Chapter 41: The amorous are angered by the heartless (II)

Entering the night, the stars twinkled like fireflies; the Li family courtyard had sunk into a deep sleep, only Song Shijiu’s room’s lit bright, the traces of a quiet, cold, elegant shadow on the screen window, which had attracted a layer of comfortable warmth in the yellow light.

When Song Shijiu had returned from the mountain god temple, she’d immediately been struck with a fever, eyes blinking dazedly as she’d spoken nonsense; Tu Laoyao had volunteered to go look for A Luo; when A Luo heard about it, she said it was just snake venom from switching noses, and the fever would be gone in a night. Being said like this, Li Shiyi in the end couldn’t relax, and fed Song Shijiu half a bowl of plain rice porridge, sitting by the bedside and making sure that she slept peacefully.

Song Shijiu’s vitality had improved a bit, but her cheeks still remained crimson, and her lips were also bright red, as if they’d been stained by juice from blossoms, and her eyes were narrowly opened, as if having been assaulted by the acridity of a candle flame; but, unexpectedly, the mirror image of Li Shiyi on her pupils was clear and bright, as if the haughty, bright moon had been confined to well water.

Li Shiyi’s right hand was on the bedside, and her left hand spread the letter that A Luo had given, looking with a bowed head; what was on the letter was incredibly simple, only two characters—”sheng sheng”.

This kind of strange beast, the Shengsheng, Li Shiyi had read of in the Nanshanjing; its appearance was no different from apes; it was said by scholars that it knew the past. A Luo’s meaning was incredibly clear; if the Shengsheng were to found and asked, Song Shijiu’s past would naturally come to light, the rocks appearing as the water receded.

Song Shijiu rested her head on the buckwheat pillow and looked up at Li Shiyi; her nose really was unbearably hot, her eyelids also extremely heavy, and her temples were as if having been struck repeatedly by great blows of sledgehammers, her entire body as if roasting under the sun, distorted beyond recognition. Against reason, Li Shiyi’s head was well-defined, the appearance of her face clear and distinct, her disposition beautiful, like the pendulum of a Western clock swinging back and forth, languid idleness firmly tethering the twisting world. Song Shijiu opened her mouth, the nasalness heavy, and asked, “What did she say?”

Li Shiyi’s fingers twitched, and she folded up the letter, and replied, “To go look for the Shengsheng.”

“Shengsheng; in the South, right?” Song Shijiu coughed a couple times, raising her hand to cover up her delicate lips; Li Shiyi raised her hand to her back, and nodded.

She gazed pensively at Song Shijiu; at one ear was the Teng serpent they’d made inquiries about during the day; in the hand was the urgent search for the Shengsheng; in the past, she’d always been a person who was incredibly orderly, but for the first time, the priority of first and last had become complicated. What made one doubtful was that these two types shouldn’t be placed on par with each other, so much so that there wasn’t a justification for them being side by side. She felt, faintly, that what needed to be placed in order wasn’t two types of strange beasts, but something else, and that thing had poked at her heart for a long time, until it couldn’t be put up with, and began to quietly ask her for a statement. Her throat moved, the glimmer in her eyes shifting in an undercurrent in the candle flame.

Her fingers were jabbed softly by something burning hot, and then tentatively tugged at, pinching her joints one at a time. Song Shijiu fiddled with Li Shiyi’s hand, not knowing what she was thinking. After a good while, she said, “Can I go look for the Shengsheng after a few days?”

Her tone was weak and feeble, as if it was said carelessly; Li Shiyi’s fingertips twitched, and she asked her, “Why?”

Song Shijiu said, “This matter of going down south, it’ll probably require going for a long time; I want to wait until little Tu Laoyao is born, and put a longevity lock on him and then leave.” She also had a small, selfish motive that she hadn’t told Li Shiyi; the little green snake’s reaction just then seemed to be as if she and Li Shiyi had had some sort of experiences together; this made her somewhat afraid; afraid that if there was really some reason that couldn’t be explained, in the future, there wouldn’t be able to be this sort of laying comfortably in Li Shiyi’s warmth.

