Bathing Together

The vast bathhouse was enveloped in a swirling white mist, with water spilling steadily from outlets around the pool, sending up splashes. Beigong Juechen lounged against the white jade edge, his long black hair damp and scattered carelessly over his body. His skin, even paler than the jade, was marked with kisses of varying shapes and depths, alluring to the extreme.

His eyes were gently closed, yet there was no trace of weariness on his face. Like feathers, his thick lashes fluttered as he slowly opened his eyes, revealing a rare pair of dark emerald irises. Indifferent, he turned his head, gazing with lazy interest at the two people entering side by side.

Apparently, the newcomers had not expected anyone to be bathing, for when they saw Beigong Juechen, both looked slightly embarrassed. Yet the man in the pool paid them no mind, stretching his aching waist, then arching an eyebrow at the man suddenly appearing at Zhucha’s side. “Yuhua Palace?”

The man started faintly, but immediately cupped his fist respectfully. “Indeed. I am Su Yueling, senior disciple of Yuhua Palace.” Beigong Juechen nodded carelessly, drawling, “What brings someone from Yuhua Palace to my Li Manor?”

These days, Li Manor stood at the pinnacle of the martial world, its nature ambiguous—neither righteous nor evil. In contrast, the Hundred Fiends Palace and Gen Sha Sect were infamous for their ruthlessness, while Yuhua Palace and the Myriad Immortal Sect were their righteous counterparts. The Myriad Immortal Sect was renowned for its healing arts, and its leader, Tu Hua, was famed as the “Healer Saint,” said to revive the dead.

Yuhua Palace, on the other hand, was more discreet and enigmatic, perched atop Mount Hua, with disciples who rarely descended. When they did, it was always to settle thorny matters. Their martial style was unique, their disciples formidable, and their sixty-four battle formations were unfathomable. Their leader, Yin Ji, had been known as the “Sword Saint” for over a decade, thanks to his self-created “Autumn Water Sword.”

Su Yueling raised his head slightly, smiling. “I have come down the mountain seeking my junior brother.” At this, Beigong Juechen’s brows lifted as he glanced at Zhucha beside Su Yueling. “He is your junior brother?”

“He is,” Su Yueling replied. “This is my junior, Zhucha.”

“Zhucha…” Beigong Juechen’s lips curved in amusement. “Who gave him that name?”

“Master did,” Zhucha answered before Su Yueling could speak. Beigong Juechen nodded indifferently and closed his eyes again, turning his head away languidly. “You came to bathe?”

“There’s a bathhouse in the rear garden of Zilin Pavilion. Why come here at midnight?” Before either could reply, a clear, melodious voice drifted in, as enchanting as a feather brushing cheek and palm, leaving a tingling afterglow.

Su Yueling instinctively turned. A slender youth in a pale yellow robe entered unhurriedly. Su Yueling had watched Zhucha grow up and knew his beauty well, but this youth was not merely beautiful—he was dazzling, unrivaled in his allure.

Beigong Qiyi glanced coldly at the two, then walked slowly to the bath’s edge. Beigong Juechen, eyes still shut, seemed oblivious to the newcomer. Without a word, Qiyi took a bamboo scoop, filled it with water, and poured it gently over the man’s gleaming white back.

Su Yueling watched the scene in puzzlement, narrowing his eyes. Zhucha glanced at him, then away, saying nothing.

Only after the bucket was empty did Beigong Juechen finally open his eyes. “There is indeed a bathhouse in Zilin Pavilion’s rear garden. But since you’re here, you are guests—bathe here.” With that, he stood up slowly.

Su Yueling was taken aback, his gaze drifting to where Beigong Juechen stood. Through the drifting mist, all he could see was a vision of flawless white—enough to make his heart tremble. He hurriedly lowered his eyes.

“Brother…” Beigong Qiyi frowned, clearly disapproving, yet Beigong Juechen paid him no heed, walking straight past them. Unable to object, Qiyi simply gritted his teeth, his handsome face dark, and followed.

Earlier, the mist and distance had obscured Beigong Juechen’s features. But now, seeing him up close, Su Yueling realized that, as Zhucha’s elder brother, he naturally resembled him—surely another outstanding beauty. Yet prepared though he was, seeing Beigong Juechen in the flesh still took his breath away.

Beigong Juechen was indeed striking, sharing much of Zhucha’s cold, chiseled beauty, though lacking Qiyi’s flamboyant charm. Yet there was something more: a grandeur that set him above all others, a chill that penetrated the soul, a proud, unyielding presence.

