Chapter 244 - A Lifetime in One Night
Qin Jiuye, the proprietor of Guoran Ju, was returning to Dingweng Village.
According to the claims Jinbao usually bandied about, this ought to have been momentous news for the small settlement. Although the shopkeeper was notoriously stingy—her first order of business upon returning was invariably to collect outstanding debts—her genuine medical skill was undeniable. The villagers should have been waiting for her with bated breath.
Yet, for some reason, the neighbors who usually swarmed out to greet her were nowhere to be seen.
Qin Jiuye stared at the lonely old locust tree at the village entrance, which had been split in two by a past lightning strike. A strange, hollow ache settled in her chest. When she had hurried back to Jiugao City from Yuzhou, she had been so consumed by the city’s dire situation that she hadn't found the heart to visit home. Now, her public performance of selling "Spring Return Soup" had surely reached the ears of her enemies; there was no longer any need for secrecy. If she didn't take this chance to look at her home, it would be truly inexcusable. If Dou Wuniang and the others found out later, they would surely brand her a cold-blooded, heartless miser. How would Guoran Ju ever restore its reputation then?
But deep down, she knew those were merely excuses.
She shouldn't have come back. Returning felt like an admission that she might never have the chance again. Yet, if she hadn't made this trip, her heart would have remained adrift, sensing a coming storm for which she was not yet prepared.
These fragmented emotions rattled within the sudden emptiness of her heart, and her pace faltered. The youth following behind her noticed. He stopped, squinting into the distance, and called out softly.
"A-jie, look."
Qin Jiuye followed his gaze. On the road at the far end of the village, a crooked line of people had formed—all familiar faces. They were herding chickens and ducks, leading donkeys, and driving ox carts. Some were already distant silhouettes, while others lagged behind.
"Shopkeeper Qin?"
Someone noticed her and looked over in surprise. "Shopkeeper Qin is back!"
The joyful cry spread like a warm ripple through the early winter twilight, enveloping her. Qin Jiuye couldn't tell if the sudden warmth came from her own emotions or the setting sun. She nodded to them as she always did, but before she could ask what was happening, a familiar wail erupted from the other side.
"A-jie! You’re finally back!"
In front of the brushwood gate of Guoran Ju stood a tall, imposing man clad in bright silver armor. From a distance, he looked like a polished steel ball dropped into the mud. He was currently at loggerheads with her beanpole of an apprentice.
Seeing his savior, Jinbao’s hard-won facade crumbled instantly. Tears and snot flowed freely. "He wants to drive us away! I didn't go... I held the fort until the very last moment..."
In the month she had been away from Jiugao, Jinbao had grown up a little. But that modicum of maturity was enough to handle village ruffians, not a soldier with a real blade.
The man in silver armor turned around, his face etched with shock. Qin Jiuye froze as well, recognizing him after a moment as Commander Wei, the subordinate of Prince Yu'an. The last time they had met was in Yichun, where she had brandished Qiu Ling’s jade pendant and argued with him until they were both red in the face.
The unexpected reunion was awkward for both parties. After a moment of silence, Qin Jiuye took the lead, bowing alongside Li Qiao. Commander Wei hastily returned the gesture, his attitude notably softer than before, though his speech remained stiff and formal.
"The nearby river levee has breached. I am acting under the orders of the Imperial Censor to assist the villagers in evacuating to safety."
The floods and breaches hadn't been a recent development. That Prince Yu'an was sending his personal men to handle such tasks now, rather than coordinating with Qiu Ling, made his true intentions easy to guess. Great events were about to unfold within and without Jiugao City; when the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer. Prince Yu'an was likely looking out for her, sparing men to settle her village even amidst his own overwhelming affairs. She appreciated the thoughtfulness, yet she could not find it in herself to be happy.
"I thank the Imperial Censor on behalf of the village," she said softly. "But many of our people are elderly. They cannot endure such upheaval, nor do they wish to leave the only home they’ve known. Please, Commander Wei, do not force them."
