Chapter 56: Who sent my longing to Du Heng? (V)

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 almond 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 even stranger was her expression; hazy, muddled eyes, lacklustre as they rose to the few people, pausing on Li Shiyi, and then hurriedly falling, her hand pushing on the doorknob, and then turning around and walking to the bed.

She hadn’t had the inclination to greet the group, even Li Shiyi losing her interest, and she laid quietly on the bed with her back out, her hand on her cheek. A Yin glanced at Li Shiyi, and saw her lips pressed together, her jaw moving forward, and then pulling back once more. She was in a difficult situation.

A Yin stepped inside; the room had the mustiness of not having been aired out in a long while, and she lowered her nose slightly, striding forward in a few steps and pulling the curtains open, then sharply opened the window, and with a swishing sound, the sunshine poured in, insatiable and strong as it drove away the gloominess; the people in the room, unaccustomed, blinked their lashes, only Li Shiyi standing in the middle, her gaze never having left from Song Shijiu’s form.

With quick steps, A Yin came to the side of the bed, her hand placed on the depressions on Song Shijiu’s back; touching it, it was all bones, and her heart was so pained she didn’t dare to use more strength, only raising her head to ask the person by her side, “What’s happened?”

Since A Yin understood the reason, Li Shiyi didn’t conceal it from her. “She and I went to Mount She to find the Bai Shai’s idol; she accidentally touched the Teng serpent’s offering table, and the space between her brows was struck by the serpent’s tail.”

Their experiences being this similar caused A Yin to startle as if it were a lifetime ago; she pressed down on Song Shijiu’s faintly curled hand, becoming a fist on the top, and only after being silent for a while did she say, “Then…” The remainder of her words, she had some inability to speak.

Li Shiyi shook her head. “Her symptoms aren’t the same.”

Tu Laoyao interjected, “She doesn’t like speaking anymore, yet doesn’t sleep either; at night, she sways about the building, like a ghost. What’s strangest is that she doesn’t eat much either; eating two mouthfuls, she’ll vomit three, spitting up her guts and belly.” He used an idiom, sighing like an old man, and continued, “Look, she’s lost weight to this state; her face has even narrowed to the appearance of an awl; I woke up early to buy a chicken, and discussed with Shiyi stewing a restorative soup, and just by chance, you all happened to come through the gate.”

“Shijiu.” A Yin leaned down, stroking her back and calling her gently.

Song Shijiu’s ear moved, and she slowly turned her head to gaze at her, her eyes still lacking brightness; only after looking for a while did she utter a sound: “A Yin.” Her voice was as young as a newborn’s, feeble and weak and faltering, seeming as if it weren’t taken into the ear in time, it would chase the wind. Li Shiyi gazed at her, her jaw twitching slightly.

A Yin furrowed her brows, covering her cheek with her hand, smoothing it over a couple times, just about to console her, yet a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder, and she turned her hand, hearing A Luo say in a quiet voice, “Let’s go out.”

The door was closed once more, and the few went downstairs one after the other; A Luo walked at Li Shiyi’s side, and said in a low voice, “It’s not the Teng serpent.”

Li Shiyi tilted her face, and heard her add, “The Teng serpent’s character is peevish; I’ve never heard of it causing one to be this melancholy.”

“Then what is it?” Tu Laoyao, up ahead, turned his head and asked.

A Luo also didn’t understand; she pondered it a bit, and then gazed at Li Shiyi meaningfully. “Could it be…she experienced one being unfaithful to their love. Her affections have been hurt.”

The three characters of “unfaithful to their lover” needled the ears heavily; they pierced everyone so that their steps stopped; Tu Laoyao didn’t dare to take a breath and looked at Li Shiyi; A Yin pressed her handkerchief to her lips and coughed. Li Shiyi cast a look askew at A Luo, meeting her gaze.

A Luo had first removed the soldiers, and the corners of her mouth delicately pressed into a smile, her pale hand supported on the railing, her gait delicate as she went down the stairs. The four characters of “putting it to rights” always brought along the guilty conscience of making a confession without duress; often, it would cause one’s frame of mind to improve greatly.

At noon, the chicken soup had been stewed with the richest fragrance wrapping around the entire dining room; fatty, thick foam floated on the top, and guarding the deliciousness of the clear soup incredibly well. Tu Laoyao carried a bowl and chopsticks up to call Song Shijiu, and the group crowded around the table, waiting a while, and only then saw her steps timidly float down, having switched into a moon-white qipao. Her long hair was pinned up with a wooden hairpin, clearly not having been made up, yet there was an impression of “pale enough to know more beauty than a flower”, causing her features to be clear and splendid enough to move one, unable to be reproduced. Li Shiyi tilted her head and looked at her, still obstinately feeling that the Teng serpent had produced some effect. That effect was subtle but bright; it was only that the sense of a woman having been sequestered away for a long time already had seeped out from her, fighting with the original immaturity and softness, faintly about to occupy the current winning place. Or, perhaps, what had caused the ripening of the fruit in her wasn’t, in fact, the Teng serpent, but the indistinct melancholy between her brows, and the sense of utter lack of reservation anymore that was in every movement. For example, when she lowered her eyelashes, not even giving a single glance to Li Shiyi.

