Chapter 180 A Chan’s Lips Curved Unconsciously…

Chapter 180 A Chan’s lips curved up unconsciously...

A Chan’s lips curved up unconsciously as she leaned forward, hands braced against the windowsill.

Bai Xiuming obligingly bent down, letting her lick and nibble at his lips. He responded lazily, without much passion.

When they finally parted, A Chan’s eyes crinkled with amusement as she teased him, "Lord Bai’s lips are truly sweet."

Bai Xiuming licked his upper lip, quelling the desire in his gaze. "Oh? Then have another taste?"

A Chan shook her head vigorously. Though the dim light hid the restrained emotions in Bai Xiuming’s gaze, her instincts warned her to stop at a mere taste—not to push her luck.

"How did you find me?" she asked through the window.

"The High Priest told me," Bai Xiuming replied calmly, unbothered by her doubt.

A Chan didn’t believe it. "The High Priest would only tell you I’m staying out tonight and that I’m safe. She’d never reveal Granny Yang’s location."

Bai Xiuming reached out to stroke her cheek—since kissing wasn't an option, touching would suffice. "So clever."

His thumb brushed lightly under her eyes, noting their slight puffiness, as if she’d been crying.

His gaze darkened slightly. Since arriving here, A Chan’s emotions had been volatile. The witch clan’s priests treated her with unusual kindness.

Of course, his A Chan was lovable, but for the highly cautious witch clan, this wasn’t normal. He even found himself benefiting by association.

"Why are you still awake so late?" he asked softly.

A Chan tilted her head, nuzzling against his warm palm, her hair cascading over his wrist, sending tingles through him. "If I’d slept, how could I have waited for you?"

Bai Xiuming’s lips curved, quickly mollified by her words. "Come out. I’ll take you stargazing."

"Where are the stars?" She looked up, seeing nothing but darkness.

Without explanation, Bai Xiuming effortlessly lifted her through the window.

She gasped softly, then remembered Hui Xue and Granny Yang were in the next room and quickly stifled it.

Holding her in his arms, he noticed her bare feet kicking restlessly and simply pulled her closer.

"Where are we going to see stars?" A Chan didn’t much care for stargazing, but she loved being held by Bai Xiuming.

Somehow, his scent comforted her.

"Up."

Before she could protest, he leaped through the dense canopy of the ancient tree, landing at its crown.

The massive crown blocked out daylight and now held back the night, but here above, the sky stretched endlessly.

Bai Xiuming stepped lightly along the treetop, seemingly weightless, yet steady. Finding a flat spot, he sat with A Chan in his lap, her arms draped around his neck as she gazed upward.

The pale moonlight was faint, but the sky sparkled with countless stars, their brilliance like a celestial river, shimmering and dazzling.

A Chan couldn’t look away. Leaning back, she whispered, "So beautiful..."

Did her parents once admire this same sky together? Now, she shared this view with them.

"Mhm," Bai Xiuming murmured, though he wasn't looking at the stars but on her—her starry-eyed gaze, her expression tinged with melancholy.

"A shooting star!" A Chan pointed excitedly.

He followed her gaze as two trails of light crossed the sky.

"Make a wish," he said.

A Chan almost shook her head—no one could grant her wish. But in the end, she closed her eyes and wished: *With my parents gone, let me find A Mian soon.*

When she opened her eyes, she turned to see Bai Xiuming doing the same. "What did you wish for?" she asked.

"Saying wishes aloud keeps them from coming true."

"Tell me! Maybe I can make it happen." She burned with curiosity.

Bai Xiuming chuckled, then murmured in her ear, "My wish is to stay the night."

A Chan immediately shoved his face away. "Not that one. Pick another."

"Why not?"

"If Granny Yang saw you leaving my room, it would shock her."

Bai Xiuming teased, "I think the witch priests are strong-willed. They wouldn’t scare so easily."

"Absolutely not."

Since A Chan refused to relent, Bai Xiuming had to settle for stargazing, his wish to stay unfulfilled.

Back on the ground, A Chan climbed back through the window, waving at him. "Be safe going back."

"Should I come for you tomorrow morning?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Hui Xue and I will return together."

"Return early."

"I know." She pushed him lightly. "Now go."

Only once Bai Xiuming had vanished from sight did she close the window and dart back to bed.

Snuggled in the soft bedding, she detected traces of his scent. Closing her eyes, she no longer saw darkness but a sky ablaze with stars.

A Chan fell asleep.

The next morning, after breakfast with Granny Yang, A Chan and Shen Huixue got ready to return to the village.

Granny Yang asked Hui Xue to pack recently dried herbs to deliver to the High Priest.

While Hui Xue sorted the herbs, A Chan moved to help but was stopped by Granny Yang.

"Have you received the things your father left behind?" she suddenly asked.

A Chan paused briefly before nodding. "Yes."

"There's a saying among humans: look before you leap. Whatever decision you make, ask yourself first—will you regret it?"

A Chan wanted to say she wouldn’t regret it, but last night, she'd still wavered.

"A Chan, don’t rush. You have plenty of time to make your decision."

A Chan nodded. "Understood."

Though she was certain no one could change her mind, she really shouldn’t hurry. It wouldn’t be too late to decide once everything was ready.

