Chapter 96: Yet with the xiansheng's closed jade coffin (VII)

Song Shijiu returned to the room with the same expression as usual; for a rare turn, Li Shiyi wasn't reading, and was sitting on the bed, folding up a few light grey coats; she raised her eyelids to look at Song Shijiu, and it seemed like a meager smile was hung on her face; she asked, "Will you wash your face? I'll pour the water."

Song Shijiu let out an "en", sitting down on the bed with her arms crossed, and watched the clothes Li Shiyi had folded in a daze. She'd folded even the clothes neatly and carefully, the creases like a framework, regular and at angles. She thought and thought; in the end, she felt that Li Shiyi hadn't been like this before; before, she'd been both done as she wished and been free and at ease; stealing from coffins and robbing tombs, if she truly feared the laws of the heavens, then why was she in this profession?

She gazed at Li Shiyi, holding up and pouring out of a copper pot, and felt a particular idea was faintly discernible in her body.

"What are you looking at?" Li Shiyi paid attention to the movements beneath her hand, and her eyelashes flickered clearly and calmly.

"I was thinking," Song Shijiu said, her heel knocking against the bed's plank, "Ling Heng has truly come to awareness."

Li Shiyi paused, and, grasping the handle, tilted the copper pot, setting it down unhurriedly, and only at this turned her head to look at Song Shijiu. She was this pure and graceful, such that Song Shijiu unfinished words didn't need to be expressed at all. Song Shijiu had panicked; she'd originally felt that what she herself feared was that, in the returning Ling Heng's heart, there wouldn't be her anymore; yet she'd never wondered, what if she herself didn't like Ling Heng? This concept terrified her and made her unconfident, but she only case a brief glance at Li Shiyi, and then shifted her gaze away.

Li Shiyi stood in the room, the moonlight cast over half her face, an enchantress like a banished immortal, her left hand's index finger spread on the washbasin's frame, her palm beginning to perspire. She looked at Song Shijiu with narrowed eyes, and suddenly realised that she'd never understood herself before.

She'd assumed that the changes in herself were because of Ling Heng, because of Taishan Fujun, because of that fanciful identity. But only she herself knew, it wasn't any of those.

Before, when she'd been alone, the heavens as her canopy and the ground as her home, she'd come and gone, bare, without any worries, and had naturally been confident and at ease. What caused her to be this overcautious and indecisive, this considerate and calculating, to have dread emerge at bad outcomes, was only that woman called Song Shijiu. She believed Ling Heng was the same; or perhaps that was to say, in the world, everyone who sank into love was the same; an unavoidable fate.

She widened her dry eyes and gazed at Song Shijiu, clear and bright, and the first appearance of grievance in her heart was almost unseen. Li Shiyi had, in the past, concealed her cheek to face strangers, and now, she concealed her emotional state to face her lover.

In the end, she didn't say anything, only traced her fingers along the frame, calmly and collectedly, wiping away the superficial traces of sweat, and then she tilted her body to wring out a cloth for her. The steam of the hot water rose, and, in due course, alleviated some of the weak emotions; but in the end, the night was truly long, and this winter day was also exceptionally long.

Song Shijiu breathed a breath, not knowing how she herself had had a mutually unspoken moment with Li Shiyi; that chattering girl of the past who had run around Li Shiyi was like a sprout that had been uprooted, and, without warning, had become an adult. It seemed as if it were because she had Chun Ping; having been grasped by that young hand, she'd instantly been clutched into becoming a mature person.

Song Shijiu walked over, until she stood behind Li Shiyi, and extended a hand, lightly tugging at her sleeve, and lowered her voice, calling out to her, "Shiyi."

Li Shiyi didn't turn her head; the cloth was held in her palm, and she waited for her to speak.

Song Shijiu made her own tone as brisk and lively as she could, but when she spoke, they still carried a degree of appeal. "In the past, you said, if I did a great deal of misdeeds, you would by all means forgive me." Her heart had fallen heavily, tearing at her originally delicate, charming throat, and she could only swallow mouthful after mouthful of saliva, only then able to block the aching spread.

She didn't want to send Chun Ping back; she wanted to keep her.

Li Shiyi straightened her back, turning around, and put the wrung-out cloth into Song Shijiu's hand, her jaw tightening, and then she sighed. "A Jiu."

This was the first time she'd called the person before her A Jiu; she said it filled with tender feelings, and with a seriousness. She said, "I can forgive all all of the offences you commit."

Song Shijiu raised her head, the hope in her eyes seeming to glimmer, flickering and fluttering.

Li Shiyi paused, and then said once more, "The precondition is, you have to correct them."

