoided the question awkwardly, thinking that he was just imagining things.

No wonder there is a saying that two minds are in sync. At this moment, Wu Feipeng inexplicably thought of the Misty Mountain, and his fingertips unconsciously stroked the silver needle in his hand.

When the monster transformed into his own appearance, even the small mole on his earlobe was exactly the same, but he chose to imitate the drooping eyebrows and eyes of a mortal, which really fooled Duan Jiashu so much that he reduced his strength even though he knew it was fake.

The candle flame flickered outside the window paper. He lowered his head to bite off the silk thread and pressed his left knee another half an inch towards the blue brick floor. This angle allowed Duan Jiashu to see his drooping eyelashes, but he could not see the fleeting curve of the corner of his lips.

"hiss......"

The sound that escaped from the throat was pinched just right, and the person who was looking around indeed stopped moving.

"Hey! Are you okay? I told you not to patch it up, did you get pricked?"

The voice was a little anxious. Wu Feipeng could imagine Duan Jiashu's expression at the moment without raising his eyes. The tip of the needle hung on the tip of his thumb for a long time, but no blood was drawn in the end - if he was really injured, he would definitely not be asked to sew it later. Besides, how could an ordinary silver needle hurt him?

He suddenly remembered how intimate Liu Jiqian was with his senior brother, the man who seemed frosty even when showing weakness, but with a hint of red at the corners of his eyes, his senior brother could take his hand - a master, a master among masters.

"Don't move."

A hand with thin calluses suddenly covered him, and Wu Feipeng relaxed his grip, allowing Duan Jiashu to take away the silver needle in his loose grip.

When the warm breath brushed the fur on the back of his neck, he fluttered his eyelashes at just the right moment. He saw his pupils reflected in the mirror not far away. They were indeed glistening with water, just like a wet deer in the back hills. Even the ending tone, which he had tried to keep light, was lingering in his throat.

"It wasn't bleeding, it was just close, I made a fuss..."

Wu Feipeng lowered his head as the other party's breathing suddenly became lighter, hiding the sparkling light in his eyes - Liu Jiqian's ability to act pitiful was indeed three times more effective than his simple intimacy.

Wu Feipeng's fingertips trembled and happened to hook the other person's little finger.

The pity in this world always has to be mixed with pain, just like at this moment, although he clearly did not shed tears, the flickering candlelight in Duan Jiashu's eyes was hotter than ever.

"Here... can you cover it with the black lotus embroidery for me?"

Before Duan Jiashu could answer, Wu Feipeng had bent down and bit off the thread. The morning light cast a layer of honey on the ends of his hair, instantly dyeing Duan Jiashu's collar with sandalwood. He stroked the fabric - after all, it was mended by his "brother", so he would change it and keep it, and would not wear it anymore.

The light from the window blended the two people's shadows into the rising mist. Wu Feipeng noticed the change in Duan Jiashu's expression, and suddenly felt fortunate that he had secretly practiced the angle of lowering his eyes in front of the mirror for seven days.

At this moment, his heartbeat was so intense that his chest ached, but he imitated the look of the Phantom Demon that day by pursing the corners of his lips into an aggrieved arc. Even the frequency of his eyelashes trembling was exactly the same as he remembered.

Wounds should be hidden 70% and exposed 30% to attract sympathy, and retreat is the key to advance. This is the essence he learned from Liu Jiqian.

The most wonderful thing about acting pitiful is not the tears but the temperature. At this moment, his fingertips are cold, but his breath is hot, just like the black sesame seeds flowing through the snow-white glutinous rice skin, which always makes people hold it in their mouths for fear that it will melt, but they are reluctant to spit it out.

Duan Jiashu had never seen anything like this before. He was so embarrassed that his face turned red. He held Wu Feipeng's hand and couldn't utter a word.

"Hongyu..." Lu Wensheng was thinking about the messages in the jade mirror and wanted to discuss it with Wu Feipeng. He looked carefully as soon as he entered the room, blinked, and walked out as if nothing had happened.

"excuse me."

Duan Jiashu threw his palm forward: “!!!” It’s not what you think!

Wu Feipeng: Senior Brother?!

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(Wu Feipeng looks in the mirror—I am my sister-in-law)