Chapter 102: Yet with the xiansheng's closed jade coffin (XIII)

Sanshu's home was even more dilapidated than Xiao Douding's; the courtyard gate, which hadn't been repaired in a long while, clattered in the wind, and in the corner of the yard was piled a dust-covered dustpan and basket, the vine on the trellis having withered long ago, a few dried loofah gourds hanging down, and smoked meat as stiff as wood. Thinking on it, one knew that it wasn't often visited by its owner; even the smoked meat was dejected, hanging from the hemp rope that was about to snap, like a suspended beam.

Song Shijiu entered the room directly; the aunt had covered her mouth and nose, and was crying without speaking, a few tears dropping before she wiped them away, and she said with a choked voice, "He's beyond hope."

Song Shijiu grasped her hand, and gently patted it a few times. "No need to panic." Once she finished speaking, she headed towards the low bed.

The room was incredibly small, and once the group entered, it seemed crowded; Xiao Douding didn't want to let his aunt know what he'd vomited blood, and merely covered up with the cloth strip and opened his bright eyes; his Sanshu was laying on the wood plank bed, each cough louder than the last, the sound running his throat ragged; phlegm was gurgling in his throat, as if it was about to suffocate him. His face was even more ashen than the smoked meat outside, and there was no flesh left on his cheeks, his eyes bulging, white as a dead fish, and there were traced of yellow and red vomit beneath them and around his mouth; although he was a farmer, he'd always preferred cleanliness, and now he was unable to attend to it, not even his consciousness lucid.

He laid, exhausted, on the pillow, as if having been tossed there, his hands, prominently veined, clutched into fists, and they hammered against the bed planks; he hissed out, "Fuck, ah, fuck—"

The aunt hurriedly wiped her tears, and moved forward, letting out a sound of disapproval. His head swayed, yet he choked on his breaths, the air permeated with the heavy scent of rust, mixed with the hard to disguise stench of blood, yet he harshy swallowed it back, gazing hazily at the ceiling, and asked, "When's A Shun coming back?"

The aunt was startled, and immediately leaned over the side of the bed, sobbing wretchedly. Xiao Douding raised his head to look at Song Shijiu, and said brittlely, "A Shun-ge was cremated a month ago." At the time, his aunt hadn't been very able, and had tugged at his clothes, pleading for an intact corpse to remain; the able-bodied men in the village hadn't allowed any explanation, and had pushed his aunt to the side, and had wrapped A Shun in coarse cloth and taken him away.

Before even a few days, those able-bodied men had also been cremated. Xiao Douding felt that cremated was also good; in these frigid winter months, at least they wouldn't freeze to their bones. He was somewhat afraid; as you became ash, could his parents, underground, still recognise him? The Sanzijing he'd just studied, who would he recite it for, then? He had pondered it to himself, and hadn't told Song Shijiu.

The train of thought came to a grunting halt, as if one's throat having been choked by someone; the sound of coughing and weeping also came to a sudden end, entering a meditative state along with the dried loofahs, the scene stopping at the most heart-rending moment, stopping fantastically and comically, like a sugar figure's master moulding the most epic of shows, putting down the most marvelous, varied expressions.

The hovering rays of light were like the silk cords that could be fiddled with by anyone, the floating dust a fabulous decoration; the tips of Song Shijiu's hair swayed as she walked between the strands of light, her face in light and dark, slowly fluctuating in shadows. Li Shiyi's breaths rose and fell, and she watched her come to the bedside in a few steps.

She didn't turn her head to look at Li Shiyi, yet she didn't stop her either; Li Shiyi knew in her heart that she had other plans, and so she pulled out her smoking pipe, her index finger stretching out to lay between her right hand. Yet Song Shijiu's actions weren't hurried; she merely lowered her head, looking at the frozen Sanshu, as if attentively searching for something.

After a while, a squeaking sound rose, like a young mouse's cries as it foraged, yet a lot smaller; if not for the extreme silence of the moment, it absolutely wouldn't have been audible.

Song Shijiu tilted her ear, listening to the sound; her ear twitched, and her wrist turned like drawing blossoms with a sword; the black iron fan turned a perfect circle between her fingers, striking out towards Sanshu's three acupoints, zhongting, lingxu, and jiuwei,^[1] the loose dust on his chest jolted into shaking, letting out a sudden squeaking sound, as if its tail had been burnt.

Li Shiyi watched her with rapt attention; a few threadlike worms, like earthworms, burst out of Sanshu's chest; yet they were a lot smaller than earthworms, barely as thick as embroidery thread, eyeless and mouthless and gold from end to end, and when they cried out, it seemed as if it had come from the heavens. On exiting the human body, those worms wriggled a few times in the air, rushing towards Song Shijiu's face; Song Shijiu turned her hand, grasping her fan, and with a swishing sound, the fan opened, and in a couple sweeps, she obstructed the attack, her fingers snapping, and ferociously tossed them to the ground.

