He Sui’an rubbed her eyes, her skin even redder, and said again, “Untie the ribbon.”
He Hua understood.
She reached up to untie the silk ribbon from He Sui’an’s hair.
Before He Hua’s hand could touch the crimson ribbon, He Sui’an mumbled with her head drooping, “Qi Buyan, help me, untie the ribbon.”
As soon as she finished speaking, He Sui’an skillfully turned around, sitting cross-legged with her back to He Hua, making it easier for He Hua to untie the ribbon binding her hair. He Sui’an still emitted a faint, pleasant fragrance.
Untying the ribbon was typically something done before going to bed, a routine task they…
He Hua felt slightly surprised.
Despite her surprise, He Hua gently untied all the ribbons from He Sui’an’s hair. Unexpectedly, He Sui’an’s head tilted, hitting the wall beside her. She whimpered in pain, looking pitiful.
He Hua quickly rubbed the bumped spot on He Sui’an’s forehead. Fortunately, it wasn’t too severe, just a little red, and would likely fade by the next morning.
He Sui’an lay back down on the bed, muttering, “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He Hua’s eyes seemed to ask what the secret was.
But she didn’t hear it.
He Sui’an fell asleep, her secret seemingly sinking into the depths of the ocean. He Hua tidied up and put away the ribbons, thoughtfully tucking her in.
The Shaodaozi continued to burn within He Sui’an, making her sleep fitful. She had a dream.
In the dream, He Sui’an saw her parents. Tearfully, she hugged them and cried, recounting what she had been through recently, including being hit on the head. She also expressed her fear that the outcome wouldn’t change.
Her mother didn’t say anything, just held her lovingly, patting her back and helping her catch her breath as she sobbed.
No matter how old one gets, they always feel like a child in front of their parents, especially He Sui’an.
She sobbed and sobbed.
Crying for who knows how long, He Sui’an eventually fell asleep even in her dream.
The next morning, He Sui’an woke up with puffy eyes. She was startled when she looked in the mirror and quickly turned to ask He Hua what had happened last night, worried that she might have done something foolish while drunk.
He Hua picked up a pen and wrote: “Miss He, you didn’t do anything. You were very well-behaved even when drunk. You just bit the quilt and cried a lot in the middle of the night. Did you dream of something sad?”
He Sui’an shook her head.
He Hua put down the pen.
The hour was already late, nearing the end of the morning. Although the rain hadn’t stopped, He Hua had found someone to take her to Chang’an. It was a villager whom Auntie Cui had asked for help, someone trustworthy.
The villager’s child was ill. After the village doctor diagnosed the child, he found that he was missing a crucial herb for the treatment. They intended to venture into Chang’an to buy the medicine and agreed to take He Hua along the way.
This morning, while He Sui’an was still sleeping, He Hua had packed her bags.
Now, she was just waiting for the villagers to set off.
Upon learning this, He Sui’an stood up and asked if there was anything else she could help with. He Hua made a simple gesture indicating “no,” as all the necessary packing had already been done.
They hadn’t stayed in the room for long before the villager came to fetch He Hua.
It was time to leave.
He Hua immediately wrote a note thanking Auntie Cui for taking her in and asked He Sui’an to convey her gratitude, also thanking He Sui’an. She then picked up her bundles and walked out. The bundle containing books was too heavy, and she dropped it.
There were two bundles in total: one for clothes and other items, and one for books.
He Sui’an went over to pick it up.
She avoided He Hua’s outstretched hand, knowing that He Hua didn’t want to trouble her, but it was a small matter, just helping to carry something outside. “It’s fine. I’ll help you carry it outside.”
The rain had lessened outside, and the villager stood by the ox cart, wearing a straw raincoat and holding another one, which was for He Hua.
Auntie Cui leaned out from the house, watching.
She seemed to be looking a bit better.
He Hua couldn’t bid them farewell verbally, so she nodded to each of them. He Sui’an watched as He Hua, now wearing the straw raincoat, got on the ox cart, waving her hand. “Miss He Hua, may we meet again someday.”
The ox cart slowly moved away, gradually disappearing into the rain. He Sui’an turned back, only to meet Auntie Cui’s inquisitive gaze.
“Did you cry last night?” Auntie Cui asked.
He Sui’an felt a bit embarrassed, twisting her fingers on her clothes. “Did I disturb you?”
Auntie Cui laughed. “Not at all. I just noticed your eyes… Hmm, you should put something on them when you have time. It’s normal to cry and make a fuss when you’re drunk. You’re actually quite good compared to others.”
Ah Xuan came out from the back kitchen. He had been away, preparing medicine for Auntie Cui. Now, he brought it out for her. “Auntie Cui, here’s your medicine.”
Auntie Cui frowned as she drank it.
Few people in the world enjoy drinking medicine; most people hate it. Auntie Cui was one of them. If Ah Xuan hadn’t insisted on her drinking the medicine, she probably wouldn’t have taken it to recuperate.
After finishing the medicine, Auntie Cui went back to her room, and He Sui’an, seeing she had nothing else to do, also returned to her room.
During this time, she couldn’t go anywhere freely and had to stay put, but she occasionally helped Auntie Cui borrow firewood, rice, oil, and salt from the villagers. Being new arrivals, they weren’t fully prepared.
When she had nothing to do, He Sui’an lay on the bed, tearing paper and folding butterflies out of boredom. She had already made a small pile of paper butterflies.
She pushed the paper butterflies aside, walked to the window, and opened it to look at the rain outside.
