Chapter 157

Chapter 157

The delay at Deer Cliff took way longer than Shen Qichi expected. On the morning of the second day after his return, he pulled open the door and spotted firecracker scraps scattered like flower petals in the snow of Anmen Village, realizing the New Year was already over—it was now the fourth year of Changhe.

He turned back to look at Su Ying, who was in the hall, playing with a bird and having a blast, then went to the bedroom, grabbed a cloak, and draped it over Su Ying’s shoulders.

Su Ying’s shoulders dipped as he turned and met Shen Qichi’s clear, gentle eyes.

“Come on, let’s head out.”

New Year’s had probably just wrapped up. Snow blanketed the eaves, and icicles on the eaves glittered like glass in the sun. The air still smelled faintly of gunpowder, mixed with the sweet smell of sticky rice cakes. Shen Qichi thought about asking a neighbor for some rice cakes when his eyes drifted to Su Ying, who was staring hard to the left. He followed his line of sight.

Not far away, kids in bright red New Year’s coats were gathered under an old tree, chasing each other and messing around in the slushy snow. A paper windmill held up high spun into a blur of colors in the wind.

The kingfisher spirit sat on the Great Demon’s shoulder, tilting its head with him to stare at that windmill.

Shen Qichi smiled to himself but kept quiet for now.

The man and the two demons walked up to a small courtyard and knocked. Soon, Xiao Min’s cheerful face showed up behind the door.

“Brother Shen?” he said, surprised. “When’d you get back?”

“Last night.” Shen Qichi handed him the New Year’s gift he’d prepared. “Did any messenger come while I was gone?”

“Thanks, Brother Shen—no, none. But I’ve got something else to give you.” Xiao Min turned and went inside, coming back with a veggie basket and a fancy red invitation. “Zhangting’s getting married. Since you weren’t around, the invite came to me.”

Shen Qichi was a bit surprised. “Isn’t he about to go to the capital for the exams?”

“Yeah,” Xiao Min paused. “That guy’s lucky—he’s marrying the county magistrate’s precious daughter. The wedding’s set for the Lantern Festival. From what he says, he’ll head to the capital right after the bride’s family visit.”

The couple would be apart soon after tying the knot. Shen Qichi got what Xiao Min was hinting at.

Li Zhangting was now the county’s only juren—exempt from labor and land taxes, allowed to wear ninth-rank official clothes, and working as a minor county official. With his good looks and a house in the county, even if he flunked the spring exams, he was still a promising young talent. The magistrate probably worried he’d be dazzled by the capital’s glamour, so he rushed the engagement to his daughter.

Still, the two were in love, so it worked out fine.

Remembering the talented scholar and beauty he’d run into on Mid-Autumn Festival, Shen Qichi smiled. “Starting a family before making a career—that’s a good thing too.”

Xiao Min nodded and handed over the veggie basket. “You only got back last night, so you must’ve been in a hurry and not stocked up on New Year’s stuff. My wife steamed some rice cakes—take these to get you through today.”

Shen Qichi didn’t bother with formalities, thanked him, and reached out to take it. A hand reached from behind and grabbed the basket first.

“I’ll carry it.” Su Ying looked down at him.

Shen Qichi smiled at him, then heard Xiao Min ask, “After New Year’s, the village school will reopen. Brother Shen, same as usual—morning lessons for beginners, afternoon classics?”

Shen Qichi thought for a moment. “To be honest, Brother Xiao, I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be traveling far soon, no set return date, so I’m here to quit my teaching post. I hope you’ll allow it.”

Xiao Min was really surprised, then thoughtfully glanced at Su Ying, who was busy petting the bird. Su Ying seemed to notice and looked back. Xiao Min looked away and asked, “Heading to the northern frontier?”

Shen Qichi said simply, “Back to the capital.”

Xiao Min was shocked. “Brother Shen, you’re from the capital?”

Shen Qichi nodded, his eyes going distant like he was lost in thought. “I haven’t been back in years. Want to see some old friends.”

Xiao Min tactfully didn’t push it, just sighed regretfully. “Since you’ve got things to do, I won’t stop you. Just know your teaching spot here is always yours.”

He was Shen Qichi’s only close friend in the village he could really talk to. Though he often teased Shen Qichi, he’d also given him a lot of support. A warmth spread through Shen Qichi’s heart. He didn’t thank him again, just shared a knowing smile with Xiao Min—everything left unsaid.

Xiao Min gave a slight bow. “The mountains are high, the waters far, the road long and tough. Take care of yourself.”