Commander Wei was a stubborn man bound by military orders. He looked conflicted. "How can I do that? I was ordered to leave no one behind. By rights, Miss Qin, you should also..."
"I won't be leaving," Qin Jiuye interrupted gently. "This is my home. Besides, I've only just returned. How could I turn around and leave immediately?"
Hearing her finality, Commander Wei finally ceased his persuasion. He spoke in a low, heavy voice. "The Imperial Censor told me that if Miss Qin had any needs, I should fulfill them as best I could. He also said... that the final moment is near. One must make preparations early."
The situation in Jiugao was shifting by the second. Not even an immortal could predict if the world would still be the same when the sun rose tomorrow.
Qin Jiuye watched the straggling line of retreating villagers. After a moment of thought, she pulled the person hiding behind her forward. "If you don't mind, Commander Wei, take my apprentice with you. Consider it a completed task; the Imperial Censor will understand."
Before the Commander could respond, Jinbao began to howl. "You really don't want me anymore! As soon as A-weng died, you stopped caring! You left for over a month, and now this! Even if I told Old Man Xue from the next village about your return, you shouldn't be so heartless..."
"Situ Jinbao." She called him by his full name, her tone more serious than ever before. But seeing his tear-streaked, bewildered face, the countless instructions she had prepared died in her throat. Finally, she offered a single hint: "Second Miss Fang might be there. Go and keep her company."
It took Jinbao half a minute to dry his tears and fifteen minutes to pack his small bundle. His previous stubbornness vanished into the clouds.
Qin Jiuye knew this lie would eventually be exposed, leading to another chaotic scene, but she felt no worry about that day. In fact, she looked forward to it. If that day came, it meant everything was truly over. A little squabble among family would be a blessing.
Commander Wei eventually departed, taking Jinbao and the majority of the villagers before the sun dipped below the horizon. The villagers seemed to have a premonition; they refused to leave behind a single chicken or duck, disappearing down the dirt road in a cacophony of squawking and shouting. The entire village fell into an unprecedented silence. Aside from a few households of the elderly who refused to move, only Guoran Ju remained lit behind its broken fence. These remaining souls were regulars of the clinic; to them, as long as the chimney of the pharmacy was smoking, they felt safer than if a hundred soldiers were guarding their doors.
By the time Qin Jiuye finished delivering the last dose of medicine, the sky was pitch black.
In the month without its proprietor, the medicine cabinets had gathered a layer of dust. The lazy apprentice hadn't cleared the ash from the furnace, and a broken table leg had been left wobbling, patched together just enough to last another day.
The youth’s silhouette moved quietly and busily. Under his hands, the small pharmacy was restored with miraculous speed.
"Alright, stop working. Come sit with me."
Li Qiao paused, then set down his tools and sat obediently by her side.
A light rain began to fall outside, the chill seeping through the cracks in the door. Fortunately, the fire in the hearth burned bright, and the medicinal cauldron atop it bubbled rhythmically. The small pharmacy regained its old vitality. If one did not step out of these dilapidated rooms, did not leave this crumbling courtyard, and did not look upon the desolate, silent world outside, one might almost believe this was merely the most ordinary of nights in a long, peaceful life.
Qin Jiuye stared at the glowing embers, savoring this near-extravagant tranquility. Her hand brushed against her skirt for a long time before she finally pulled something out and handed it to him.
"I should have given this to you long ago. Who knew that as soon as it was finished, the recipient would run off?"
For someone who walked the edge of a blade in the martial world, a legendary weapon was the best gift. But she had no divine sword; she only had a scabbard.
The gift remained suspended in the air, unheld. After a moment, she couldn't help but turn her head, pointing at the patterns on it with a hint of defensive guilt. "I didn't tell Granny Wang to carve all those flowers and leaves. I only asked for a swallow. The rest was her own 'creative flair' that turned it into this ghostly mess. If you hate it, just throw it in the fire as kindling. It was made to fit the Qingwu Blade anyway; it's useless to anyone else."
"A-jie said we were returning to the village... just to give me this?" This was the first gift he had ever received. His fingers brushed over the simple, rustic scabbard with a mix of longing and trepidation. "Why a swallow?"