The light in her eyes extinguished with a "pa", more violent and rapid than any gale. Song Shijiu lowered her eyes, and said, "I can't do it."

Li Shiyi hadn't seen those bruised, cut-up feet of Chun Ping's, and didn't know in the slightest what the morals of the time in ten years and more were; but she knew. Whether it be because of her spiritual connection with Chun Ping, or because of natural keenness as a beast, she still knew it.

She exhaustedly dropped her shoulders, and said quietly, "I only just remembered; perhaps, I don't have that great of an ability. I don't understand how to send her back; what if I send her wrong, then? What if I send her to another year, and it cause an even greater wave?" She furrowed her brows, speaking at length, stubborn as an unregulated cub. She lit the hope in her heart with a great effort, and whetted her lower lip, saying, "I ought to keep her; I can forbid her from going out; and if she were to go out, to put on a mask, and not meet anyone else, and wait until ten more years past, and I…"

She had spoken a lot, yet from start to finish, Li Shiyi had been silent, waiting until the flicker of Song Shijiu's eyelashes was like the flutter of a young butterfly's wings, and only then did she hear a cool, clear voice say, "That time, when you forced Qin Liangyu to remain in the world, what were you thinking?"

If she'd also had this self-confident reluctance, assuming that she herself was doing something which would be to everyone's delight and satisfaction.

The cruel words were like a needle, and with a whooshing sound, they caused the brocade Song Shijiu had, with utmost care, woven, to be ripped open. Qin Liangyu? Song Shijiu suddenly raised her head, her gaze heavy as she looked at Li Shiyi.

"When Qin-jiangjun was kept in the mortal world, she was a strand of spirit, and the rest of the soul, although not complete, still could enter the wheel of reincarnation. Because she was able to stay within your designated boundaries, she was able to coexist with her own reincarnated body.

"But Chun Ping isn't the same. She's a living, breathing person. In a few more years, she'll be born, and how could the mortal world have two Chun Pings? And if she can't be born, then the Chun Ping of now, will she be able to still exist? That is to say, do you want to turn her into a ghost?"

Li Shiyi, even in aggression, was shockingly gentle, and her expression, from top to bottom, was like the spring breeze, consoling a faintly uneasy woman. Song Shijiu's face was almost bloodless, her beautiful, plump lips dry and cracked as well; she was silent for a long time, until the cloth in her hand had gotten cold, and only then did her spirit return. She muttered, "To become a ghost, it doesn't seem bad either." In the end, it was a bit better than returning and bearing inhuman torment.

Her gaze swayed as it rose, and she blinked slowly, as if she were appealing for the approval of saving a life. Li Shiyi met her gaze calmly, and only after a long while did she shake her head.

She was incredibly disappointed.

"You know clearly, that if Chun Ping doesn't return, perhaps the war will become larger, and the casualties will be greater; this time, the torment that can be seen is torment; then, next time, what isn't unseen, that's not torment?"

"I can't even save the person before me from fires and floods? Then what does a thousand miles' distance have to do with me?" Song Shijiu bit her lower lip, striving to retort.

Li Shiyi inhaled deeply, and pressed the corners of her lips together, understanding as clearly as the river that divided Chu and Han. She said, "If what the eyes can see is suffering, and what can't be seen isn't called suffering, then ought it be called good, or selfishness, then?"

Song Shijiu's shoulders trembled; because of Li Shiyi's words, she stilled, her eyes narrowing as if burnt by fire, and silently and vacantly gazed at her.

She was selfish; she'd always been like this; she'd been at Mount Zhongshan since she was young, and had grown on Mount Zhongshan; had grown alongside the laughter and play of creatures of every kind; in the winter, keeping to one side and warming themselves, and in the summer, bathed all together. In her wold, there hadn't been justice, hadn't been black or white, hadn't been rules and order, only the intimate and not intimate.

And Li Shiyi was making demands of her with the mercy of gods, commanding her to personally send a person she loved into an inhuman place.

An emotional chokedness she couldn't restrain finally emerged in her voice, and she said, "I'm not a god, and I'm not human either, Ling Heng; I'm a beast."

Do you understand what a beast is?

It's relying on scent and instinct to judge fondness; it's a dependence emerging towards the person before one in a single look; it's a courageously advancing fearlessness of death; it's throwing one's body to protect the treasure in one's heart even when countless people are entirely killed; it's not having any education, not having any erudition, not understanding the weighing and considering; a beast.

In the end, she didn't say this, only inclined her face to gaze at the firecracker on the table, and she heard Li Shiyi say in a slow voice, "In the past, you were a beast; now, you're human. You've studied and learned to read, and are knowledgeable and sensible. Xia Ji, Qin Liangyu; you ought to remember and learn from the mistakes of your past." She paused, and then finally said, the phrase seeming to be a sigh, "But you've always been like this, acting impetuously."