Shen Qichi bowed back. “Take care.”

*

“Where are we going?” Su Ying asked on the way back.

“The capital.”

“Is it far?”

“Very far.” Shen Qichi smiled. “But it’s lively too. You’ll like it.”

Su Ying’s eyes lit up. “More lively than Mid-Autumn Festival?”

“More lively than the county town on Mid-Autumn. There’s plenty of fine food and wine.”

The kingfisher spirit fluttered its wings excitedly, flying to Shen Qichi’s shoulder and chirping. Shen Qichi beamed. “I won’t leave you behind.”

The kingfisher spirit cheered, soaring into the air, full of anticipation for the upcoming journey.

After all, in all its years, it had never been anywhere beyond Nanfu Mountain.

“Is the capital your…” Su Ying paused, searching for the right words, “your hometown?”

Shen Qichi nodded. “I grew up there.”

Su Ying stopped in his tracks, his gaze burning. “I want to see it.”

Not because it was lively, or because of the fine food and wine, but because it was where Shen Qichi had grown up.

Shen Qichi gave a faint smile.

Su Ying watched his smile, his heart like spring waters rising over jagged cliffs—moist and lingering.

That noon, Shen Qichi steamed some of the rice cakes Xiao Min had given him, drizzling them with melted brown sugar for lunch. The cakes were soft and sweet, and Su Ying ate a lot without realizing it. When he looked up, half-full, he noticed Shen Qichi had long finished and was sitting across from him, watching him quietly.

His gaze was calm and tender, filled with a meaning Su Ying couldn’t grasp.

Su Ying bit his chopsticks, the spring waters in his heart churning into waves, crashing aimlessly against the cliffs.

He didn’t realize how foolish he looked. A smile tugged at Shen Qichi’s lips. “Full?”

Feeling embarrassed, Su Ying quickly put down his chopsticks. “Full.”

Shen Qichi had steamed the cakes for two people. Seeing the half-plate left on the table, he knew Su Ying was lying. “Eat more. Don’t waste it.”

Su Ying took the excuse and picked up his chopsticks again, reaching for the center of the table. Then, Shen Qichi began telling him about the human New Year—how rice cakes were made, the meaning behind eating them during the festival, and other customs.

Amid the rice fragrance and Shen Qichi’s clear, flowing narration, Su Ying was struck by an untimely memory of that bloody battle. He recalled his fear and reluctance, his determination and desperation against the golden roc, and the shame and embarrassment he felt when he thought himself ugly.

All of this had been brought to him by Shen Qichi. He remembered how, when they first met, Shen Qichi had solemnly stated that the most important thing between partners was feelings.

So, did this count?

His thoughts wandered, and before he knew it, a question slipped from his lips.

"Why do mortals do so many things and celebrate so many festivals?"

Shen Qichi seemed to freeze for a moment, then said, "These are customs passed down through the dynasties. As for why, I can't answer that either."

Su Ying was a little surprised: "So even the teacher doesn't know everything?"

Shen Qichi chuckled: "The teacher isn't all-knowing either." He shook his head, said no more, got up and went to the stove to start preparing provisions for the journey ahead.

Su Ying thought for a moment, followed him, hugged him from behind, and lazily dropped his chin onto his shoulder, asking, knowing the answer, "What are you doing?"

Shen Qichi began explaining how to make flatbread. Su Ying tilted his head slightly, gazing at his moving lips, straight nose, slightly lowered long lashes, and the small mole at the corner of his eye, like a red plum blossom in snow, gradually losing himself in the sight.

The tide in his heart quietly ebbed. All the tangled emotions he couldn't understand receded with the ebb, leaving only a calm, warm spring pool.

Everything he didn't get, his teacher would explain.

He quietly lifted his chin and pressed a sticky kiss, sweet with brown sugar, on the spot where Shen Qichi's earlobe met his jaw.

Shen Qichi froze for a second, then shot him a helpless, amused look.

They spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, making enough flatbread for the road. Shen Qichi's bag from Deer Cliff was still unpacked, and he added many more items, turning it into an even bigger bundle.

Before leaving, Shen Qichi pulled out a long, narrow box from the bottom of a trunk, took out a silver-white longsword, drew a small section of the blade to check it, then quickly sheathed it and tied it to the bundle.

A gleam of blade light, like autumn water, flashed across Shen Qichi's brow. Su Ying's eyes wandered, and he reached out two fingers to curiously touch the cold sheath. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

When he was just a young snake, a few swordsmen had come to Nanfu Mountain, slaying forest venomous insects and fierce beasts as easily as taking candy from a baby. Back then, hidden among the leaves, he saw blades flash and leaves fly, thinking mortals were terrifying. Later, after becoming a demon and living in seclusion, recalling those swordsmen, he thought they were as insignificant as ants, and his younger self had made a big deal over nothing.

