In his drunken haze, Cui Jingchun had the vague sensation that his body had become weightless.
Perhaps I’ve fallen into the River of Heaven, he thought drowsily. What difference is there between moonlight so bright and rippling water?
A few drifting clouds floated gently like soft waterweed, as though about to brush against his face. Cui Jingchun had never allowed anyone such intimacy, not even a cloud.
He wanted to draw back, but his limbs felt weak and beyond his control. He staggered and seemed to collide with something.
Cui Jingchun raised his head and saw Ren Yijue’s face.
The moonlight is already beautiful beyond words, Cui Jingchun thought. Fine wine had warmed his heart to the point of burning. This otherworldly immortal stood bathed in moonlight, his expression gentle yet stern. Though he seemed separated from the mortal world by ten thousand misty Penglai peaks, he surpassed even the cold moon above.
I’m sorry.
Cui Jingchun stammered, meaning to apologize, then felt that the other man would not blame him. A strange confidence rose in him for no reason at all. He said nothing and tried instead to stand.
“You’re drunk.”
Ren Yijue’s voice came from somewhere beyond those distant immortal mountains, indistinct through banks of cloud and mist.
An invisible force gently raised Cui Jingchun to his feet. His hand rested on smooth silk, glowing with the softest sheen beneath the night sky. It seemed to melt into water against his feverishly hot palm. How cool it felt.
Cui Jingchun gave a muffled sound. The world spun around him. Perhaps the River of Heaven had a bottom after all, for he sank lightly down until his back met the blue stone slabs and a shiver ran through him.
The flowing water brushed past. Cui Jingchun reached to catch it, as though grasping the last thread of a lovely dream.
Through the haze, he heard someone laugh. The water slipped through his fingers. His hand fell empty to his side, leaving only a trace of coolness.
His thoughts had grown too sluggish for speech. With a sense of relief, Cui Jingchun fell asleep.
After closing the bedroom door, Ren Yijue returned to the courtyard.
A flowering branch and a pot of wine still stood quietly upon the courtyard table. Ren Yijue drained the last wine in his bowl. This springwater, sweet as honey, stirred no heroic spirit within him, only endless, lingering tenderness.
Propping his cheek on one hand, he gazed sideways at the delicate flower and suddenly flicked it with a finger.
The spiritual qi from his water jade crept over the branch. The flower suddenly opened, blooming more gloriously than before. Layer after layer of petals unfurled, strung together like pearls, and settled in Ren Yijue’s palm, spotless and untouched by dust.
“You ill-fated scourge,” Ren Yijue murmured, sighing at the thought of someone. “Why should I go to such lengths to please you?”
He tapped the table, smiling without quite smiling, drunk without quite being drunk.
The following morning, Ren Yijue went to Bright Moon Mist Tower. Daylight had fully arrived. Sunbeams swayed between the shadows of the trees and scattered like flecks of gold over the flowering branch cradled in his arm, drawing out a touch of warm fragrance.
The flowers remained in exuberant bloom, lush and dazzling.
Bright Moon Mist Tower seldom had its doors closed. For a residence no one dared enter, whether its doors were open or shut made little difference. Ren Yijue stepped lightly inside without worrying whether its owner would welcome him.
Only as he climbed the stairs did belated embarrassment catch up with him. He slowed his steps and lingered outside the room for a moment.
A faint fragrance hung throughout the little tower. It was incense burned days ago; though none had been lit since, the lingering scent seemed reluctant to depart. Ren Yijue composed himself before asking, “Has the Jade Beauty risen?”
“Do you need something?” Qian Xuelang asked from within.
Ren Yijue smiled faintly. “Nothing terribly important, but plenty of little things.”
“Hmph,” Qian Xuelang said evenly. “Come in, then.”
Ren Yijue accepted the invitation gladly, only for his expression to stiffen.
Qian Xuelang had only just awakened and looked languid with sleep. One hand held back a corner of the gauze curtain as he leaned out. His long frost-white hair poured down behind him like a fresh fall of snow.
