The moment Qingli’s feet touched the ground on the other side of the wall, a familiar sense of dread settled over her.
She had barely straightened when a sharp voice cut through the morning air.
“Well.”
Qingli froze.
Slowly, she turned around.
Lan Yue stood several paces away, her hands planted firmly on her hips, and she was glaring.
The kind of glare that promised a lengthy lecture and absolutely no mercy.
Morning sunlight filtered through the courtyard, illuminating the young maid’s furious expression.
Her usually neat hair had become slightly disheveled, and dark circles lingered beneath her eyes, as though she had not slept at all.
Which, Qingli suddenly realized, she probably hadn’t, and the realization immediately filled her with guilt.
“Yue’er…”
The maid’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Miss.”
The single word carried enough disapproval to make even Qingli wince, and for several seconds, neither spoke.
Lan Yue simply stared at her, and Qingli stared back.
The silence grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Finally, Lan Yue threw her hands into the air.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
Her voice cracked slightly at the end.
The anger remained, but beneath it Qingli heard something else.
Fear.
Real fear.
“I woke up yesterday morning and you were gone!” Lan Yue continued.
“Gone! No note. No message. No explanation.” The maid marched forward, and Qingli instinctively took a step back which Lan Yue followed.
“You know there are wild animals out there!”
Another step.
“Bandits.”
Another step.
“Cliffs.”
Another step.
“Poisonous snakes.”
By now Qingli had retreated halfway across the courtyard.
“I know—”
“No, you don’t know!”
Lan Yue interrupted immediately.
“If you knew, you wouldn’t have vanished for an entire night!”
Qingli opened her mouth, then decided against it and closed it again.
Because, unfortunately, Lan Yue had a point.
The maid stopped directly in front of her and crossed her arms and her eyes were suspiciously bright.
As though she had spent the entire night trying not to cry.
The sight made Qingli’s heart ache.
“I’m sorry.”
The words were soft.
Sincere.
Lan Yue’s expression wavered…just slightly.
But the maid was not ready to surrender her anger yet.
“You should be sorry.”
Qingli nodded obediently.
“I am.”
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“I thought something happened to you.”
The words emerged much more quietly this time as the anger faded, but the fear remained.
Qingli felt a sharp stab of guilt, and without thinking, she stepped forward and gently took Lan Yue’s hands.
The maid immediately looked away.
Still pouting.
Still upset.
But she didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” Qingli repeated.
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Lan Yue sniffed.
“You worried me.”
“I know.”
“You worried me a lot.”
Qingli’s lips curved into a faint smile.
“I know.”
The maid finally looked back at her, then dropped her gaze.
Immediately, her eyes narrowed.
“What is that?”
Qingli blinked and looked at where Lan Yue was staring, which was her hand.
More specifically—
The jade pendant she had been unconsciously clutching since returning from the mountains. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
The silver crane caught the sunlight, gleaming softly between her fingers.
Lan Yue’s eyes widened, then narrowed again.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Qingli’s face, and the expression there made Qingli instinctively take another step backward.
“Miss.”
The tone was far too calm, and Qingli immediately knew she was in trouble.
“What?”
Lan Yue pointed at the pendant.
“Where did that come from?”
Qingli’s heart skipped because for reasons she could not explain.
And suddenly, facing Lan Yue’s interrogation felt far more difficult than treating a poisoned warrior in the middle of the peach blossom grove.
Two hours later, Qingli finally reached the end of her story.
The morning had long since given way to midday.
Sunlight streamed through the small windows of the western courtyard, illuminating the simple room where the young women sat.
Or rather—
Where Qingli sat.
Lan Yue, on the other hand, looked as though her soul had completely left her body as she stared at Qingli in stunned silence.
Her mouth hung slightly open.
Her eyes were wide.
For several long moments, she simply blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
As though her mind had stopped functioning somewhere in the middle of the story and was only now attempting to catch up.
Qingli sat quietly across from her, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Waiting.
Patiently.
The silence stretched, and finally, Lan Yue spoke.
Very slowly.
“You helped… a random stranger… in the middle of the forest?”
Qingli nodded.
“Yes.”