She merely used the corner of her eye to sweep a glance behind her, and before she could draw her gaze back, she saw two fiery blue talismans adhere onto the worms, and in an instant, they were burnt up. Song Shijiu tilted her head, her gaze falling onto Li Shiyi's withdrawn hand, which had just held the talismans.

The two didn't speak any further, only following the process to strike out the plague worms in Xiao Douding's body, burning up the few which had entered his lungs; Song Shijiu folded her fan up, and pinned it behind her head, her shoulders shifting, the magic entirely disappearing; the aunt's anguished wailing rose without stopping, yet Sanshu was as if his strength had been hollowed out, and he was sleeping deeply.

Xiao Douding blinked a couple times, and, with some feeling, stroked his chest. He turned his head, yet he saw Song Shijiu, who, just then, had been by his side, leaning against the wall, the back of her head pressing against the wall, her chin raised, somewhat weary; Li Shiyi stood by her side, putting away the smoking pipe which had appeared at some point.

Song Shijiu said hoarsely, "Let's go."

Her gaze was looking at Sanshu and the aunt, yet her words were spoken to Li Shiyi; Li Shiyi nodded, and closed the door, heading out with her.

She hadn't used her skills for a long time, and just then, she didn't know whether it was because she'd pulled her muscles, but the heel of Li Shiyi's palm ached slightly, and as she walked, she massaged it, her thumb pushing open first the muscles of her ring finger, then those of her little finger.

"Just then, those were plague worms." Li Shiyi only spoke once they were walking on the empty street.

"Yes."

Li Shiyi cast a glance at her. "You're saving them like this?"

Song Shijiu lowered her gaze, and shook her head. "Xi Wangmu is in charge of the punishments in the mortal realm, and spreads plague. The plague worms were sent out by her; they emerged from within the roots of trees, and hide in the five elements, adhering to metal, wood, water, and fire, hundreds of thousands, growing and multiplying without end."^[2]

Only when this punishment punished a mortal completely would the plague worms lose their host, and be entirely eliminated. And what Song Shijiu had just done was only clearing away a few which had entered the lungs, postponing the patient's condition. They would still emerge from the hair, from the soles of the feet, from the seams between the fingernails, occupying each cun of his skin, invading his organs, until in the end, his breath was exhausted, and he'd cough up blood and die. She'd frozen the illness' host, and exterminated the plague worms, and though it could save him for a while, in the end, it was his own strength which struggled to resist a multitude of enemies.

A number of times, she'd seen them get better during the day, and the next day, when she opened her eyes, she'd hear Xiao Douding come running to say that person had died in the night, and the next morning, been cremated.

The apprehension which didn't spare a single entrance caused one to most feel stifled, and caused one to most feel helpless. She hadn't slept well for many days, up until she'd laid by Li Shiyi's side.

The loneliness in her eyes was incredibly clear; Li Shiyi leaned a bit closer, the back of her hand dangling down, gently brushing against hers. Song Shijiu didn't shift her hand away, her smooth, fair skin brushing against Li Shiyi's a couple times, a vague dependence in the motion. Li Shiyi looked at the hairpin in her hair, and asked her, "This is your magical instrument?"

"It is," Song Shijiu said, tilting her head. "It's called Fu Guang.^[3] I brought it back from the cloudy peaks of Huangshan."

Flickering light and passing shadow; the fan was like its name; when Song Shijiu used it, it was just like moving clouds and flowing rivers, as fantastical as a dream. What made Li Shiyi pay more mind was that Song Shijiu had taken intiative to introduce it to her, the helplessness in her eyes also gradually replaced by the warmth of her pupils. Her fond attachment towards Li Shiyi hadn't been fully lost; as long as Li Shiyi spoke with her some, she'd become a bit better.

Her lips twitched; she didn't tell Li Shiyi that this fan of hers had originally been held in the hand, and the day she'd taken it, she had, by chance, thought of the way that A Yin had used that bone fan when fighting the Teng serpent, and had stuck it in her hair the same way she had.

At that moment, she missed A Yin somewhat, but she didn't say it, fearing that Li Shiyi would ask her—what about me, then?

Did you miss me?

There were some things that people usually didn't want to answer, fearing that, no matter how they said it, they couldn't say it properly.

The night was as cold as a river; Li Shiyi still slept with Song Shijiu. Today, Song Shijiu had gone to rest very early, probably because she'd exhausted herself through use of magic, and hadn't been able to muster up the hundred turns and thousand returns of intentions, and had turned her back to Li Shiyi and fallen asleep.

Li Shiyi closed her eyes, and, in the quiet alienation of the moon's figure, remembered the matters of the daylight.