“Fetch me a basin of water,” Qian Xuelang instructed casually. “Cold will do.”
“Well, now.” Ren Yijue finally recovered his senses. He set the flowering branch on the dressing table and picked up the basin, drawling, “Was Ren born into this world solely to wait upon the Jade Beauty?”
Qian Xuelang glanced at him. “Had you not come, there would be no such errand.”
This secluded guest, whose heart was cold and nature snowy, spoke unhurriedly. He did not sound as though assigning a task so much as bestowing a favor upon Ren Yijue. He rose from the bed and went behind the screen to dress.
Beside the bed stood a mountain-shaped folding screen painted with several dazzling white peonies, their fine leaves like green clouds, the richly inked brushwork depicting a springtime scene of silken splendor and incomparable beauty.
Pale garments fell across the screen, like an unexpected bank of cloud.
Ren Yijue fled to fetch water, thoroughly flustered.
When he returned carrying the basin, Qian Xuelang was seated before the mirror admiring the flower. He held the branch horizontally, and in his fingers its flamboyance seemed subdued, lending it a dignified, graceful beauty.
Qian Xuelang lowered his lashes and caught the fragrance that had endured since yesterday. At last he looked puzzled.
“I cannot discern anything unusual about this flower.”
Ren Yijue set down the basin, finding this rather funny. “The curious thing about it is that it latched on to Ren, tugging at my sleeve and refusing to let go. It quite threw its life away.”
Qian Xuelang understood. This was nothing more than an ordinary flowering branch, with no mystery to solve. He rose to wash, paying no attention to Ren Yijue’s sudden enthusiasm. His hair cascaded down like a tree hung with snow-white peonies.
Ren Yijue remained rooted to the spot before abruptly asking, “Did the Jade Beauty exhaust himself so much yesterday? If you had important business, why… why didn’t you come find me?”
“I went nowhere.” Qian Xuelang dried his face. “I simply didn’t feel like meditating.”
Ren Yijue’s voice grew sweeter than honey. “Indeed? Willing to set aside arduous cultivation? The Jade Beauty’s state of mind truly has broadened.”
Qian Xuelang looked back at him, seemingly helpless. “Are you mocking me?”
“How could I?” Ren Yijue answered languidly. “A cultivator ought to be diligent, of course, but at the Jade Beauty’s level, bitter exertion accomplishes nothing. Being able to relax now must mean your state of mind has broadened. How could that be mockery?”
Qian Xuelang sat down again at the dressing table, declining to argue further. After a moment he asked, “Since there is nothing wrong with the flower, why did you come to see me?”
“I merely thought…”
Standing behind him, Ren Yijue saw both their faces reflected in the mirror. Qian Xuelang looked perfectly composed, while his own face betrayed a trace of apprehension.
“The Jade Beauty is missing a hairpin.”
This time it was Qian Xuelang who repeated his words. “Missing a hairpin?”
“Yes.” Once he had said it, Ren Yijue felt his heart lighten. Leaning forward, he pressed a palm to the tabletop and touched the petals with his fingertips. “A wooden hairpin.”
Qian Xuelang was silent for some time. “So this is a gift?”
“If the Jade Beauty accepts it, then of course it’s a gift.”
Qian Xuelang genuinely could not understand why Ren Yijue should bring him an ordinary flowering branch so early in the morning, wearing such uncommon eagerness and expectation, as though something had changed.
The green stem stood proud, the flowering branch curved softly. Qian Xuelang examined it a moment, reached past the brocade-bright blossoms to grasp its sturdy stem, twisted up his hair, and inserted it at an angle. “Even with water jade, it won’t stay alive for very long.”
Though wearing flowers in one’s hair was no longer fashionable, it was hardly unheard of. At the height of the custom, people had even worn floral crowns instead of hats. That had been ostentatious.
A single blossom in the hair was merely a little seasonal adornment.
Qian Xuelang entered the mortal world once every ten years and had witnessed plenty of peculiar fashions, so he gave it little thought.
