Several long strides saw Feng Jianyu catch up to the other cultivator, and Jianyu again took Jinhai’s elbow, helping to guide the sightless swordsman through the familiar halls and walkways. Steps bridging different levels and the thresholds of rooms that had once not needed a single thought to navigate had suddenly become a labyrinth of hazards to the newly blind Zhou Jinhai. A fact Feng Jianyu had been shocked by the first time Jinhai had left his room after waking from his coma. It still pained Jianyu, seeing the powerful swordsman struggling with such simple tasks as navigating their home, but he had made no comment, only settling one hand at Zhou Jinhai’s elbow to aid as required. Both men had ignored the point of contact between them at the time, to save face. Weakness was not typically something a person had to be concerned with once they started cultivating and the fact that Zhou Jinhai was laid low by something so mundane as stairs was almost too much for even the once even tempered youth. 

It took far too long to navigate to Zhou Jinhai’s residence, but finally Feng Jianyu released the other man after guiding him over his own threshold, moving to close the sliding doors behind them. When he turned around, it was as if his friend wasn’t even aware however, for he stood where he had been left. A ghost in white, the red stains slowly drying to rusty brown. Silently releasing a breath, Feng Jianyu walked back to stand beside the other man. 

“You need to eat, and rest. The investigation will be on-going for some time before they have any solid leads for us to follow. I’ll order a bath for you.” Feng Jianyu wanted to check Zhou Jinhai for any wounds, as ludicrous as such a suggestion would have been before the recent tragedy. There was just so much blood, some of it could be Zhou Jinhai’s own. After all, despite how skilled he had been, he was now blind. How could he fight at the same level and with such ease as he once had? 

Upon receiving no reply, he gently eased Qiuyue’s scabbard from Zhou Jinhai’s fingers, setting it down to one side. Re-taking the man’s elbow he led him deeper into the residence, guiding Zhou Jinhai up the step that led to a secluded raised area behind a screen where a large wooden tub sat in one corner, waiting to be filled. 

“Wait here a moment.” Feng Jianyu ordered, before leaving Zhou Jinhai’s side and walking back out of the pavilion, calling for any of the younger students as he went. Within a few minutes several young boys came running in bearing large buckets of steaming hot water, Feng Jianyu followed them in before standing to the side beside a still-silent Zhou Jinhai as he kept an eagle-eye on the sect’s youngest members. They were paid for menial labour tasks such as carrying water so all of them rushed back and forward with youthful vigor. Competing with each other to see who could earn the most taels for this easy task. 

Once the tub was full and the door closed behind the last green-clad youth, Feng Jianyu left Zhou Jinhai’s side once again to walk to the tub, pulling a qiankun pouch from his belt. From the spatial treasure he withdrew several bundles of dried herbs and flower petals, scattering them onto the steaming water. Instantly the medicinal mix turned the steam rising from the water a deep purple hue and the room was filled with a rich, earthy scent. Turning back to Zhou Jinhai, Feng Jianyu hesitated for the first time. Zhou Jinhai would never have accepted someone’s help to bathe before, being a deeply private person by nature. But ever since he had awoken from his coma, it was like he was only partially aware of the world around him, beyond the loss of his sight. It was as if his spirit had also been damaged. 

Jaw tightening with determination, Feng Jianyu walked back to the other man. Moving behind the statue-still cultivator he reached up and started to unpick the knot that held the blindfold in place. When Zhou Jinhai didn’t protest, he released the tight breath he’d been holding and let the strip of cloth fall away. In silence, he slowly undressed his injured friend, having to peel the cloth layers apart where the blood had seeped through and dried in place. First the wide belt that was wrapped tightly about the man’s slim waist was loosened and slid free, taking with it his qiankun pouch, jinbu tassel and sect seal. These were laid on a table nearby, the stained belt wrapping set to one side, destined to be discarded. Then the once-white outer robe with it’s wide bell-like sleeves was slid from lean shoulders and dropped atop the cloth belt. Next Feng Jinayu released the ties holding Zhou Jinhai’s inner-robe in place. The garment swiftly followed the first, leaving Jinhai in only his long white silk shirt and thin silk trousers. Seeing his sect brother in what amounted to his underwear made something twist inside Jianyu. Hesitating only briefly he ignored the sensation and tugged the tie at Jinhai’s waist free. As the pale cloth suddenly loosened and fell open, Feng Jianyu’s fingers stilled as an uncomfortable lurch hitched in his chest. 

