When Chu Ming arrived at Yuheng, Yun Duan was polishing her sword, Wuyou.
“I heard from Uncle Wangyue that Junior Sister Yun Duan will also be attending the Dao Conference in Tianwaitian with us?”
Chu Ming stood a few steps away, greeting her politely. Yun Duan nodded slightly and said, “Is there any inconvenience with that?”
“Of course not.” Chu Ming waved his hand, “Although the participant invitations from Qingyu have already been sent to Tianwaitian, Junior Sister Yun Duan is different. Even if you decided to go at the last minute, no cultivator would complain.”
In Qingyu, Chu Ming could be considered one of the few people she could exchange a few words with. While they couldn’t be called close, due to some unspoken connections, Yun Duan was aware that he had been caring about her all these years, and thus was willing to talk to him a bit more. She set aside the soft cloth she had been using to wipe the sword and explained, “I hadn’t planned to go because I had other arrangements, but now that my schedule has changed, my Master has decided to let me go for a visit.”
She didn’t mention what her original plans were, but Chu Ming quickly reacted, saying, “Was it about the previous task to investigate Biluo Huangquan?”
Yun Duan nodded in acknowledgment, “Yes. Biluo Huangquan has been collecting herbs fiercely lately, which is indeed noteworthy. However, the latest reports say they suddenly stopped collecting, and the demon lord seems to have gone out, whereabouts unknown. I thought about it and felt there was no need to investigate while the demon lord is absent.”
After all, it was just collecting herbs, not anything heinous. Although Yun Duan didn’t have a good impression of demons, she wouldn’t completely deny them either. As she spoke, she returned her attention to Wuyou, wiping away the water stains on the sword, then elegantly twirled the sword before sheathing it, politely nodding to Chu Ming, “I’ll trouble Senior Brother Chu Ming for the Dao Conference.”
“No need to be polite. It’s just that I’ll be calling one more person when we leave tomorrow,” Chu Ming replied nonchalantly, then changed the topic, “Why is Junior Sister Yun Duan personally taking care of Wuyou? Are you not trusting the workers to maintain it?”
Subconsciously placing her hand on the hilt of Wuyou at her waist, Yun Duan shook her head, “Wuyou has developed a sword spirit recently, so it’s not allowed to be touched by others.”
“Ah.” Chu Ming realized, glancing at Wuyou several times, as if wanting to say something but hesitating. Finally, he muttered vaguely, “…It’s quite similar.”
Yun Duan didn’t respond. She actually knew what Chu Ming was thinking, but since he thought she had forgotten, she could only pretend to forget, unable to break the silence or speak up, simply lowering her gaze to hide the turbulent and complex emotions within her eyes, her hand on the sword hilt tightening slightly.
It had been nearly ten years since she harbored feelings she couldn’t mention to anyone.
In this time, the only thing she could associate with that person was this sword, Wuyou.
Yun Duan hadn’t really thought about what might happen during this trip to the Dao Conference.
At this point, the act of searching felt more like a habitual shadow. When she decided to attend the Dao Conference at the last minute, she considered asking Pei Chen for help in visiting the ghost realm, but she didn’t really hold out much hope.
After all, so much time had passed, it seemed like not finding her was the norm. Even if Yun Duan was reluctant to think about it, she had to admit that deep inside her, perhaps a part of her had already collapsed, like a bottomless pit exuding coldness.
So, when the person she had been searching for suddenly appeared in front of her, Yun Duan was engulfed in indescribable self-loathing.
—Why hadn’t she noticed?
The night was dark, and not far away, the person who instinctively turned to run upon seeing her stood there, seemingly at a loss, not knowing if it was her previous reprimands that caused the hesitation or if there was something guilty weighing on her heart.
She casually urged Wuyou to pursue, but when it came in contact with that person’s sword hilt, it showed no unusual reaction, merely obediently spiraling down according to her pushing force, then embedding itself into the ground in front of that person. The sword trembled slightly from the action, much like the tumultuous waves of emotion surging through Yun Duan moments later.
The face was unfamiliar, and the figure differed slightly from her memories, but still—
Why hadn’t she noticed?
