Chapter 225 (1/2)
Chapter 225
Translator: Nyoi-Bo StudioEditor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
When she got back to the horse carriage, Meixiang was waiting for her happily. Chu Qiao sat down quietly, her heart still palpitating from earlier on. Had she been too rash?
”Miss,” Meixiang laughed as she spoke, ”some things cannot be dealt with rationally in this world. I feel that you were too calm previously. Being impulsive for once is not a bad thing too.”
Chu Qiao turned around and looked at Meixiang in awe, clearly surprised by her intricate observation skills.
Meixiang continued to laugh as she said, ”Miss, don't you know? You give away everything through the expression on your face now. Compared to your past self, I feel that you are more likable now.”
As the horse carriage started to move off, Pingan walked over and asked, ”Sister, are we going to follow those people?”
”Of course we're going with them!” Jingjing opened the curtains and butted in. ”We're not just following them. We'll be living together in the future! Haha!”
Meixiang poured a cup of ginseng tea for Chu Qiao as she sighed softly. ”Miss, not everyone will wait for another person year after year. For some things, if you don't grab the chance now, you will regret it if things change in the future.”
The warm winds blew into the carriage as it lifted the curtains slightly, appearing like the touch of a mother's warm finger. The sky was blue; the eagles circled in the sky above the clouds, far away from the happenings of the human world.
Chu Qiao sat on the stone steps as she gazed at the sky over the horizon. The flowers in the courtyard were in full bloom, appearing a crimson red and a bright yellow, which was soothing to the eye.
The waiter at the inn, a young boy of about 13 to 14-years-old, sat on his small bench as he diligently prepared some tea. Jingjing and Pingan sat at the side as they chatted along with him. Chu Qiao overheard them talking about various topics, from the sceneries of the flat plains, to the ancient streets of Qiuling along the southern borders, to Xia's swordhouses, to Tang's Wuya Mountains, and finally to Yan Bei's Huihui Mountains. As the conversation started to heat up, Jingjing took out a packet of candied fruit and started to chew on it as she talked.
Meixiang sat under a camphor tree at the side as she tried to make a wreath. Her hands weaved around expertly and with agility, captivating the attention of anyone who looked towards her.
As the sky darkened, the courtyard was shrouded in a blanket of lights as the daytime heat slowly dissipated. Jingjing requested a few bowls of cold fruit from the kitchen, which looked deliciously palatable.
The torrential downpour earlier on had damaged the bridge in front of Qiufeng City. Chu Qiao and her party's schedule was delayed, forcing them to remain in Qiufeng City for two more days before continuing their journey up north. Presently, they were housed in a small inn by a hill and a lake. The inn was built on top of the hill. As the contours of the hill bobbed up and down, it looked like a forested area due to the high concentration of trees.
Chu Qiao's room was on top of a stone cliff high up, facing the west. The innkeeper was presumably a man of culture as well; this place was next to Sunset Mountains, hence it assumed the name of ”Sunset Courtyard”. Every evening, the view of the sunset was beautiful.
Zhuge Yue stayed in Guicang Inn, located next door. On the afternoon of the previous day, he sent some people to aid in the reconstruction works of the bridge and the crossing, along with the officials. He had urgent matters to attend to, hence he initiated the gesture of goodwill.
It rained all the way from morning to afternoon. The trees were lush; the flower petals hovered in the sky as they fell to the ground. The sight was charming.
Chu Qiao wore a plain white dress, with a wooden hairpin on top of her head. Her long, black hair was loosely braided, giving her a refreshing look. It was a full moon that night. Chu Qiao looked at it silently as she realized that the Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching. However, this occasion did not exist in this era yet. The period around the Mid-Autumn Festival was called the ”Festival of the White Moon”. The name was coined from a song which Chu Qiao had heard before when she was in the army. The song painted a picture of a man who went to fight a war for many years, being promoted from an ordinary soldier to a general. Finally, when he returned home after the war, he realized that his house had collapsed; his wife had eloped with another man, his parents and children had starved to death, their remains scattered to unknown locations without a proper grave as a resting place. She remembered the last line of the song vividly: The moonlight shines on my soul, asking you to return to our hometown earlier… From then on, this festival advocated the idea of a closely-knitted family - it advised people to treasure their families, and not to neglect kinship in the face of their achievements, only to regret when the situation was no longer salvageable.
The moonlight shines on my soul, asking you to return to our hometown earlier…
”It's a nice song.” Meixiang put down the wreath that she held in her hands. She turned around and looked at Chu Qiao, laughed, and said, ”I haven't heard you sing before.”
Chu Qiao was stunned as it dawned on her that she had started to hum out the tune subconsciously.
”This is a really nice song. Miss, do you understand the meaning behind this song now?”
Chu Qiao tilted her head to the side slightly and remarked, ”Meixiang, looks like you've been into educating people on the principles of life lately.”
”I'm not educated. I only know the simplest principles of life. How can I compare to you, Miss?” Meixiang chuckled as she continued to say, ”However, sometimes, the more you know, the more you are confused by those seemingly simple principles.”
”Day by day, year by year, I sit on the rooftop, looking at the village roads in search of my husband.
While he defends the borders, others steal from us, leaving the children with no clothes to wear, and the parents with no food to eat.
The emperor is far away; the warriors are not here. The evil village elder rules over the land.
As the storm and snow ravages my house, the moonlight shines on my soul, asking you to return to our hometown earlier…”
Meixiang's expression was calm as she leaned on the tree, blurting out the lyrics to the songs as some flower petals landed on the wreath in her hands. The white rays of moonlight shone on her fingers, making it appear like the wings of a butterfly. Suddenly, the sounds of a flute started to resonate from afar. It was barely audible as it was too far out, but it lingered in the air high up for a long while, not losing its charm. It sounded carefree and broad; a sense of magnanimousness could be detected in the melodies of the flute. Pingan and the rest were still engaged in conversation. However, upon hearing the sounds of the flute, all of them stopped talking. Even Jingjing, who was not well-versed in music, stuck her ears out earnestly to listen quietly.