“What does that matter?” Ren Yijue asked indifferently, revealing a different sort of ruthlessness. “When it withers, I’ll bring the Jade Beauty another.”
Folding his hands, Ren Yijue studied him carefully. Perhaps the flower had been forced to bloom too quickly, for spring had not yet stained its petals completely. Only the tips bore touches of rouge, scattered spots of color half-hidden among the frost and snow.
“Wait…” Ren Yijue suddenly said. “The hairpin is crooked. Let me straighten it for the Jade Beauty.”
With the flower tucked behind his head, Qian Xuelang could not see it and allowed him to make the adjustment. In truth, nothing about the hairpin was crooked. Ren Yijue merely wanted an excuse to touch Qian Xuelang’s hair.
“What flower is this?” Qian Xuelang asked.
A strand of snowy hair wound around Ren Yijue’s fingertip. The lingering tenderness in his heart finally came to rest. He answered softly, “Dew shines among the blossoms as spring nears its end; rouge has not yet finished painting the petals. With pure bones and an elegant spirit, amid heaps of brocade blooms, it can only be an immortal among flowers, a beauty from a dream.”
“Ah, a crabapple blossom,” Qian Xuelang said. “So spring is almost over.”
Ren Yijue laughed helplessly. “Yes, spring is nearly over. Perhaps… heh, the summer cicadas the Jade Beauty has been waiting for will soon begin to sing.”
His voice carried an inexhaustible measure of teasing.
Elio’s Notes: The chan in Cui Xuanchan’s name means “cicada.” Ren’s remark about summer cicadas is a playful jab at the city lord.
“To mock Cui Xuanchan so openly inside Dongxun City.” Qian Xuelang looked at Ren Yijue in the mirror. “You really are extraordinarily daring.”
Smiling, Ren Yijue took up a comb and simply began smoothing Qian Xuelang’s hair. “Ren hasn’t said anything at all. Clearly the Jade Beauty has something in mind himself, yet you want to pin the accusation on me.”
“If you keep speaking without restraint, you’ll get yourself into trouble sooner or later,” Qian Xuelang said with a cold snort.
Never in Ren Yijue’s life had anyone accused him of not knowing when to hold his tongue. He found it hilarious. You otherworldly creature, so far above mortal concerns, do you truly not understand that one must speak differently to different people? Have you ever seen me talk this way in front of anyone else?
Yet for Qian Xuelang, those words amounted to an extraordinary show of concern. Ren Yijue was not terribly demanding. He gladly accepted the kindness, then could not resist another joke.
He bent slightly, resting his hands on Qian Xuelang’s shoulders while watching their reflections. “Wasn’t the Jade Beauty willing to die alongside Ren? If trouble finds me, will the Jade Beauty really stand by and do nothing?”
Qian Xuelang brushed off his hands and stood. “The day will come when you and I must part.”
The crabapple branch swayed among his snowy hair, its flower buds plump and trembling, but Qian Xuelang’s expression remained perfectly indifferent.
Ren Yijue gazed at him. An inexplicable trace of hatred suddenly rose in his heart, yet his smile only widened.
“That’s quite true,” he said. “There will come a day when we part. Once the Jade Beauty leaves, if Ren says something outrageous, there really won’t be anyone left to protect me.”
The words carried resentment, every phrase sharpened with barbs.
“What are you unhappy about now?” Qian Xuelang asked calmly.
“So the Jade Beauty can tell.”
Ren Yijue almost wanted to laugh three times to demonstrate his anger. He drew a deep breath and suddenly felt utterly helpless.
“This is dreadful. I like the Jade Beauty more than the Jade Beauty likes me.”
He sounded terribly aggrieved, like a child denied a piece of candy.
You are indeed a good person, Qian Xuelang thought, but when did I ever like you?
In the next instant, realization dawned.
Ren Yijue had not liked him at all before, but now he liked him a little.
Only a little, and he wanted to compete over even that? Ren Yijue truly was a greedy man.