In an instant, her breath became difficult, and it was almost as if she would brush past Yun Duan at such a close distance, trembling uncontrollably. Panic, joy, self-reproach, and longing all surged together, clouding her mind. The overwhelming emotions seemed to temporarily rob her of the ability to speak, leaving Yun Duan staring at the figure in front of her, unable to utter a single word.
Whether to call it fortunate or not, the person in front of her reacted even faster than she did.
Yun Duan saw that person slowly turn on their heel, casting a familiar yet strange glance, as if crossing nearly ten years of despairing time.
That person forced a stiff smile, speaking in a distant yet polite tone, “I was startled just now. I didn’t know it was you, Jun Zhong.”
A chilling wind swept through the hole in her heart. Although the real time was brief, Yun Duan felt as if that moment stretched on for a long, long time. The bone-chilling coldness passed, followed by a gradual rising numbness and pain.
At that moment, Yun Duan clearly realized why she hadn’t noticed, why the person in front of her behaved this way, and why she hadn’t been able to find her all these years.
Simply put, it was because Shang Can didn’t want to be found by her.
That night, Yun Duan didn’t leave. She didn’t want to stray too far, but fearing that Shang Can might notice something, she ultimately stayed close enough to see the door to Shang Can’s room from a distance and stood there all night.
As the night deepened and the dew grew heavy, Yun Duan later recalled that she couldn’t remember what she had been thinking during that time, only that the night was particularly cold, unlike early spring.
She knew that Shang Can’s behavior implied she didn’t want to acknowledge her. Yun Duan cast her gaze down at the roster of attendees for the Dao Conference she had borrowed from Chu Ming, her eyes drifting over the name “Gong Shang,” lingering without moving for a long while.
Why did she change her name? Had she also lost her memory, or had she learned from her Master to forget her, leading to this? Who was this “Zheng Yu” listed after her name?
The two names side by side seemed particularly intimate, and for some reason, Yun Duan felt a sharp pang in her heart.
Before long, she met the so-called Zheng Yu. Standing beside Shang Can was a strikingly beautiful woman, and it was evident from the way they interacted that they were very familiar. Yun Duan remained silent, not daring to speak much to Shang Can, fearing that she would involuntarily spill out the words she had been holding back for so long. The unfamiliar emotions rising from deep within her made it hard for her to breathe, and she could only dare to steal fleeting glances at the hem of Shang Can’s clothes, not letting her out of her sight for a moment.
Nearly ten years had passed.
In places unknown to her, had Shang Can already left her behind?
For the first time, Yun Duan felt like a pessimistic person.
Fortunately, this thought didn’t come true.
She soon caught sight of Shang Can sneaking out again at night. There was no element of coincidence; it was simply because she had been watching this person closely and finally couldn’t resist seizing an opportune moment. She felt she had done well, securing a chance to walk alongside Shang Can. As she watched Shang Can awkwardly wielding that mundane iron sword, her heart flipped through dozens of ways to phrase her thoughts, finding hundreds of reasons, yet in the end, she still couldn’t bring herself to say, “Let me carry you.”
Deep down, she felt a mix of grievance and unwillingness; now that the reason was right in front of her, she couldn’t hold back. When Yun Duan tentatively spoke, she was so nervous that she held her breath, and when she received a response, she felt lost.
To her vague and unclear words, Shang Can replied in her usual calm demeanor, “If I forget, then I forget; it’s nothing.”
She didn’t look at Yun Duan when she said this.
Ah. Yun Duan stared blankly at Shang Can. This person remembered everything, only not wanting to be reminded by her.
It was okay; it was okay.
At worst, it was just a matter of getting closer once more, Yun Duan told herself.
It wasn’t unreasonable for Jun Zhong to fall for someone. Who wouldn’t like the sun?
She thought this way and thus acted on it. Until later, when Yun Duan saw Shang Can unleash the famous Heavenly Fire on the Dao Conference stage, she didn’t feel anything unusual; she simply felt frustrated, thinking how nice it would have been if she had thought to look for Shang Can at Biluo Huangquan sooner.
Her Ah Can was the hidden master of the Can clan; with one strike of the summoned Heavenly Fire to protect her, it severely injured a majority of the demon horde that had cornered the many cultivators present, and as she left, the calm and resolute gaze she cast at Yun Duan was unforgettable.
