At night, Danqing tossed and turned, then sat up from the bed, gazing blankly around.
Beneath her palms was a plain, brushed bed sheet, pleasant to the touch and designed for warmth. The quilt was a fluffy, lightweight silk comforter that draped softly and snugly. The entire bedding set was simple in appearance, lacking any patterns or embroidery that would elicit immediate praise for fine craftsmanship—likely because the old general valued practicality over extravagance.
A bed that was both light and warm should, in theory, allow one to sleep soundly until dawn, free from worries about catching a chill in the cold night air or waking up with sweat-stained undergarments the next day. It was far better than the hard wooden bed at the temple, so why couldn’t she fall asleep?
Qianzhi rested on the chaise lounge behind the screen on the other side. She was always a light sleeper, and when Danqing sat up, she opened her eyes, her gaze clear and alert as if she had never been asleep. She asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
“Qianzhi, did I wake you?” Danqing asked. “I’ll sit for a while. Go back to sleep, I’m sorry for disturbing your rest.” After Danqing spoke, Qianzhi’s low voice came from behind the screen, saying it was no trouble.
A moment later, the sound of rustling came from behind the screen, followed by a pause and then the striking of flint. Qianzhi’s graceful silhouette was cast onto the screen. The shadow moved away from the screen as Qianzhi, draped in an outer garment and holding an oil lamp, walked around the screen to Danqing’s side. She set down the lamp, sat beside Danqing, and wrapped an arm around her, gently patting her back with her other hand. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll go back to sleep once you’ve fallen asleep.”
“Mm…” Danqing closed her eyes and nestled into Qianzhi’s embrace. “Qianzhi, how about I make do tonight and you sleep with me?”
Qianzhi chuckled softly. “I don’t want to sleep with you. You hog all the blankets, wrapping yourself up like a silkworm cocoon and leaving none for anyone else.”
“Hmph.” Danqing pouted and mumbled, snuggling into Qianzhi’s arms. For some reason, she felt a deep sense of security there. Sleepiness washed over her, and she nuzzled into the warm, soft spot before drifting off.
Qianzhi didn’t mind Danqing taking liberties with her. As she tucked the silk comforter around Danqing, a dark shadow flitted past the window. Qianzhi’s hand paused briefly, but she acted as if nothing had happened. She walked to the window, her slender fingers holding a vermilion-drawn talisman, which she affixed to the carved window lattice. Murmuring to herself, she returned to the chaise lounge to rest. “This will do for now. We can return to the temple after tomorrow.”
In the deep silence of the night, the watchman dutifully patrolled and announced the hour. As he passed the courtyard where the young master resided, a chilling gust swept by, raising the hairs on his neck and sending a shiver down his spine. He instinctively glanced back, but behind him was only the quiet garden and the long shadow cast by his lantern. The watchman hunched his shoulders and muttered to himself about the fickle weather, which couldn’t even give a warning, leaving him underdressed and shivering in the cold.
After the watchman left, the chilling presence passed through the trees in the courtyard. The newly green branches lost their vitality, and as the wind blew, they snapped and fell to the ground. A black cat stepped onto the broken branches, the crisp snapping sound echoing abruptly in the courtyard. With a soft meow, it leaped and landed on the glazed tiles of the pavilion opposite. Its eerie pupils swirled with emotions no ordinary cat would possess.
With a flick of its tail, it dashed toward a corner of the General’s Manor—the direction of Ran Gusheng’s residence.
A night of sweet dreams. As dawn broke, Danqing was awakened by Qianzhi. The maids had already brought washing supplies, and they were invited to join the family for breakfast.
A warm towel covered her face, and after wiping it clean, Danqing silently grumbled about the healthy routine at the General’s Manor. Once washed, Qianzhi combed Danqing’s hair smooth and tied it with a blue ribbon. Another maid arrived, inviting them to the main hall for breakfast.
After just one night apart, Danqing noticed Yan Lingyu looked better than he had the day before, mainly because the dark circles under his eyes were lighter than when she first saw him. The old general’s wife, seeing her grandson’s improved complexion, habitually brought up his sleep, and Yan Lingyu finally revealed a smile befitting a child. No need to say more—it had been a night of sweet dreams.
The old lady felt relieved, tears welling in the wrinkles etched by time on her face. She took out a handkerchief and repeatedly dabbed the corners of her eyes, her lips curving upward. The old general’s stern expression also softened slightly, and he ordered Yan Lingyu to add an extra hour to his martial arts practice.
Seeing Yan Lingyu’s complexion had indeed improved, Fu Yun turned to the old general and his wife to discuss Yan Lingyu’s condition and precautions.
Adults had their own matters to attend to, and children shouldn’t disturb them. Danqing thought this to herself, not paying close attention to what Fu Yun was saying, her eyes eagerly awaiting breakfast.
Qianzhi’s cooking was excellent, but the General’s Manor, after all, was a military family of two generations, so the chefs they hired shouldn’t be too bad either. She wondered what breakfast would be—perhaps fragrant Malantou salad, stir-fried snow cabbage with minced pork paired with a light porridge, or fried dough sticks dipped in shrimp soy sauce with porridge, or maybe some rice-based snacks like glutinous rice balls, sticky rice cakes, or black glutinous rice. The more she thought about it, the hungrier she became.
Unfortunately, wishes were plump, but reality was bony.
Breakfast—large meat buns with plain porridge.
After the meal, Yan Lingyu followed his usual routine of practicing martial arts. With the old general’s order to add an extra hour, the morning passed just like that. Worried that Danqing might get bored, the old lady asked Ran Gusheng to take her around for a stroll.
