The little maid stuck out her tongue. “They taught me. I help them turn away the people who come knocking. They teach me Central Plains things. Did you hear my Mandarin just now? Was it fluent?”
“Fluent!” the woman praised.
In the northern part of town, despite having the same soil and water, a flowering tree had somehow grown in a certain courtyard. While everywhere else was turned a golden yellow by the blowing sand, this courtyard was lush and green, with flowers lazily blooming. When the wind passed, they seemed to nod their heads with lingering affection.
A small window was half-raised, faintly revealing a figure in thin clothing.
Feng Yun’ai leaned against the window, her wrist moving slightly. She was actually using the Sorrowful Wind Fan to keep cool.
She had originally intended to give the Sorrowful Wind Fan to Yu Lao. However, before meeting with the various sects, the small box containing the fan had been hidden by Sang Chencao. She couldn’t find it anywhere, so she had gone empty-handed.
It was only after parting with the others that she learned Sang Chencao had hidden it on purpose. Sang had said the Sorrowful Wind Fan was set with Black Cold Stones, and if they ever ran low on money, they could pawn the fan.
Now, it turned out quite well. With a light flutter of the fan, even the air it stirred was cool.
Sang Chencao returned from outside and chuckled. “I didn’t teach those girls for nothing. They helped us turn away another group today. Saved us a lot of trouble.”
Feng Yun’ai was so hot she didn’t want to speak. Her collar was even slightly open, revealing a thin layer of glistening sweat on her collarbone.
“Hot?” Sang Chencao leaned over. Her entire body was radiating heat, making Feng Yun’ai feel even warmer.
Feng Yun’ai turned away in annoyance, her body nearly leaning out the window. She said gloomily, “Don’t touch me.”
Sang Chencao went so far as to grab her wrist, secretly checking her pulse. Then, she whispered in her ear, “Xiuxiu, I’ve raised you so well and taught you so much. You won’t even let me get close now?”
Feng Yun’ai paused for a moment, then turned to look at her fixedly, as if pondering something.
Sang Chencao let her look, a smile making the two moles under her eyes appear even more prominent. She looked as if her head were full of wicked ideas.
After a long while, Feng Yun’ai slowly leaned in and pressed her lips very lightly against the other’s.
Her expression was always indifferent, the ripples in her eyes fleeting, making her look like a cold-hearted person. Fortunately, her lips were not. They were so soft; a light press felt as though they would melt into sugar water, making one want to drink every last drop.
This was the first time Feng Yun’ai had initiated a kiss. Her kiss was meticulous and earnest. All the lingering affection she never showed on her face was hidden in that kiss, making the shared breath feel exceptionally tender.
Sang Chencao met her halfway, her palm stroking Feng Yun’ai’s waist. A boiling passion followed that warmth, slipping beneath Feng Yun’ai’s thin robe.
Feng Yun’ai felt as if she were soaking in hot water, her entire body suddenly going soft. She looked straight at the person in front of her and said coldly, “It was you last time, too. Have you forgotten what you said?”
Sang Chencao gave a short laugh and kissed Feng Yun’ai’s lips with a loud smack. Her eyes were dark with meaning as she said, “Xiuxiu, to each her own skills.”
The two immediately became entangled, their hands wandering over each other, leaving marks behind. The hotter and stickier it became, the harder it was to part.
It wasn’t until the sky grew dark and the hot wind outside carried a hint of coolness that Sang Chencao placed a final kiss on Feng Yun’ai’s thigh. She laughed and said, “Xiuxiu, I let you win twice just now before I took you once. You’d better remember that. Should I find a ledger to write it down?”
The person lying back had misty eyes. She trembled slightly from the kiss and panted for a long time before saying in mock anger, “I don’t want it.”
“Don’t want what?” Sang Chencao asked intentionally.
“I don’t want a ledger.” Feng Yun’ai tried to keep a cold face, but her voice couldn’t muster any chill; even her tone was soft.
Her ankle was still being held, so she simply kicked toward Sang Chencao’s chest and turned to leave.
“Xiuxiu, where are you going?” Sang Chencao hooked the Sorrowful Wind Fan from the edge of the bed and fanned it gently toward the back of Feng Yun’ai’s neck.
Feng Yun’ai was silent for a while. Her long hair was draped loosely, and her white dress was quite disheveled. She still appeared aloof, but there was no longer any loneliness in her silhouette.
“Where are we going?” Sang Chencao rested her chin on Feng Yun’ai’s shoulder.
Yes, where to?
Feng Yun’ai turned her head, her gaze clear and shallow. She said softly, “I’ve never sat in a small boat to hear the apes wail, nor have I walked through ten thousand ravines to see the sea and mountains. Are the falling maples truly like the sunset? What does it look like when the wind shakes the emerald bamboo? Have you seen all these things?”
“I have, but I wouldn’t mind seeing them again.” Sang Chencao chuckled. “We’ll go together.”
“When?” Feng Yun’ai asked.
“There’s no time like the present.”
The road to the horizon is long; they should slowly cross the mountains, tread through the green plains, occasionally listen to the sound of the tide, and watch the wild geese come and go.
After they have traveled through a thousand mountains and grown tired of looking at the green waters, they need only look at each other to walk hand in hand through the red dust once more.
A smile in the mortal world, and even the heavens would be envious.