Zhou Jinhai stood passively, face downturned as if in meditation. His hair had been left unbound and cascaded about his shoulders. The dark tresses framing the pale jade-white of his bare skin where the white silk robe gaped wide, revealing a long strip of his lightly muscled physique. Only the thin silk of his trousers protected his modesty. And despite the blood and gore still in evidence on his loose sleeves and hem, he was painfully beautiful. Thick dark lashes rested against pale cheeks. Black hair perfectly framed his elegant features. He truly looked like an Immortal from the Heaven Realm, posed as if in contemplation.

Feeling heat rise in his cheeks, Feng Jinayu scowled at the sensation taking up residence in his chest. He had always admired Zhou Jinhai, such had long been known to him. After all, the man’s skill with a blade was unsurpassed in the sect, his manner was refined and he was dedicated to his training. All things Joanyu could easily admire. He had also been aware that his fellow swordsman was extraordinarily handsome. Hard not to when every time they went down to the village at the base of their mountain, Zhou Jinhai was the one swarmed by mortals for his beauty. 

Maybe it was because Liu Li-Tai had always had his eye on their companion from before they were even old enough to know what romance was, that Feng Jianyu had never looked at his friend like ‘that’. They were sword siblings, sect brothers and close friends. Such emotions had never been a consideration. But seeing Zhou Jinhai like this… head bowed demurely, eyes closed as if in quiet meditation, his white robes hanging carelessly open to reveal smooth skin as fair as a lotus blossom, thoughts and feelings arose within Feng Jianyu that he was unaccustomed to dealing with. 

Forcing himself out of the strange mental paralysis Zhou Jinhai had inspired within him, Feng Jianyu turned his back on his friend and uncharacteristically fussed with the bloody clothing. “Finish getting undressed and get into the water. I’ll just get rid of these then I’ll help you wash.” Without another word, Feng Jianyu scooped up the bundle of stained cloth and hurried out into the main room, vanishing around the screen so fast it was as if a Fierce Corpse was chasing him.

Once he had called one of the youngest boys over to take the stained cloth for disposal, and spent a few minutes getting his thoughts back under control, he returned inside. Striding through the main room of the residence and into the bathing room as if he hadn’t fled Zhou Jinhai’s presence earlier. As he rounded the screen he was relieved to see Zhou Jinhai already settled in the tub, the thick milky water hiding everything within. Only the man’s shoulders breached the surface, his head bent low. Feng Jianyu picked up a stool from the corner and brought it over to the side of the tub. “Are you injured anywhere?” He asked as he settled down, eyes scanning what little of Zhou Jinhai he could see and examining the water for any traces of fresh blood. 

Zhou Jinhai shook his head, and while Feng Jianyu was pretty sure he wasn’t being truthful, there was little he could do short of yanking the man back out of the tub to inspect his body. Instead he reached over and picked up a strip of cloth, dunking it in the water before starting to clean the dried blood from skin beginning to turn pink from the water’s heat. He ran the cloth over his friend’s back and shoulders, water sluicing over pale skin and washing away the little blood that had dried. It was as he worked his way down one finely muscled arm that the gore grew noticeable. From the elbow down, the cloth took on a decidedly pink hue as Feng Jianyu worked. Frowning, he lifted Zhou JInhai’s hand from the bath, working the cloth between the long, slender fingers. Again he wondered at just how Jinhai had gotten so dirty. As a peerless swordsman it was unprecedented. But then… he had to remember his friend was now blind, which meant the enemies had to be a lot closer for Jinhai to fight. Something lodged in his throat as he pondered this realisation. It was a tight, uncomfortable feeling that irritated him the more he noticed it. Forcing the thoughts from his mind he returned his attention to the man before him, releasing the hand that was now clean and holding his own out, palm up, waiting for Jinhai to offer his other hand before resuming his self-appointed task. 