But those fleeting, shadowy sword techniques had still left a deep impression on him.

He didn't remember the swordsmen's faces, only their fierce aura that had chilled him at the time.

They didn't resemble Shen Qichi at all.

"I learned a few moves when I was young, just flashy stuff," Shen Qichi said. "The road to the capital is long, and who knows what we'll run into along the way. It's good to have it for protection."

Su Ying wanted to see Shen Qichi use the sword, feeling that even if he asked him to show it now, Shen Qichi wouldn't refuse. But seeing Shen Qichi busy preparing for departure, he let the thought go.

Winter in Anmen Village was very peaceful, as if the heavy snow had buried the village's smoke, noise, and life deep within.

Su Ying followed Shen Qichi out of this small village where he had lived for just a few months, leaving behind Nanfu Mountain, his home for hundreds of years.

They walked slowly along the mountain path. The kingfisher spirit flew and stopped now and then, sometimes glancing back at the green-tiled houses now hidden behind the winding mountains, feeling a reluctant ache that came too late.

When they reached a deserted area, Su Ying would shift into his true form and let Shen Qichi ride on his back. After traveling off and on for several hours, the man and the two demons arrived at Fengtou County.

Stripped of its festive hustle and bustle, Fengtou County was just an ordinary county, hastily cleaned up after the harsh winter snow. Without the colorful silks and street vendors, the streets seemed somewhat empty. Su Ying noticed moss spots growing haphazardly in the stone crevices, snow piles mixed with mud and leaves along the roads, and the crooked, cracked door hinges of some houses.

Even though he had visited few places, he could tell this was a somewhat worn-down county.

Unlike the unchanging Deer Cliff cave dwelling, every day in the mortal world was different.

He followed Shen Qichi to the horse market, watched him being led through the paddocks by a horse dealer, and finally paid silver, leading back a sturdy, dark brown steed. Then Shen Qichi led the horse, with him and the bird spirit, into an inn.

"Let's stay here for a few days, then set off after drinking Changting's wedding wine," Shen Qichi said.

Su Ying casually surveyed the inn room, indifferent to the departure time.

As long as he was with A Chi, it was fine.

*

On the day of Li Zhangting's wedding, Fengtou County revived the bustle Su Ying had seen before. The county magistrate's daughter's wedding was even grander, with a ten-mile dowry procession circling the city three times, accompanied by drums and music all the way, until the groom finally received his bride.

The procession, draped in red and green, passed by the inn. Su Ying stood by the window, watching it appear noisily at the street's end and disappear at the other, a faint glimmer in his eyes.

Behind him, Shen Qichi's urging voice came. He turned and followed Shen Qichi out of the inn to the groom's mansion.

On his student's joyous day, Shen Qichi shed his usual plain attire and wore an indigo robe. Facing Li Zhangting, he truly acted like a teacher, patting the nervous groom's shoulder and offering a few warm words of comfort.

Su Ying had only met this groom, who respectfully called Shen Qichi his teacher, once before and had never given him a proper look. But today, the joy, nervousness, shyness, and sweetness radiating from the groom made every guest pause for a moment, and he was no exception.

His gaze moved from Li Zhangting's smiling face to his wedding robe, then to the wedding hall inside, the guests on both sides, and finally settled on Shen Qichi's faintly smiling face.

And then he couldn't look away.

The wedding feast's wine was excellent, and he drank a lot, feeling tipsy by the time the party dispersed. Unlike him, Shen Qichi remained restrained, only sipping a few cups, so when they left Li Zhangting's mansion, he still looked gentle and refined.

But Su Ying could feel the tranquility emanating from his heart, like the still forests of Nanfu Mountain on a windless day, or the century-old, unchanging Langgan at Deer Cliff.

He felt a familiarity, as if he were still in that seven-hundred-year static dwelling, rather than abruptly entering the ever-changing, unfamiliar mortal world.

A sense of peace enveloped him. Su Ying grinned, a sudden, indescribable lightness and joy welling up in his heart.

Perhaps he was smiling too foolishly, drawing Shen Qichi's sidelong glance. But before he could ask, as if infected by Su Ying's joy, his tone carried a hint of a smile.

"What's wrong?" Shen Qichi asked softly.

"So this is what it means to take a wife," Su Ying said with a smile.

