Chapter 69

The moment Qing Zhouxue took the medicine bowl, a wisp of white smoke curled up, and the calico cat slipped away from her leg, its tail hooking the door shut as it went.

She carefully set the bowl aside, then helped Yun Shuchen sit up. It took some effort, as Yun Shuchen's body was soft and yielding, like noodles that couldn't be scooped up.

Finally, Yun Shuchen opened her eyes again and propped herself up a little higher, with half of her disciple soon filling the space between her and the headboard, giving her something comfortable to lean against.

When Qing Zhouxue picked up the medicine, the cold air that seeped from her palm quickly cooled it to lukewarm, just right for drinking.

She searched through her ring and, while feeding her the medicine, did not forget to pop a candied fruit into her master's mouth.

Yun Shuchen felt the bitterness spread over her tongue first, followed by a familiar sweet aftertaste.

If a person's life were like this—bitter first, then sweet—that would be wonderful indeed. The bitter moments made one frown for a while, but once the bitterness was gone, the sweetness would not be cloying.

With such an idle thought, she leaned closer to her disciple.

"How did you catch a chill today, Master? Was there a draft from the window?" Just as Yun Shuchen was closing her eyes to fall into a peaceful sleep, she heard her disciple ask from beside her.

"I'm not sure."

The words came out in a barely audible whisper.

Seeing how drowsy she looked, Qing Zhouxue fell silent, channeling her cultivation to dispel the cold. Yun Shuchen still moved from time to time, as if to ease the unavoidable trembling.

For some reason, every time Qing Zhouxue pressed close to channel her energy, the bone-deep chill would stall, then dissipate like silk being pulled away.

A chance encounter? Fate?

These words drifted through her mind, linked like a gourd and its ladle—press one down, and the other bobbed up.

At last, the trembling ceased, and she fell asleep against a cool, fragrant scent.

To Qing Zhouxue, her master's illness seemed quite peculiar. Fearing she might have developed some new ailment, she observed her day and night. The illness dragged on, and it took several full days before the fever finally broke.

These days, Yun Shuchen was quite content. To put it extravagantly, clothes came to her hand and food to her mouth; she would have loved being waited on hand and foot by her disciple.

She actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Even at her age—old enough to be a great-great-grandmother—she was happy to be spoiled like this. She might feel a twinge of shame now and then, but she only kept it to herself, never letting it show.

And so, with this contradictory frame of mind, Yun Shuchen managed to drag her illness out for a few extra days.

Qing Zhouxue did not find it troublesome. In fact, she had few joys in life, and Yun Shuchen and all things concerning her occupied a substantial part of those joys.

Today, there was no snow, and the weather had improved. The winter sunlight, rare as it was, did not warm the skin. It scattered over a thin layer of snow, reflecting off the white fields and mountains.

Yun Shuchen said she had been cooped up indoors for days without even stepping out the door, and she insisted on getting some fresh air.

Naturally, Qing Zhouxue went with her.

She did not take in the scenery. Instead, she watched Yun Shuchen, and as she looked, she frowned. "Master, your complexion is still a bit pale."

Yun Shuchen had only recovered from her fever a few days ago, and wrapped in her disciple's outer robe, she looked even more bloodless against the stark white snow. She let out a soft sigh. "I'm much better now. By the way, I noticed you seemed to have something on your mind these past few days. Is there something you wanted to say to me?"

Yun Shuchen had a feeling that when Qing Zhouxue was about to speak, she would swallow the words back down.

Now that she had been asked directly, Qing Zhouxue paused, then looked up into her master's eyes, a lingering concern still weighing on her mind.

"...Master, do you think it's okay for two women to be together?" Her gaze did not waver.

Her master was first taken aback, then glanced at her as if recalling something. Without changing her expression, she asked in return, "Do you think it's okay?"

"I don't understand why others criticize it," Qing Zhouxue answered promptly, "but I think if two people love each other, then it's very good."

That was not entirely unexpected.

A gust of wind stirred up bits of snow, which landed on Yun Shuchen's temple. Qing Zhouxue, having just said that, reached up to gently flick them away.

When Yun Shuchen looked up, she caught a small reflection in her disciple's eyes—her own. The world was a vast expanse of white, yet in those eyes, she carried no other colors but one: herself.

A small flame began to burn warmly in her heart, out of nowhere. The suspicion that had plagued her for so long, after all this circling, finally showed signs of surfacing under that focused gaze.

"Then does Qing'er like your junior sister?"

Yun Shuchen herself did not know with what feeling she had spoken those words.

Qing Zhouxue's brow furrowed slightly, and she did not speak at once.

Yun Shuchen saw the hesitation on her face, and the little flame that had just caught in her heart seemed to be doused by the cold wind, clearing her head abruptly. She gave a soft cough, curving her lips. "Quite the deep-rooted attachment, I see."

To her surprise, her disciple looked confused and asked, "Which junior sister does Master mean? Or all junior sisters?"

There were many junior sisters, both in the outer and inner sects. In the inner sect, there was Ruan Mingzhu, and a few others who had entered at the same time, but none she associated with closely. In the outer sect, all female disciples were junior sisters, including Yu Ying.