The planks of the bed suddenly shook, a sound like a broom sweeping across the floor travelling back and forth; Li Shiyi furrowed her brows, opening her eyes to look about, yet there wasn't any other sound of movement; she looked pensively at the deeply slumbering Song Shijiu, and then closed her eyes once more.

Another half an incense's time later, Li Shiyi's vague awareness was awakened by an irregular, low murmur; that chanting sound was extremely controlled, as if pained, and also as if powerless, sighing out of throat, mixed with the scent of under-ripened fruit and the aged scent of wine.

The scent of sweat diffused, like an indistinct layer of haze; the bedding by her side shook faintly, like an insect which had finished hibernating bursting out of the ground in the spring. Li Shiyi's heart trembled, and in a split second, she was largely awake, gazing at Song Shijiu by the light of the moon.

A burning heat emerged from her from head to toe in wave after wave, the cotton sleepwear's collar partially open, exposing her sweaty cheek and shoulder; her back was trembling faintly, clammy, fine black hair slicked against her slender neck, curling and crawling into her clothes. When she moved, that strand of hair also moved, its appearance clear on that jade-pale skin, the curved shape like creeping vitality, the bow in a cup, the figure of a black snake, the rationality of imminent danger shooting the one who shares your bed dead, biting the long-controlled feelings of the person at your side.

Li Shiyi's heart beat like thunder, and she extended a hand to place on her shoulder, her fingers sketching out the light dip of her collarbones, and then, finally, she used the tips of her fingers to press against her jaw, wanting to turn her over.

Her hand hadn't yet exerted itself when she felt the heavens and earth turn, and she was thrown beneath Song Shijiu's body, radiating heat, her hands pressing hers against the bed. The dragon's tail, wrapped in a halo, emerged from within the covers, falling on the ground, following the foot of the wall to slowly explore.

"I was shedding." Song Shijiu drew a faint breath, her eyes, like peach blossom wine, staring at Li Shiyi.

Snakes had to cast off their skin; dragons had to shed; because she'd used too much magic these past few days, her body had a reaction, and was giving her a new layer of armour.

Her eyes narrowed, coldly and then charming in turns, in the end a wildness without restraint emerging; she gazed at Li Shiyi's thin lips, rubbing her nose lightly along her chin; she said softly, "My body's incredibly weak."

The tail at the foot of the wall rose, pressing against the wooden pillar and stroking. She said, velvety, "My reasoning is also very weak."

Before she'd finished speaking, Li Shiyi, beneath her, raised her jaw slightly, kissing her directly and without delay.

The dragon's tail swayed to and frow, and then finally retreated to the ground, knocking against the boards with a wet sound.

The heavens were expansive and the earth was endless, but there was only a pair of lovers, fuck the misunderstandings and the arguments about personal gains and losses.

—all I know is, I want you, so much.

Song Shijiu's kiss fell onto her beloved's jaw, stroking the network of veins and arteries on her neck, and then climbed up the raised hills, separated by the thin, coarse fabric; she worried them gently, still acting in somewhat a fit of pique, and in her back and forth, felt Li Shiyi's change. The hard summit between her lips was Li Shiyi's unreasonableness, and the soft support was Li Shiyi's tender, honeyed intentions. She needed to sample it over and over, and only then could she hold the entirety of her love in her mouth through the fabric.

Without another movement, Song Shijiu stopped, and watched Li Shiyi's eyes attentively, and said softly, "I want…"

"Alright." Li Shiyi's reply was gentle.

"That's not it," Song Shijiu said, shaking her head, and bit her lower lip, like smoothing a petal, and tugged at it slightly before letting go; she corrected, "That's not all of it."

"Alright," Li Shiyi said once more. She paused, and then said, "I'll help you."

She didn't need Song Shijiu to speak; she understood that it wasn't only tonight that Song Shijiu wanted to do these disgraceful things.

Song Shijiu had originally assumed that Li Shiyi would argue with her once more, blaming her for acting impetuously, yet she had never though Li Shiyi would say—I'll help you.

Her appearance of reconciliation was set out incredibly earnestly, and these three characters were turned into a phrase of love.

Song Shijiu pillowed her head in the hollow of Li Shiyi's neck, and felt it was inexplicably pleasant to hear.

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Translator's notes:

[1]: 中庭, 灵墟, and 鸠尾; respectively, the sternum at the fifth intercostal space, the sternum at the third intercostal space, and the anterior median line of the upper abdomen.

[2]: According to the author's notes, while the concept of plague worms was invented by her, the placement of Xi Wangmu as the punisher of mortals and the origin of pestilence comes from the work The Tale of King Mu, Son of Heaven (穆天子传, Mu Tianzi Zhuan).

[3]: 浮光, literally "Flickering Light".