Today is a bit strange.
After seeing off the two children, Qiuqiu Gulu yesterday, Ningning made plans with Pei Ji to go to Wangyue Peak to see the snow the next day. However, at the agreed time, Ningning waited quietly in front of the door for a long time but did not see his shadow.
That day, there was a thunderous storm, and she knew that Pei Ji's old wounds were not healed, so she couldn't help but worry. She knocked on his door.
No one answered. The courtyard was only filled with gently falling snowflakes, eerily quiet.
Ningning subconsciously felt something was wrong, took out the key from her bag, and hastily pushed the door open.
There was no one in the main hall or study. She looked around and finally came to the bedroom.
Pei Ji's bedroom was clean and tidy, without any fancy decorations to hide behind. Ningning could see the whole empty space at a glance.
No, not "empty."
On the corner of the wooden bed, hidden in the thick white bedding, there was a lump with undulating curves.
It looked like someone lying under the blanket, but the figure was too small, not like Pei Ji, more like a child.
Ningning frowned, stepped quickly towards the bed, and perhaps hearing her footsteps, the person in the quilt trembled slightly—
Soon Ningning uncovered the quilt, the sunlight dazzled his eyes, making him curl up tighter, small and curled up like a shrimp.
It was a thin and weak little boy.
And he was wearing Pei Ji's robe.
His disheveled black hair, as dark as ink, seemed like it had not been groomed for a long time, messy and flowing like a rugged winding stream.
Some long hair fell on his face, covering most of his features. Through the gaps in the hair, his bloodless pale skin could be seen.
Like fragile porcelain, about to shatter at the slightest touch.
For some reason, although most of his face was covered, this child inexplicably felt familiar to Ningning. She leaned down, trying to speak softly, "Are you okay?"
The boy hung his head, silent.
Pei Ji had a slender figure, and his clothes were inevitably oversized for a child. The boy's slender neck seemed to be covered with only a thin layer of skin, his collarbone exposed outside the shirt, too conspicuous.
Even though he tried to suppress it, he couldn't help but tremble slightly.
Ningning caught sight of the scarred old wounds on his body, each position very familiar.
A strange thought popped into her mind, and she involuntarily called out, "Pei Ji?"
The boy shrank again, burying his head even lower.
...This can't be.
"Do you remember who I am?"
Her heart raced, and she reached out to brush the black hair off his face. When her fingertips touched the boy's skin, she felt him trembling more violently.
As the dark hair fell, as expected, Ningning saw a familiar face.
Young Pei Ji was so thin, his face devoid of any extra flesh, almost starved to the point of losing his image.
His features had yet to fully mature, but he already had the future sharp and stern contours, with handsome eyebrows and a high nose, looking timid with his eyes tightly closed and thin lips drawn into a straight line.
So what was going on now? If this was the young Pei Ji, his wounds were clearly already scarred—
Ningning suddenly startled.
Could it be that, like the Sect Master, Pei Ji had also transformed into a child due to damage to his spiritual sea and blocked spiritual power?
But what about the memory loss? Looking at his appearance, he clearly no longer remembered Ningning's name.
"...Don't be afraid."
Seeing his fear of touch, she tactfully withdrew her right hand. "I won't hurt you. Your name is 'Pei Ji,' right?"
The boy lying on the bed fluttered his long eyelashes.
He had not yet figured out the current situation. For him, everything that happened today felt like a dream.
Last night, as usual, his mother scolded and beat him, his whole body aching and cold. Pei Ji lay confusedly in the cellar, shivering from the bone-chilling cold of winter.
He fell asleep groggily, never expecting that when he opened his eyes the next day, instead of the dim cellar, his sight was filled with a long-lost, winter morning light.
Pei Ji had not seen the sunlight for too long.
In that dim cellar, he once desperately longed to see the sunlight, but now that he truly found himself under the sun, the boy felt a bit fearful and confused—
Like a rat in the gutter, only fit for sneaking around at night, once exposed to the light, he would understand how pitiful and miserable he was.
Accustomed to darkness, the sunlight stung his eyes, forcing him to shut them closed, only able to smell a sudden approaching fragrance.
The voice did not come from his mother; his mother never spoke to him so gently like this.
—Has she finally grown tired of him and handed him over to someone else?
The familiar voice of the shadow no longer existed. Before him was pitch black, surrounded by only confusion, panic, despair, and endless fear, and unexpectedly, the scent reached closer to him.
Something warm fell on Pei Ji's forehead.
"Pei Ji."
The person's voice was very soft, unreasonably gentle, sliding slowly from his ears and landing directly on his heart: "Don't be afraid, open your eyes."
The boy clenched the bedsheets with his fingertips.
In the cellar, his mother would occasionally command him to beg for mercy or apologize, and Pei Ji rarely responded; most of the time, he gritted his teeth and endured it.
But this voice at the moment was tempting, carrying an indescribable sense of familiarity, making him involuntarily want to get closer.
Pei Ji slowly opened his eyes.
The glaring sunlight unexpectedly dissipated, replaced by a soft dim light that enveloped the entire bedroom.
The windows seemed to have been tightly shut at some point. The person leaned their thumb against his forehead, their palm tilting downwards, casting a dense shadow in front of his eyes, blocking the impudent light.
"I'm Ningning."
Ningning smiled at him, her dark almond-shaped eyes like a night pool, rippling gently, excessively gentle: "Your mother isn't here, I won't harm you."
After choosing her words carefully, she asked him softly, "Can I touch you?"
Pei Ji pursed his lips but still did not answer.
The stranger in front of the bed hesitated for a moment, sighed silently, and suddenly lowered her body, her voice almost a whisper: "Come here."
Seeing her reach out her hand, he instinctively wanted to protect his head and hide, but unexpectedly, neither curses nor slaps fell upon him.
One hand held the back of his head, while the other lightly wrapped around his arm and gently lifted him up; the boy's entire body fell into Ningning's embrace.
Pei Ji was nervous and at a loss, his heartbeat accelerating like never before.
He was still trembling, his small body frail and weak. Ningning hugged him as if she were holding a thin skeleton.
Young Pei Ji looked like this when he was little, growing up without being cherished, unknowing and bewildered about everything, like a quiet little beast that had not yet grown its fangs.
Ningning felt stifled and uncomfortable in her heart, her left hand covering his protruding collarbone, her right hand patting Pei Ji's head.
The sensation of being touched was very strange to him; Pei Ji couldn't tell if it was comfortable or itchy. This was the first time someone had made such a gesture towards him.
The warm embrace with a hint of fragrance gradually calmed his trembling. Pei Ji dared not move and heard her voice: "How old are you this year?"
He bit his lower lip.
The boy's voice was tender and clear, carrying a hoarseness that didn't match his age, timidly echoing in his ears, almost too low to hear clearly: "Six... or seven."
