Just as I had first encountered the Yin-Erosion Rain in Pingjing, Du Chuilun was unaware of its unique properties. He remained in his room, peacefully working on the ledgers, until he heard his Sixth Sister’s cries through the wind and rain.
He panicked instantly. He stepped out of the shop door with one foot, then doubled back to grab an umbrella. For a cultivator, ordinary rain required no shelter, but this new umbrella was still wrapped in colored paper. He tore it away clumsily, snapped it open with a *shua*, and rushed out.
Only when the drifting rain began to corrode his skin did he realize how terrifying it was. Seeing me huddled on the ground, where the murky, stagnant rainwater was bubbling with dangerous froth and reaching my ankles, he grew both angry and frantic. He reached down, intending to scoop me up by the waist.
Just as he tilted the umbrella over my head, I turned my face toward him in a daze. The rainwater on my face had thickened into a dark, mask-like film, yet thin, fragile lines of water—seemingly defenseless—still traced paths across it. Those were my tears, appearing all the more crystalline and white by contrast.
"Qingming..." I murmured sorrowfully, spitting out another mouthful of black water.
He had never seen me in such a state of madness and despair. He had intended to hold me, but he pulled his hand back. After a moment of silence, he placed a hand on my shoulder—gentle yet brooks no refusal—and helped me up.
"Sister..." he said, his voice hoarse. "Let’s go back. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to find her."
"Hahaha!" I shook my head and laughed wildly. "I won't look... I won't look anymore... She won't see me..."
As I laughed, more Yin-Erosion Rain poured down my throat, sending me into a fit of violent coughing. Du Chuilun silently patted my back, still guiding me back inside with that same mixture of tenderness and firm resolve.
I developed a fever that night. The toxic water had entered my lungs and stomach, searing my sensory organs and causing a high fever that refused to break. Du Chuilun hurriedly asked an elderly neighbor woman to look after me while he went out to seek a physician and medicine. He practically kidnapped a doctor to come treat me, paying an exorbitant night-call fee for the Yin-Erosion Rain.
By dawn, I had regained a sliver of consciousness. I saw him sitting properly at the table reading a book, though he remained on the same page for a long time; he had likely sat there all night. His own skin bore burns, yet he had forgotten to apply any ointment to himself.
Seeing me wake, he hurried over. He moved to feel my forehead, hesitated, then flipped his hand to use the back of it. His two fingers touched me briefly before pulling away. "Would you like some water?" he asked softly. "Is there anything you want to eat?"
In truth, I wanted nothing at all, and I didn't even want to speak. Whatever Du Chuilun brought, I consumed woodenly. When the decocted medicine arrived, I swallowed it in one gulp, unable to tell if it was cold or scalding.
Yindeng somehow got word and came to see me that afternoon. I knew her schedule; for her to be here now meant she had rushed over the moment she woke up. However, I truly lacked the spirit to play along with a smiling face. She was considerate and pained for me, taking no offense. She personally fed me the grapes and sweets she had bought and helped me wash my body before leaving, looking back at me with every step. My ailment was less a physical sickness and more the explosion of years of suppressed heartache, yet not for a single moment did I stop loving her—not even in that rainy night when I said through heart-wrenching pain that I would not see her.
I lay on the couch, listening to the autumn leaves brushing against the window paper with a soft, delicate rustle. I wondered if it truly had been her. Her hand, the sound of her Still Water Blade hitting the ground—I couldn't have been mistaken. Was she hurt? Was she safe? If only that blood had belonged to an enemy. I hoped that by being ill, I was suffering her share of sickness as well; I was willing to trade all the peace I had accumulated in my nineteen years of life for her safety amidst her perils.
Gu Shuguan also came to visit, bringing a bag of stolen, precious Flaming Sun Grass, which was the best remedy for this yin-poison.
I spent three to five days in a muddle before I finally walked downstairs for the first time. I found Du Chuilun capably hosting two wealthy merchants. Seeing me, he moved to greet me, but I smiled and shook my head to indicate I was fine. He returned to his polite, smiling introductions of the wares and eventually saw the two men off.
I finally spoke to him with a smile. "I see our pots of chrysanthemums are doing well. They weren't ruined by the rain."