The air in the room was warm and thick with the scent of the healing herbs. Silence reigned between the two men as Feng Jianyu worked, gradually washing away the remaining blood that had stained Zhou Jinhai’s flesh. He spent time washing the long ebony hair, detangling it with his fingers as he carefully picked bits of flesh and splintered bone from the mass. He had never seen Zhou Jinhai stained by his enemies' remains like this, so to see him thus was… unsettling. It proved how close to the edge his friend was mentally and physically, forcing himself into battle when he was not only still recovering from the assassination attempt and his injuries, but also having to do so blind.

The incense stick was half burned when Zhou Jinhai stirred, a freshly clean hand lifting to his brow as he winced. Feng Jianyu stopped his work and frowned, peering at the other’s face. “What’s wrong?” He asked, voice stern and ready to give his friend yet another lecture on looking after his own health. But his words were stopped when Zhou Jinhai sighed, tipping his head back into Feng Jianyu’s hands. 

“Just a headache from straining my spiritual sense too much.” 

Confused, Feng Jinhai resumed his detangling efforts, though now his fingers were pressing into Zhou Jinhai’s scalp. A moment later he almost jumped when the other man actually moaned. Or at least, it was as close to a moan as Feng Jianyu had ever heard the quiet man emit. 

“Your aura?” It was obvious what he was asking, as Zhou Jinhai nodded, lashes lifting to stare sightlessly at the wall opposite the tub. 

“I’m using my sense to compensate for my sight issues. But it’s… difficult to maintain.” 

Understanding bloomed in Feng Jianyu and he made a low noise of agreement. That also answered one of the questions that had been bothering him since Zhou Jinhai had woken from his coma and started leaving his quarters. Namely, how had the man been walking around at all, even if he did trip over steps and thresholds, and more importantly how he could still fight as well as he did. Given time Feng Jianyu was certain being blind wouldn’t hold his friend back. But this fast? It had been a mystery how Zhou Jinhai had been managing his blindness so well, so soon. Now he knew.

“Well, stop. At least while I’m here. Don’t push yourself while you are still healing.” He scolded, though his fingers didn’t stop massaging Zhou Jinhai’s scalp, seeking to ease the pain there even if it wasn’t really a physical symptom, but a mental one. Zhou Jinhai nodded, not at all fighting Feng Jianyu on the issue as he swept a hand over his face and back over his wet hair, fingers briefly meeting Feng Jianyu’s own as he wiped away droplets of water.

“Thank you.” The soft words were offered into the quiet of the room, rising along with the steam from the bath. Feng Jianyu’s answer was a huff of breath. But neither man needed more to communicate. Zhou Jinhai knew Feng Jianyu would always be there, just as Zhou Jinhai would be there for Feng Jianyu. Their small circle of friends had each other’s backs, always. But beyond even that close camaraderie, the two men had been through too much to ever leave the other in a time of need. From childhood misdeeds to the bloodiest of battlefields. 

Finally Feng Jianyu finished his work and released the thick silky tail of hair, once more clean of gore and shining with health. “I’ll fetch some fresh clothing. Sit and absorb the rest of the medicine. I spent a month’s worth of wages on them this time.” It wasn’t even that much of an exaggeration but Zhou Jinhai’s amused huff of laughter made Feng Jianyu grin, a portion of the weight he had been carrying since the assassination lifting from his mind. It was the first laugh Zhou Jinhai had managed, which made his loss of taels completely worth it, even if there had been no healing benefit. 

Hiding a smile, he stood up and once again left his friend to soak as he went to summon one of the many youngsters roaming the sect’s hallways. Luckily there were still several of the younger students loitering about so he sent one off with the request for fresh robes to the sect’s tailor. He himself went to pick up some food from the kitchen, snagging a jug of peach wine from behind the chef’s back as he did so. With his tray laden down, he returned to Jinhai’s quarters only to find the man dry and dressed, sitting primly at the small table in the main room. His lashes were lowered, hands clasped in his lap. His white mourning robes spread out around him. As Jianyu walked in, he turned his head towards the sound. “Peach wine.” He said softly, but not in question. Feng Jianyu nodded with a grin as he walked over and set the tray down before unloading the dishes onto the table between the two places. Once done he dropped down onto the seat opposite Zhou Jinhai, folding his legs before him as he reached for the jug, pouring a cup and holding it out to his companion.