Li Xun settled Fan Yuan and the group of soldiers in a meditation courtyard to rest.
When Xiao Li arrived, Li Xun said: “The Wengzhu seems to have matters to discuss with Righteous Scholar Xiao. Please go to the meditation chamber in the side hall.”
Xiao Li’s mind was in complete chaos at this moment, and he didn’t know what Wen Yu wanted him for. The soldiers’ earlier words made him feel as if the fangs of the beast in his chest were about to pierce through, the overflowing jealousy and dark thoughts surging straight to his brain. Fortunately, the string called reason still held taut, preventing others from noticing anything too abnormal. Hearing these words now, he merely nodded with slight coldness.
—
Wen Yu was organizing her belongings from these few days of staying at the temple. Hearing a knock at the meditation chamber door, she calmly said: “Come in.”
Xiao Li pushed the door open and saw her sorting through sutras on the bookshelf. The wide sleeves of her golden-orange spring robe had slipped down to her elbows as she raised her arms to retrieve books, revealing half of her snow-jade-like arms.
Her brows and eyes were lowered as she focused on examining the sutra in her hands. In an empty space on the shelf beside her sat a pot of udumbara flowers, their drooping branches blooming with white blossoms that, in this dimly lit chamber, made her seem even more like a figure from a painting.
Xiao Li looked only once before withdrawing his gaze amid the clamor of his heartbeat. As if momentarily uncertain how to address her, he only said: “You wanted to see me?”
His voice, on first hearing, was low and calm.
Wen Yu raised her eyes to look at him. Seeing his slightly cold expression as he kept his eyelids half-lowered, avoiding meeting her gaze, she frowned slightly and asked: “Are you still resenting me for making decisions on your behalf without permission?”
Xiao Li said: “No.”
Wen Yu raised her hand to return the sutra to the bookshelf. Her arms, held high in that position, caused the sleeves to slip down even further. The entire Buddhist temple was built against the mountain, and this meditation chamber in the side hall, to preserve more of its meditative atmosphere, had one entire wall of exposed cliff face. The bookshelf was placed in this shadowy corner against the stone wall, and Wen Yu could no longer clearly see the writing on the higher stored books.
She still had many books beside her that hadn’t been returned to their places, so she said to Xiao Li: “Fetch me a lamp.”
Xiao Li surveyed the room, took a copper lamp from the table, lit it with a fire starter, and carried it to the bookcase.
He stood behind Wen Yu at a distance of one step. This close, his nose caught a faint scent of sandalwood ash incense—she must have picked it up in the Buddha hall—along with an indescribable cold fragrance, like a pool of clear water in a lotus pond beneath the moon. Light yet extremely pleasant, he couldn’t tell if it was Wen Yu’s own scent or the fragrance of the udumbara flowers nearby.
By the dim yellow glow of the oil lamp, Wen Yu returned the borrowed books to their original places one by one, calmly explaining to the person holding the lamp behind her: “Having you accompany General Fan on this mission to seize that official silver—after arriving in Ping Province, you’ll have merit to your name and can quickly establish a firm foothold there. Should you enter Ping Province’s military camp in the future, you’ll also have developed a friendship with General Fan, who can help support you in all matters.”
She paused slightly here, turning her eyes toward the person behind her. Her usually gentle and composed eyes, due to the rouge makeup blurred at the corners, took on an upturned quality—a kind of cool, unconscious, bewitching disdain: “Do you understand?”
Xiao Li felt heated by the glow from the oil lamp in his hands, or perhaps the space was too narrow, and that indistinct, faint fragrance kept drilling into his nostrils. His palms gradually seeped with fine beads of sweat.
When he met Wen Yu’s gaze again, he felt as if a hook had caught precisely on the tender, tingling strings of his heart. The sweat in his palms intensified. His five fingers gripping the copper lamp handle loosened slightly, then tightened again. Under Wen Yu’s gaze, he barely maintained his cold expression and nodded.
Wen Yu turned her head back and continued placing books, saying: “Matters involving power make many things complicated. Loyalty is precious, but loyalty alone cannot gather sufficiently powerful forces, hence the way of checks and balances. Initially, I didn’t want you to wade into these murky waters, only wishing that after finding the old subordinates, I could grant you an estate where you could live out your remaining years in peace. But times have already become so difficult. The former royal nobility still have lives as cheap as grass in this chaos—what more of common people? When the realm is unsettled, nowhere can remain forever untouched by the flames of war.”
Her eyes dimmed slightly as she recalled the scenes of desolation she’d witnessed along this journey. She said: “The path you take should be your own choice…”
The sutra in her hand needed to go on the topmost shelf. When Wen Yu raised her hand to place it, she could only rest a small corner of the book on the shelf, with most of her snow-white arm exposed beneath the wide sleeve.
Realizing this was improper, she was about to withdraw her hand when the person behind her stepped forward. A long arm reached up, the slightly rough fabric of his narrow sleeve brushing against her arm’s skin. His well-defined fingers touched the book’s spine, pushing the sutra into the bookshelf.
Wen Yu’s arm shivered from the touch of that fabric. After this sudden development, she instinctively turned around, only to discover the person behind her still hadn’t stepped back. His tall form was like an iron wall, trapping her between his chest and this bookcase pressed against the stone cliff.
Wind blowing in from the window extinguished the copper lamp in his hands. The meditation chamber plunged into darkness in that instant.
Her heart jumped, and she finally sensed something was wrong.
No one spoke in the dimness—it was more like a silent standoff. The ambiguity breeding in their faltering breaths spread and sprawled in this silence.
