Under A Luo’s frankness, A Yin became timid, her gaze falling and about to go out. Yet A Luo pulled at her wrist, once more dragging her back into her embrace, her orchid-graceful neck lowered, a kiss pressing against her light and wild chin. In the neatly constructed garden, there wasn’t even a single cup lantern, the clusters of grass becoming a deep green, occasionally wrapping around early autumn fallen leaves. Yet the “wa-ya-ya” calls shattered this tranquility, causing the fallen leaves to curl their bodies up and shiver. Tu Laoyao gazed at the captured little ghost, copper bell eyes and an ox’s nose, a large mouth which stretched to its ears, a pointed hat on its head, its body wrapped in a bright red changpao. “How does it look this ugly, eh?” he muttered to himself in a quiet voice. Just then, the Xu Hao had walked quietly on tiptoe, winding out from the garden, and had just been about to climb the foot of the wall and enter A Luo’s room, yet it had just shifted a step when Li

When Song Shijiu awakened, the skies had already brightened greatly; Li Shiyi still remained her position of embracing her, and she laid on Li Shiyi’s arm, still not allowing her to become aware of the approaching reach of the sunshine, yet sensing the wonderful sensation in her palm. Like a piece of soft cloth, its inside filled with water, full and plump as it filled the seams between her fingers, causing her hand to form a semicircle. A parching heat flamed from her ear, and her heartbeat was also uneven; she was just about to raise her wrist, when she felt it jolt softly, causing her to be incredibly unwilling to part with it. She held her breath, raising her eyelashes; Li Shiyi breathed evenly, as if she still hadn’t awakened. Song Shijiu thought for a moment, gathering up her courage to shift her cheek in the crook of Li Shiyi’s arm, tightly grasping it, and then gently holding it. Her heart couldn’t help but curse out an incredibly un-virtuous profanity. The chaotic breaths impa

Have you ever obtained something you had awaited for far too long? So long that you couldn’t remember how it had started, and even more not knowing why it had come now; it didn’t allow you to be happy, and it didn’t allow you to be excited, merely causing you to dully and softly hope, fearing that the smallest expression would cause it to grow regretful, leaving you without even turning its head back. Song Shijiu had hoped for Li Shiyi precisely this dully and softly; she could clearly sense, when the ten fingers were entwined, Li Shiyi’s distinct joints, and the fine sweat that seeped out on the hollow of her palm. She didn’t know what the reason was for Li Shiyi’s previously indifferent eyes to faintly flush red, causing her to see a degree of delicate appearance. So, she had remembered this teasing question of Song Shijiu’s this clearly; she didn’t know how many hundreds of turns and thousands of returns of regards she’d gone through that only today they became the obscured love, a

Li Shiyi had seen all kinds of strange matters, but had never before raised a cat, and didn’t know how the small, snow-white ball that had coiled around her heels had laid at a distance, the ball of feathers and the dried fish both entirely lacking appeal, yet that cat’s paws scratched one’s heart severely, causing one to both hurt and yearn, making one unwilling to let it be free. This cat was called “worry about personal gains and losses”. It was raised by Song Shijiu, and placed in Li Shiyi’s courtyard. The cat’s paws scratched late into the night, scratching til Li Shiyi abandoned three sheets of fine, xuan writing paper, [1] and only then did A Yin knock on and open Song Shijiu’s door. She gazed at Song Shijiu’s hair, spilling over her back, which, its bun having been loosened, was faintly curly; in the past, when her hair was curly, it was like an elaborate toy figurine; she didn’t know if it was because losing weight had revealed the sharp angles, but unexpectedly, the few stra

Only on seeing Song Shijiu did A Yin and A Luo understand Li Shiyi’s meaning. She had closed herself into the room, and she only opened the door after A Yin knocked on it for a long time with a great deal of patience, and her current appearance caused one to be very apprehensive. It seemed as if she’d aged some more once again; large apricot eyes turned up at the ends, the clear lines of her lashes, her high nose, and her mouth, which was neither high nor low. What caused one apprehension wasn’t, in fact, her magnificent, full appearance, but her thin, weak, wan body; her prominent cheekbones had lost their original plump softness; the centre of her collarbones had sunk in, her hands, grasping the door, were slender and fine, and the joint between her wrist and thumb had thinned to a distinct hollow. She had placed her own, clearly diminished body into a loose nightgown, and her even, long hair fell to her waist, her appearance like a demon as she stood, backlit in shadows. What was ev

Li Shiyi gave A Yin a strong medicine; A Yin only realised it once she had woken. So, she had no choice but to accept, going in circles, that Li Shiyi was still the one who understood her the most; if it wasn’t her who had scared her into fleeing in defeat, it would probably have been a great many years before A Yin would have uttered this phrase. She laid on A Luo’s arm, and said, “I don’t want to like Li Shiyi anymore.” From childhood to adulthood, in the course of her quarrelling with Li Shiyi, Li Shiyi usually didn’t speak, allowing her to vent her feelings hysterically; not even if she was hurt would she coax her, nor would her cool gaze glace at her if she cried; she would wait until she had scolded her to her heart’s content, and then use a retreat to advance with a couple sharp phrases. Oftentimes, A Yin herself would feel that it was without meaning, and would weep and wail endlessly like a woman with a grudge, losing face all the way up to her grandmother’s family. After that