By then, Hui Xue had already packed two hefty sacks of medicinal herbs. She turned and waved at them. "Granny Yang, everything’s ready."

"Then you two should head back to the village. I won’t see you off."

"Granny Yang, we’re leaving." A Chan bid farewell to Wu Yang before jogging over to Shen Huixue.

Shen Huixue transformed into her original form, and A Chan climbed onto her back, waving at Wu Yang.

Wu Yang watched them leave, a gentle smile lingering on her face.

Before they knew it, A Chan and Bai Xiuming had already stayed in the village for over ten days. As the ceremony approached, the village grew livelier.

On the eve of the ritual, the altar at the village’s edge was fully constructed. At its center stood a tall offering platform. Since morning, villagers had been carrying offerings from the High Priest’s place and stacking them around the platform.

Nearly every household had prepared offerings for the ritual. Besides the offerings, the platform was strewn with freshly gathered blooms and and leaves.

The villagers’ excitement was so intense that A Chan found herself looking forward to the next day’s ceremony.

On the day of the ritual, shortly after noon, A Chan was brought to the High Priest’s residence by Shen Huixue.

The Wu Clan’s ritual began mid-afternoon. To perform the Ritual Dance, she needed to change into ceremonial attire first.

The High Priest had prepared a new ceremonial gown for A Chan—a white, sleeveless gown trimmed with gold, its belt woven from golden threads, tied in three knots at the waist and falling to her right side.

After changing, Shen Huixue sat behind A Chan, braiding her long hair before placing a plumed headdress on her head.

A Chan shook her head slightly, and the feathers on the crown trembled. The crown was made from the feathers of a luan bird, glittering under the light in a dazzling array of colors.

Luan birds had disappeared ages ago, and A Chan had never seen one in person. But just from the feathers, she could glimpse a fraction of their majesty.

Such a crown was a testament to the Wu Clan’s ancient heritage.

Once dressed, A Chan pushed open the door to find Lie Xing and two others waiting outside.

Apart from her, the other three performing the Ritual Dance were young men who had just come of age. They stood bare-chested, clad in black trousers, their waists similarly girded with golden belts—though knotted on the left.

On their heads rested bone headpieces, each uniquely fearsome.

When A Chan and the others finally pushed their way through the throng to the altar and met the High Priest, they were immediately directed to stand at the four corners of the platform. Soon after, nearly the entire village had gathered around the altar. A Chan even spotted Lie Xian’s family in the crowd—but Bai Xiuming was nowhere to be seen.

For a brief moment, A Chan’s mind wandered—until the bone instruments sounded, their mournful, far-carrying tones piercing the sky.

The High Priest ascended the platform, holding a long staff. She raised it slightly before striking the ground with a resounding impact. At the same moment, the nine fire pits around the altar ignited spontaneously. The burning incense within sent pillars of smoke skyward—an offering to the ancestors.

Then, the High Priest’s voice rang out: "Bow—"

Everyone, like her, faced east, hands pressed to their brows, and bowed three times.

To heaven, earth, and ancestors.

After the bows, quiet descended. The High Priest recited the ritual text in an ancient Wu tongue A Chan couldn’t understand. Her voice rose and fell, and though the words were incomprehensible, the emotional cadence was unmistakable.

Whenever her tone grew fervent, even the flames in the surrounding fire pits burned brighter.

Once the lengthy recitation ended, the drums sounded.

Two drums made of kui bull hide boomed, their earth-shaking rhythm soon blending with the keening of the bone pipes. To this rhythm, A Chan and the other four advanced step by step from the altar’s corners until they reached the platform.

As the drumming grew fiercer, so did the dancers’ motions.

A Chan felt as though she had entered another dimension—unable to see the crowd below or her fellow dancers. Only she stood in a beam of light, watched by countless invisible gazes from the void. She swung her arms, twisted her body, and danced the Ritual Dance over and over.

Perspiration rolled down her neck, yet it felt as though fire burned within her, banishing fatigue and fueling exhilaration. Every motion was an outpouring of primal, unrestrained energy.

Beyond the frenzied crowd, Bai Xiuming gazed at A Chan dancing atop the altar. His eyes dark as the abyss blazed with fiery intensity. Every movement, every turn, made his breath grow heavier.

The yearnings he'd never dared speak could no longer be suppressed—they burst forth uncontrollably.

When A Chan finally emerged from the trance, the rapid drumbeats ceased abruptly. The sky darkened in an instant as night descended.

Twelve rounds of the Ritual Dance had just concluded. From below the altar came a roaring wave of cheers, countless flower wreaths hurled toward the platform.

At that moment, the twelve banners marked with ancient Wu characters surrounding the altar stirred without wind. Then, a breeze swept through, and a shrill resonance arose from the altar’s center.

The sound rippled outward, sending forth a pulse that spread beyond the village.

In the unseen depths of the nearby forest, the wild beasts that dwelled there sensed danger and fled their nests, retreating deeper into the wilderness.

The Wu Clan’s ritual venerated their ancestors—not just for their protection, but to expand their living space.

The hum persisted until the High Priest’s staff struck the ground once more. Silence fell. Everything was settled.

The ritual had ended, but the Wu people's festivities had only just begun.