The overcast skies darkened the dawn as if it were dusk, causing the originally not too clear mind to be even more weary; Li Shiyi had yet to wake, and A Luo had left early; A Yin sat by the dining table, and across from her, Song Shijiu bit into a xiaolongbao. A Yin watched her with a tilted head, and, seeing her cheeks full and bulging, her almond blossom-like glossy eyes followed the chewing motions in blinking, couldn't help but say, "Today we're about to ascend Mount Jinyun; do you know the details?" Song Shijiu raised her head to look at her. "I'd guess, you're a yaoguai," A Yin said, her arms folded on the table, and saw Song Shijiu's slightly rising eyes were guarded yet crystal clear, her pupils both large and black, even more like the A Huang who guarded the courtyard of the neighbouring residence. Song Shijiu blinked twice, the space between her brows furrowing lightly; the knitting of her brows hadn't left wrinkles, only the left ...

The wooden doors, which had been lacquered to a vermillion, opened wide; the two sides, people and horses, one within and one without, stood facing each other across the distance; even this small distance in the middle howled with gusts, the scattered dry leaves bringing a rasping, quiet sound on either side. Jiang Changbai's heart had already stirred up in a perilous situation; she almost subconsciously was about to call out the name of the person before her, but these three characters were once more pressed down by the concentrated gazes of the people behind her. It couldn't possibly be her. Jiang Changbai inwardly admonished herself, and then arranged a calm appearance like an undisturbed, ancient well, and took a step forward, raising her voice to ask, "You distinguished person are?" The plain-clothed woman, hearing these words, seemed to be somewhat hurt, her countenance falling. "Dianxia, don't you [1] remember me?" A single sentence aroused a tho...

Translator's note: With 2025 beginning, I wanted to start a new project, and decided to choose one I'd been reading and enjoying lately which didn't have a translation for others to read from. I'll be adding Seeking Immortality in Vain to Novel Updates, so those who wish to track it on there can do so. - The capital was in complete chaos. Four months before, the state preceptor had raised an army from the border, and, under the pretence of clearing corrupt officials from the court, marched unchallenged the entire way, using barely more than two months' time to half of the Great Li's territory from north to south. One month before, the current Emperor Tai had taken his trusted aides to flee south in secret; under the secret imperial edict, the sickly Prince Ling had stayed behind on his own to defend the capital, and the rest of the aristocrats and nobility had also run and fled. In such a great capital city, there actually only remained the unknowing commoners. ...

A Yin's mouth wilted, and she let out a crying sound. A Luo's expression panicked, and, gathering up her clothes, she was about to embrace her. She'd never before seen A Yin be so unrestrainedly wounded; the beautiful lady who radiated colour and light all around, at this moment, had smeared rouge, the back of her hands wiping at the corners of her eyes, not knowing which course to follow, and then she turned them over and used the heels of her palms to press against the sockets of her eyes, and then she finally stopped struggling, her nostrils fluttering and flaring, and she gazed at A Luo, wailing loudly. She cried as if she were a bullied child, her features muddled and confused and in a disorder. The scene before her eyes had actually come to the level of comedy; the rims of A Luo's eyes unconsciously burned, and she blinked moist eyelashes, softly asking her, "What are you crying about?" A Yin's nose was incredibly congested, and only after blowing it...

Only then, in A Luo's cough, did A Yin remember her cold, and she once more docilely retreated into A Luo's embrace. If it wouldn't do, then it wouldn't do; could she force herself on her? Unexpectedly, it was clear that she'd been hasty. She yawned, falling asleep amidst the scent of medicine on A Luo's body. This sleep was comfortable and easy, even her curled shoulders growing buds, itching as they produced fruits of gentle feelings and honeyed intentions. A Luo and she nested together for a few days, and her illness was bettered by the nesting, her face glowing and radiant, as if having been dropped into and preserved in honey. She watched A Luo write poetry and paint; looked at the painting, and then looked at her. She thought of how, when she'd been young, she'd always wanted to raise a snow-white rabbit, and then afterwards, had wanted to raise an awe-inspiring black cat; but when she'd been young, her family had been poor, and afterwards, she...

A Yin parted her lips, her eyelashes, as if having been pinched, flickering; in the end, she didn't say anything. Her mind involuntarily passed over the past half lifetime, from the helplessness of her chin being pinched by an old female servant in the firewood shack, to trembling with fear the first time she'd descended into a tomb, to the long desolation and emptiness after the first time she'd spent time with a man; these things which tormented her were now easily separated. A high mountain rose in her life, which had been full of potholes, A Luo here, and the suffering there. She really wished she could be a bit more pure, and steadily and steadfastly receive this fondness of A Luo's. She lowered her head, her sharp face neither arrogant, nor brash, only pressing her lips together and drawing in a couple breaths, her hand twisting strands of hair that she didn't know when she'd grasped. She was somewhat unwell; she felt that she herself had grown a not very ...

A Yin grew more lively. 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 slightest, 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 selfishness; 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 Yanluo-daren possessed remarkable a...