Chapter 62 (1/2)

Chapter 62 Original and most updated translations are from volaretranslations.

And yet, why were things so sorrowful?

Because love was demanding.

—

After that day, I fell ill for a month. Luckily, Nongyu’s medical skills were brilliant enough to s.n.a.t.c.h back my life. Under his care, my broken body became as doughty as a dragon and lively as a tiger[1]. Because of urgent matters, Little Li had to return to the palace, but it was for the best. If he could convince the expectant Han Zichuan to give up on me, it’d be even better. The sentiment-injured Fang Hua wood was now red and would take human form soon, so Han Zichuan would never get his poison resistant wood again.

As we entered winter, the first snow fell. When my sickness was just about gone, Nongyu became absent-minded. He never fully recovered from the shock of seeing the spirit of Fang Hua that day. When I urged him to leave the mountain, he obediently agreed. The day he left, he left me many, many different medicines. That mess of bottles and containers of pills were both strange and familiar…many of the most precious pills I recognized as works by Second and Third. Who knew how they were doing now…but those things had nothing to do with me. Without a good-for-nothing master like me, who didn’t know how to do anything, their lives would probably be much better.

After Nongyu left the mountain, I sealed up all paths leading in. There were too many people in the world who’d want to peek at the Fang Hua wood. I just wanted to use my remaining time to stay by his side and live together.

—

Today was very warm. I bent over the bed to slip on my shoes, open the doors, and bathed my body under the winter suns.h.i.+ne, feeling strange. Much of the snow outside seemed to have thawed. I gave a lazy stretch and warmed myself up before setting to work.

Beneath the Wutong tree in the courtyard was buried the wine Fang Hua and I made together last time. He loved to drink when he was alive. With winter so cold, it must be unbearable for him, so I should bring some to satisfy his craving. Otherwise he’d get mad at me again. My lips curled into a smile. “Shào’er, do you know where we put the shovel?”

As soon as I spoke, I fell in a daze.

Around me, all was still beyond the glittering snow. It was awhile before I recovered my senses. The parrot had disappeared after telling me Fang Hua was buried at the yellow earth hill. I squatted on the ground, burying my head in my knees, and gave a quiet, helpless smile. So living by yourself really could get lonely. It was already hard for me to get used to one day, so how did Fang Hua survive for five years? The cold wind made me sneeze, so I rose to my feet to rub my face with my sleeves. I puffed a breath into my hands before rubbing them together.

“That’s enough of that. Time to find the shovel before Fang Hua gets anxious from waiting.”

I stopped outside one of the rooms on the west side, spotting a lock on the door. I scratched my head before circulating qi in my abdominal region and striking out with my hand. Dust splattered all over my face, but the force from my palm smashed the lock into countless tiny pieces until it ceased to exist. A breeze slipped out between the door cracks before it creaked open. I walked ignorantly, trying to feel my way about. Before my eyes, there was a scroll after scroll of high quality xuan[2] paper hanging from the rafters. A few rays of sunlight shone down…illuminating floating dust motes in the air…

I raised my head.

All of the hanging papers followed the same pattern, with the same person painted on each one. As the wind swayed the paintings, the person on the paper seemed to waver between crying and smiling. Unabashedly clever and good-looking, a little shameless…she was a woman dressed in men’s robes. The smile on her face flickered as I turned my body to look around in a circle, eyes filled with the images of this person called Shao Ye[3]. At that moment, my heart clenched into a small, hard rock, leaping wildly as it was suddenly attacked by a fit of melancholy. I raised my hand to wipe my face but couldn’t stop my tears, which kept falling until they soaked my fingers.

Fang Hua, you always manage to touch my feelings when I’m loneliest. But that only made me more morose. I spent a long time in that room before I collected my emotions, found the shovel, and went off to see Fang Hua with wine jug in tow.

The grave mound was nearly buried beneath the snow. On the other side of the grave, the snow was scattered with signs of melting. Somewhere within that snowdrift was a small Fang Hua wood. Whenever the wind blew, its distinctive fragrance filled my whole body, as if that person was still by my side. He’d say, Shao’er…the wine you brew was the best I ever drank. I don’t know if this time next year, I can taste it again.

My eyes were growing a little hot…

Master, Shao’er’s already remembered all the secrets to brewing wine, but there’s no one left to drink it with me anymore.

I lifted the wine jug and took a long drink, its pungent flavor making me choke and cough…I clumsily wiped my face with my hands and started to cry soundlessly. During the month I was sick, I never forgot to bother Nongyu to take my blood to Fang Hua. Even when I was only half-conscious, I’d clamor and make a racket until I felt the familiar pain in my wrists. Every time, Nongyu would feel both angry and distressed.

It didn’t matter what he felt. As long as Fang Hua had enough blood to feed him so he could grow up strong and st.u.r.dy…

I poured the jug of wine onto the greedy yellow earth, who drank in the rich and mellow liquid. It washed away the melting snow but didn’t reveal the familiar red Fang Hua wood. Squatting on the ground, I stared at the snow before pawing through with my hands…and was greeted with a surprise. A single dead branch stood in the snowfield, but the red Fang Hua wood had faded in color to sprout four limbs. They had the quality of jade but were even whiter than snow.

