Chapter 33

At Heyi Peak, Qing Zhouxue read out a long list of names in front of Yun Shuchen. Yun Shuchen propped her chin on her hand and stopped her after just a few names.

"Give them all to you. Just don't use these in front of outer sect disciples; it wouldn't look good if they saw them."

Aside from trinkets and tokens, there were stacks of letters. Yun Shuchen, with nothing better to do, skimmed a few, smiled, and set them aside, saying to Qing Zhouxue, "Reply to these for me."

Reply? Qing Zhouxue looked up, astonished. "How should I reply?"

"How else but to refuse? It just so happens you'll be tested on classics and prose soon; consider this practice."

After entering the inner sect, the curriculum deepened. To keep disciples from becoming illiterate brutes or narrow-minded specialists, the founding ancestors had long established traditions. Every ten years, several courses were taught by the six peak elders and the Sect Leader. The standards weren't high, but all inner disciples had to pass; otherwise, they'd retake it next cycle.

The outer sect had too many people, a mixed lot that was hard to manage, so this was an inner sect privilege. In the first year, they studied within their own field; from the second year, they had to take other subjects.

Courses included sword dao, alchemy, formations, sound cognition, artifact refinement, and talismans. In recent years, exams on prose and Daoist classics had been added.

Qing Zhouxue had been in the sect for nearly a year, and the exams were fast approaching.

Since her master had said so, she raised no objection. Carrying the pile of letters, she sat in the pavilion and replied one by one.

【Elder Yun, though I lost in the last inner sect competition, I've always believed that smile you gave me that day was a sign of hope for my future... In the next ten years, I'll work hard, pass the inner sect exam, and not let you down. The mountain has trees, the trees have branches; my heart is glad for you, but you don't know it. Though you may never accept someone as humble as me, at least...】

Qing Zhouxue read through it painfully. She dipped her brush in ink, spread a fresh sheet, paused, and found herself at a loss.

After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, four characters appeared: "Keep up the good work." That didn't seem clear enough as a refusal. After long deliberation, she added two more: "Do not disturb."

She let out a long breath and opened the next. It was from a young girl, handwriting neat, tone lively and bold: 【This is my first time sending you a gift; I don't know what you like. I thought and thought, and wished I could pack myself up and have the senior sister send me over...】

Qing Zhouxue read only the opening and quickly wrote: No need; she's not accepting such services at the moment.

The next had enormous characters, each looking like it weighed several pounds, likely from a rugged man. 【My home is on the northwest slope of the city outskirts. I hear Elder Yun also lives on the northwest peak of Taichu. Heh, that might be fate. Could you give me a chance?】

Where does such confidence come from? Qing Zhouxue frowned and wrote: The letter has been delivered; fate is over.

It had to be said, aside from some odd contents, some people—especially the girls—wrote quite well, pouring out tender feelings mixed with the shy anticipation of a secret crush.

【Every time I see you from afar in the great hall, I hope for just a look, even a casual glance, enough to make me happy for a long while, and see all things without worry.】

Reading this, Qing Zhouxue paused.

She read the lines several more times, catching a faint, familiar feeling.

She was the same—since childhood, she too had craved that attention.

【Though it's pointless, I can't help but care about everything about you. Are you healthy? Are you in good spirits? Sometimes I look at the full moon in the sky, and with the sect being so busy, has the elder already gone to bed?】

The letter paper in Qing Zhouxue's hand crumpled. She was that way too—unable to stop worrying about whether she was warm or cold, afraid she might fall ill somewhere unwell.

A whiff of Jiuhe incense drifted from behind, the common scent of Heyi Peak.

Qing Zhouxue, dazed, met a pair of incredibly soft, affectionate eyes, like flowing mist and clouds.

"What are you thinking about?"

She tightened her grip on the brush, came to her senses, and instinctively called out, "Master."

"Thinking of me?" Yun Shuchen smiled.

Somehow, her heart felt tangled in wisps of cloud and smoke, indistinct. Qing Zhouxue let out a soft "Mm," realized her word had created ambiguity, and felt uneasy.

Yun Shuchen had already circled behind her, her fingertip tapping on the paper. After reading a line, she said meaningfully, "Truly lacking."

"Master, lacking what?"

"Your language." Yun Shuchen let out a light sigh. "Such a large sheet of paper, yet you can only squeeze out these few words. I recall you've read quite a few books?"

This didn't seem related to how many books she'd read. When Qing Zhouxue took the inner sect written exam, her essays were clear and polished.

Perhaps she simply didn't feel much; her emotions were too faint and shallow.

A lack of words is a sign of a lack of feeling.

"If this were an exam, your sparse prose would probably not pass."

Qing Zhouxue was troubled; she truly didn't know what she could write. Seeing her still lost in thought, Yun Shuchen kindly offered a topic, casually pointing at a koi in the lake.

