Chapter 80

The scenery of Azure Cloud Abbey was quite beautiful—cloud seas, starry skies, clear winds, and bright moonlight. Sitting near the Star Observation Terrace at night, the cool breeze completely dispelled the summer heat.

Everyone except Yan Ke and Yuwen Luo had come, turning it into a large group for drinking. Si Yunqin was worried that Zhou Xinglian wouldn’t have enough wine.

Luckily, Zhou Xinglian had also brought some side dishes. Si Yunqin sat beside Shen Yanxin, and rather cunningly had Xi Fengyu sit next to Changli, hoping the two would chat more.

Ke Lanyue was as talkative as Si Yunqin, and she was happily chatting with Zhou Xinglian. Having traveled extensively, Zhou Xinglian had many interesting stories to tell, and Ke Lanyue listened attentively.

Si Yunqin opened the wine jar and poured a cup for each person.

“Once the Dao Discussion Conference is over, Senior Sister, will you be leaving again?” Changli asked softly.

“Junior Sister, would you like to come with me? Staying cooped up in this Azure Cloud Abbey won’t let you comprehend the true essence of the Dao,” Zhou Xinglian said with a smile.

But Changli shook her head. “Master’s health is failing. I’d rather stay in the temple and keep her company.”

“You worry too much,” Zhou Xinglian said gently.

Si Yunqin took a sip of wine. “Not everyone can be as carefree and detached as Senior Sister Zhou, seeing through life, death, and the impermanence of the world.”

The abbott of Yunfu Taoist Temple had once praised Zhou Xinglian, acknowledging her insight into the Dao. But even someone like her, sitting here drinking and chatting, still had a bit more detachment from worldly affairs.

So Si Yunqin felt that she, a mere mortal, could never achieve that state of absolute tranquility.

With Si Yunqin, Ke Lanyue, and Zhou Xinglian present, the drinking table wasn’t awkward. Si Yunqin intentionally tried to engage Changli in conversation, and after a few rounds, everyone gradually became more talkative.

Xi Fengyu had also drunk a bit too much. Propping her chin on her hand, she looked at Changli. The face wasn’t just similar—it was exactly the same.

Yet she was sober enough to know that Changli might not be the person in her heart. She reined in her thoughts, remembering what Si Yunqin had told her that afternoon. To see this face again in this world was already a mercy from heaven.

“One day, when Daoist Priest Changli wants to descend the mountain, it won’t be too late to see those sights. Down the mountain, there’s the colorful diversity of human life; up the mountain, there’s the leisurely contentment of solitude. Each has its own joy,” Xi Fengyu said softly.

Clinking her cup with hers, Changli said, “The benefactor speaks truly.”

Xi Fengyu downed her wine in one gulp. “Just call me Fengyu. Since we’re friends, no need to be so formal.”

Hearing their conversation, Si Yunqin’s lips curled into a slight smile. She stretched lazily. She knew Xi Fengyu wasn’t the type to just shut herself in a room and brood.

Shen Yanxin was quiet, letting the others make noise; she was exceptionally calm.

Everyone present except Changli knew her identity. Zhou Xinglian didn’t want to casually strike up a conversation with her; Ke Lanyue was afraid of her; and Yuwen Qiyue was naturally reserved.

Only Si Yunqin clinked her cup with hers. “Senior Sister Zhou’s wine is good, isn’t it?”

Shen Yanxin nodded. Setting everything else aside, the wine was indeed excellent.

“If you want to learn to make it, I have a Wine Scripture. I’ll send it to you tomorrow,” Zhou Xinglian said with a smile.

Si Yunqin didn’t hesitate. “Alright, thanks, Senior Sister.”

“It’s been a long time since we last parted. Why not let me see if your swordsmanship has improved?”

Si Yunqin calling Zhou Xinglian ‘Senior Sister’ wasn’t just for show. Her sword art had been taught by the abbott of Yunfu Taoist Temple. Si Yan was skilled in spear techniques and archery on horseback—both practical on the battlefield.

But Si Yunqin had read too many wuxia novels in her previous life and always longed for the carefree style of a lone wanderer with a sword. Back when she had chanced upon the abbott practicing swordsmanship at Yunfu Temple, she had pestered her shamelessly to teach her.

Zhou Xinglian was seven years older, and later it was she who taught Si Yunqin.

“Alright!”

Si Yunqin did a backflip and landed on the open ground. Zhou Xinglian drew her sword and met her.

The two began a duel, exchanging moves and countermoves. Shen Yanxin watched quietly. Though their sword techniques were similar, their auras were completely different. Zhou Xinglian’s sword style was carefree and unrestrained, while Si Yunqin’s was spirited and bold.

Ke Lanyue found it exceptionally exciting and casually asked Changli, “Daoist Priest Changli, is your swordsmanship also very good?”

Changli shook her head. “Not really good.”

Xi Fengyu chuckled softly. “The Daoist priest is being modest. Even Daoist Priest Zhou praised your swordsmanship.”

