Chapter 79: Dreaming nine times of the lord for ten nights in the pavilion (IV)

A Yin came alive. Although her complexion was still waxy, her eyes swollen like walnuts, and her hair coarse and rough, having forgotten to use infused water, her waist was bent, and when she trod with her high heels, her knees were held straight, not bent in the sliightest, and she walked delicately and gracefully to Song Shijiu and Li Shiyi's side, saying she was hungry, and invited Song Shijiu out to eat.

She though of having evaluated her own selifshness; it was absolutely right. The rose myrtle girl's words had been "Daren's sick", and the point she stayed on wasn't the "sick", but rather the "daren" of before. A Tao had called out the distant "Daren", and in her heart, she'd followed with an "A Luo", and the more she repeated it, the more comfortable it became, so comfortable that the strands of her hair stretched out.

Perhaps in her unconscious mind, she still felt that Yama-daren possessed remarkable abilities; now, she could, without rhyme or reason, return, only bringing along a servant, and most likely, a setback couldn't occur.

If one were to say that she'd only invited Shijiu to go out, it still had a reason. She had thought through it clearly; since A Luo had never before changed affection and fallen in love, then she had the chance to, as a pavillion near the water, use her proximity to power to obtain favour; but having come to the matter of coaxing a woman…A Yin shot a glance at Li Shiyi, who was flipping through a book with a cold expression.

She felt it was probably Song Shijiu's extraordinary talent.

The extraordinarily talented Song Shijiu didn't waste A Yin's regard, and in a few glances, saw through to her delight, and asked whether or not she'd received some letter. A Yin wanted to ask her advice, but naturally explained the rose myrtle girl's treating of illness selectively; Song Shijiu propped up her cheek, sitting at Li Shiyi's side, and disapprovingly furrowed her brows.

A Yin saw that there was something wrong, and pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing her legs. "Tell me."

Song Shijiu asked, "Can the Yama from the ghost halls also become sick?" The next sentence, she spoke cautiously and solemnly, slim fingertips pressing against her lower lip. "In the past, it seems like you also were with her in order to cure an illness."

Her delicate, charming fluid glance flashed; this rose myrtle girl's treating the illness, was it an internal application, or external? She wanted to speak but hesitated, and shot a glance at Li Shiyi; A Yin had been flustered by her words, and seeing that she hadn't yet finished speaking, and Li Shiyi's tacitly understanding appearance, drew in a couple breaths, and raised her chin, indicating Li Shiyi. "Tell me."

Li Shiyi raised her gaze from the book, tilting her head, and gazed at her, speaking with pauses between each character. "Common cold. Does it necessitate 'announcing lewdity in the broad daylight'?" She gave A Yin's judgemental words to her, neither rapidly nor slowly, causing A Yin to blink her eyes blankly. Song Shijiu, at one side, tilted her face and looked at her; Li Shiyi was always able to speak biting cricisim indifferently and beautifully, and the four characters even seemed to be ascetic.

Song Shijiu's fingertips tapped against the table like playing a piano; Li Shiyi's voice also tapped against her ear like this.

A Yin was panicky; in the winter weather, she actually waved her handkerchief, fanning herself a couple times. In the field of romance, she'd become accustomed to ensnaring men through coyness, and she had applied the tactics on paper a good deal, but this courting, with real firearms and live ammunition, was truly the first time.

Without waiting for A Yin to fan the train of emotional state that had been muddled to panic into order, she heard Li Shiyi speak again. "In two days, I'll take Shijiu up the mountain; it can't be delayed any longer." She spoke half the words, and the remainder's meaning was very clear; because of A Yin, Shijiu's seeking for the Shengsheng had already been delayed long enough; now that A Luo had returned, she wouldn't pay attention to her anymore. If Song Shijiu's past had any more interconnection, there would be even lessmental and physical effort to pay attention to others.