"Didn't we meet in the spring?" She looked at him with a small, proud smile. "And once a swallow builds its nest, it returns home every spring. I want you to always remember: the blade must return to its sheath, and the person must return home."
She waited, but no response came. Belatedly, she felt her cheeks heating up. She rubbed her hand over the scabbard, pretending to admire Granny Wang’s craftsmanship. "This is my first time gifting a scabbard. I don't know if her skill is as good as she boasted. Try it out; if it doesn't fit, I'll go back and find her. Her shop is in the east of the city—the monk can run, but the temple can't..."
As she babbled, a heavy weight was suddenly placed in her hands.
"A-jie, help me try it." He stared at her, his gaze more fervent than the fire in the hearth. "Only you are allowed to touch Master's blade."
The Qingwu Blade was famous for being light and swift; in the youth's hand, it was like a weightless silver wind. But as Qin Jiuye gripped it, she realized it was far heavier than she had imagined. The moment it pressed into her palm, she understood the gravity of a killing weapon and the burden of the one who wielded it.
Sensing her hesitation, he placed his hand over hers, guiding the tip of the blade into the scabbard. The sharp, lethal edge was swallowed inch by inch, just as he, covered in the blood of his past, had walked into her embrace.
"From now on, no matter when the Qingwu Blade is drawn, for whatever reason, or for how long, it will always return to this sheath."
No matter where he went or what he experienced, he would return. Even if his body perished and his soul dissipated, he would ride the wind back to this courtyard, back to her side.
The moment the last glint of cold steel was encased in the warm wood, the fire in his heart could no longer be concealed.
The Qingwu Blade was hard and cold, but the youth’s lips were soft and burning. Beneath them was the very bed where she had placed him when she first picked him up. Back then, she had only thought of squeezing some silver from him, curious about the secrets in his body. Now, he laid himself open, allowing her to take and explore as she pleased, yet she felt a sudden surge of timidity.
His "techniques" were too fierce; in a few short months, he had surpassed the "master" who taught him. She found herself unable to parry his advances and wanted to call a halt to this sudden "sparring match." But he knew that if he were patient enough, he would eventually win his lover's response. He believed his heart was hot enough to melt all hesitation and unease.
"A-jie, stay by my side. Don't leave me... never leave me..."
His voice was a lure, his eyes held a hypnotic power, and his heat threatened to incinerate all reason. Everything about him was like an ancient, silent curse that vibrated through her soul, making her powerless to refuse his every demand.
He heard her answer and, satisfied, confirmed it again and again against her ear. Feverish kisses mingled with scorched breaths, and the faint scent of medicine diffused between their lips. He was desperate to fill her with his passion, leaving her no room to contemplate the turmoil of the world outside.
"Let's not go back, alright? Let's just stay like this, guarding this house, doing anything at all."
Living out their lives together at Guoran Ju? It was a beautiful thought. But...
Qin Jiuye blinked, finally clearing the fog of his enchantment. "No, I promised Su Muhe we would research the Wild Fragrance Seed together. And there's Xu Qiuchi's side..."
Before she could finish, he silenced her again.
His kiss changed, shifting from lingering tenderness to a forceful intensity, yet beneath that force was an undeniable, fragile wandering—reminding her of that evening in Xingshou Town. Back then, she hadn't been able to discern the meaning behind his actions, but now, she understood them effortlessly.
She reached up and patted his back gently, as if soothing a starving, fiercely protective pup. The youth, lost in his desperate search for love, felt her touch and gradually stilled. After a long moment, he slumped heavily against her, burying his head in the crook of her neck, his hair spilling over her chest in a shape of defeat.
No matter how serious, skilled, or determined he was, in the end, he would always lose to her.
"...Why? All of me belongs to A-jie. Why won't A-jie give all of herself to me?"
Why exhaust herself for those who weren't worth it? Why plunge into danger for the suffering of strangers? Why place those trivial matters before their plan to be together forever?