His breathing was heavy. Merely breathing the same air as him in this narrow space, Wen Yu slowly felt that warmth too.
One hand still braced against the shelf behind her, that feeling of being caged and watched by a wild beast made her instinctively sense danger. Her entire body couldn’t help but lean backward, but her snow-white neck, exposed with strands of hair clinging to it, inadvertently brushed past a white udumbara blossom. The coolness of the petals made her tilt her neck slightly, shivering uncontrollably.
In the darkness, Wen Yu couldn’t clearly see Xiao Li’s expression. He kept his eyes lowered, yet took in every minute expression on her flower-like face.
His gaze swept over her cherry-red lips, slightly parted in surprise, falling to her neck—trembling faintly with her breathing, its skin color so pale it was nearly transparent. In his dark eyes, magma seemed to roil and burn. Sweat beaded on his nose. He gripped the handle of the solid brass Buddha lamp so hard it deformed before finding a few remnants of reason, saying: “I naturally know what path I should take.”
Then he stepped back.
All that intangible oppression and stifling atmosphere receded in that instant. Wen Yu only felt her breathing become much smoother.
She remained leaning against the bookcase, long lashes lowered without looking at him. As if she too didn’t understand how they’d suddenly fallen into such a strange atmosphere, she calmed her breathing slightly before saying: “That’s good then. I have no other matters here. You may go.”
Before Xiao Li could move, a young novice monk’s voice came from outside the courtyard: “Female benefactor, are you there? The abbot heard the benefactor is descending the mountain and has prepared a small gift.”
Wen Yu glanced outside, responded “I’m here,” and used the excuse to leave first.
Xiao Li listened to the conversation outside, raised his eyes to look at the white udumbara that had brushed Wen Yu’s neck, reached out to pluck it, crushed it and put it in his mouth to swallow, then supported himself on the back window and flipped out.
When Wen Yu returned to the room with the gift from Bodhi Temple’s abbot, she saw no one inside, only the back window wide open.
She breathed slightly easier, set down the abbot’s gift, lightly pressed her brow and looked again toward the bookcase. What began as a casual glance revealed that one udumbara blossom had been broken off, its bare thin vine hanging there conspicuously.
Wen Yu froze. After realizing something, whether from suppressed anger or some other emotion, her cheeks suddenly burned faintly.
Then her brow furrowed even tighter, seized by a deeper panic and worry.
Xiao Li’s feelings toward her were like that broken udumbara branch—the traces were now glaringly obvious.
He… couldn’t be allowed to like her.
Even if he did, he must bury it deep in his heart.
Throughout this southward journey, except for that night in the cave, he’d always suppressed these feelings very well. What happened now?
Wen Yu raised her hand to press against her temple.
They were about to enter Ping Province. If he acted like this and someone noticed the signs, it would only bring calamity upon himself.
The former ministers of Great Liang could never tolerate him harboring even the slightest improper thoughts toward her.
Though her alliance marriage with Southern Chen was merely one of mutual benefit, if the Chen King learned of this, he would certainly not spare Xiao Li’s life either.
This was one of the reasons she’d previously hoped Xiao Li would just stay in Ping Province.
If he remained in Ping Province, perhaps with time he’d forget her and begin his own life.
But if he accompanied her to Southern Chen—dangers aside—she couldn’t reciprocate even half of his feelings and would only delay him.
Wen Yu considered briefly, lowering her eyes to the wooden carp pendant still inappropriately hanging at her waist, and untied it.
Perhaps during their flight, the days when they’d depended on each other for survival had lasted too long. They’d both blurred many boundaries, leading to the current situation.
But everything must return to its proper track.
Sometimes her soft-heartedness only harmed him.
—
During the two days traveling to Ping Province’s main city, Wen Yu never summoned Xiao Li again. For all matters, she called Li Xun to consult, then had Li Xun instruct others.
Others hadn’t yet detected this subtle distancing, but Xiao Li had clearly felt it.
He thought she was angry about his transgression at the temple, and knowing he’d been somewhat impulsive then, he silently accepted her arrangements.
The troops they’d conscripted from refugees numbered nearly five hundred. Earlier, when leading this group to raid the Tong City magistrate, Zhao Youcai and his men had thought he’d found a new master. Learning he’d latched onto Ping Province’s coattails—much wealthier than Tong City—they, who’d enlisted merely to make a living, followed him without a second word.
On the road, encountering pursuers and experiencing several battles, some fled, but those who remained had all witnessed Xiao Li’s martial skills and looked to him as their leader.
Though Wen Yu had Fan Yuan manage all the troops, Fan Yuan knew his place, only teaching them military management systems, never overstepping to interfere.
Along this journey, Xiao Li had essentially tamed this batch of refugee recruits.
Zhao Youcai had a glib tongue and was clever. While fraternizing with Ping Province’s regular soldiers, he occasionally extracted information about Ping Province’s military camps and the general situation within Ping Province City, then turned around and fawningly reported it all to Xiao Li’s ear to claim credit.
After organizing this information, Xiao Li learned that even within Ping Province City undercurrents surged. He thought that though Wen Yu was annoyed and unwilling to deal with him, he could seek her out to discuss these legitimate matters and proactively ease their relationship.
Since Li Xun, Fan Yuan, and the others traveling with them had all identified him as Wen Yu’s confidant, when he approached Wen Yu’s carriage, even though Li Xun was still beside it, speaking to Wen Yu with bowed head, surprisingly no one stopped him.
Li Xun’s words—”The envoys from Southern Chen coming to escort the bride are already on the road and should arrive in Ping Province within days”—fell directly into Xiao Li’s ears.