The Weight of Silence

Zhuang Xun kept her head bowed, but her gaze flickered toward Shen Xian from the corner of her eye. Shen Xian’s face was utterly devoid of emotion, a sight that sent a ripple of unease through Zhuang Xun’s heart.

She had witnessed Shen Xian’s playful pouts, her flashes of anger, and countless other expressions. Yet, this particular look—a chilling, “do not approach” aura—was entirely new to her.

Zhuang Xun had braced herself for Shen Xian’s fury, expecting a sharp reprimand. Instead, none of her anticipated scenarios materialized. Shen Xian simply offered quiet, physical support, guiding her step by careful step toward the infirmary.

The atmosphere was suffocating.

Even a single word from her senior, be it a scolding or a sigh, would have been a relief. She found herself unable to endure the oppressive silence that seemed to solidify around them like ice. Yet, even after they arrived at the infirmary and bandages were applied to the cuts on her face, Shen Xian remained silent.

Just as Zhuang Xun gathered the courage to speak, Shen Xian turned her back and walked toward the door. Then, a resounding bang echoed as the door shut behind her.

In the sudden, profound silence, where even a pin drop would have been deafening, Zhuang Xun felt a surge of raw fear. Involuntarily, her head bowed, her vision blurred, and her mind began to spin.

Was her senior going to abandon her? Was she so disappointed that she’d sought out Ning Qi? Was she angry that Zhuang Xun had kept it a secret?

Am I being discarded?

They weren’t even in that kind of relationship—could this truly be considered abandonment?

No! Senior couldn’t! I can’t be without her… I can’t.

“Little Zhuang Xun? Little Zhuang Xun!”

Zhuang Xun snapped back to reality, her eyes meeting Shen Xian’s worried gaze. Her own ragged, hyperventilating breaths filled her ears, their rhythm completely distorted. In the next instant, her face was cupped by warm hands, and the comforting heat of another’s forehead pressed against hers.

Shen Xian’s soft voice drifted into her ears, acting as a potent sedative. “Little Zhuang Xun, deep breaths. It’s alright. Just breathe with me.”

Several minutes later, Zhuang Xun’s breathing finally returned to normal. Shen Xian’s posture shifted from pressing her forehead against Zhuang Xun’s to pulling her into a full embrace. Buried against Shen Xian’s chest, Zhuang Xun listened to the rhythmic thumping of her senior’s heart.

It seems… a little too fast.

Zhuang Xun’s fingers twitched. She wanted to hug her back. She wanted to hold her senior tightly, wrap her arms around her waist, bury her face in her chest, and breathe in her clean scent forever. But before Zhuang Xun could even raise her arms, Shen Xian pulled back first, speaking softly.

“Little Zhuang Xun, are you feeling better now?”

The warmth vanished from Zhuang Xun’s arms. She paused, momentarily stunned, then looked up and nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry… for making you worry, Senior.” Zhuang Xun raised a hand, intending to rub the back of her head, but Shen Xian quickly caught her wrist.

As Zhuang Xun watched with wide eyes, Shen Xian’s voice took on a slightly chiding tone. “I recall telling you not to do this kind of thing again.”

Shen Xian’s words made Zhuang Xun’s gaze follow the hand holding her wrist down to her own palms.

Had I been picking at them again?

Fresh scratches covered both of her hands. Her fair skin was flushed red, and some of the deeper marks had already begun to seep blood. Zhuang Xun lacked the courage to meet Shen Xian’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, Senior.”

Shen Xian sighed deeply. “Why do you always apologize to me for things like this?”

“I’m sorry.” Zhuang Xun repeated, her voice small. She had tried to stop, but the habit was a reflex of her anxiety. Beyond apologizing, she didn’t know what else to say. What if I say the wrong thing and she truly leaves?

“So, what was the reason for picking at your hands this time?” Shen Xian skillfully retrieved a bottle of iodine from a nearby medical kit, gently cleaning Zhuang Xun’s hands. As she wiped, she lamented, “Such beautiful hands… why are they always so scarred?”

Zhuang Xun’s hands were held firmly. She could have pulled away, but she didn’t want to risk hurting Shen Xian.

“Was it because I walked out? Did that scare you?” Before Zhuang Xun could answer, Shen Xian continued, almost as if she were talking to herself.

“I…”

Shen Xian sat on a chair, looking up at Zhuang Xun with an earnest gaze, as if trying to peer through her skin into her very soul. Staring into those eyes, Zhuang Xun swallowed every lie she had prepared. She met Shen Xian’s gaze, enunciating each word with painful honesty.

“Because you were clearly angry, Senior, but you didn’t speak a single word to me on the way here. I thought you were disappointed in me.”

Shen Xian leaned in. “Only because of that?”

“…” Zhuang Xun shook her head. “And because you left just now. I was… very scared.”

“Scared that I would abandon you?” Shen Xian cut straight to the heart of it.

Zhuang Xun’s hands trembled, but she suppressed the emotion. “Yes. I apologize… I heard things from someone else. You’ve never had a team member before, Senior, and I don’t want to be the one you regret taking on.”

“Ah, that.” Shen Xian’s finger lightly traced the lines of Zhuang Xun’s palm. A ticklish sensation spread through her skin, compelling Zhuang Xun to maintain eye contact.

Shen Xian’s face finally held a gentle smile. “Little Zhuang Xun, if you were to disappoint me, do you think I would just remove you from the team?”

Zhuang Xun shook her head. The senior she knew wouldn’t be so heartless. She knew that logically, yet the unease was a parasite that wouldn’t let go.

“If that’s the case, why are you still afraid?” Shen Xian’s hand gently stroked Zhuang Xun’s injured fingertips. “Do you remember what I told you?”

Zhuang Xun paused, dazed.

Shen Xian continued, quoting herself, “Zhuang Xun, I won’t dislike you. Never.”

Those were the words Shen Xian had spoken just a few days ago.

“It seems I need to add a few more clauses to that. How about: I won’t let you feel scared again? Or perhaps: I will never remove you from the team?” Shen Xian’s hand moved to Zhuang Xun’s neck, the scent of antiseptic wafting between them.

“Senior, please don’t…” Even though she knew she was being teased, Zhuang Xun’s protest was weak.

“Don’t what?” Shen Xian’s hand gently wiped a small graze on Zhuang Xun’s neck, treating her as if she were made of glass.

Zhuang Xun’s ears flushed crimson. “Senior… I can do it myself.”

“This isn’t iodine; it’s a different ointment. Both your hands are covered in iodine right now, so you’ll just make a mess. You can’t do this yourself.”

Shen Xian’s words were perfectly logical, making Zhuang Xun suspect that her senior had intentionally colored her hands first to make her helpless. However, the moment she looked at Shen Xian’s face, she dismissed the thought. Shen Xian was too sincere for such a devious trick.

“Hiss…” Zhuang Xun felt a cold sensation at her waist and winced.

“Little Zhuang Xun, are you injured here, too?” Shen Xian pulled at the hem of her shirt, her brows furrowing.

Shen Xian stood up, the movement forcing Zhuang Xun back onto the infirmary bed. Lying there, Zhuang Xun quickly grabbed the other corner of her shirt. “Senior, I’m not injured there. My clothes are just a bit torn!”

Shen Xian looked skeptical. “If you’re not injured, take your hand away and let me see.”

Zhuang Xun tightened her grip. That particular spot had taken a direct, heavy blow from Ning Qi’s shovel at the very start of the duel. She knew it must be a dark, ugly bruise.

“If you don’t let go, I’ll have to do this,” Shen Xian warned.

Before Zhuang Xun could react, a sharp rip echoed through the room.