On the twenty-seventh day of the first lunar month, Jiang Ci stood beneath the corridor, gazing up at the melting snow dripping from the eaves. She watched as the water mixed with the thawing snow in the courtyard, flowing into the ditches and towards the small culvert beside the gate. A faint smile graced her face.
The harsh winter had finally passed. The ice and snow were melting away, and spring had at last arrived.
Outside “Snow Plum Courtyard,” children from the mountain enclosure played and chased each other, their laughter carried by the wind into the courtyard. Jiang Ci felt a tinge of longing. Dan Xue emerged from the house and, noticing her expression, smiled and said, “Why don’t we go out and play too?”
In recent days, Wei Zhao had been visiting every night to talk with Jiang Ci. They would occasionally drink together, but most of the time, Jiang Ci would speak while Wei Zhao listened. Jiang Ci didn’t understand why Wei Zhao was so interested in her life at the Deng Family Village, but she racked her brains to recount the details of her seventeen years there.
It seemed Wei Zhao had given orders to relax the surveillance on her. She was now allowed to leave “Snow Plum Courtyard” and wander within Shanhai Valley, though always accompanied by Dan Xue and Mei Ying.
Wei Zhao had noticed Jiang Ci’s close bond with Dan Xue and Mei Ying. He declared that if Jiang Ci were to escape, he would have Dan Xue and Mei Ying executed. Knowing he had grasped her soft spot, Jiang Ci abandoned any thoughts of fleeing.
Since Wei Zhao no longer confined her like a prisoner, the Yueluo people of Shanhai Valley became very warm towards Jiang Ci. They were grateful for her risking her life to save the Yueluo clan and greeted her with smiles. Fruits and games were constantly sent to “Snow Plum Courtyard,” and young men would occasionally ask Dan Xue or Mei Ying to deliver a red flower to Jiang Ci, much to her amusement and embarrassment.
The three women left the courtyard and saw a group of young children playing a stone-throwing game near a small grove. They tied red silk ribbons to stones and threw them forcefully upwards, trying to see whose ribbon could hang the highest on the tree branches. Whoever succeeded would be the winner.
Jiang Ci had never seen this game before. Her childlike spirit awakened, and she took a ribbon from one of the children, tied it to a stone, and threw it towards the tree with all her might. Just as the red silk was about to drape over a branch, the weight of the stone pulled it down, and it fell to the ground.
Laughing, she picked up the ribbon and tried again, but still failed. As she was about to throw for the third time, she noticed Dan Xue winking at her. Confused, Jiang Ci saw her gesture with her chin. She turned around to see Hong Jie, the young man who had given her a red flower that night, approaching with a shy expression. Flustered, Jiang Ci quickly hid behind Dan Xue and Mei Ying.
Hong Jie’s interest in Miss Jiang had already spread throughout Shanhai Valley. Seeing him approach, the children swarmed around him, giggling mischievously. Some even pushed him forward, shouting, “Go and carry your bride home!”
Jiang Ci knew the Yueluo people were simple and unrestrained in their customs, but even she couldn’t bear such teasing. She retreated step by step towards Snow Plum Courtyard, hiding behind Dan Xue and Mei Ying, clutching their clothes.
Hong Jie had endured for ten days. Each day, that beautiful face had grown deeper in his heart, making him restless. Today, he finally mustered the courage to come to Snow Plum Courtyard. Ignoring the teasing of the crowd, he prepared to offer Jiang Ci another red flower. Seeing her hide behind Dan Xue and Mei Ying, unwilling to come out, he became anxious and strode forward.
Jiang Ci peeked out and saw Hong Jie’s flushed face and startlingly bright eyes. Frightened, she let out an “Ah!” and turned to run. After about ten steps, she collided with someone.
Her forehead hit the person’s chin, and she cried out in pain. Rubbing her forehead, she saw Wei Zhao standing before her, hands clasped behind his back. With one sharp glance from him, the children scattered to a distance, and Hong Jie stopped in his tracks.
Jiang Ci felt as if she had found a savior. She breathed a sigh of relief and put on a smile, saying to Wei Zhao, “Holy Sect Leader, you’re here. I was just looking for you about something.” She grabbed the sleeve of Wei Zhao’s robe and walked towards Snow Plum Courtyard.
Wei Zhao allowed her to pull him along, following her into Snow Plum Courtyard.