At that moment, Yun Duan felt too anxious; she knew her performance wasn’t good after she caught up and recognized the holes in her excuses, but when she really saw Shang Can leaving from a distance, she still felt empty inside. She could no longer chase after her; Chu Ming was still beside her, and she knew that doing so would only cause trouble for Shang Can.
She employed some familiar little tricks and managed to follow Shang Can to the entrance of Biluo Huangquan. When she saw Shang Can appear, she finally felt a sense of relief. Although this was not ideal, Yun Duan secretly rejoiced in her heart amidst the many imposing cultivators; it felt like a logical reason had been handed to her.
Standing beside Shang Can, it seemed that Shang Can still cared about her. This was very good.
Yun Duan arrived at Biluo Huangquan. It was a place devoid of sun and moon, only the enduring lights illuminating the dim paths. When Shang Can appeared before her, mask removed, Yun Duan felt as if all the light fell upon Shang Can.
She had to exert great effort to restrain herself from telling Shang Can that she missed her.
But how could she endure it? How could she endure it? The time stretching between them was too long, and the yearning and desire to touch only grew more intense. Moreover, her beloved’s hesitance and avoidance were apparent, and the indescribable panic and sense of crisis burgeoned in her heart, prompting Yun Duan to take an action that wasn’t very honorable.
In the deep of night, she lowered her gaze and quietly nestled into Shang Can’s embrace, biting her lip to suppress her trembling body.
She often resorted to such methods in the past. When both she and Shang Can were merely disciples of Qingyu Yuheng Peak, she realized quite early that she had symptoms of somnambulism, and soon discovered Shang Can’s nightly vigil. At that time, she was still young and far less composed than she was now; inexplicably, she had not confided in Shang Can.
Shang Can always treated her like an innocent little girl, carefully protecting her at every turn. Only Yun Duan knew that she was far from the person Shang Can thought she was.
She had long harbored hidden thoughts, dark undercurrents that were impure and hard to articulate. During countless nights, using her somnambulism as a pretext to seek a warm embrace and soft words of comfort, she clearly understood her feelings for Shang Can.
People always crave that special affection. Even the revered Yun Zhong Jun was no exception.
Wearing the disguise of a sleepwalker, she felt an odd sense of relief in shedding her mask. In such nighttime shadows, it seemed that anything was permissible; Shang Can had no doubts at all, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. Yun Duan pressed against the familiar warmth of his body, mentally praying that the sound of her heart pounding like a drum wouldn’t be noticed by him.
Yun Duan led Shang Can to the bedside, taking his hand to touch an unfamiliar mark. The shudder that rose seemed to emanate from her very soul, sending a light tremor through her fingertips that nearly escaped her warm breath, but she held back, feigning casualness as she wrapped her arms around her beloved’s neck.
In the darkness of the night, the two of them clearly harbored secret intentions yet embraced intimately.
This could work; this was also acceptable.
Rumors about Shang Can and Yun Zhong Jun ran rampant, which wasn’t something Yun Duan intentionally orchestrated, yet she was more than happy to let the world talk. No matter when, as long as their names were mentioned together, she always felt joy.
Right now, she had little to worry about, as long as Shang Can was by her side, within her line of sight. When she finally confided in Chu Ming, she felt far calmer than she had anticipated. Yun Duan thought it was no big deal; since she had already found Shang Can, there was nothing that could separate them again.
Except for Shang Can’s ambiguous feelings and the past she always avoided discussing.
The strange occurrences in the woods frightened Yun Duan greatly. She was angry at Shang Can for refusing to reveal the truth, yet realized that at that moment, she had no grounds to be angry with him. The conflicting emotions twisted within her, and Yun Duan ultimately decided not to press too hard; perhaps a gradual approach was the better strategy. After all, Shang Can probably felt she had forgotten him, which was why he chose to stay by her side—it wasn’t yet time.
She was inherently a patient person; it was natural for anyone to be unable to restrain themselves when faced with what they desired most.
After all, she also had things she was concealing from Shang Can. They were headed to the ghost realm, but Yun Duan hadn’t mentioned that she had been there many times before. The emotions she felt then were undeniably different from now, and the sensation of seeking someone who stood right beside her felt extraordinary, making the ghost realm, which was originally far from comfortable, feel strangely approachable. Holding Shang Can’s hand, she felt a deep sense of contentment.