Shen Qichi paused, recalling the day Su Ying first arrived in Anmen Village and asked what it meant to take a wife. He hadn't answered directly, and now, Su Ying had found the answer himself.

"You're this happy just from knowing what it means to take a wife?" he said.

Su Ying nodded, walking forward, his heart overflowing with lightness: "I know we're the same as them."

I will also marry you, have a wedding, stand foolishly at the door greeting guests, and invite everyone to drink wedding wine.

He walked a bit further, but didn't hear Shen Qichi's response for a long time. Puzzled, he looked back and found Shen Qichi had stopped, a distance between them, staring at him in a daze.

Su Ying had never seen him so stunned, as if struck by a huge shock, losing all ability to react.

Then he felt the tranquility in Shen Qichi's heart vanish, like a hurricane sweeping through Nanfu Mountain, the eternal vitality of Langgan withering, and Jade Fruits falling one after another.

He stood there helplessly, not knowing what had happened.

"Why... do you say that?" He heard Shen Qichi's voice, light as a floating leaf.

"I can feel it—Li Zhangting and his bride, the bride and him, me and you, you and me—it's all the same," Su Ying replied, somewhat bewildered. "Did I say something wrong?"

Shen Qichi's lips moved. "What do you mean... you can feel... me toward you..."

"My inner core is with you. When you're happy, sad, or angry, I know. Don't you like that? I'm sorry, I can't control it, but I can't take it back—you need it."

Su Ying finished speaking incoherently, then watched as Shen Qichi's face gradually lost all color.

A few breaths later, the only color left on Shen Qichi's pale lips slowly seeped out as blood.

His eyes widened, his mind went blank, and his body moved before his thoughts, rushing over to catch the swaying Shen Qichi, frantically wiping the blood from his lips with his thumb.

"A Chi, what's wrong? Where does it hurt..."

Shen Qichi grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly in his hand, caught his breath, his lips moving but no sound coming out.

He had lingered in the underworld for too long, plotted for too long, constantly replaying how Su Ying died in his past life, constantly reminding himself of what he needed to do, so much that he'd forgotten how Su Ying lived with him in that past life, forgotten his every word and deed, forgotten that he too had attended this wedding banquet in that life, drank wine, walked quietly beside him, tipsy, and asked in confusion.

"Why are we different from them?"

How had he answered then?

He had said: "The two of them are both mortals, a man and a woman, so naturally they are different from us."

But his relationship with Su Ying had always been like that of Li Zhangting and Sun Yumei—the way of husband and wife.

What if...

What if Su Ying had always been able to sense his emotions through his inner core, then what he had asked at that time was why, though they were both couples like the other two, their feelings for each other were utterly different.

What if he had always known...

Had he also known about his disgust, his half-heartedness, his resistance, and even his occasional weariness and hatred?

Known his false affection, his honeyed words and hidden daggers, known his duplicity and sanctimoniousness, yet still drank it in like honey?

Wasn't he in pain? Wasn't he humiliated? Why could he always pretend to know nothing and stay by his side, letting himself be fooled?

A great demon who'd cultivated for over seven hundred years, who'd seen seas turn to fields and the world change—did he truly not understand?

Did he... not hate him?

Shen Qichi swallowed the bitterness in his throat. "I'm asking you..." he caught his breath, "I'm asking you, if you hadn't been sick then, with only half an inner core, could you have defeated that golden roc?"

Su Ying held him, at a loss, not sure why he'd suddenly brought up that golden roc, but answered his question: "I could, I could, that golden roc was very weak."

Shen Qichi closed his eyes. "What about without the inner core?"

Su Ying nodded, then realizing Shen Qichi might not see him, quickly added: "I could too."

"Even if you neglected cultivation after coming down the mountain?"

Su Ying nodded again, and said frantically: "A Chi, let go of me first, let's go back to the inn, find a doctor, or I..."

Whatever Su Ying said next, Shen Qichi could no longer hear.

He let out a bitter, almost self-loathing laugh.

He didn't hate him; he was just disheartened, rather die at the hands of the golden roc, rather die in the thunder tribulation, than believe he could still receive true feelings from him.

Shen Qichi had never recalled the Su Ying of his past life so clearly.

No tantrums, no wrecking the granary in a fit, no capricious demands for money to buy useless threads, rarely expressing likes or dislikes. Just silence, lovemaking, confusion, lovemaking, silence.

The more detailed the memories, the sharper the knives they became, slicing away at his heart piece by piece, until it was a bloody mess, drenched in gore.