The woman blinked, sighing with feigned regret. "And here I was, speaking well of you in front of Qiu Ling."
He finally lifted his head, his stubborn eyes turning into a pool of spring water, his gaze scattering over her like shattered glass. "What did A-jie say?"
"I said you were different from him. I said that no matter where I decided to go, whether to stay or leave, you wouldn't question my choice. But in the blink of an eye, you're just like him, wanting me to stay put."
He pursed his lips, whispering after a long silence, "I am not like him. He has a father and a brother, the entire Qiu household, subordinates and adjutants who have followed him for years, and masters at Kunxu who will protect him no matter what. But I... I only have A-jie."
His words were a bit of a logical leap, a piece of sophistry, but Qin Jiuye couldn't bring herself to refute them.
Deep down, didn't she also crave this kind of unreserved, absolute love? She possessed this youth’s whole, burning heart, yet she had to tell him that beyond this, there were more important things in life.
Though, to this day, she couldn't quite explain what those things were.
He cared for her too much; he didn't just see her as a part of his broken life, but as the entirety of his existence. If letting go meant losing her forever, he would never let go again.
"Right now, you might only have me, but one day you will be rich in spirit and possess much. No one can make another person their entire world."
"Then A-jie should have told me that when she was teaching me everything, shouldn't she? Why wait until..."
Why wait until he had no path of retreat? Why wait until he could no longer walk in the darkness alone? Why wait until he had tasted the sweetness of that sugar cake before telling him all this?
The youth’s questioning was laced with heartache, as if accusing a cruel, unfaithful lover. She stared at him blankly for a long time before lowering her head.
"Perhaps because... I am also learning many things as I go."
Her past life had indeed taught her much and forged her character, but she had not then experienced the treachery of the martial world, the miles of exile, the century-old mysteries... or the passing of her last kin.
"Since we've left the city and returned to Guoran Ju, why can't we forget everything outside? Why can't we just stay here and live our own lives?"
"Jiugao is my home. Dingweng Village is my home. If our home is gone, how are we supposed to live our lives?"
"If Jiugao is gone, we can go elsewhere. Why must it be here? The Qiu family, Kunxu, the Jinshi Bureau—there are so many people out there. Why must it be you? Why did the heavens let us suffer when the world was at peace, never sparing us a thought, only to expect us to step forward when the world needs saving? To me, A-jie is everything. I only need to protect you. Is it not the same for A-jie?"
His light brown eyes stared at her, filled with longing, fragility, and adoration. It felt as if the moment she said "no," he would shatter before her.
Looking into those eyes, a corner of her heart stirred. She asked instinctively, "When we were at Bobo Street today, did something else happen?"
Her sharp intuition surpassed even the top experts of the martial world, always able to pierce through his layers of disguise to strike his weakness. He knew this well, which was why he had been rehearsing this moment in his mind.
The paper flower had been destroyed by his hand, yet it felt as if it were still pressed against his waist like a poisonous thorn. The sender had left no name, and he didn't recognize the handwriting, but a powerful instinct had already given him the answer.
It was a message from Ding Miao.
That faceless enemy who held a grudge against him and had orchestrated everything.
The message was simple: *The Winter Solstice is the deadline. Blood for blood. If you do not comply, I will come for those by your side.* He didn't know what other schemes Ding Miao had, and he didn't care what the man was thinking. But he could not leave her unprotected. His karmic debts were his to pay. If his past had dragged her into this, then even if the enemy summoned him to hell to settle the score, he had to go.
As much as he disdained the demands in that letter, his fear after losing her in the crowd had been even stronger. He thought that if she refused to return to the city, he would take her and flee to a place where no one could find them. But she would not do that, so he could only choose to face it.
Perhaps the alternative ending on Qionghu Island was a fate he could not escape.
These thoughts thundered through his mind in an instant. The hand clenched in his sleeve slowly relaxed. When he looked up again, he had regained his composure.
"I was just frustrated because I couldn't find you."
The woman didn't speak. her gaze lingered on his features for a moment, as if weighing whether he had more to say.