Until Shang Can was swept away by the river of forgetfulness.
The event occurred too swiftly; Yun Duan was about to leap in right after him, but her body was abruptly halted. She soon realized that it was the talisman distributed by Pei Chen before entering the ghost realm that was causing the disturbance. As she turned and aimed Wuyou at him, her murderous intent was unmasked, sending the horde of spirits into a panicked flight, but she had ultimately missed her chance.
Pei Chen flusteredly urged her, saying something about Shang Can still having a breath left, while also mentioning that she was a pure celestial body and shouldn’t act recklessly. Yun Duan hardly registered his words; in that brief moment, she recalled how she had given the jade talisman that ensured her safety to Shang Can, disguised as a paper crane, and now at least the spiritual energy was still present. No signs of any technique activation had emerged, which helped her regain a semblance of rationality.
She knew Pei Chen was making valid points; they were in the ghost realm, not their home turf, and causing a ruckus would benefit no one. Moreover, she was particularly vulnerable; any injury here could have dire consequences. Yun Duan believed she had managed to stay relatively calm, or rather, she had been forced to calm down. She went to the ghost king’s residence, and only after receiving the ghost king, Shuang Jiang Jun’s consent to assist her did she turn to leave, making several trips to the banks of the river of forgetfulness, like a thin, wandering soul.
She spent three sleepless days like this. Throughout, no matter what Pei Chen said about the entrance to the ghost realm closing, she only let it pass by like a breeze. The sensing of the jade talisman’s spiritual energy flickered, making it impossible for her to locate its exact position. Yun Duan had never encountered such a situation and could only chase after the spiritual energy time and time again.
She had considered entering the river of forgetfulness, but every time she reached out to touch the water’s surface, the Heavenly Fire on her wrist flared up. After arriving in the ghost realm, it had appeared much dimmer, no longer the bright crimson gold she had seen before. Its message had never been clearer: don’t go.
Its existence was proof that Shang Can was still in this world. Yun Duan had been called back several times by it, standing by the river of forgetfulness in a daze, her heart wondering why the river had yet to sweep her away.
Three days passed. At an indeterminate moment in time, Yun Duan felt a faint spiritual energy fluctuation.
The protective talisman of the jade was triggered.
A moment of silence.
Loss and recovery, gain and loss.
The world spun around her.
Yun Duan found it difficult to recall how she had spent those days. Looking back later, she wondered how she managed to stay calm at that time. Perhaps it was because the delicate Heavenly Fire on her wrist hadn’t vanished like a bubble, like a lifeline holding her from plummeting off a cliff.
When she finally saw Shang Can again, it felt like a century had passed. She was a mess yet somehow like a divine being, the Heavenly Fire had burned away a large portion of the river of forgetfulness, signaling the end of that battle. Yun Duan kept vigil beside the unconscious figure, and no matter how deeply she breathed, it felt suffocating. Watching her beloved get hurt while feeling powerless was unbearable; she only resented that she couldn’t take her place.
Or perhaps, she should just say everything. She thought dazedly. When Ah Can wakes up, she should just tell her everything.
That she liked her very much, that she shouldn’t leave her, that wherever they went, they should go together, living and dying side by side, okay? Okay?
Originally planning a gradual approach, Yun Duan suddenly felt a strong desire to seize these fleeting moments. Her Ah Can wasn’t a cultivator practicing in a sheltered and privileged environment surrounded by stars. Shang Can walked through the murky night, wrapped in a glowing fire, loved and hated by so many, while Yun Duan felt secure only when she was by her side.
Someone who was lost and found again, without having to expend everything to hold onto her.
In the dim light, Yun Duan made her decision. In front of her, Shang Can slept peacefully, her brows slightly furrowed, revealing that she wasn’t sleeping soundly. Yun Duan carefully brushed her fingertips across her forehead and softly whispered, “… Ah Can.”
At that moment, she felt an optimistic surge of courage inside her. She thought, since Shang Can also cared for her, what could possibly stop her? All she wanted was to be with Shang Can.
In life, one might not meet again, and one’s heart could resonate as if sharing a partnership.
What night is this again, sharing this candlelight?
Comment