His gaze followed mine to the doorway. In the sunset, the delicate green chrysanthemums had just sprouted a few petals, trembling gently in the evening breeze. He smiled as well. "Sister, you truly have refined tastes. You rushed to save a few pots of flowers first, leaving several expensive magical artifacts to be corroded."
"What does that matter?" I laughed. "The living things are the most precious."
There was some unrest in the capital. From time to time, men looking like constables would hurry past the door. Notices were posted at all the major city gates, offering rewards for people who looked remarkably ordinary, not like criminals at all. But I no longer cared about any of it. After this ordeal, Seventh Brother was gradually taking over the shop's affairs. Every day, I practiced my illusions, maintained my martial arts, tended to the plants, or went to chat with Yindeng in the afternoons before she became busy.
After Xun Ba was sent to the border, I gave another commission to Luo Cheng. I asked him, "Brother Luo, have you been promoted to a Thousand-man Commander yet?" He gave me a cold look and said expressionlessly, "My superiors blamed me for acting on my own. I'm lucky I wasn't punished." I didn't mind; whenever a suitable job came up, I still called him, and he always accepted.
One day, while watering flowers at the door, I heard a peddler singing as he swayed along with his shoulder pole. A group of children followed him, clapping and cheering, "Puppets, puppets, mechanical wooden dolls!" The little mechanical kirin Wei Qingming gave me was still by my bedside; because I carefully replenished its spiritual energy, it remained as lively as ever. Hearing the commotion, I watched with a smile for a while before walking over to inspect the colorful toys the peddler was introducing. I didn't take a fancy to the puppets; as Muyu and the others had said, the kirin's design was rustic and its craftsmanship unique. It wasn't a common item sold on the streets; it was highly likely Wei Qingming had made it herself.
What caught my eye was a set of wooden ornaments. Each was only an inch tall, depicting lifelike animals. There were five in total, set against a wooden backdrop that looked like a bamboo wall, arranged at different heights with exceptional beauty. The craftsmanship was incredibly delicate, feeling powdery and smooth to the touch. They were made of precious fragrant wood, emitting a subtle, pleasant scent. I loved the set at first sight and immediately said I wanted them all.
The peddler asked for fifty per piece, plus the backdrop, totaling three hundred spiritual stones. I didn't haggle and paid promptly. The peddler said, "Much obliged!" and even threw in a matching small box for them.
I held them, stroking them lovingly. Perhaps my lovesickness had truly reached its terminal stage, for I felt the style of craftsmanship was exactly like Wei Qingming’s kirin. I asked, "Brother Peddler, where did you get such treasures? The skill is divine!"
He laughed. "The skill has to be good! These are produced by the Zhen family of the Tang Sect. Ah, since we've hit it off, I won't spin you a yarn—these were made by a failed, destitute member of a branch of the Zhen family. The asking price wasn't cheap, and I'm just helping an acquaintance sell them; I hardly make a cent."
I was greatly disappointed to hear this. It turned out I had encountered this skill twice by coincidence because it came from the same school of technique. The Zhen family was a thousand-year-old clan with countless branches; it wasn't strange to run into their work. So, it wasn't made by Wei Qingming. It made sense; those noble, extraordinary hands of hers, which held the power to stir the winds and clouds, how could they be used for such mundane tasks? Though my mood dipped, I hurriedly said, "Brother, if you get more goods from this person, you must sell them to me. Don't sell to anyone else! I'll pay whatever you ask!"
He gave me his word. Sure enough, every month or two, he would bring a new set of works. They were always a corner of a courtyard paired with a few cute animals. Eventually, he even started bringing indoor furniture sets. What was rare was that they were all elegant and extraordinary, like treasures sold in great merchant houses, and they even featured small mechanisms. For example, if you gently twisted a lamp, a grain-sized piece of fluorspar inside would glow dimly. If you lifted the lid of a teapot, the mosquito-leg-sized runes inside would activate, creating a ripple of faint tea-waves. The work became more and more miraculous. It truly seemed to be the work of a former scion of a great family.
The first winter snow of the year arrived silently. It was my first time seeing snow in the capital. When I opened the door in the morning, the fresh scent of snow rushed toward me. Snowflakes the size of fingertips drifted down like downy fluff, laying a thin layer of white carpet on the ground. It was light and smooth; as long as it wasn't trampled, it wouldn't melt, maintaining its original, pure form.
