Chapter Ninety: An Old Acquaintance Once More

The sun sank behind the mountains, and dusk gradually closed in. In the hills the air was damp and cool; beneath the chill wind and pale moon, the peach blossoms bloomed with unrestrained abandon. Liu Yun stood beneath a peach tree, the distant mountains in the darkness like a vast, menacing mass towering before his eyes. Shadows swayed, and faintly one might have heard the howl of wolves and the roar of tigers. After putting away the bowls and chopsticks, A Chun stepped outside in the moonlight, naturally taking his arm as she smiled and asked, “What is my husband thinking about?”

Liu Yun turned to look at her. A sweet smile lit her face, so simple and sincere that he felt an inexplicable guilt. Her plain goodness only made his own unworthiness more apparent. He could not forget the past, could not give his whole attention to the present. How hateful he was.

He smiled, but said nothing.

A Chun quietly took his hand. Moonlight fell over them both, and in her eyes there were scattered points of brightness. “Though my husband has never spoken of the past, I know he must be no ordinary man. Only someone like Miss Ye, like a fairy descended from heaven, would have been worthy of you. I am only a village girl who grew up in the countryside, not as beautiful as Miss Ye, and certainly not as noble. I should never have been so lucky as to become your wife. But Heaven has taken pity on me and sent you before my eyes. I do not know how to say things that please people, but I only want to serve you for a lifetime, wash your clothes, cook your meals, bear your children. I want to stay by your side. Husband, please do not abandon me, all right?”

By the end her voice seemed choked with tears, and her eyes had grown wet. Such a simple woman—perhaps she knew nothing of the world’s ways, perhaps she possessed no great talent or brilliance—but she was wholehearted in her goodness toward him, entrusting her entire remaining life to him. He remembered her once saying that she belonged to him in life and to him in death, that in this lifetime, apart from him, there would never be another.

Suddenly a wave of pity swept through Liu Yun. How could he be so selfish? She was his wife, carrying his child. How could he stand before her and ache for another woman? What place was there for her in all this?

Only then did he realize what a bastard he was—not only had he failed Qianran, but he would fail A Chun as well. How could he do such a thing? He must never do it. Qianran still had another person by her side, but A Chun had only him. Since he had already wronged one person, he must never wrong this one too.

Liu Yun clasped her hand, bit his lip, and after a long silence seemed finally to make his decision. “I promised Grandfather I would take good care of you, and I will keep that promise. A Chun, give me some time. I will handle this properly.”

At once, A Chun burst into tears and laughter, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I believe you.”

Moonlight spilled across the mountain ravine. Clear water flowed over the stones, and across the dozens of zhang of cliff, the pines sighed like waves while the stream murmured below. All at once Liu Yun was overwhelmed by fatigue.

He had never been a man who could divide his heart in two. When he had Lotus Heart, he could not see Ye Qianran; when he had Ye Qianran, everyone else was mere cloud and mist. But now... to hold two people in one heart was indeed exhausting.

He lifted his head to the sky. The bright moon hung high overhead, mountain mists drifted around it, and the night air was cool. He had only been in this place for a year and a half, yet whenever he thought of war, thought of the capital, he felt as though years and years had passed. In truth, compared with the fresh breeze, he was even more inclined toward seclusion, but from childhood he had known the burden on his shoulders, and so he could not live as he pleased.

It seemed he had once promised someone that in the future he would roam the world sword in hand with her. Yet now she was no longer beside him, and she... she... without him, seemed able to live very well indeed.

He lowered his head, frowning, and looked at the warm, familiar wife by his side, and at the child in her womb. Suddenly he felt that there were many things in life far crueler than war. In war, victory or defeat, advance or retreat, life or death, all had clear answers. But in life there was often a middle ground, and he stood trapped in that middle ground, unable to advance or retreat, living worse than death.

Night deepened; dew grew heavy. Dark clouds veiled the moonlight like water, and the mountains fell into complete silence, broken only now and then by a dog’s bark. Deeper night, heavier heart.

The watch drums sounded on the street—second watch. On the small town’s roads there were only a few pedestrians. In the Lai Fu Inn, a guest was eating dinner. Looking at his dust-covered appearance, the innkeeper’s apprentice figured he must be a traveling merchant passing through. Leaning idly at the counter, he thought bitterly of how Phoenix Gathering lay on a major thoroughfare, so there were always travelers stopping to eat or lodge even in the middle of the night. And their owner was such a miser that as long as there was money to be made, he would take guests at any hour, which meant the boy was forever sleeping badly.

Another gust of wind blew in, and a man in dark teal robes stepped through the inn door. The apprentice put on his usual smile, flicked the towel over his shoulder out of habit, and went up to greet him. “Sir, are you here for a meal or a room?”

The man dusted off his clothes with one hand, not even lifting his head. “A room.”

The apprentice’s smile widened. “Right this way, sir.”

After everything had been put in order, Qingfeng lay comfortably on the bed. After a whole day on the road, he was thoroughly exhausted. With both arms tucked under his head, he stared at the worn canopy overhead, wondering when he would ever catch up to Ye Qianran. Juanbi had said she had only left one day ahead of him; if he had not taken the wrong road, he ought to have caught up by now. But he still had not seen her. Then again, the world is vast and crowded—finding one person really does depend on luck. He sighed, turned over, put such thoughts aside, closed his eyes, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke the next morning, the sky was overcast and a fine rain was falling. This late spring rain was delicate and precious. Ye Qianran stood at the inn’s entrance, watching the hurried passersby. A quiet serenity settled in her heart for no reason at all. She liked rain; it always reminded her of those peaceful days when she had sat by the window listening to rain strike the plantain leaves. Now she no longer had the leisure to listen to the drizzling rain on the parasol tree. And this small town along the road did not possess the hazy poetry of Suzhou. Yet being able to hear the patter of rain still filled her with an indescribable joy, like looking up on a street steeped in twilight and unexpectedly meeting an old friend long cherished in the heart. That sort of happiness spread outward from the depths within, and her eyes and brows were full of smiles.