“Master did teach me some sword techniques, along with a few boxing methods for fitness. But what I love most is medicine.”

“A healer’s heart is benevolent,” Xi Fengyu said softly, lowering her eyes to hide the emotions in her heart—afraid her gaze might be too intense.

“It’s not really that. When I was young, Master taught, so I learned. Later, Master’s health deteriorated. Master only has me as a disciple, so I had to care for her. And long illness makes one a doctor.”

Si Yunqin blocked a sword thrust from Zhou Xinglian and slid to a spot not far from Changli and Xi Fengyu. “Daoist Priest Changli, do you like painting?”

Caught off guard by the question, Changli hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “In my spare time, I do occasionally paint for my own amusement.”

Yuwen Qiyue heard this. “Then you should chat with Fengyu. Fengyu’s paintings are very good.”

Hearing this, the usually reserved Changli seemed to open up. Xi Fengyu, having drunk a bit more, also became talkative. Yuwen Qiyue glanced at Shen Yanxin, whose eyes were mostly on Si Yunqin, and didn’t try to engage her in conversation.

Mostly because she didn’t know what to talk about, but seeing Shen Yanxin’s gaze linger on someone was still quite surprising.

On the left, Xi Fengyu and Changli chatted about music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Beside them, Ke Lanyue, clearly drunk, kept cheering loudly. In front, the two were sparring.

This night was unusually lively yet peaceful.

“Senior Sister is still Senior Sister,” Si Yunqin admitted defeat to Zhou Xinglian without any discouragement.

“You’ve improved,” Zhou Xinglian praised.

Si Yunqin smiled and performed a sword flower, then walked over to Shen Yanxin. Her small face was flushed red, her peach blossom eyes serious as she looked at Shen Yanxin. “Shen Yanxin, do you dare spar with me?”

“I don’t have a sword,” Shen Yanxin said, shaking her head gently.

Si Yunqin tilted her head, thought for a moment, then reached out to grab Shen Yanxin’s hand and placed her own sword into it. “Use mine. I’ll use Keke’s.”

Shen Yanxin looked down at Si Yunqin holding her hand, placing the sword in her palm, and even thoughtfully closing her fingers around it.

She let out a soft laugh. “Then let’s have a bout.”

Ke Lanyue tossed her sword to Si Yunqin, who caught it, drew the blade, and handed the scabbard back.

“I want to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and celestial halls…”

Xi Fengyu heard her reciting a poem and shook her head. “Always reciting poems at random.”

“A good poem,” Changli said with a light laugh upon hearing it. She knew Si Yunqin was reciting poetry, but she was somewhat surprised by Xi Fengyu’s reaction.

Xi Fengyu shook her head lightly, but before she could speak, Si Yunqin had already answered herself. “That’s not a poem; it’s a ci. And it’s Su Shi’s ci—how could it not be good?”

Shen Yanxin thought seriously. She had never heard that name before, but Si Yunqin knew it, and Xi Fengyu knew it too.

Some fog in her heart seemed to thin a little more, but Si Yunqin’s sword was already coming. She raised her hand to block the sword’s momentum and began to take the fight seriously.

But Si Yunqin clearly wasn’t being serious. She hummed a tune that Shen Yanxin had never heard before, yet it didn’t sound like she was making it up on the spot.

Xi Fengyu listened to Si Yunqin humming—it was unmistakably the complete melody of “Water Melody Prelude.” In her previous life, her high school teacher had played it, and she knew it too.

Inexplicably, she missed some people and some things.

Picking up the flute on the table, Xi Fengyu began to play along with Si Yunqin’s humming.

“May we live long and share the moon’s beauty, even a thousand miles apart.” Si Yunqin hummed the tune as she struck at Shen Yanxin with her sword, but she was drunk, no match for the still clear-headed Shen Yanxin.

Shen Yanxin parried, and Si Yunqin took several steps back. She gave up and sat down on the ground. “I’m done. I can’t win.”

There was a hint of grievance in her voice. “You didn’t go easy on me.”

Shen Yanxin raised an eyebrow. “Your Senior Sister Zhou didn’t go easy on you either.”

Si Yunqin pouted slightly. “Hmph.”

Shen Yanxin let out a soft laugh and reached out her hand. But instead of taking it, Si Yunqin grabbed the nearby sword and did a flip, beginning to dance with it herself. Xi Fengyu accompanied her with the flute.

Another unheard melody, but it seemed Xi Fengyu understood, and Si Yunqin understood too.

Standing with her hands behind her back, Shen Yanxin watched Si Yunqin, rubbing her fingers together. She began to form some shocking conjectures. Curious about the secret between the two, it was definitely not just a simple fellow disciple relationship—it was about words that shouldn’t exist in this world, as Si Yunqin had once mentioned.

She thought Si Yunqin’s words couldn’t be about something as simple as death.