Yun Shuchen had thrown out such an expansive term, and her wooden disciple now began a rigorous and measured consideration.

Hearing this ridiculous question, Yun Shuchen froze for a moment, then a hint of coldness crept into her expression. The flame guttered and died, and even she lost patience. She said flatly, "Ruan Mingzhu."

"She's all right. Though she can be a bit noisy at times," Qing Zhouxue answered quickly.

All right.

If she asked whether Qing'er liked her and got an "all right" in response, Yun Shuchen thought to herself, she would certainly want to throw her off Yimeng Cliff again.

She no longer wanted to press the question. Asking this icy little beauty would likely yield the same result, and she would only end up with a chest ache from frustration.

With a mental snort, Yun Shuchen tossed out a "I'm tired," and swept back indoors.

"But I feel like something's off." Her sleeve, however, was caught by Qing Zhouxue at some point. The girl seemed unconsciously to clutch the fabric, still frowning in thought. "Master, I don't think my feelings for Junior Sister Ruan are like the sisters in those stories."

"Mm." Yun Shuchen turned her head slightly, not facing her. "Different how?"

"I don't want to kiss her cheek or her neck, nor do I want to share a bed with her and take off my clothes..." Qing Zhouxue's brows knitted deeper as she tried to recall the vague images from the storybooks.

Yun Shuchen felt her face grow hot. She had barely heard a line or two before scolding, "Stop. You... need not list all the 'not wants.'"

Qing Zhouxue obediently fell silent.

Her words were faltering, but clear enough. Yun Shuchen kept her back to her, and in her heart, a thin layer of frost seemed to melt away, the creases smoothing out at last.

Indeed, perfectly smooth.

She walked back into the room without looking back. She suddenly felt sorry for herself, having gone through that illness. But though she pitied herself, she did not feel miserable at all. Instead, a hidden anticipation, like seeking spring by brushing away snow, quietly sprouted in the bitter winter.

In the end, her eyes curved into a silent smile, which she didn't want her disciple to see, so the moment she crossed the threshold, she shut the door with a slap.

Her disciple, caught off guard and shut out for no reason, almost bumped her forehead against the door.

"Master?"

She knocked, but there was no response.

Yun Shuchen leaned against the door, composed her expression, only then reopening it. Nonchalantly, she said, "Come in."

*

When bedtime came, Qing Zhouxue suddenly remembered—she had been the one to ask her master first. But she hadn't answered; instead, she turned the question around, somehow entangling Qing Zhouxue in the conversation without her noticing anything amiss.

Seeing it was still early, Yun Shuchen smiled and asked, "Want to read some storybooks?"

"..." Qing Zhouxue was stunned. Her master had said earlier that reading this kind of thing was bad for her and had confiscated them. Why had her attitude changed all of a sudden?

Yun Shuchen cleared her throat. "Back then you were young. Now you're twenty-one. Reading a bit won't hurt."

Though Qing Zhouxue did not understand how a mere two or three years could make her suddenly grown up, some of the storybooks her master had collected did pique her interest.

She thought of the oath she had once made and wavered for a good while.

In the end, she held to her principles, shook her head, and merely said, "Master hasn't answered my earlier question."

"That question?" The woman repeated the three words, watching her leisurely. "Why are you asking that?"

"Because I don't know," Qing Zhouxue said. "I worry Master might hate me for wanting to be so close to you all the time. Like in the storybooks, I realize not everyone is like me—some girls think it's improper."

So she was afraid I'd think so too, wasn't she?

Yun Shuchen suddenly understood the coldness and caution her disciple had shown in recent days. What a long way this girl had gone to avoid the thought.

It seemed she hadn't talked enough with her. But then again, that little quiet one had never shown any signs of opening up since childhood; it wasn't something formed overnight.

"Does Qing'er think I would dislike it?" She smiled, determined to keep her hanging today, and effortlessly tossed the question back.

"I don't know." Qing Zhouxue rolled over to face her, and with a soft sigh, her voice, crystal-clear, echoed by Yun Shuchen's ear, "Master's mind is hard to read. Sometimes I guess wrong, and I don't dare to ask you directly."

"Indeed, it's not right. You've grown up by my side, day and night together, and you don't even know," Yun Shuchen paused, looking at her, "that I like women."

Her disciple froze again, then shook her head honestly.

That earned her a pinch at the soft of her waist from Yun Shuchen—she was ticklish there—and Qing Zhouxue flinched with a big reaction, unable to help but laugh. She didn't know if she laughed because of the tickling or because of genuine joy at Yun Shuchen's words. In any case, the anxious feeling that had plagued her finally settled, and she returned to that state of effortless closeness with Yun Shuchen.

Before long, though, Yun Shuchen found herself back in that painfully sweet torture.

Qing Zhouxue wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing her whole body close. This time, she did not spare a thought for propriety, and following her heart, she rested her chin on her master's shoulder.

Yun Shuchen went rigid, and the warm breath ghosting over her neck made her whole body feel askew, a fire kindled in that intimate space. But Qing Zhouxue only lay there, her eyes closing peacefully.

She could tell that this gesture was simply one of closeness, most likely unintentional.

Yet, an unintentional breeze slips through the hall.