Hong Jie stood motionless, looking at the red flower in his hand, utterly disappointed. Dan Xue saw his pitiful state and felt a bit sorry for him. She said softly, “Give it to me. I’ll help you give it to her.”
Jiang Ci closed the courtyard gate forcefully, saying, “That was close!”
She turned around and met Wei Zhao’s gaze. Seeing herself reflected like two tiny crystal figures in his deep, shining black eyes, she felt somewhat embarrassed, and her cheeks flushed slightly.
The corner of Wei Zhao’s mouth curled up slightly. “Didn’t you say you had something to discuss with me? What is it? This Sect Leader is listening.”
Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Jiang Ci darted into the stone house and shut the latticed door firmly.
Wei Zhao opened the door and entered. Jiang Ci felt even more awkward. In her urgency, she noticed some unwashed clothes in the room. She hurriedly gathered them up and took them to the wooden tub in the courtyard. She drew water from the well and began washing vigorously.
Wei Zhao leaned against a wooden pillar in the corridor, silently watching her wash the clothes, wring them out forcefully, and hang them on the bamboo poles in the courtyard, not saying a word.
After hanging the clothes, Jiang Ci turned around and saw Wei Zhao still in the corridor. She put on a smile and said, “Third Young Master seems quite free today.”
Wei Zhao said flatly, “With so many people thinking about you, it seems you can’t stay in this Shanhai Valley anymore.”
Jiang Ci’s heart skipped a beat, not knowing what he was planning this time. She calmly looked at him and said, “Anyway, I can’t escape Third Young Master’s grasp. Whatever you say goes!”
Wei Zhao looked towards the clear blue sky. “Let’s go. The people outside should have dispersed by now.”
Jiang Ci followed behind him, repeatedly asking, “Where are we going?”
Wei Zhao didn’t answer, leading her straight to the main enclosure. Uncle Ping was already waiting there with horses. Wei Zhao mounted his horse, and Jiang Ci quickly got on another. Wei Zhao raised his whip with a light shout, and the stallions kicked up a trail of dust. By the time Dan Xue and Mei Ying came running, the three riders had already disappeared into the distance.
Jiang Ci followed Wei Zhao, galloping at full speed, with the early spring scenery of the mountains flashing by.
In the distance, some thin snow still hadn’t completely melted on the mountain peaks, but the small trees on the slopes and at the foot of the mountains had already sprouted tender buds. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of early spring, and children played and frolicked in the wilderness. Occasionally, a clear mountain song would ring out.
All of this reminded her of the distant Deng Family Village. These scenes were so familiar, having accompanied her growth since her earliest memories. She found herself lingering on this scenery, and her horse’s pace slowed down.
Wei Zhao had ridden far ahead but turned back, reining in his horse about ten steps in front of Jiang Ci. “Why are you dawdling? Don’t delay my schedule!”
Jiang Ci didn’t answer, lowering her head. Wei Zhao noticed what seemed to be tears at the corners of her eyes and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Ci thought of the small courtyard in Deng Family Village, the chicken coop, the rabbit hutch, the large banyan tree in front of the door, the orange tree she had planted last year, and the cloud lotus flower seeds she had sown. She felt increasingly sorrowful. Holding back her tears, she let out a light cry and spurred her horse past Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao caught up, whipping his horse. Some Yueluo clansmen by the road recognized him and bowed in greeting, but he ignored them. He stared at Jiang Ci for a while, then said with a mocking smile, “Homesick?”
Jiang Ci nodded, her thoughts guessed correctly. Feeling it was utterly embarrassing to cry in front of him, she turned her head away.
Wei Zhao laughed, “Who told you to be so playful, not knowing your limits, wandering alone in the jianghu, and even daring to go to Changfeng Manor to watch the excitement!”
Jiang Ci felt annoyed and turned back to glare at him, “It’s all because of you! If you hadn’t used me as a shield, I wouldn’t have to suffer all this!”
Wei Zhao glanced sideways at Jiang Ci, “Who told you to climb that tree? I arrived there before you. You trespassed into my forbidden area, you can’t blame me!”
Remembering all the hardships and pain she had endured over the past half year because of this man, hatred welled up in Jiang Ci. Without much thought, she pulled her right foot from the stirrup and kicked towards Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao chuckled, catching her right foot and applying pressure to his palm. Jiang Ci cried out “Ah!” and fell backward. Her startled mount bolted forward, and Jiang Ci swayed left and right, barely managing to stay on the horse’s back.