The young lady before her was concealing something; Li Shiyi was more certain than anyone else; she gazed at her, the aura of sickness having attacked her into an incredible weakness, as if the tender flesh that grew at the bottom of the heart, and even a tender caress would be feared to hurt her. The gridlock within her mind, one side declining as the other flourished, repelled soldiers, but she felt, distinctly, that Song Shijiu used the retreat to advance; she raised a hand, and smoothed Song Shijiu’s sweat-moistened hair; Song Shijiu wast startled, her lips trembling a couple times, and then she held onto the hand that was about to retreat, and nestled her cheek into the dry palm. “I’m sick,” she said. “You’re not supposed to refuse me.”

Li Shiyi pressed her lips together, fluid glance flashing; her heart had something a bit amusing; this sort of bold and self-confiedent sickness clutched her hand and showed her teeth, like a fox cub guarding its food. She didn’t know if the reason was because she’d held her from the time she was small until she was grown, but Li Shiyi didn’t reject the intimate contact of Song Shijiu’s souch, and even had become a bit accustomed to the normalcy of it.

Song Shijiu spoke muzzily, her breaths hitting her skin. “In the past, this was also how I looked at you. At that time, you didn’t pay much attention to me. In the night, you couldn’t sleep, and would go outside to sit in the breeze; I also imitated you, sitting in the breeze. After you washed your head and dried your hair, it was your habit to use your right hand; one time, you used your left hand, and only absently rubbed it once before you switched hands. You didn’t pay particular attention to food or drink; you paid particular attention to books; when there was no business, you liked to sit by the table and flick through books. When the other sat, you would always leave the stool by the side of your leg, and stand upright and lower your head to look. At that time, I thought, when I was able to speak, I would definitely ask you, Li Shiyi, isn’t your stool a decorative item?” Song Shijiu put on an affectation, putting stress on the question, and, herself, was unable to stop her laugh. “But when I was indeed able to speak, I forgot it again.”

It was probably that the sickness was severe; she was speaking long-windedly and disorderedly, but as she spoke, it was all Li Shiyi. Li Shiyi called to mind when she’d covered her tears and contradicted her, asking her to take a look and see whether or not she whole-heartedly and contently liked her. It was as if she could see. The corners of her lips indistinctly pressed together.

Song Shijiu’s voice gradually softened. “Li Shiyi.”

“En.”

Her smiling brows and eyes were crooked, and she called her again: “Shiyi.”

“En.”

“Yi.”

“...what are you doing?” Li Shiyi extracted her hand, patting her cheek without harshness.

Song Shijiu was overjoyed, just about to speak, but she heard the sound of the wooden door moving, fragrance and the cadence of highheels coming simultaneously, and A Yin, sweeping away the dust on her shoulders off as she entered, her eyes flicking between the two people, and came to the side of the bed, brushing Song Shijiu’s cheek, and asked her, “You’re a bit better?”

Li Shiyi drew her hand back without a word or movement, pushing herself up on the side of the bed, three fingers lightly pressed together, glancing at A Yin’s leg, raised up over the other, and then flicked a circle over the fingers pressed against Song Shijiu’s cheek. It was, once again, Li Shiyi’s usual, measuring look, indifferent and cool. She saw A Yin’s stooped figure, rosemary and her shadow, together, enclosing Song Shijiu, the insides of her fingers smoothing over her jaw a couple times, as if surveying whether it was burning or not, and only withdrew her hand after a long while, the back of her hand pressing against her own forehead, and said, “You’re still scalding.”

The back of her hand brought along the slight chill of the outdoors, the comfort causing Song Shijiu to murmur softly, and seeing her take it away, wanted to speak but then hesitated, licking her dry lips.

Li Shiyi cast a glance at Song Shijiu, and then took the letter with a tilted face, folded it a couple times, and felt it wasn’t too orderly, and opened it up again, slender fingers pressing and pushing, her movement carrying a clumsy hesitance. A Yin, seeing Song Shijiu’s state wasn’t too good, spoke with her a bit, and then asked her whether she wanted to play jiulianhuan rings; Song Shijiu replied, smiling, “I haven’t played that for a long time.” Pausing, she said with a quiet voice, “Bring your ear over.”

Li Shiyi frowned; she saw A Yin moving closer, and Song Shijiu pressed her crimson lips together and said a few phrases to her; A Yin’s eyes widened, and after not too long she smiled widely, shaking her head. “I don’t have any new books.”

“Ai?” Song Shijiu was frozen with fear, and had been heard by Li Shiyi; she shot Li Shiyi half a glance, and hid her nose under the bedding.