Li Shiyi placed the bowl before her, and she hurriedly swept a glance. Li Shiyi passed the chopsticks to her, intentionally holding the centre portion, and she paused at the distant end, pulling the chopsticks over. “Thanks,” she said with the sound of an insect.

Alternating between confusion and alienation caused Li Shiyi complex feelings, her chest moving with an acerbity. Tu Laoyao dug into the food, his eyes unwilling to rise, wishing he could be born of them both.

A Yin paid attention to Song Shijiu, not paying attention to A Luo placing a piece of chicken into her bowl, only instinctively giving a word of “thanks”. A Luo gazed at her with eyes with a multitude of gentleness, and then took the chicken back.

She’d eat it herself.

A Yin gazed at her in astonishment, looking at her slowly chewing cheek, and controlled her brows. Suddenly, she understood something, and she lowered her head, pressing her lips together in a smile.

Not speaking when eating or sleeping, the group even peacefully finished eating, and Tu Laoyao volunteered to tidy up the bowls tableware; A Yin saw Song Shijiu hadn’t vomited this time, and in any case, relaxed a bit, saying that she was incredibly travelworn, and went upstairs to rest.

The residence sank into the tranquility of a mid-day nap; Li Shiyi laid her head on her pillow, unable to sleep anyway, and went to take a stroll in the gardens; she watched the chicken feathers that Tu Laoyao hadn’t fully cleaned up for a while, then leisurely swung on the swing a few times, then stopped in the middle of the creaking and groaning, her right foot indifferently and lightly kicking stones. She suddenly thought of that night, seeing the woman young woman dancing in the garden, the moonlight draping over her body like silk gauze, wrapping her in a glistening dazzle; she was entirely unaware, that she had left this sort of beautiful image branded on the eyes of the person standing aloof and remote by the side of the window. Li Shiyi raised her eyes to the second floor; Song Shijiu’s room was entirely pitch-black, the curtains pulled tight, no longer giving one the opportunity to pry in.

The sense of loss came suddenly, causing Li Shiyi to lose the inclination to appreciate the flowers; she lowered her head and walked back; she had just walked to the great door, when she was caught off guard, bumping into Song Shijiu, who was about to go out.

She was wearing flat shoes, the top of her head only reaching the middle of Li Shiyi’s nose; seeing her, she was somewhat startled, but then she hurriedly lowered her head, retreating half a step to allow her to pass. The fire that had been held back for a few days suddenly appeared with a whoosh in her minute movements; her expressionless face was more or less the same as Li Shiyi’s expression of greatest anger; at this moment, gazing at her like this, she faintly tilted her head, even her brows not wrinkling.

Song Shijiu raised her head to look at her, her small, pale face placing itself into the middle of Li Shiyi’s line of sight; Li Shiyi shook her head a faint degree, the constrained chill in her eyes in a split second softening into an inquiry, and slowly and unrefusingly returned to Song Shijiu’s eyes. Her gaze caused Song Shijiu’s cheeks to take on a layer of chestnut darkness, and her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, and in the end she lowered her head, making a motion of wanting to go out.

Yet Li Shiyi didn’t let her pass. She stood in the middle, calmly looking at Song Shijiu for five or six moments, looking until she exhaled through her nose, and only then removed her leg, leaning against the side of the door, watching her walk out.

When she turned her head, she suddenly met A Yin’s gaze; A Yin was leaning against the railing, looking at her, her figure curvaceous like a porcelain flower vase. Only when she met her gaze did A Yin abruptly understand some things; so, before, seeing the emotion Li Shiyi had towards Song Shijiu, it was actually Li Shiyi restraining and covering up, only occasionally rising to the surface light as a feather, as if it didn’t have any weight at all. Only on suddenly seeing the helplessness and frustration she didn’t have time to draw back did it cause one to suddenly become aware of the existence of this restraint.

A large portion of the resentment she had towards Li Shiyi, flowing like an hourglass, collapsed like a landslide. On the one hand, no matter what, she was completely appreciative of Li Shiyi’s past care for her feelings, unintentional or not; on the other hand, she understood that affection, this trick, was a bastard; there was one who tormented you, and there was one who, directly or indirectly, tormented her; there wasn’t a single person who could escape unscathed, and there wasn’t a single person who could forever remain high in the clouds, enjoying the love and care of others.

She truly shouldn’t judge Li Shiyi as an injuring party. So, she shifted her steps slightly, and said to Li Shiyi, “Her condition is absolutely not uncommon; presumably, there is a reason. For now, go upstairs and rest, and wait until it’s a bit later, and I’ll go ask for you.”

Li Shiyi paused, and said to her, “Many thanks.”

A Yin smiled, turning around and heading upstairs. So, one day, Li Shiyi would say thanks to her for another; so, there would be a day when she could calmly accept this sound of thanks.

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