Wei Zhao followed on his horse. Seeing they had reached a mountain hollow, he looked around and nodded slightly. He spurred his horse next to Jiang Ci’s.
Noticing Jiang Ci still struggling to rein in her startled mount, Wei Zhao reached out and lifted her onto his horse in front of him. “Hold on tight!” he said, squeezing the horse’s flanks. As the steed galloped forward, Jiang Ci was jostled backward into his embrace.
Wei Zhao’s left arm instinctively wrapped around her. The waist in his arm was light and soft. As he lowered his head, he caught sight of her fair neck and delicate earlobe. His chest suddenly tightened, and that frightening feeling surged up again, making him want to throw the person in front of him far away. But as the horse galloped on, his hand never loosened its grip even slightly.
Jiang Ci had been held by him several times before, thrown here and there. Now, with the horse jolting and her mind focused on not being thrown off, she nestled in Wei Zhao’s embrace, not daring to move. She didn’t notice that Wei Zhao’s left arm had been holding her the entire time.
After Wei Zhao and Jiang Ci disappeared around the bend of the mountain hollow, a whistle sounded from the forest. The white horse Jiang Ci had been riding earlier neighed loudly and galloped into the woods.
Su Yan caught the horse’s reins and turned back to smile at Su Jun, “Big Brother, it’s your turn now.”
Su Jun, dressed in white robes, smiled and pulled off the black veil covering his face. He put on a human skin mask, let his long hair fall loose, and clasped his hands behind his back. He took a few steps and suddenly changed his tone, “Everyone, disperse.”
Su Yan nodded, “It’s very similar, but I feel like something’s missing.”
Su Jun turned back, “What’s missing?”
Su Yan pondered for a moment, holding his chin, “Presence. Big Brother, you still need to learn more of the Sect Leader’s aura.”
Su Jun seemed lost in thought and sighed lightly, “Let’s go. The Sect Leader’s aura isn’t something that can be learned overnight. I’ll just try to speak as little as possible.”
As night was falling, Wei Zhao finally reined in his horse at the entrance of a valley. Uncle Ping dismounted and turned to see Wei Zhao still holding Jiang Ci. He was slightly stunned for a moment before coming to his senses and taking the reins of Wei Zhao’s horse.
Wei Zhao let go of the reins and dismounted. Jiang Ci quickly jumped down as well. Several people emerged from the valley and prostrated themselves, “Greetings to the Holy Sect Leader!”
Seeing these people all wearing plain-colored robes with star and moon patterns embroidered on the hems, Jiang Ci realized they had arrived at “Star Moon Valley.”
At this time, it was neither completely dark nor light. A thin layer of sunlight still lingered in the western sky. Inside Star Moon Valley, the tree shadows were still, and wherever they passed, the sect members all prostrated themselves, none daring to raise their heads to look at the white figure.
Jiang Ci followed Wei Zhao along the spotless blue brick corridor and into the main hall. Seeing the high purple sandalwood chair, she smiled, “So that day we arrived at Star Moon Valley? Is this the holy temple of your Star Moon Sect? Why did you use the secret passage that day?”
Wei Zhao glanced at her sideways. Jiang Ci knew his temperament was cold and that he found her talkative, so she asked no more.
Uncle Ping entered and bowed, saying, “Young Master, everything is prepared. Do you want to—”
Wei Zhao sat on the purple sandalwood chair without a word. After a long while, he finally said, “Let’s wait until the Hour of the Boar.”
Uncle Ping sighed and retreated from the hall.
As the moon rose high in the sky, the gauze-like moonlight bathed Star Moon Valley in the fragrance of grass and leaves.
Jiang Ci followed Wei Zhao along the bluestone path toward the depths of Star Moon Valley. Wei Zhao walked slowly, his white robe in the moonlight appearing even more solitary and cold. Jiang Ci didn’t know where he was taking her, so she could only follow quietly.
The valley gradually narrowed into a stone crevice. Uncle Ping led the way with a torch. The three passed through the crevice, turned right, and walked for over a hundred paces before stopping in front of two stone graves.
Uncle Ping put down the bamboo basket he was carrying and took out offerings, arranging them one by one. He lit incense and candles, but the chilly wind in the valley blew them out several times.
Seeing Uncle Ping about to light the candles again, Wei Zhao removed his mask and said flatly, “Forget it, Uncle Ping. I don’t like the smell of candles, and neither does my sister.”