For the first time, Li Shiyi felt that she herself was a bit superfluous. She wasn’t someone who particularly grabbed the limelight; often, even to the point of wishing she could disappear; but Song Shijiu, arranging a distance outside, caused her to have a bit of discomfort, as if the “whole-hearted contentness” of just now, which she’d just seen with great diffuclty, had instantly been broken into scattered pieces, and, unexpectedly, the culprit had put on a naiveness, causing one to be unable to muster the forces to punish it. She silently raised her head, pressing the corners of her lips together, index finger bending, and idly tapped against the side of the bed.

A Yin spoke a couple of jests to Song Shijiu, and then, seeing the hour wasn’t early, stood up, pressing her hand to her lower back, and touched Li Shiyi, saying, “She’s been feverish for a while, and the arid weather has dried the sweat, which is sure to have made her clammy and dazed; you should wring a hot towel, undo her clothes and wipe her back; only then will it get better.”

Li Shiyi’s glance flickered, hesitantly moving to Song Shijiu, but saw that Song Shijiu’s face was blotchy with red and white, and meeting her gaze, and moved away with panic, her voice hoarse as she dragged at A Yin. “A Yin-jiejie, you clean me.”

Rushing about for an entire day, she was incredibly dirty; how could she let Li Shiyi see it? Moreover, the endless pesting of the regular day, tangling and drawing closer, was one thing; undoing her clothes in front of Li Shiyi and facing her was another matter.

The candle flame leap in time with the occasion; Li Shiyi’s attention returned when Song Shijiu pleaded with A Yin, her brows also indifferently raising, like forcibly pausing the wind and rain, causing the passersby below, with nowhere to hide, to let out a breath of relief, but in fact didn’t know when the gale and sheets of rain would descend, and were even more worried.

Under Li Shiyi’s indifferent gaze, Song Shijiu came up with this image; her heart thudded, and, more than that, ached with a swell of acridity, but this acute suffering wasn’t exceedingly difficult to bear, but in fact, she wanted it to ache a second time, and a third. She felt that her five zang and six fu were using their most natural manner to remind her, and she sensed Li Shiyi’s undulations.

A Yin’s leisurely, peach blossom eyes flicked between the two people, and then relaxed her physicality and leaned against the bedframe; her words were asking Song Shijiu, but her smiling expression was aimed at Li Shiyi. “How about it?”

Li Shiyi’s voice wasn’t too clear. “I’ll go get a towel.”

This was the first time she took the initiative without giving in, and it made A Yin open her mouth and let out a soundless “wa”. Her lips had a smile suspended on them, and her wrist involuntarily pressed against her chest, still having a bit of an ache, and she as if she had a sizeable, penetrating wound. She put her hand down; without enough time to say anything, she saw Song Shijiu raising her body, catching her wist, and, in spite of the gold bracelet’s chromium, only anxiously and persistently said, “A Yin-jiejie, thank you for your trouble.”

The young lady’s solemnity was more than that of the heavens; the rebellion emerged in even the most obedient young lady. Her flushed face turned to say to Li Shiyi quietly, “You…still aren’t going to go rest?”

It Li Shiyi, and also wasn’t Li Shiyi, only a both estranged and ambiguous you. A Yin sat down, and Li Shiyi’s eyelashes lowered and she stood up, holding the envelope pinched in her hand, heading out without comment. Song Shijiu tilted her face and looked at her; her fevered ears were still scorchingly hot, and she saw the door open with her own eyes, and only then felt a cool breeze stealthily enter, dispersing the dry heat in the room slightly.

A Yin met her gaze, crooking her index finger and tapping her forehead; her eyes narrowed, having no alternative. Her expression expressed needlessly many words: causing Shiyi-jie to take offence, you’ve eaten a bear’s heart and a leopard’s gall.

Song Shiijiu sniffled, just about to say something to her, when she saw Li Shiyi’s single hand close the door, turning her body around, eyes lowering as she looked at her, thinking for a moment, saying bluntly, “Before you were seven, your baths were given by me, and your body was cleaned by me. There is a red mark on the centre back of your neck, and there is a small birthmark two fingers to the right of your navel.”

She touched on it and left it there. Finishing her words with tranquility, in spite of Song Shijiu’s stunned gaze, she gazed at her, and then turned and opened the door, leaving.

Song Shijiu was roused by the sound of the door closing, and she covered up her face with a wail; she hadn’t thought it through; she might as well burn to death.

-

< LAST | HOME | NEXT >