The day the ruler of Wu Fang Kingdom left Bei Dou happened to be the beginning of winter. The night temperature dropped suddenly, and strong winds made the flowering trees sway.
Xiang An’ge had already said goodbye to Ming Li and didn’t let her come to see him off. He walked alone to Bei Dou’s mountain gate, where he saw the substitute spirits guarding the gate looking up at him, their withered branch claws holding an early-blooming red plum blossom to give to him.
“For you,” said Qing Ying, standing on the stone steps of the mountain gate.
Xiang An’ge looked at Qing Ying and said, “These are all substitute spirits I made. What are you giving me?”
Qing Ying said, “The substitute spirits are made by you, but I picked the flowers.”
Only then did Xiang An’ge lower his head to examine the red plum branches held in the substitute spirits’ hands. He looked very carefully, as if memorizing the appearance of every petal before looking back at Qing Ying.
“I’m leaving,” Xiang An’ge said as he walked down the stone steps.
Qing Ying stood still without moving, only waving at his back: “Thank you.”
This wasn’t the first time she had thanked Xiang An’ge.
The substitute spirits waved together with Qing Ying. Red plum petals drifted with the wind, falling onto Xiang An’ge’s hem. His footsteps paused as he looked back.
Xiang An’ge asked, “Don’t you have anything else to say?”
Qing Ying lowered her hand, seeming to think very seriously, and Xiang An’ge waited patiently.
Finally, Qing Ying asked in return, “What do you want to hear me say?”
Xiang An’ge also answered directly, asking straightforwardly, “Do you want me to leave?”
Qing Ying looked at him, her bright, moist eyes full of smiles, and answered just as candidly, “If you want to leave, I won’t keep you. If you need me, I will come.”
Xiang An’ge stood for a long time, and Qing Ying did not leave either. The night wind passed between the two, carrying the coolness of early winter and a momentary fragrance of flowers.
*
Wu Fang Kingdom remained like spring all year round. Countless substitute spirits bustled about in the elegant, exquisite palace, with new tasks to do every day: tending to flowers and plants, repairing buildings, feeding birds and beasts, and playing the roles of citizens in the town outside the palace.
Xiang An’ge walked casually through the streets filled with substitute spirits, his gaze reflecting the comings and goings of substitute spirits wearing different clothes and topped with different facial drawings.
When he stood at the entrance of his palace, Xiang An’ge suddenly looked back. The market behind was still bustling. Although the substitute spirits could not speak, they made various sounds through different actions.
The sound of hammering iron, ringing bells, the noise of walking up and down, running, opening and closing doors, folding paper bags, sorting vegetables, washing rice, pouring water, and the splashing of hot oil in a wok.
The last sound that rang in his ears was Qing Ying’s voice when she left Wu Fang Kingdom and saw these scenes, tilting her head to ask him, “Do you prefer dead things or living things?”
Xiang An’ge said, “Dead things, of course.”
Qing Ying asked again, “If you like dead things, why do you pursue making substitute spirits become like living things?”
Outside Wu Fang Kingdom, substitute spirits were like wooden stakes, existing for cultivators to practice spirit techniques. Some substitute spirits were more advanced than wooden stakes and could use spirit techniques in combat.
Only in Wu Fang Kingdom did substitute spirits exist not to help cultivators practice spirit techniques, but to learn how to live as people, forming a bustling, vibrant world.
Xiang An’ge returned to the palace. Substitute spirits bowed to him as he passed. As he approached the bedchamber, he noticed a substitute spirit standing in front of the hall with difficulty walking, swaying back and forth.
This was the substitute spirit that had once been responsible for changing Qing Ying’s medicine.
A year ago, Qing Ying was brought to Wu Fang Kingdom by Ming Li and entrusted to Wu Fang’s ruler, Xiang An’ge, to heal her from the puppet technique.
Her Spiritual Court Meridian recovered quickly due to the abundant star power within Wu Fang Kingdom, but removing the puppet technique took a long time.
Because her Spiritual Court Meridian recovered first, Qing Ying’s perception of her surroundings gradually became clear.