But he ultimately missed his last chance. A moment later, she withdrew her gaze and patted his shoulder playfully.
"Back at Baoshen Pavilion, didn't you also leave me behind? Consider us even." She paused, then suggested cautiously, "If you're worried, why don't you just stay by my side? With your skills, what could possibly happen that you couldn't handle?"
She meant to praise him, but he felt no joy.
"A-jie is far too confident. How can you be so certain I will always follow you? So certain I will obey your every word? So certain that no matter what you decide, I will agree without doubt?" He spoke with the coldness of their first meeting, a sharpness that cut through the air. "What you do has nothing to do with me. If you insist on returning to the city, then let us go our separate ways. It would be better for both of us."
To make her stay, he was willing to use every trick he had, even if it meant hurting her.
After a long silence, he heard her sigh softly. "If that is truly what you feel, I cannot force you."
The sound of rustling fabric followed. The shoulder pressed against his went cold; her warmth withdrew rapidly.
The wood in the hearth seemed to have dimmed; it needed to be turned. Qin Jiuye leaned over, but before her hand could reach the poker, she was pulled into a tight embrace from behind.
"No, that's not it." His voice sounded in her ear, thick with grievance and reluctance. "I was just talking out of anger. I just don't want you to go."
He had vastly overestimated himself. He couldn't even endure a moment of separation, misunderstanding, or coldness, yet he had tried to play at being aloof. He was more certain than she was that he would lose, for it was always he who was pleading—pleading for the grace the gods had given him to last just a little longer.
She gently took his hands wrapped around her and interlaced her fingers with his, firm and unyielding.
"I promise you, just this last time. When this is over, we will return to the village, return to Guoran Ju, and live here forever and ever."
"Why did A-jie come back to the village today?" he asked dully, his words sharp and allowing no evasion. "Isn't it because you also have a premonition that this 'last time' will be very hard to end?"
Her hand faltered, but she didn't want to show him any sorrow or exhaustion—at least not tonight.
"No. Everything will pass."
Her voice was as steady as ever. He fell completely silent, like someone who knew he was being lied to but chose to remain deluded. He knew that the more submissive and obedient he appeared, the more guilty she would feel. Sure enough, she nudged closer to him, wrapping herself and him together in the patched quilt. She asked with a hint of appeasement:
"What do you want to do? Tonight, consider your shopkeeper generous for once. Whatever you want to do, I'll stay with you."
He had succeeded. He looked up, feigning innocence. "What do ordinary couples do before they go to sleep?"
She had never been a wife to anyone else; how would she know? But between a husband and wife, wasn't it just...
Qin Jiuye froze, her face flushing crimson. She could only use the roaring fire as a shield. When she failed to speak for a long time, he grew suspicious.
"Does A-jie not know either? Then perhaps I should take the lead. I've read a bit of Brother Situ’s *Collection of the Flower Ruins*..."
*Collection of the Flower Ruins*? Absolutely not!
"Combing hair!"
She blurted out the first answer that came to mind, even though she found it ridiculous herself. Never mind couples, who made combing hair the very last thing they did before sleep? But she had to stand by it.
"Yes, ordinary couples comb each other's hair before bed."
He pursed his lips, clearly unwilling to accept this answer. But the old wooden comb was already placed between them, polished smooth from years of use. The woman pulled out the copper mirror he had given her and set it aside. Her cramped fingers curled and uncurled before she finally grabbed the comb with the resolve of someone facing execution, then gently untied the ribbon binding the youth’s hair.
Her fingers moved softly through his hair, and those strands were like lute strings, tugging at his sensitive, delicate spirit, plucking out a grand, distant melody like the sound of the tide.
Turmoil and unease, the unknown and fear, even the very meaning of survival—all of it drained from his body in an instant.
He slowly closed his eyes.
The wind outside stopped. The first ray of morning sunlight hit his face, bright and warm.
The air carried the faint scent of mint and the smell of burnt wood. Outside the window, the crisp chirping of young birds could be heard.