Yindeng was draped in a red plush cloak patterned with white plums. She was huffing on her slender, bamboo-shoot-like fingers, which were slightly red from the cold, looking up at the falling snow with infinite tenderness. She herself was like a red plum tree in sudden bloom; even the wind and snow seemed reluctant to wrong her. The snowflakes that brushed against her lovely cheeks seemed exceptionally gentle, like a caress.
Though her makeup was perfect, it had clearly been touched up. She must have just finished a night of banqueting and changed her clothes before coming to my shop. I smiled. "Sister is in high spirits. Why not come inside to warm up before watching the snow? Can you still manage a cup or two of 'green ant' wine?"
Yindeng chuckled and winked mysteriously. "Excellent. I came to see Sister A-Zhi, wanting to compare my sister... to this early morning snow."
I felt a bit shy and blushed. "What are you saying, Sister? You are the red plum braving the snow, the most stunning beauty in the world."
She gave a couple of crisp laughs and hopped inside, trying her best not to trample the fallen snow. She actually pulled me out into the snowy light, looking me up and down and nodding repeatedly. I cleared my throat, gently pulled my hand away, and set up a small stove. I didn't dare serve her actual rustic wine, so I used boiling water to warm a flask of sweet white rose dew. It had a nickname, "Silver Fragrant Snow," which suited the weather and her name. She naturally recognized the quality and, with a silver tongue, praised my thoughtfulness and elegance.
Just as we shared a laughing toast, Du Chuilun emerged from the kitchen carrying porridge. Yindeng had visited often over the past six months, so the three of them were no strangers. Smelling the aroma, Yindeng grew hungry and asked Du Chuilun coquettishly, "A-Lun, is there a portion for me?"
"Yes," Du Chuilun said. "I'm simmering another pot of Rouge Rice, but it needs more time. I feared Sixth Sister might be hungry, so I brought a portion of this first."
Yindeng called him "sweet" and mischievously snatched the spoon first, taking a large scoop of my scallop and dried oyster porridge. She was full of praise. The two of them noisily shared a bowl. By the time her favorite Rouge Rice porridge arrived, she seemed full, merely stirring the porridge and occasionally taking a few grains of the melt-in-your-mouth rice while looking toward the East Morning Gate.
I followed her gaze, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
After a long while, Yindeng sighed with a smile. "In such weather, travelers surely have it hard. I imagine the northern frontier is already desolate, with heavy snow piling on the bows."
She was likely thinking of someone who had recently gone north. I wondered what kind of dashing youth could earn the longing of such a beauty. I also thought silently: if Wei Qingming were in the capital, would she be so busy she had no time to enjoy the snow? Swords and blades are cold and biting when it snows; I hoped she would have fewer cases to run in the winter and could spend more time doing desk work indoors.
The New Year approached again. Since neither Du Chuilun nor I had anything else to do, the shop stayed open until the evening of New Year's Eve, closing only at the start of the Hour of the Rooster. As Boss Su, I hosted a feast, ordering a spread of lively dishes from Chunan Restaurant. Having no other friends to invite, I called upon the two bachelors, Gu Shuguan and Luo Cheng. I ran into Yindeng on Ziwa Street; we shared a smile and a blessing before she entered Fengle Tower.
Gu Shuguan and Luo Cheng drank with great gusto, cup after cup. To my surprise, Seventh Brother, who never drank, joined them, matching them cup for cup. The meal lasted until the end of the Hour of the Boar, and fireworks were already beginning to rise into the sky outside. Gu Shuguan laughed and said he was going to Pingkang Ward to find his "sweetheart," asking Luo Cheng and Du Chuilun if they wanted to go. Luo Cheng, usually a cold-faced tough guy and a blood-soaked asura, agreed quite readily with a nod. Du Chuilun didn't speak, so I answered for him with a grin, "Go, go! I'll just head back to the shop to sleep."
After paying the bill and stepping out, Gu and Luo headed west. Du Chuilun was still behind me, heading south. Gu Shuguan waved for him to come along. He said flatly, "I'll see Sixth Sister home first." I waved my hand, saying it was perfectly safe, but the three men walked together in silent agreement, escorting me back to Rumenglai before turning back toward Pingkang Ward... I suddenly realized why Wen Xiang loved being a bandit leader so much. Being surrounded by a group of followers, shouting orders and being looked after—it felt great!
***
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