After Ming Li left Wu Fang Kingdom, during the period when Qing Ying’s eyes were foggy and her ears were confused, the one she sensed most was Xiang An’ge, who guarded her day and night.
The second blood exchange technique was a dangerous and challenging procedure. Xiang An’ge took it very seriously, attending to every detail, always informing Qing Ying in advance of what would happen.
His speech was neither fast nor slow, coming to Qing Ying’s ears as calm and composed, without revealing a hint of hesitation or uncertainty.
Initially, as a puppet, Qing Ying was blank, always maintaining an empty expression.
Another face similar to hers was different. Whenever Xiang An’ge went to see Jiang Ying to confirm her condition, that face showed fear, hatred, and begged him for mercy.
Only after the blood exchange technique was completed and Qing Ying’s eight meridians gradually recovered did that face show different expressions.
—Resentment, anger, pain.
Qing Ying couldn’t control it. For five years, all her emotions had been suppressed by the puppet technique. Now that the power of the puppet technique was weakened, the resentment in her heart overflowed uncontrollably.
Each time Xiang An’ge removed the bandages to apply medicine, he could see Qing Ying with her head lowered. When she could exert a little strength, she would squeeze the twin elephant spirit dolls in her hands.
The Spiritual Court Meridian that Qing Ying unconsciously spread conveyed her anxiety and frustration. Regarding Senior Brother Chen Zhou’s situation in the western crater, she wanted to tell Senior Sister Ming Li, but couldn’t speak due to the puppet technique, couldn’t accurately convey her meaning, and suffered greatly because of this.
Until Ming Li sent a message informing that Chen Zhou had been found.
Only then were Qing Ying’s anxiety and pain calmed. It was also the first time Xiang An’ge saw those beautiful, empty eyes glistening with tears.
*
The anger and resentment on that face gradually subsided, becoming calm.
On a certain night, the cracks in that body were repaired, the stiffness softened. Qing Ying regained control of her body, stood up by herself, slowly walked to the window, reached out to push it open, facing the cold night wind that blew and lifted her layered hair.
Eyes that had regained their luster and focus reflected thousands of stars in the sky.
Qing Ying’s fingertips lightly tapped the corner of the wooden window, her gaze fixed on the starry night sky. She stopped the substitute spirit from calling Xiang An’ge and supported herself against the walls and doors to walk outside. She crouched down with her back against the wall in the corner of the eaves, arms around her knees, quietly observing the sky.
At dawn, Xiang An’ge came to see her and found her crouched outside the wall. Hearing his voice, she turned to look, her eyes filled with a smile.
In just one night, her demeanor had completely changed.
“I… wanted to get some fresh air,” Qing Ying said slowly, pronouncing each word as clearly as possible. “The flowers outside the window are very beautiful, and the wind is very gentle.”
Xiang An’ge looked at her and said mildly, “As you wish.”
The substitute spirits stood quietly waiting in the distance.
Xiang An’ge didn’t leave either, standing a few steps away from Qing Ying, keeping her company as she looked at flowers he had long grown tired of and felt the morning breeze he had long been weary of.
After a moment of silence, Xiang An’ge said, “Time to go back inside.”
Qing Ying shook her head: “When I was in Nan Que… it was also like this, confined in a room, only able to see the flowering trees, the sky, and night lights through the window.”
Xiang An’ge could roughly guess what Qing Ying had experienced in Nan Que. From the information revealed by Jiang Ying’s pleas for mercy, and from half-dead Cui Yuanxi, who kept mumbling about Qing Ying, he could deduce the whole picture.
If these two hadn’t committed heinous crimes against Qing Ying, Ming Li wouldn’t have tortured them like this.
Xiang An’ge had never mentioned to Qing Ying what happened to her in Nan Que. Now hearing her speak of it, he only asked, “Do you think this place is like Nan Que, another cage imprisoning you?”
After saying this, Xiang An’ge thought to himself that at worst, he could give her a larger palace to live in.
But Qing Ying looked at him in surprise, shook her head, and with her hands around her knees supporting her chin, said with a slight smile, “Nan Que was a cage that imprisoned me. This place is the new world I saw when I first stepped out of that cage.”