No one else could be both so beautiful and so awe-inspiring, a beauty that made one want to fall to their knees in reverence. There would never be another like him…

Su Yueling took a slow breath. Beigong Juechen had already left the bathhouse. Beigong Qiyi cast them a cold glance, then smiled meaningfully. “Gentlemen, enjoy yourselves…”

Su Yueling looked at Qiyi, then at Zhucha. “The master and young master of Li Manor are both as extraordinary as rumor claims.” Zhucha merely shot him a frosty glance and began undressing in silence.

“Hey, Zhucha, you—” Zhucha said nothing, slipping off his clothes as he walked toward the pool. By the time he stepped into the water, not a stitch remained.

Zhucha’s beauty differed from Qiyi’s dazzling flamboyance or Juechen’s proud severity. His was a cool, tranquil allure, like moonlight—subtle yet breathtaking. Though Su Yueling had cared for him since childhood and was well aware of his beauty, seeing the smooth, flawless skin, like the finest white jade, sparked a sudden unease.

Everything was unfolding as planned—so why did it feel strangely different?

Zhucha glanced back at the still-dazed Su Yueling, narrowing his phoenix eyes. “Weren’t you going to bathe?” Su Yueling, regaining his composure, nodded. Unlike Zhucha, he didn’t undress as he walked. Instead, he gathered up Zhucha’s discarded clothes, laying them neatly on the rack before removing his own, one piece at a time.

Years of sword practice had left his body healthily tanned, not pale, his muscles well-defined and graceful. As he bent his arms, the shifting lines of his back came into Zhucha’s view, and Zhucha’s green gaze darkened, fixed on Su Yueling’s exposed skin.

“What is it? Why are you staring at me?” Once undressed, Su Yueling slid into the pool, smiling. Zhucha’s eyes still didn’t move. “Senior brother, you have a fine figure.”

Su Yueling chuckled. “Why say that all of a sudden? All right, stop staring. Turn around and I’ll scrub your back.”

“Okay.” Zhucha obediently turned, and Su Yueling gathered his long hair to the front, baring a smooth expanse of snowy back.

The white mist coiled and rose, veiling the two figures in the pool…

***

“Brother, who would have thought your little junior is from Yuhua Palace? And to think someone from Yuhua Palace would masquerade as a courtesan in the men’s quarters—he’s quite bold.” Beigong Qiyi sat cross-legged on the bed, laughing softly.

Beigong Juechen glanced at him indifferently. “It was Yin Ji who saved him. If I recall, the foreign tribe’s land is perilous, riddled with traps—no outsider can enter. How, then, did Yin Ji rescue him?”

At these words, Qiyi’s smile faded. He lowered his voice, “You mean… Yin Ji may have planned this from the start?” Beigong Juechen didn’t answer immediately, staring at the incense burner on the bedstand. The fragrant smoke curled upward. After a long silence, he finally said, “Have someone look into it.”

“Understood.” Qiyi nodded. Seeing Beigong Juechen’s expression unchanged, he couldn’t help but ask, “Brother, why were you sent to Li Manor in the first place?” Beigong Juechen turned, meeting the boy’s wide, innocent eyes. “My mother once saved your father. Li Manor was the safest place to go.”

“How old were you when you came?” Qiyi pressed on. Beigong Juechen blinked. “Three. The first person I met here wasn’t my father or mother—it was my grandfather.”

Qiyi recalled how Beigong Juechen had described Beigong Xinmo in the tomb, and couldn’t help but laugh softly.

A child of only three, no matter how precocious or composed, having witnessed the death of his parents and then delivered to a strange place—he must have been frightened. All the more so, meeting Beigong Xinmo, a truly formidable man. Perhaps that’s why his presence lingered so powerfully in Beigong Juechen’s heart.

Qiyi inched closer, resting his head on Juechen’s shoulder with a smile. “People do grow alike after being together, don’t they? We’re not even real brothers, yet we’re six-tenths alike. If I hadn’t been close to you as a child, if I’d stayed by Father’s side, perhaps you wouldn’t think much of me now.”

Beigong Juechen looked at the youth draping himself over him. Qiyi raised his dark, glassy eyes. The man, whom Qiyi expected to ignore him, unexpectedly retorted with a line that made Qiyi laugh and cry at once: “What makes you think I think much of you now?”

“….”

Seeing the boy’s embarrassed face, Beigong Juechen suddenly felt his previously clouded heart grow lighter.

Author’s note: Haha, our little Zhucha is definitely the top, la la la.
Thinking of writing a story for Zhucha and his senior brother—what do you all think?
The household internet was down for days—finally it’s working again.