"How about describing that?"

Meeting her master's encouraging gaze, Qing Zhouxue paused for a long moment, then said without confidence, "...A fish."

Yun Shuchen paused too. "It is a fish. Can you describe it in more detail?"

"Fish," Qing Zhouxue scraped together every word she knew, and finally said dryly, "Koi."

Yun Shuchen shifted her hand to her forehead, seeming on the verge of laughter but holding it in. In a gentle tone, like coaxing a child learning to speak, she asked softly, "And what is the little koi doing?"

Qing Zhouxue caught the teasing in her words and answered in a muffled voice, "Moving."

"My disciple." Yun Shuchen finally couldn't hold back a laugh. "If you had at least said 'swimming,' that would show a bit more spirit, not be so bland."

"Never mind. Perhaps you have no feeling for fish." She considerately switched topics. "How about describing me instead?"

At this, Qing Zhouxue's heart seemed to curl slightly again.

She slowly raised her eyelashes, her gaze moving inch by inch across her lips, her elegant nose, her misty eyes and willow brows—the woman sat upright, looking at her, gentle and vivid.

There were things she desperately wanted to say, to describe, but couldn't find the words for.

Qing Zhouxue opened her mouth, then fell silent.

Just as Yun Shuchen expected her to say something bland like "pretty" or "not bad"—

The disciple instead said softly:

"Peerlessly elegant."

* * *

This phrase pleased Yun Shuchen quite a bit, and so she decided to make her disciple happy as well by excusing her from replying to letters—replacing it with a requirement to record some trivial matters of daily life each day.

Thus, Qing Zhouxue's dull routine of sword practice, cultivation, and reading gained a new task: sitting at her desk each day, pondering for a long time, unable to put down a single stroke.

The weather turned cold, and winter arrived again.

One day, a chill wind blew, and half of Heyi Peak turned white.

This was the time of year Qing Zhouxue paid most attention to. The other was summer, when the sultry heat made Yun Shuchen easily uncomfortable.

In the cold, she caught chills easily, so she had to be careful about keeping warm. But the woman's face was hidden within a thick fox-fur coat, and when her palm touched it, it was still bone-chillingly cold.

This winter was especially cold.

Yun Shuchen's frail constitution couldn't be compensated for by cultivation; the only option was to keep the room as warm as possible. A blazing fire was lit, but at night, cold wind still sneaked in through the windows.

When Qing Zhouxue went to deliver medicine, she happened upon a time when the room was dim and Yun Shuchen had already retired. She quietly set down the medicine bowl and walked toward the bed.

Her master was curled up in the quilt, still frowning, seeming not to sleep well, curled into a ball, shivering from time to time.

These past days, she indeed looked exhausted; even meticulous makeup couldn't hide the paleness of her face.

Qing Zhouxue thought for a moment, then went to bathe, using quite hot water. After emerging with the steam still rising from her body, she removed her outer robe, leaving only a thin inner garment, and slipped into Yun Shuchen's bedding.

Yun Shuchen was startled, but then felt a pair of arms encircle her waist, warm and comforting.

"Master, will this help a bit?"

Yun Shuchen froze for a moment, then frowned. "Why did you come up here?"

"I saw you shivering from the cold."

Qing Zhouxue's leg brushed hers, and she felt her skin was icy all over—no wonder the quilt wouldn't warm up.

Cold starts from the feet. Qing Zhouxue had heard the saying; she shifted her body downward slightly, grasped her ankle, and sure enough, it was freezing.

She let out a soft inward sigh.

Yun Shuchen's whole body stiffened as a faint, dense tickle spread from her ankle, and then it was lifted slightly; Qing Zhouxue shifted to hold her calf, warming her feet against her soft, warm belly.

"Warmed like this, it will be a bit better."

The girl's voice was faint, yet it brought boundless warmth to the receiver.

Yun Shuchen raised her eyelashes, but in the end said nothing, and closed them again peacefully.

Qing Zhouxue's embrace was warm, her body temperature unusually high. Yun Shuchen caught the faint scent of soap pod on her and roughly understood why.

This foolish girl...

Not even minding the hot water.

Yun Shuchen hadn't slept well for days and was in desperate need of rest. Now, with a heat source, she indeed felt her whole body blissfully sink as if into a thousand soft cotton clouds, drowsy and heavy.

Her disciple seemed to have broken into a fine sweat from the warmth. Yun Shuchen felt a vague, hazy displeasure—don't let her end up going to Lingsu Peak to drink medicine before she's even sick herself.

She turned over and pulled the person up. In the faint, clear moonlight, her face became even more radiant and ethereal. Yun Shuchen was extremely drowsy; in her haze, her heart stirred, and she slowly leaned over, embracing her.

Qing Zhouxue felt a lip press against her forehead, and then she heard her say softly, "Sleep."