Turning back, she saw a few tables of guests eating in the inn, but paid them no mind and went up the stairs. Just as her foot landed on the first step, as if remembering something, she suddenly looked left. Qingfeng was already there, tilting his head and grinning at her. Ye Qianran froze, and then Qingfeng was by her side.

“Well now, not seen an old friend for over a year, and you don’t recognize me?”

As he spoke, he spread his arms as if to embrace her. Ye Qianran immediately smiled and hugged him back. “What are you doing here?”

Qingfeng let her go, his mouth curved with easy amusement. “I came specially to find you.”

“Oh? What do you mean by that?” Ye Qianran asked in surprise.

Qingfeng made an inviting gesture as he walked. “A year ago, we parted ways in Luoyang, and I returned to the capital. Two months ago, after finishing matters at home, I decided to look for you. Since you were going to find Liu Yun, I thought that you and Juanbi, both being weak women, would be in danger on the road, so I wanted to join forces with you. After I reached Suzhou, I made inquiries everywhere, looking for news of you. Then I heard that Juanbi had married. From Juanbi I got your whereabouts, and after hurrying here as fast as I could, I finally found you.”

Ye Qianran pressed her lips together and smiled. “Since you’re being so loyal, I’ll give you some good news.”

“What news?” Qingfeng leaned toward her.

“Liu Yun is on the mountain nearby,” Ye Qianran said.

“Really?” Qingfeng shot to his feet in excitement, chair and all, with a clatter.

Several people nearby turned to look. Qingfeng glanced around, saw the attention he had drawn, and sat back down a little embarrassed. Lowering his voice, he asked, “You’re serious? Liu Yun is really there?”

Ye Qianran lowered her gaze to the plain dishes on the table. Her lips moved. “Yes, he is.”

This time Qingfeng did not answer at once. He stared at her for a long while before cautiously asking, “What happened? Why don’t you look happy at all?”

Ye Qianran lifted her eyes and smiled. “Who says I’m not happy? You’re the one who’s too excited. I already knew he was still alive; you only just found out, so of course our feelings are not the same. ”

Qingfeng asked suspiciously, “Is that so?”

Ye Qianran broke into a wide smile. “It is. Hurry and eat. When the rain stops, I’ll take you to see him.”

Qingfeng seemed about to say more, but swallowed the words back. Since she did not want to talk, he would not press her. Besides, once he saw Liu Yun, everything would become clear. So he said nothing more.

The rain lasted until noon before it finally stopped. As soon as it did, Ye Qianran and Qingfeng set off up the mountain together. After the rain, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue, and on the far side of the mountains a beautiful rainbow-bridge arced into view, dazzling in its radiance. Qingfeng walked along, sighing in admiration. “What a splendid place this is—beautiful mountains and clear waters. No wonder Liu Yun doesn’t want to go back. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to either.”

Ye Qianran raised a hand to shade her brow and pointed to a mountain in the distance. “I heard from the people in town that there’s a Daoist temple on that mountain. In it lives an old Daoist priest with a white beard. He’s already one hundred and fifty this year. If you don’t want to leave, you can go and take him as your master, and carry on your noble Daoist tradition,” she said with mock seriousness.

Qingfeng looked at her, both amused and exasperated. “My reputation has already been ruined by your brother. Why are you still bringing that up?”

Ye Qianran kept walking. “You’re twenty-five this year, aren’t you? And you’re still not married. I thought your great ambition was to become a Daoist priest.”

Qingfeng rubbed his forehead helplessly. “I keep saying it: though I admire Daoist learning, I never intended to become a priest. Just because I’m not married now doesn’t mean I never will be. You’re perfectly fine, so stop fretting over nonsense.”

Ye Qianran suddenly stopped. Qingfeng followed her line of sight in surprise. At the end of the winding path up the mountain, a village could be seen in the distance. Delighted, he grabbed her sleeve and asked, “Is that the place ahead?”

Ye Qianran narrowed her eyes and looked forward. “Follow this road to the end. The first house you come to is it. There’s a wild peach tree in front of the gate. You’ll know it at a glance.”

Qingfeng looked at her in astonishment. “You’re not coming?”

Ye Qianran turned her face toward him. “I won’t go. But I do need to ask one favor of you. My bundle is still at the clinic. When you come back, help me bring it.”

Qingfeng stared at her. After a long while, he said, “All right. I’ll bring it back for you. But it just rained, and the mountain path is slippery. Be very careful on your way down.”

Ye Qianran looked at him and nodded in understanding.

The two walked in opposite directions, one ascending, the other descending.

Soft white clouds drifted, calm and gentle, among the mountains. A line of white egrets cried out as they rose into the sky. The air was filled everywhere with the clean fragrance of leaves and wood. Qingfeng looked back at Ye Qianran. She was walking into the wind, her figure slight and fragile, as though she might fall at any moment, yet her steps beneath her were steady beyond doubt. He smiled. Compared with a year ago, she was much more mature now. She was no longer the delicate young lady sheltered in the depths of a grand household.