The night spent sleeping in each other's arms passed. She woke from her dream, her slowly opening lashes casting a faint shadow, her dark, bright eyes reflecting his smile.
She led him from the bed, pushed open the door, and stepped into a courtyard filled with the brilliant sun of spring.
The earth beneath their feet was soft; flowers and grass were growing well. He didn't recognize them, so she told him their names one by one.
She plucked a flower and placed it in his palm. The soft heart of the flower swelled, and in the blink of an eye, it became a bright red, plump fruit. In another blink, soft, light white flakes began to fall upon the fruit.
It was snowing.
He looked up and saw newly built snowmen in the courtyard. One tall, one short; one male, one female—a perfect pair.
He looked down at his palm again. The fruit sprouted a tender bud, and the bud became a flower once more.
Flowers withered and bloomed, bloomed and withered.
Their shadows lengthened, then shortened, then lengthened again.
He saw lines appearing on his palm, and when he looked up, he saw silver threads appearing in her hair.
He tightened his grip, holding her hand firmly in his.
Side by side, hand in hand, they sat back down quietly on the bed.
The north wind began to howl outside again.
There was no sunlight in the room, but their joined hands were steady and warm.
He turned to look at her, and she happened to be peeking at him from the corner of her eye. Two gazes that had traversed long years intertwined and met. In the next moment, they both laughed.
"There."
The woman whispered in his ear, her nimble hands leaving his hair.
Li Qiao blinked. Those beautiful visions of a life already lived vanished like mist. His vision refocused on the present.
A small, simple, warm home that belonged only to her and him. He could hardly tell if this was reality or a dream he had fantasized about countless times but which had always been out of reach. For a moment, he even hoped the end of the world had arrived; then he would never have to experience the future, and could simply embrace his beloved until the end of time in this most ordinary of nights.
It turned out that from the moment of his birth until now, his greatest wish was simply to live one day like an ordinary person.
To wake up early like an ordinary person, to buy rice and boil porridge like an ordinary person, to work at sunrise and rest at sunset like an ordinary person. To grow old in the long passage of years like an ordinary person.
He had imagined countless times what kind of life he would lead if they could safely pass this ordeal and have an ordinary, long-lasting future. He should have had plenty of time to verify his fantasies, but he knew that perhaps his time was running out.
Then let him feel it briefly—just for a moment. Perhaps he would find it wasn't so good, perhaps he would grow bored from the start; then there would be no more regrets.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. Once the taste of the sugar cake had been sampled, it could never be forgotten.
Something cool landed on her face. The woman seemed to sense something and looked up at the roof.
They had patched so many tiles that there were now more patches than original tiles.
A sudden leak of rainwater fell through the gaps, bright and pitter-pattering, accumulating on the warped floor tile in the center of the room. Soon, there was a small puddle.
"Why is it leaking again?"
She sighed simply, thinking for some reason of the broken tile at Guoran Ju when they first met. She was about to laugh and ask him if he remembered, but she froze when her gaze returned to him.
She touched his cheek. Her fingertip met a slightly hot moisture—a temperature that winter rain could never possess.
"Why are you crying again?"
"It's enough..." His voice held a suppressed sob, tears sliding down his face to wet her fingertip. "...For me, it's already enough."
He took her fingertip into his mouth, kissing it gently. Moisture and heat climbed inch by inch up her thin, sensitive skin. The woman’s hand, with nowhere else to go, hesitated for a moment before finally wrapping around the youth’s body. Sometimes her hand wandered over the scarred skin of his back, sometimes it clutched messily at his white neck. His long hair turned into silken threads of passion, tangling around her fingers and refusing to let go. The hair she had just tied up came undone once more. She seemed to murmur a low complaint, but it was instantly dissolved by his heat, turning into a soft moan that echoed within the warm walls.
The night was very long, yet the night was also very short.
Long enough for lovers to harvest a lifetime's worth of longing, yet short enough that every hour, every minute, and every second was irrecoverable.
Even if they could only have this one night, it would be as if they had lived through ten thousand years.
He should be content.
***