A Yin's heart magnified the characters of "Li Shiyi wouldn't pay attention to her anymore", and without reason, thre was some disappointment and frustration; she raised her hand and pressed against her solar plexus, forcibly stopping it; the woman sighing and feeling jilted was truly unreasonable, and could take anything to the heights of "being discarded". She felt deeply that she couldn't become depressed again, so she hardened her heart and said, "Wait for me for two days, and I'll go along with you." Her mind rapidly thought of a method, and after a moment, she clasped both her hands, her palms letting out a crisp clapping sound, a plan in her heart. She rose, and then paused her stepps, turning to ask Li Shiyi, "Tell me, of myself and the rose myrtle girl, which one's better looking?" As she spoke, she brushed the hair by her temples back.

Li Shiyi considered it. "Appearance is the latter; A Tao's characer is a bit more sweet-tempered."

"Bullshit!" If they weren't separated by the table, A Yin truly would have raised her hand to pinch her.

Li Shiyi looked at her, her serene eyes like a mirror's face. A Yin, unreconciled, let her shoulders fall, and laughed to herself, pouting at Song Shijiu, and said, "You like agreeable and pleasant people; naturally you think nothing else is better."

Li Shiyi flipped through the book, her long brow rising. "Is that so?"

Song Shijiu shifted the hand supporting her jaw upwards, covering the broadly smiling corners of her lips.

This night's cold winds blew like knives against the bone, yet A Yin wore unlined garments, and wandered about in the alleys a dozen or so circles like a ghost, being battered by a night-long wind; the second day, her wish was fulfilled, and she had a fever. When Song Shijiu pushed the door open and entered, she was dizzy and muddled, and as she sneezed, she extended her hand to grasp at the mirror at the head of the bed.

Song Shijiu hurried to pass the mirror over to her; A Yin only drew up her eyelids to cast a glance, and seeing that it wasn't too bad looked, held it fast against her chest, furrowing her brows and moaning quietly and pitifully.

Song Shijiu's throat bobbed, and she looked at her with a complicated expression. Song Shijiu had always assumed that romance could arrouse a person's terrific potential, and it was because of this that she had been able to put all of her cleverness and intellect into Li Shiyi's games; but, gazing at A Yin, only at this did she realise that, actually, there were people who were just the opposute, and affection made her usual deftness with social relations shed itself completely, changing her into a foolish woman who couldn't become any more daft.

The foolish woman narrowed her swollen eyes, a hot cloth on her head, making sounds of complaint, and after a while, she stopped, and asked Song Shijiu, "Her sense of hearing is this sharp, yet there's not the least bit of movement?"

Song Shijiu consoled her, "Perhaps it's that she's ill, and her abilities have withdrawn."

That had reason. A Yin weakly nodded, and grasped Song Shijiu's hand. "Go call for her." Finally, she urged her, "Don't you dare tell her that I was the one asking, just say you couldn't stand what you saw."

Song Shijiu agreed, and closed the door, leaving; A Yin closed her burning eyes and counted to one hundred, and then A Luo swept in with a cool breeze and entered. A Yin's heart beat rapidly, like the final radiance of the setting sun; so, she herself could recognise her footsteps; so, in the past, she and her had been too noisy, quarreling such that it caused her to only have the chance to hear the sound of her footsteps at this moment.

She felt A Luo sit by her bedside, her gentle gaze pinching on the uneven cloth, and then she looked at the warm water in the coper basin by the side. She didn't speak, only placing her hands on the outer side of the copper basin, and A Yin heard the minute sound of bubbles, and a small heatwave came from the copper basin. She thought of the first time after she'd gone to Mount Wu with A Luo; she'd also held up a teapot like this, and the water within had boiled, and afterwards, she'd considerately poured a cup of tea for her. Then, she thought of A Luo's hands covering her own breasts; at the time, within her chest had risen with warmth, and she didn't know whether or not she had used her ability.

A Yin's eyelids trembled, and she heard A Luo ask her, "This unwellness, how come last night you went out in the wind?"

