Chapter 13

Beside the Luo River stand cold plums, their blossoms mirrored in the water like graceful charms. Flowing light imbues the snow year after year, the lingering fragrance of plums intoxicates returning travelers. — Preface

Returning, I know not that I am a guest, letting my fragrant soul drift away with the wind. Leaning against the railing to listen to dreams without remembering, tears fall like rain—who can this be? That orchid blooming in the dream chased after Mei Hanluo's figure, tireless. Yet the cold plum on the bank of the Luo River never once looked back—was it out of reluctance or out of fear? When the withered petals drifted away with the wind, finally someone wept, their clothes soaked with tears.

Repeating past mistakes, warning oneself over and over that things cannot go on like this, the ending is destined to be sorrowful—why still refuse to give up? Why refuse to give up? A person accustomed to loneliness should possess a heart as desolate as death, untouched by dust, preserving their own purity, shouldn't they? One who understands loneliness should respect such resolute indifference, keeping away from disturbance, guarding from afar throughout one's life. Two lonely people may perhaps lean on each other, but they cannot necessarily walk hand in hand for a lifetime. Just like two isolated islands, no matter how close they drift, they can never merge into one, and they might even drift further and further apart amidst their respective storms and waves. Then, let us bless each other, no matter how much longer we can lean on each other, no matter when we might part, no matter how far the road ahead remains. At least, when this storm approached this time, we stood shoulder to shoulder, facing it with a smile. Often, guarding one's own happiness and living in peace is already enough; why stubbornly demand attachments that do not belong to you? You are simply you, with no need to change for anyone. Isn't it good to just be yourself? Yet I... No yets. We are not people on parallel lines; you are a spirit, and I am a deity. I know, but... Knowing this is enough. Forget me... Forget you? I can, but... Lan Ruoxue, what is wrong with you? You only know how to say "but"—how can there be so many buts? Besides, what is there to be sad about? Cheer up! Didn't Alin say that we must live happily, even if life is not entirely as we wish? You always seem happy, so what is happiness, then? Is not being sad considered happiness? Now that I can speak, I should be happy, but why am I sad? Trading my voice for an eye—isn't that a pretty good deal? I still have one eye left, so why can't I feel happy? The woman in purple sat up from the bed and blinked her eyes. Everything seemed unchanged, except for her left eye, which had lost its former brilliance and focus. She gently stroked her throat with her hand, as if waking from a dream. When the dream ended, she discovered she could speak, but what could she say to that person? "Alin," the woman softly called out, uttering her good friend's name for the very first time. It felt wonderful to finally be able to call her instead of silently repeating it in her heart without being able to force out a single word. "You're awake! That's wonderful!" The door flew open, and Alin rushed to the bedside carrying a tray laden with fruit, so excited she was incoherent. "You... you called me! You can speak! Sound Spirit is truly amazing! Qian, sister Qian, come quickly! Alan, Alan can speak!" "Why are you making such a fuss? I told you there wouldn't be any problem. Although it was a bit troublesome, fortunately we had Mei Hanluo's help." Qian said this last sentence in such a soft voice that Alin did not hear it. Holding the Nine-Tone Zither in her arms, Sound Spirit walked in gracefully, smiled faintly at the woman in purple on the bed, took the fruit tray from Alin's hands, and placed it on the small side table. "How do you feel? Are you getting used to it?" Qian picked up a peeled fruit and handed it to Lan Ruoxue. "Has he left?" Lan Ruoxue took a bite of the fruit, which tasted both sweet and sour, her voice so soft that even she doubted it. *What are you worried about, and what are you expecting?* "He said he needs to leave for a while to find a way to heal your eye." Qian said no more; Mei Hanluo had consumed too much spiritual energy and needed to rest and recuperate for a period of time before he could recover. "Don't worry! He's the God of Flowers; it's only natural that he likes mountains and rivers. Maybe he just got homesick and went back to the Luo River to play for a couple of days before coming right back!" Alin spoke without thinking, inadvertently revealing Mei Hanluo's whereabouts. "Luo River?" Lan Ruoxue froze. It sounded so familiar, yet she was certain she had never been there! "That's right! The waters of the Luo River are magnificent!" Alin picked up a fruit and took a large bite herself, shivering violently from the sourness. "You talk far too much. Can't you just eat your fruit properly and shut your bird beak while you're at it?" Qian picked up a fruit, looked at Lan Ruoxue, and sighed. "W-what did I do wrong again? Who do you think you are, turning hostile the moment you please?" Alin was utterly baffled, a nameless anger flaring up against her zither-holding senior sister. "Even biological sisters can fall out, let alone someone who is merely an outsider." "Biological sisters... Oh... So, to you, I am nothing more than an outsider." Alin looked at Qian and suddenly fell silent, at a loss. *Qian, how could you say that to me?