The rain had hardly stopped.
She wondered how Qi Buyan was doing. She had written everything she wanted to say in a letter. The letter to Su Yang and the others was only two or three pages long, but the one to Qi Buyan was a full six pages.
—
The rainy night was gloomy, filled with a chill.
Qi Buyan left the tower and returned to the Princess’ Mansion. The guards at the gate, drowsy with sleep, saw a figure in indigo entering and immediately became alert. But when they recognized the face, they refrained from drawing their sabers.
Inside the main hall, Princess Luoyan was pacing with her hands behind her back. She was soon to be married off to the Nanliang Kingdom, but how could she marry into another country without avenging her brother and sister-in-law’s deaths?
Unable to personally kill Liu Yan, Princess Luoyan felt she could not die in peace. No, she had to find a way.
Zhi Mo, who was serving by her side, faced the hall entrance. Seeing Qi Buyan pass by outside, she respectfully called out, “Young Master Qi.”
Princess Luoyan looked out.
Qi Buyan had returned alone; He Sui’an was not with him. This puzzled Princess Luoyan. What business were they attending to that He Sui’an hadn’t returned by nightfall? It was dangerous outside.
“Young Master Qi, why didn’t Miss He come back with you?” Unable to resist, she asked about their affairs. Noticing Qi Buyan’s wet clothes, she added, “She didn’t run into trouble, did she?”
Qi Buyan replied, “No.”
Relieved, Princess Luoyan asked, “Then where has Miss He gone?”
“She will return,” Qi Buyan said, not directly answering her question. His face bore a faint smile, and although his clothes were soaked, he did not appear disheveled. In fact, the silver accessories he wore gave him an air of nobility.
Princess Luoyan felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint what: “She will return?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Naturally pale, Qi Buyan looked unnaturally white after being drenched, like a ghost emerging from the underworld. Fortunately, his striking appearance subdued the pallor, leaving him only more captivating.
Princess Luoyan felt uneasy but couldn’t articulate why: “Alright.”
Qi Buyan returned to his room.
Closing the door, he took out clean clothes and placed the bone flute from his waist on the table. He then untied his sword knot, shedding his rain-soaked indigo garments.
The young man had broad shoulders and long legs, with well-defined muscles along his waist and abdomen. After removing all his wet clothes, he put on fresh ones. The wound on his wrist, untreated and exposed to the rain, had turned white.
The room was very quiet, with only the faint sounds of Qi Buyan dressing.
The window was open, and several snakes crawled inside.
He sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing over the small holes of the bone flute. His wet hair draped down to his waist, his profile illuminated by the candlelight, the shadows flickering across his face, making him look like a serene statue of a deity.
A red snake coiled itself on the blanket by the window, exhausted from a day’s search.
Qi Buyan walked over to the red snake, extending his wrist with the wound caused by the Heavenly Silkworm threads. As soon as it smelled the blood infused with the Heavenly Silkworm’s essence, it perked up but hesitated to drink.
“Drink,” Qi Buyan said softly. His tone was gentle yet instilled fear in the snake, making even the red snake wary. It lowered its flat head, extending its bright red tongue to lick his wrist.
There wasn’t much blood left on the surface of his narrow wrist, most of it having been washed away by the rain, leaving only a faint scent of blood. After a few licks, the red snake stopped.
The red snake did not regain its energy.
There wasn’t enough blood.
Qi Buyan pressed his wound, causing fresh blood to flow, and the red snake extended its head to drink. After it drank, it regained its vigor and slithered away to continue its search. The silver snake also climbed onto his wrist to drink the blood.
The black snake drank last, not daring to drink too much. It took a few sips, mirroring the silver snake, and quickly crawled away once it was done.
Other venomous insects gradually returned as well.
Qi Buyan found feeding each one individually too slow, so he decided to let them drink from a bowl filled with his blood.
He lay back on the bed without closing his eyes, staring at the ceiling. After a while, he turned his head to look at the spot where He Sui’an often lay. Her scent was fading from the room and would completely vanish in a couple of days.
Having lived alone for over a decade in Tianshui Village of Miaojiang, Qi Buyan was long used to solitude. However, after taking care of He Sui’an for so long, he realized he was no longer accustomed to being alone.
A child who has tasted candy will crave its sweetness, and Qi Buyan was now craving He Sui’an.
In the past, he thought it was just his body craving He Sui’an, enjoying their intimacy immensely, beyond imagination, uncontrollably, and possessively.
But now, he realized it wasn’t just his body craving her; it was him as a person, deeply yearning for He Sui’an.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
The butterfly silver chain on his wrist brushed against his wound, staining with blood. Qi Buyan glanced at the chain with its missing piece and gently tinkled it. The sound reminded him of something.
The Miaojiang Gu book recorded: There is something in this world called the Love Gu.
It binds people with love.
They share life and death.
The one who administers the Gu can feel the life and death of the person being affected, and it makes the affected person develop endless love for the one who administered it, enduring to the end of their life.
He Sui’an had also said that love is wanting to be with someone all the time, never wanting to part from them. Qi Buyan hoped she would feel this way about him, just as he did about her.
What love is doesn’t matter.
What matters is that it can keep He Sui’an by his side forever. Thinking of this, Qi Buyan sat up, his wrist wound slightly reopening, the exposed flesh appearing eerily vivid.
Would giving He Sui’an the Love Gu make her love him like this?
Qi Buyan looked out the window.
The sound of rain persisted.
Qi Buyan wanted He Sui’an to fall in love with him.