A Yin's heart swayed like a banner, and she opened her eyes to stare at her, the breath she exhaled scorching, and her gaze also scorching. "You could hear?"

"I couldn't hear," A Luo said. "From that day that A Heng urged me, I've been controlling it."

"Then…" A Yin was somewhat excited, such that her arteries rushed and pulsed. She carefully considered A Luo's words; if she hadn't heard, then she'd seen; perhaps she'd been at the window ledge, or perhaps behind the door, or perhaps by the street lamp, watching her all the while.

How long had she watched her, then? She didn't dare to imagine, especially because A Luo had already been ill.

A Luo removed the cloth on her head, placing it into the water, and then used some effort to wring it out, yet her voice didn't have any heaviness. "If you wanted me to come, then pretending would have been right; why would you be like this?"

A Luo's calmness caused A Yin's cheeks to become crimson, as if it were a joke; she didn't have the strength to keep retorting sarcastically, and only bit her lip, saying, "You're Yama-daren; if I were to pretend, wouldn't you be able to tell in one glance?"

She hadn't spoken this calmly and even-temperedly with A Luo in a long time, such that she unconsciously grasped at her cuffs; althohugh she'd made herself sick with painstaking effort, her lies had been exposed immediately, but she still felt that this fever was worth it. Because this sickness had wasted away her strength, and taken away her obstinance, and broken her unyielding character, the desolation and weakness in her heart had become magnified greater than the heavens; she couldn't stand up, nor scold, and could only humble her posture, and lay on the bed, quietly gazing at A Luo.

She'd become sick, and A Luo was also ill; they were thus unprecedentedly equal.

A Luo placed the cloth on her forehead, her fingertips unconsciously skating by her ear, and her throat itched; she covered up her lips and coughed quietly.

A Yin tugged at her other hand, placing it in her palm. A Luo gazed at A Yin in the midst of her trembling breaths, looking at the skin of her lips, cracked from dryness, still having the mellow, affectionate arc, the corners of her eyes tilted upwards, yet her pupils had the moodiness of lowering her eyes and restraining her gaze, as clouded with smoke as the tea she loved to drink.

The tea finished steeping, and gave off mist, waiting for her to enjoy it. A Yin had thought clearly, dispersing the mist, waiting for her to turn her head.

A Yin thought it over, and determined to not be indirect anymore; she clutched her hand, struggling to sit up, and said, "Nevermind anything else, I'll only ask you, does your heart still not have me in it?"

She spoke incredibly frankly, and it caused A Luo's mind to tremble; she raised her eyes to look at her.

The rims of A Yin's eyes were crimson red, and she spoke again, "If there is, I'll acknowledge my mistake to you." In her explanation, there was a return to the arrogance of the past, a bargaining, as if she were talking of a merchant who wasn't willing to suffer a loss.

A Luo pressed the corners of her lips together, and was silent for a while, only then asking her, "And if there isn't, you won't acknowledge your mistake?"

A Yin raised her chin, her hair a complete mess. "Yes, I won't acknowledge it even if I die." She'd thought it through clearly; if she had been wrong, then it was hypocrisy, and she'd trampled on A Luo's love; but if A Luo's heart didn't have her, then she absolutely didn't need to show her softer side.

The wooden window, which hadn't been closed firmly, rattled and crackled; A Yin drew back; illness had caused her to become incredibly weak, and also incredibly unconfident; she couldn't tell whether the swaying of the window at this moment was because of Yama or not, just like she didn't know how much longer she could maintain her own willpower. She looked at A Luo; A Luo's eyes, as steady as autumn waters, looked attentively at her, and her lips twitched, her pitch-black pupils firm with countless years' time. She said, "Admit your mistake to me."

She had waited an endless time for a possibility, and she'd waited to it.

A Yin had never before heard such a pleasant to listen to command. She gazed into A Luo's eyes, and heard her say—

You ought to admit many, many mistakes to me, because I like you an incredible amount.

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