* "Yes, an outsider. We are all outsiders—just outsiders." Qian emphasized the word again, her tone laden with implication, and then walked out alone, holding her zither. An awkward silence filled the room. The two of them gnawed on their fruits, neither feeling very well inside. Perhaps a sorrow that can be put into words doesn't even count as sadness at all. Standing outside in the fine drizzle, Qian suddenly felt a wave of desolation wash over her. Then, changing her mind, she turned and walked back inside. Relationships between people are always so subtle: simplicity that seems complex, distance that appears intimate, hostility disguised as care... I have never tried to truly understand you, yet I do not wish to leave you while knowing nothing at all. Yet I have to leave. Walking constantly behind you, I am content, but you are exhausted. Following endlessly in your footsteps, I am happy, but you remain lonely. Always longing for a reunion, I feel fulfilled, but your heart has long since turned barren. Both of you are such proud people—one cold and frosty to the bone, the other pure and icy as snow at heart. "Stop looking for him. There will be no good outcome." Seeing that Lan Ruoxue had already gotten out of bed and was packing her bundles, Qian suddenly blurted out without any preamble. Her slender fingers paused. Lan Ruoxue turned her head, fixed her bright right eye on Qian, and smiled faintly. "I know everything. Thank you, Qian. Thank you all for everything you have done for me." Qian said nothing more and returned the smile. Both were women of keen intelligence and sensitive hearts; a single glance was enough to express everything. The waters of the Luo River, the flowers on the riverbank, plums proud against the frost, orchids pure as ice and snow. "Mei Hanluo, get out here right now! Why did you treat her this way? Give me a clear explanation!" Raging beside the Luo River was a girl in red, looking around sixteen or seventeen years old, with a red flower-shaped mark on her forehead—Manjusaka. Manju, the Manjusaka spirit, could read the memories of others and unravel what they thought and felt, yet she was powerless against many things. But this time, she did not want to stand by and watch; Lan Ruoxue was her own kind. "The affairs of this Superior Deity are not your place to interfere!" A cold, temperatureless voice suddenly rang out, startling the little girl in red. Had she not long since grown used to flowers and trees suddenly speaking and singing, Yun would have thought she had run into a ghost! But even if she had encountered a ghost, it was nothing; born on the shores of the Underworld's Forgotten River, what hadn't she seen? "Truly deserving of the name Mei Hanluo! Does being the God of Flowers make you so high and mighty? Only you could make Xue'er grieve to this extent!" The young girl glared at the man dressed in white as snow, her gaze turning icy. This man's heart—she could not read it. The thoughts of deities were things the Manjusaka spirit never dared to guess at; that would be committing offenses against superiors and inviting heavenly retribution. "Flower Spirit of the Underworld, why aren't you down in the Underworld properly serving the Demon Lord instead of running all the way to the Luo River?" Mei Hanluo stopped at the riverbank, staring blankly at the flowing water. You—! Yun choked with anger. "This young lady goes wherever she pleases! Is that any of your business?!" Yun stamped her foot, too lazy to deal with him. He was a ten-thousand-year glacial iceberg, as cold as an icicle—humph! "Then why do you meddle in my affairs?" Mei Hanluo retorted, leaving Yun utterly speechless, before turning around and walking away on his own. To think he could be so emotionally unsettled by the words of a little girl! What was wrong with him? Why did he feel angry, and with whom was he angry—himself? Meanwhile, Alin was feeling very bored today when she suddenly remembered that in two days it would be her birthday. But here was the catch: she had forgotten how old she was! She was utterly speechless—how could someone so young be so forgetful? Alin tapped her own head. *Oh well, forgotten is forgotten! As long as I get gifts, haha!* Right, should she tell Alan and the others? Or maybe keep it quiet for now and hit them with a surprise attack! Wearing a wicked grin, Alin clapped her hands and turned to look for Feng Ling. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen that fellow in days—what was he up to? As for Feng Ling, he had been missing for several days—what had he been up to? The answer was that he had gone to the Underworld. And what was he doing in the Underworld? Naturally, he had gone to drink and chat with the Demon Lord, while casually looking around to see if there were any treasures he could beg for as a birthday gift for Alin, saving himself the trouble of putting thought into buying one. Who knew how Alin would react upon finding out—would she summon a swarm of mosquitoes to bite him?! Alin was walking along absentmindedly when she suddenly caught sight of a familiar flash of purple. Lan Ruoxue was sitting quietly on the grass, staring blankly at the distant horizon, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly into a helpless, shallow smile. That smile made Alin freeze, a pang of heartache gripping her, and she quickly hurried over. Alin plopped down beside the beauty in purple, imitating her attempt to look refined by resting her chin in both hands and staring blankly at the blue sky and white clouds! "Alin, what are you daydreaming about this time?" Lan Ruoxue asked, looking at Alin, who had quieted down for once. "Me? I'm thinking about everything! The people I like, the things I like, delicious food, fun games—whatever I feel like thinking about!" Alin turned her head back and said with a beaming smile. "The people you like... are you talking about Feng Ling?" "Him? I certainly don't like him! All he ever does is cause trouble!" "Yet the two of you have always gotten along quite well. Or perhaps, Alin, you have someone else in your heart?" "Me? There are plenty of important people in my heart, so don't you worry about that, heh heh!" Alin gave a dry laugh as a smiling face suddenly floated up into her mind. *Someone else in my heart? Perhaps...* "Lord Mei, where do you suppose he is? What is he doing? Will he come to look for us again?" Lan Ruoxue let out a faint sigh, lowering her head to speak no more. "I guess... he will! As the ancient saying goes, those who are destined will meet again of their own accord. I'm sure the two of you will meet again—trust me!" Alin patted the purple-clad woman's frail shoulders, smiling as she watched a flash of light return to her gaze, dispelling her gloom at last. Alin pulled Lan Ruoxue up from the grass. "Come on! I found a cherry tree in the garden; let's go pick cherries!" None of them could have imagined that their reunion would be so heartbreaking. It turned out that meeting again meant never meeting again, unable to ever see each other again, let alone stay together... A person with a stern exterior may be far more approachable than someone with a cold heart; a person with a kind exterior may be far more cruel than someone with a ruthless heart. Outward appearances do not matter, because true kindness cannot be faked! Furthermore, ever since Alan regained her voice, Alin finally found the ideal companion for endless chatting. They chatted when they were happy, chatted when they were sad, chatted while touring the mountains and rivers, and chatted while eating and sleeping. It seemed that no matter the time, there was always an endless stream of things to say. Lan Ruoxue never grew tired of it, though she would often fall silent mid-conversation, as if burdened by worries. Indeed, after months apart without a single piece of news, how could she not worry?—Lord Mei, where on earth have you gone? "Alan, don't worry. He's such a powerful figure; naturally he has rare moments of leisure, unlike us who are so carefree. Once he finishes handling his matters, he'll definitely come looking for us to have tea!" Knowing that Lan Ruoxue couldn't let go of the matter in her heart, Alin could only offer soothing words since she couldn't help. At that moment, a young girl suddenly came running toward the two of them at high speed, failing to brake in time and nearly crashing right into Alin. Without even apologizing, she spun around them in a circle with a pensive look on her face, then turned and ran off without a word or a backward glance. Once the girl had run far away, Alin barely managed to recover her wits, turning her head with a face full of question marks to look at Lan Ruoxue, who looked equally bewildered. Then, catching sight of Feng Ling running up from a distance, her heart skipped a beat. What kind of situation was this? Who was this mysterious girl out of nowhere, and where had she popped up from? And then followed the most severe argument Alin and Feng Ling had ever had since they met. "Who you like and who you want to be with is your own business—what does it have to do with me? Since she likes you, go find her then! Why are you telling me all this? You want me to understand you—who do you think you are, and what qualification do you have to demand my understanding?!" Alin's pretty face turned flushed with anger, her eyes glaring at him as if breathing fire. "Liner, listen to me explain." "I won't listen! Shut your mouth! From now on, I will never meddle in your affairs again. You take your wide road, and I'll cross my single-plank bridge! Don't you ever come bother me again; I never want to see you for the rest of my life!" Alin childishly covered her ears, stomped her foot fiercely, and turned to run away. Feng Ling, who was accustomed to Alin's cheerful giggling, was dumbstruck. He had never seen Alin lose such a ferocious temper, nor had he ever imagined that she would be this angry with him. Subconsciously, he had assumed that a girl who loved to laugh and play like Alin simply wouldn't get angry, leaving him completely at a loss. "You fool. Do you really think Alin doesn't care about anything?" Qian shook her head and walked away, holding her zither. Feng Ling looked blankly at the spot where the blue-clad woman had vanished—was that stubborn girl truly not planning to ever pay attention to him again?