Jiang Ci examined the tombstones of the two stone graves closely. She saw that the left stone tablet was inscribed with “Tomb of Late Father, Lord Xiao Yida,” and the right one with “Tomb of Elder Sister Xiao Yujia.” She thought to herself: It seems these are the graves of his father and sister. What about his mother? Is she alive or dead?
Wei Zhao didn’t bow, but sat in front of the stone graves and took out a bamboo flute. The flute’s sound started like a fine thread, gradually turning sorrowful, piercing the night sky and soaring into the clouds.
As the flute’s melody faded, Wei Zhao gazed at the stone graves for a long time. His usually cold eyes softened as if about to shed tears. Jiang Ci watched clearly from the side, her heart slightly shaken.
After an unknown amount of time passed, Uncle Ping stepped forward and said softly, “Young Master, the night is deep and the wind is chilly. You’ve paid your respects, let’s go back.”
Wei Zhao remained silent for a long while before shaking his head, “I want to sit here for a while. Uncle Ping, take her back first.”
Uncle Ping tugged at Jiang Ci. She walked a few steps, then turned back to see the white figure sitting alone in front of the graves. Her heart surged with emotion, and she blurted out, “I’ll stay here with him.”
Uncle Ping looked somewhat troubled. Suddenly, Wei Zhao said, “Let her stay. Uncle Ping, you go back first.”
The early spring night wind carried a hint of chill. Jiang Ci sat down beside Wei Zhao, looking sideways at his profile, which seemed as if carved from stone. For a moment, she couldn’t find any words of comfort.
“Today is the death anniversary of my sister. She… died under my master’s sword—”
After a long silence, Wei Zhao slowly spoke, his voice as ethereal as a dream. Jiang Ci looked at his half-closed eyes, feeling a pang in her heart.
She carefully pondered Wei Zhao’s words. Although she didn’t understand why his sister had died by his master’s sword, she knew the past events were full of pain. Feeling sympathetic, she said gently, “Third Young Master, my master once told me that a person’s life and death, wealth and poverty, are all predestined. If your sister couldn’t accompany you in this life, that was also fated. You shouldn’t be too sad. Perhaps in the next life, she will be able to stay by your side and never leave again.”
Wei Zhao looked up at the cold crescent moon in the night sky and said softly, “In this world, besides Uncle Ping, you are the only one who knows my identity. You’ve seen it too, for my Yueluo clan to no longer be enslaved by the Huan and Hua countries, we have no choice but to sacrifice our people and fight a bloody struggle. It’s for this reason that my sister died under my master’s sword, and I also—”
Jiang Ci heard his voice getting lower and lower. The surrounding air seemed to be frozen by his words, so heavy that it was hard to breathe. She couldn’t help but lower her head.
After a long time without hearing Wei Zhao speak again, Jiang Ci turned to look and saw him clutching his chest, gasping for breath as if having difficulty breathing. His hands were also trembling slightly, veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes unfocused. It seemed to match the symptoms of “qigong deviation” that her master’s junior had described. She panicked and in her urgency, patted Wei Zhao’s back. Wei Zhao coughed several times, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
Jiang Ci held his limp body, calling out anxiously, “Third Young Master!” Seeing no response from Wei Zhao, she was at a loss for what to do. After a while, she finally remembered what her master’s junior had said and channeled her energy to strike Wei Zhao’s chest acupoint.
Wei Zhao coughed a few more times and opened his eyes, staring at Jiang Ci for a while before slowly laughing, “You silly girl, you’re exceptionally stupid!”
He sat up straight, crossed his legs, and began to regulate his breathing, suppressing the turmoil of his true qi caused by his emotional state. As his true qi gradually returned to his dantian, he coughed a few more times and looked at Jiang Ci.
Jiang Ci felt a chill run down her spine under his complex gaze, but she couldn’t utter a word. They stared at each other in silence.
In the firelight, Wei Zhao’s beautiful face was as pure as a snow lotus, his eyes flickering with a subtle light. He gazed quietly at Jiang Ci, his eyes like black gems, seeming to possess a magical power that held her gaze, not allowing her to look away.
His slender fingers gently caressed Jiang Ci’s cheek, slowly moving closer to her ear. His voice carried a hint of inquiry, a touch of confusion, and perhaps a trace of joy: “Tell me, why didn’t you take the opportunity to kill me or escape just now?”