“You don’t like meat buns?” Ran Gusheng noticed Yan Lingyu’s expression was less gloomy than usual, and in his cheerful mood, he ate a few more meat buns. As he reached for another, he saw Danqing had only eaten a small bowl of plain porridge and nothing else, so he asked curiously. “The meat buns are delicious! The meat is fresh without any strange taste, and there’s even broth inside.”
“Mhm, but I don’t like meat buns.”
“Oh.” Not getting the response he expected from sharing, Ran Gusheng’s excitement faded. “Next time, I’ll treat you to meat buns.” Danqing thought for a moment and added. The boy perked up again, his bright eyes suddenly making Danqing feel as if a golden retriever was wagging its tail happily in front of her…
Qianzhi came to find Danqing and handed her a temporary pass for entering and leaving the General’s Manor, asking her to go to Jinghua Pavilion to buy the supplies Fu Yun would need the next day. Danqing didn’t think too much about it, nor did she remember why it wasn’t Bi Xiao running errands but her, a six-year-old girl—weren’t they worried she might be kidnapped by traffickers?
Danqing agreed and looked back at Ran Gusheng. Ran Gusheng waved, unable to hide the reluctance in his eyes. “I’ll go practice martial arts with Yan Lingyu.”
Danqing had initially intended to bring Ran Gusheng along to broaden his horizons at Jinghua Pavilion, but then reconsidered, remembering that Ran Gusheng was, after all, a member of the General’s Manor. Just recalling Yan Lingyu’s face, dark as the bottom of a pot, when he caught Ran Gusheng sneaking out last time—that was not the face of someone merely losing sleep. Danqing raised an eyebrow and dismissed the idea.
Swinging the red cord of her waist token, Danqing hopped and skipped her way out of the General’s Manor through a side gate.
Jinghua Pavilion was a business registered under Zhiwei Guan, yet it did not belong to Zhiwei Guan. Fu Yun had said that Jinghua Pavilion was renowned far and wide, but few ever had the chance to enter. Fu Yun also said that within Jinghua Pavilion, there were more complete collections of scriptures and secret manuals than in the library of Yunmen Temple, more peculiar elixirs and talismans than in Chunyang Palace, rare celestial herbs and flowers that even Baicao Hall could not obtain, divine weapons lost to the world after Sword Valley fell into the hands of the martial and imperial realms, and lost musical scores and dances from Nanyi Manor… too many to count. Thus, buying from Jinghua Pavilion had become the aspiration of martial artists and even cultivators alike.
True to its name, Jinghua Pavilion was like the moon reflected in water or flowers in a mirror—elusive and intangible. Some had tried to grasp the moon from the water or pluck flowers from the mirror in an attempt to reach Jinghua Pavilion, but all had failed. Danqing did not understand why Jinghua Pavilion seemed like an unattainable peak to those people; she only knew that Jinghua Pavilion was really, really, hard to find.
Passing by several noodle stalls, the air carried the fragrant aroma of broth. Large pots simmering with rich stock continuously emitted wisps of white steam. The vendors moved with practiced efficiency, calling out the noodles ordered by customers, one bowl after another, much like servers announcing dishes. Wooden tables and chairs set around were all filled with patrons, a testament to their thriving business. Danqing simply couldn’t resist—she would eat first and search later!
“Shopkeeper, one bowl of stir-fried meat noodles!” Danqing, small in stature but loud in voice, spotted a customer who had just vacated a seat. She darted over and sat down, raising her hand and calling out loudly.
“Coming right up!” the shopkeeper replied without turning around. Soon after, he announced loudly, “One bowl of stir-fried meat noodles!”
A lean helper brought over a blue-and-white porcelain bowl with a golden rim. The topping consisted of finely chopped mushrooms, shrimp, and lean meat, stir-fried until fragrant, spread over soft, tender noodles. A rich, savory broth covered the noodles, making it appear more soup than noodles.
Danqing’s appetite was instantly whetted. Having only had a few sips of plain porridge in the morning, the enticing aroma now made her stomach growl with hunger.
She devoured the meal like a whirlwind, leaving not even a drop of broth behind. Satisfied, she patted her full, round belly, feeling her happiness surge. She took six copper coins from her shoulder bag. “Settling the bill,” she said, handing the money to the helper before continuing her search for Jinghua Pavilion.
“Little Miss Danqing, please wait.” After taking only a few steps, Danqing heard an unfamiliar voice calling for her to stop. Who could it be? Danqing thought for a moment. She often found herself in awkward situations where she misidentified people due to her poor ability to distinguish voices, but this voice truly didn’t sound familiar—it didn’t seem like anyone she knew.
She kept walking. “Little Sister Danqing of Moyi Yuan, please wait,” the voice said again.
She really didn’t recognize the owner of the voice. Unfortunately, with her short legs and young age, she was bound to be caught up with no matter what. A pair of long legs strode past her and blocked her path. Danqing looked up. The person’s hairstyle and clothing made him look very much like a servant, but his demeanor suggested otherwise.
“Greetings, I am the guide from Jinghua Pavilion. The Pavilion Master received a message from the Abbot and specifically sent me to fetch you.”
Having a guide was, of course, the best possible scenario. “Proof of identity?”
The two simultaneously retrieved an object each—Danqing held a clear, lustrous pearl, while the young man held a jade disc. The moment they were taken out, the disc and the pearl trembled, resonating with each other, and flew into the air, intertwining. After the pearl embedded itself into the recess of the disc, the jade disc fell into Danqing’s hands. From the moment the two resonated, the surrounding space distorted, and by the time the token settled, they were already inside a shop filled with a subtle, elegant fragrance.
“Danqing, welcome to Jinghua Pavilion. I am Duànyuè, the owner of Jinghua Pavilion.”