The four character fell, and at that moment, the Western clock happened to strike twelve times, the clang of the arm not at all noisy, not even as noisy as the sound of the children's amusing themselves with firecrackers outside the building; but in Song Shijiu's ear, it was like a verdict that destroyed the mountains and upturned the seas, smashing her cherished, attached past into pieces. In an instant, she understood why this winter night was this long.

Because mist had risen in her eyes, and frost had risen beneath her lashes; the rain water was warm, but it seemed that the rims of her eyes were excessively cold.

She gazed at Li Shiyi, separated by this thick mist; from the time she'd been born, she'd held her hand, and from then on, had placed her in the first place in her heart; she'd studied her dressing and eating, followed her, travelling extensively, and couldn't bear to be angry more than a night; the fragmentary love she'd given could yet stay a long, long time.

If she were human, then she would be the most foolish woman beneath the heavens.

Song Shijiu lowered her head, and mockingly laughed, her nose inhaling, and then she raised her head, taking Li Shiyi's face in. She nodded, admitting, "I do act impetuously. I'm this impetuous, only because I shamelessly, brazenly chased after you." The girl had, over and over, run into the wall of her indifference, and, over and over, stood up herself, laughing as she pulled at her untidy clothes, happily tugging at her hand. "Only because I'm this impetuous, after you undid your clothes for another, did I give myself to you without the slightest grudge." Even when the Xu Hao had stolen her joy, she'd still made an extra effort to encourage herself, unable to stand causing her to worry an extra shichen.

"Only because I'm this impetuous do I know that I had a past and have a future with you, and utterly abandoned Jiu-daren's prestige." She'd been determined to not leave, and so even her pursuing action hadn't existed, and she herself had truly been this sort of disappointment, laying night after night on the roof ridge where she could hear her breathing, and finally, summoned up her courage to walk back into that withered, desolate courtyard.

Even the tears she'd strove to control didn't give her face, rolling this disobediently down, causing her spasmodically sobbing chest to tremble, crying without any extravagance at all, without any unyielding character at all, without the slightest bit of deserved ego. She raised her hand to wipe at her tears, and said woodenly, "I truly am impetuous."

The grievances which had accumulated over a long time hadn't actually ever disappeared; in the past, they'd been firmly suppressed by her in sweet, sentimental love, and her longstanding lack of self-respect had also been firmly repressed. Now, they rose vigorously in rebellion, hitting her right in the face, hitting her even when she was powerless.

She didn't want her tolerance to be this small either. But women were often like this, not remembering well the upper bound of emotion, only remembering emotion's lower bound, just like saying she wouldn't necessarily remember, over and over, the mountains of daggers and seas of flames where they'd been born together and died together, but she would absolutely remember that, one day, she'd woken dizzily, and you wouldn't be willing to peel an egg for her.

Li Shiyi, hearing her tearful lamenting, with an expression which she'd never had before, as if the heart which had been gouged out was laid out on her face; originally, she should have moved forward to embrace her, but regardless, she couldn't take a single step. The joints of her fingers were curled such that they were white, and the veins on her wrists were visible, but she still stood steadily, eyes, which were burning to extremity, opened, looking at Song Shijiu motionlessly.

So, Song Shijiu had kept this many grievances; so, the love between her and her wasn't as healthy as she'd assumed.

Song Shijiu's choked questioning attached her aching heart like the howling wind and torrential rain, things which had been, before, burried utterly without a trace, drilling into the tiny cracks.

That person who was pure and indifferent seemed to be so heartless it caused one to barely believe it. But, hadn't she ever hesitated, feared, worried about personal gains and losses? Hadn't she, before, feared Song Shijii's dependence wasn't love? Hadn't she feared that, once she'd become aware, there would be a thread of regret? Just then, when she'd read the unfamiliarity towards Ling Heng in Song Shijiu's eyes, how had she convinced herself to calmly and easily wring out a cloth for her?

Just as she'd avoided mentioning that Song Shijiu had possessed her before, was that shyness, aloofness, or worrying that, if she knew, when she searched her memories again, there would be a thread of awkwardness, or embarrassment?

And, when having gone up Mount Jinyun to search for the Shengsheng, why had she, who had always been firm and decisive, delayed and tarried?

Her throat bobbed, her nostrils faintly fluttering, the words which wanted to explain herself never bursting out of her throat from start to finish; she raised her head, and gazed at the empty bedroom. The cloth had been utterly pittilessly thrown on the floor, limp as a scattered skeleton.

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