Si Yunqin sheathed her sword. Shen Yanxin walked over, grasped her hand with one hand, and took the sword away with the other. “Alright, you’re both drunk. Time to go back.”

“I’m not drunk!” Si Yunqin glared at Shen Yanxin, dissatisfied.

“Riiight, you’re not drunk.” Shen Yanxin’s tone was resigned, with a trace of indulgence.

Si Yunqin let herself be led back to her seat. Shen Yanxin sheathed Ke Lanyue’s sword and set Si Yunqin’s own sword aside.

Turning around, she saw Xi Fengyu still drinking, no longer quite sober. Otherwise, why would she be staring at Changli so openly without any disguise?

She wobbled to her seat and slumped over the table, no longer the bright and cheerful person she usually was—somehow melancholic.

“Don’t let them drink anymore. It’s bad for their health,” Changli said softly, taking the wine cup from in front of Xi Fengyu.

Seeing that Si Yunqin still wanted to pour herself wine, Shen Yanxin grabbed the jar first and poured herself a cup. “Alright, it’s all gone. Drink this last cup, and then no more.”

Si Yunqin was surprisingly obedient this time. “Okay.”

Ke Lanyue had already passed out drunk and even taunted Si Yunqin for being weak, already down.

Si Yunqin turned in another direction, too lazy to argue with her.

She looked at Changli and suddenly said, “Daoist Priest Changli, since the wine is finished, do you want to hear a story? The story isn’t mine, and it’s not my story, but I hope you’ll listen.”

Shen Yanxin had intended to take Si Yunqin back, but when she spoke, she paused and listened quietly.

Changli was taken aback, then nodded. “Please, go ahead, benefactor.”

“Once upon a time, in a very, very faraway place—beyond the starry sky—there was a little girl without parents. She grew up in an orphanage, seldom spoke, and was often bullied by the older children. Until one day, a couple brought another little girl to the orphanage and immediately spotted the girl in the corner…”

Si Yunqin slowly told Xi Fengyu’s story. As Changli listened, tears began to fall.

“I want to ask for her—does this story also belong to you?” Si Yunqin was drunk, but not completely. Her eyes were hazy, but full of hope.

Changli covered her face and wept. After a long while, she answered in a trembling voice, “Yes. Where is she?”

Si Yunqin couldn’t help but hiccup. She staggered to her feet and placed Xi Fengyu’s hand in Changli’s. “Right in front of you. She’s timid, so I had to tell you the story instead.”

Changli held Xi Fengyu’s hand, staring blankly into her eyes.

Xi Fengyu’s mind went blank. The person she had longed for had actually appeared before her eyes. When a dream suddenly came true, she didn’t know how to respond.

She looked down at Changli’s hand holding hers, and her voice drifted as she called out, “Elder Sister?”

That simple “Elder Sister” shattered Changli’s composure. She pulled Xi Fengyu into her arms and held her tightly. “Long time no see. This time, finally it’s not a dream.”

Seeing them embrace, Si Yunqin yawned. “I’ve told the story, finished the wine. Time to sleep.”

“Yunqin, what’s going on? I don’t understand your story. What’s an orphanage?” Ke Lanyue asked curiously. Yuwen Qiyue didn’t ask, but she looked at Si Yunqin with equal curiosity.

Si Yunqin shook her head. “Heavenly secrets must not be leaked. Little kids shouldn’t pry. Anyone with any sense should go back to sleep.”

“Let’s go back.” As soon as Si Yunqin finished, Shen Yanxin spoke abruptly. Then she bent down and helped Si Yunqin up.

Si Yunqin shook her head. “I can walk on my own.”

Shen Yanxin looked at Si Yunqin and Ke Lanyue, both staggering to their feet. The others could look after each other, so there wasn’t much to worry about.

Si Yunqin wobbled ahead by herself. Still uneasy, Shen Yanxin followed.

Back at the small courtyard, Si Yunqin stood in the yard. Looking at so many rooms, she scratched her head and turned to ask Shen Yanxin, “Where do I stay?”

Shen Yanxin couldn’t help but chuckle. She went over, grabbed Si Yunqin’s wrist, and led her toward her own room.

Si Yunqin obediently followed, neither fussing nor protesting—different from her previous drunken episodes.

The others hadn’t returned yet. Shen Yanxin led Si Yunqin inside without anyone seeing. Once inside, she closed the door. Si Yunqin sat down and stared blankly at the moon. Shen Yanxin couldn’t resist reaching out and ruffling her hair. “Not happy?”

Si Yunqin shook her head gently. “It’s not that I’m unhappy.”

“Then why?” Shen Yanxin asked patiently.

Si Yunqin slumped onto the table, poking the teacup with her fingertip, her gaze drifting.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Si Yunqin’s sudden question seemed out of the blue, but Shen Yanxin knew she wasn’t joking or speaking nonsense.

Xi Fengyu had someone she longed for, someone she had almost lost forever. What about Si Yunqin? Did she have someone like that?