Xiang An’ge lowered his eyes to look at her for a long time.
After learning that Chen Zhou had finally been brought back to Bei Dou from the crater, Qing Ying curbed her resentful thoughts, no longer hysterical, no longer allowing herself to wallow in hatred and anger.
She used tremendous strength and courage to convince herself to look forward and move forward.
Every communication talisman sent by Ming Li was kept by Qing Ying, as were those from others. Besides Ming Li, it was Dong Yeshou, who had no time to see her, who sent the most messages.
It was these people who supported Qing Ying in moving forward, not focusing on how to tear apart the Cui siblings or trample Nan Que, but on recovering quickly, being able to stand and walk steadily, speak properly, freely use star power, and quickly go to see the people she wanted to see.
The pain was deeply etched in her bones and heart, unforgettable for a lifetime, but she couldn’t wallow in it because the beautiful people she had were more precious than the unforgettable pain.
*
To quickly restore the strength in her limbs, Qing Ying fetched things for Xiang An’ge every day, serving tea and pouring water. Before he could say what he wanted, Qing Ying had already run to bring it over.
If she couldn’t guess which one he wanted, she would simply bring them all and then put back the ones not needed.
Coming and going, even if walking slowly, still appeared busy and tiring.
Xiang An’ge, watching Qing Ying breathlessly bring a teacup to the table, said, “If your senior sister were to see this, she would think I’m mistreating you.”
Qing Ying waved her hand: “I would explain it clearly.”
Xiang An’ge tilted his head to indicate the substitute spirits standing at the side: “You’ve taken over all their work these days.”
“Sorry,” Qing Ying smiled at the substitute spirits.
Xiang An’ge tapped his finger on the table, feeling this wasn’t a solution, and asked, “What do you usually do in your free time?”
Qing Ying thought for a moment and said, “Practice spirit techniques, play with Senior Sister, listen to Master’s lectures, help out in the seven halls, go out to fight with Yeyun, and plant flowers with Senior Brother.”
Xiang An’ge thought to himself that her days were quite rich. He then asked, “What do you often do when alone?”
Qing Ying sat at the table, counting on her fingers: “Tidy up the room, make dried fruits for Master and Aunt Qu, prepare equipment for outings, draw—”
Xiang An’ge: “Then draw.”
He snapped his fingers, and the stationary substitute spirits scurried away, quickly returning with drawing materials, rapidly laying them out on the table.
Xiang An’ge handed the paint-stained brush to Qing Ying. “Stop when you’re tired.”
Drawing was also a form of physical exercise.
Qing Ying drew with great concentration. She didn’t force herself, stopping to rest when tired and continuing after recovering her energy.
Most of the time, Xiang An’ge stayed in the same place as Qing Ying, preventing any mishaps, such as her fainting from overexertion, and thus saw her drawings, mostly of people and scenes from Bei Dou.
As Qing Ying’s eight meridians integrated, she could expend more energy and began to draw the Wu Fang Kingdom.
She drew page after page of substitute spirits tending to flowers and plants.
Another day, Qing Ying held her brush, looking up at Xiang An’ge sitting under a tree repairing a substitute spirit’s joints, and silently captured this scene.
When Xiang An’ge finished with the substitute spirit and stood up, his gaze habitually glanced at the person at the table, seeing her picking up her drawing and walking toward him with a smile.
Xiang An’ge stared at the black stick figure on the drawing paper for a long time, then slowly moved his gaze to ask Qing Ying, “Who did you draw?”
Qing Ying said politely, “The respected ruler of Wu Fang Kingdom.”
Xiang An’ge stared at her with an inscrutable expression: “Draw it again.”
“Oh,” Qing Ying said, sitting down again.
In the drawing, the man repairing substitute spirits under the flowering tree had attentive eyes and a composed expression. Qing Ying’s brush captured Xiang An’ge’s eyebrows and body, but they came alive on paper.
After this day, Xiang An’ge frequently appeared in Qing Ying’s drawings. Each time, she would ask Xiang An’ge if he wanted his picture. If Xiang An’ge said no, she would throw it away.
But Xiang An’ge took the drawings each time.