Fang Hua, you’re finally coming back…

For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was too busy to worry about the cold and sat straight in the snow, covering my eyes with my sleeves. Despite this, the tears still soaked through my clothes. Everything felt like a dream. When I recovered enough to look again, the warm sunlight almost made me dizzy. I leaned against the grave mound to sit by his side and couldn’t help but touch him with my fingers. The tiny hand on the hand slowly moved in response, and my gaze softened. Only then did I stop worrying and slowly grasp the hand.

Fang Hua, your hands are very cold. I’ll keep you warm.

Fang Hua, when are you going to grow bigger?

Don’t be afraid, I’m your Shao Hua.

—

Three months later.

Ever since Fang Hua first showed signs of life, I wanted to wrap myself in bedcovers and camp out by the grave on my bamboo mat so we could spend more time together. Though the weather was gradually getting warmer, my body wasn’t as good as it used to be. My hands would always shake. Fortunately, my vast reserves of internal energy and Nongyu’s stores of pills meant I was still holding it together. Maybe it was due to my lack of vitality, but I’d stopped getting my period ages ago. That was fine, though.

The Fang Hua wood in the earth had already grown a face along with its hands and feet. Its entire body was white and soft to the touch. Of course, I didn’t take too many liberties, afraid that it’d scare him. The gra.s.s by the yellow earth hill had started to sprout, spreading the its soft fragrance with every burst of wind. I leaned against the tomb to watch him, loving him more and more with each glance. I didn’t bother with anything else. Sitting by him eventually changed to lying by him, where I’d scoot close to watch. These days, the contours of the little fellow’s face was slowly growing clearer. He had a beautiful, exquisite face, almost exactly the same as Fang Hua’s…

No…to be more accurate, he was much younger than Fang Hua, but his forehead resembled him so much. With his eyes closed, he really looked like he was fast asleep. I lightly touched his cheek, and his tiny eyebrows scrunched up as if I was disturbing him. My hand lifted anxiously, but it was just a false alarm. His eyebrows slowly smoothed out again. What I’d felt beneath my fingers was unexpectedly soft, giving me a mixture of sweetness and sadness. For a moment, it was almost too much to bear. He really was alive and would grow into human form soon. I took a deep breath and knelt on a ground in a trance, before raising my eyebrows into a smile.

“You must be hungry. Just wait…Shao’er will give you something tasty to eat.”

I bit around a mouthful of my sleeve as I took a small dagger from my waist, slicing a cut on my wrist. Blood gurgled out to splash by the dirt at his feet, filling the air with a raw smell. I gritted my teeth as I squeezed out more blood, body leaning against the tomb as I tipped my hand to better allow the bleeding. My other sleeve rose up to cover my face as I turned away, too scared to look.

It’d been this long…but I was still a little afraid to see such fresh red stuff.

My head was so dizzy.

Everyone else slit their wrists to commit suicide, yet I was basically killing myself once a day.

The wind was very gentle. My hand drooped listlessly by Fang Hua’s side, the fingertips a little chilly. The temperature in my body flowed away with the blood… I heard a small breathing noise that turned my mind blank. Astonished, I raised my head and saw that little fellow still sniffing about with eyes closed before he found my wrist and started to suck. At the same time I felt something warm, he began to greedily drink, his head swaying back and forth in a daze. I could only stare in a trance.

The warm feeding noises brought a numb limpness to my wound that spread outwards. Some sort of qi flowed between the place where we touched, filling my heart with a strange sensation. My vision turned blurry as more images appeared before my mind’s eye in a chaotic mess…

Were these Fang Hua’s memories from a past life?

My mind blank, I fell into a faint and had a dream.

—

Springtime in March, the willow catkins floated through the air as the water rippled.

There was a youth of about seventeen to eighteen years old sitting on a stone seat, a sleeve drenched in the water as he released a white lotus lantern into the pond. This youth had his eyebrows knitted over a young and tender face and was unmistakably a young Fang Hua. Behind him stood a man dressed in white robes, the face obscured by willow branches as he spoke in a soft, pleading voice.

“Lord Hua, please help me treat my husband.”

Though the figure was dressed as a man, the voice made me realize it was a woman–one with exceptional heroic bearing. Fang Hua ignored her to stare off into the distance. The spring waters seem to ripple with anxiety. That woman stood for a long time before a little child’s cry rose from her chest. She helplessly tried to comfort the child, before speaking in a low voice.

“Even if I’ve wronged you, don’t drag others into it.”

Fang Hua suddenly turned around, raising his voice. “Even if your husband only has one breath left, so what? Even if I can cure hundreds of different illnesses, I won’t cure his.” So speaking, he turned away again. For such a mild-mannered person, his face could still turn red when he was exasperated.