Lan Yue blinked, then blinked again, and shook her head to make sense of the situation.
“You followed a trail of blood into an isolated mountain grove?”
Qingli thought about it and then nodded.
“Yes.”
“And after finding an unconscious man covered in blood, carrying a sword, and looking suspicious enough to frighten normal people…”
Lan Yue paused.
“…you decided that helping him was a good idea?”
Qingli considered the question again.
“He was dying.”
Lan Yue stared.
That was apparently not the answer she had been looking for.
“And then,” she continued, her voice becoming increasingly strained, “you stayed in an abandoned shrine…”
Another pause.
“…alone…”
Another pause.
“…with a complete stranger.”
Qingli opened her mouth and decided to just nod her head.
Lan Yue threw her hands into the air and spun around, muttering to herself, before slowly turning back toward her.
The expression on her face suggested she was questioning every decision Qingli had ever made.
“You spent the night in a deserted mountain shrine with an unknown man.”
Qingli pressed her lips together.
When Lan Yue phrased it that way, it sounded somewhat questionable.
“He was unconscious for most of it.”
“That isn’t helping!”
Lan Yue’s voice rose before she quickly lowered it again, and she looked around the courtyard.
The walls of the western courtyard had ears.
Everyone living there knew that.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward.
“Miss.”
The title carried the weight of a very serious conversation, and Qingli immediately knew she was about to be scolded.
“Yes?”
“For all we know, this man could be a murderer.”
Qingli opened her mouth, but before a sound came out, Lan Yue raised a finger.
“Or a bandit.”
Another finger.
“Or an assassin.”
Another finger.
“Or a wanted criminal.”
Another finger.
“Or one of those wandering martial artists who solve all their problems by stabbing people.”
“That last one might actually be possible.”
Lan Yue nearly choked.
“That is not the point!”
Pacing back and forth across the room, she ran both hands through her hair.
“Do you know how dangerous this was?”
Qingli watched her calmly.
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
Lan Yue stopped pacing.
“Probably?”
The maid looked ready to cry.
Or scream.
Or…Possibly both.
“Miss, you are a young woman.”
“I know.”
“He was a strange man.”
“I know.”
“He had a sword.”
“I noticed.”
“He was covered in blood!”
“That was difficult to miss.”
Lan Yue stared at her.
Qingli stared back.
The maid closed her eyes and slowly counted to five before opening her eyes again.
“You are impossible.”
“You’re making it sound way worse than it really is.”
Lan Yue groaned and collapsed back into her chair, and for several moments, she simply buried her face in her hands.
The room fell quiet.
Eventually, her voice emerged from between her fingers.
“Was he at least handsome?”
The question caught Qingli by surprise as she blinked.
Lan Yue slowly lowered her hands.
“Well?”
A faint warmth immediately crept into Qingli’s cheeks.
One that did not go unnoticed, and Lan Yue froze.
Then her eyes widened.
“Oh no.”
Qingli looked away.
“Oh no.”
The maid pointed dramatically.
“You think he’s handsome.”
“I never said that.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I didn’t.”
“The blushing is speaking for you.”
“I am not blushing.”
“You absolutely are.”
Qingli immediately reached for her tea.
Refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Which only confirmed Lan Yue’s suspicions, and the maid stared at her for several seconds before letting out a long, dramatic sigh.
Then she pointed toward the jade pendant resting on the table.
“And he gave you a gift.”
Qingli looked at the pendant.
The silver crane gleamed softly beneath the sunlight, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, her fingers instinctively reached for it.
Lan Yue saw the movement, and immediately groaned.
“Miss.”
“Yes?”
“I have a very bad feeling about this.”
Qingli looked down at the pendant resting in her palm.
Without warning, a memory surfaced.
A hidden peach blossom grove.
Dark eyes watching her across a fire.
‘If fate allows…
perhaps we’ll meet again.’
The strange flutter returned to her chest.
Soft.
Unexpected.
Unfamiliar.
Qingli quickly pushed the feeling aside because surely, they would never meet again.
The world was far too large for such coincidences.
Yet even as she told herself that, her fingers tightened around the jade crane.
And somewhere deep inside, a small part of her found itself hoping that fate might prove her wrong.