A Quiet Homecoming

He Zhuoming shifted over, bringing her head closer to Lin Qingyun.

The white silk was wrapped tightly around his eyes, and his disheveled hair cast jagged shadows across the layered fabric.

His bright red sleeve was crumpled under Lin Qingyun's head, and the silken crimson glow faintly illuminated the white silk and the tip of his nose, painting the small patch of exposed skin with a dusky, sunset-like red.

He Zhuoming stared at him for a while, but realized she couldn't see through the white silk to discern his expression—or whether he was asleep. In fact, even before Lin Qingyun had covered his eyes with the white silk, most of her judgments about his emotions had been wrong.

But He Zhuoming wasn't aware of that.

She whispered, "Qingyun, Qingyun, are you asleep?"

Lin Qingyun didn't answer, just lay motionless against the edge of the bed—he looked asleep.

He Zhuoming gently poked his arm with her index finger. "Are you really asleep?"

Lin Qingyun remained still, as if he truly had fallen asleep.

He Zhuoming blew a soft breath toward his forehead, making a few short strands flutter upward.

Lin Qingyun suddenly stirred and spoke. "What are you doing?"

He Zhuoming: "You weren't asleep?"

Lin Qingyun: "It's already way past the time you usually go to bed."

Lin Qingyun didn't actually know when He Zhuoming usually slept, since he'd only met her a few days ago. But it was easy to guess, so he said it naturally, in a familiar tone, as if he hadn't just met her a few days ago but had known her for a while.

He didn't think there was anything wrong with that—the main body had said, Xiao He must not discover that he was a puppet.

So he could only make Xiao He believe that there was only one 'Lin Qingyun' in this world, and besides, he truly was Lin Qingyun, without a doubt.

He Zhuoming rolled over to face the ceiling. "There's something on my mind, so I can't sleep... Hey, do you want to hear a bedtime story? I'll tell you one."

Lin Qingyun was puzzled. "What's a bedtime story?"

He Zhuoming: "It's a story you tell before going to sleep."

Lin Qingyun still couldn't understand. "Why tell a story before sleeping?"

He Zhuoming was stumped. After a long, hard think, she made something up. "My mom said, you have to tell a story before bed—don't ask about unimportant things like that! Anyway, I'll tell you a bedtime story!"

Lin Qingyun didn't understand but accepted. "Mm, go ahead."

He Zhuoming twirled her fingers, cleared her throat, and told Lin Qingyun the story of two good friends, Little Green and Little Red.

Little Green's chemistry grades were above average, and the teacher always said she was actually quite smart, just not hardworking—and, of course, Little Green herself was exactly that...

Lin Qingyun asked, "What's a chemistry grade?"

He Zhuoming: "It's a school subject, like ancient times... hmm..."

She tried to find an apt comparison, but her history was too shallow and she didn't watch costume dramas, so she couldn't come up with anything close.

She stammered a few times, then jabbed Lin Qingyun's head with her elbow. "Hey! That's not important! Why do you keep asking such trivial questions!"

Lin Qingyun's head jolted back, and he instinctively reached up to rub his forehead.

He Zhuoming went on. "Even though Little Green didn't really like chemistry, she thought she was smart and suited for it. Then one day, she found out that Little Red was better at chemistry than she was—"

"Little Green had to study to do well, but Little Red didn't even need to attend class to get perfect scores. Little Green felt really down about it, and her feelings toward Little Red started to get a little weird."

"That's jealousy. Everyone has jealousy—adults, kids, even animals. Just because Little Green is a bit jealous of Little Red doesn't mean she'll hate Little Red forever, or that they're no longer friends..."

Lin Qingyun caught on quickly. "Ah, so Xiao He, you're jealous that I learn musical instruments quickly?"

He Zhuoming, annoyed, elbowed his forehead again. "Can you let me finish? It's rude to keep interrupting!"

Lin Qingyun: "Fine, fine."

He Zhuoming turned her head toward Lin Qingyun and said, a little awkwardly, "I was a bit uncomfortable at first, but then you shared secrets with me, and I felt better. Still, I think I should tell you, because I was pretty mean back then."

"Wow—when you snatched the flute away, you were so fierce, your voice was really loud. I thought you were going to leave me and go off on your own."

Lin Qingyun immediately put on a pitiful air and complained, "It's not my fault I was born a genius. Why treat me like that?"

He Zhuoming: "...Was I really that fierce?"

Lin Qingyun said in a gloomy tone, "Yeah. You hurt my feelings."

He Zhuoming: "Fine, then I'll say sorry—but you talk pretty annoyingly too, you kept provoking me."

Lin Qingyun: "Did I?"

He Zhuoming nodded. "Yes, you did! Why did you have to clap so exaggeratedly and praise me? It's not like I played well at all!"

Lin Qingyun pouted. "Shouldn't you be happy when I praise you?"

Countless people in the world would beg for a word of praise from him—no, not even a word; praise was something they wouldn't even dare to dream of. Just a glance from him would make them grateful... Why was Xiao He so troublesome!

He Zhuoming said, annoyed, "Just because you praise me, do I have to be happy?"

Lin Qingyun: "Everyone else would be happy."

He Zhuoming was dismissive. "Others are others, and I'm me. If I do something badly, even if someone praises me against their conscience, I won't be happy about it in my heart."

The girl had a strong, unyielding self-respect deep inside, which was why she often thought everyone else was stupid, and believed the world revolved around her, that the sun rose every day just for her.

Lin Qingyun felt that self-respect in He Zhuoming, and heard her boastful words—his empty heart suddenly jolted, and he felt something for the girl's fierce pride...

What kind of feeling was this?

He couldn't find words to describe it. He just suddenly wanted to know what He Zhuoming looked like.

What did Xiao He, with her fierce pride, look like? What did the girl who could talk to him as an equal look like?

What did her soft hair look like? What did her warm skin look like?

He wanted to know.

He wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know, wanted to know.

*

He Zhuoming got up early. Before the sun rose, she climbed onto the roof to meditate, and once the sun came up, she practiced her sword.

When she finished and jumped down, she found a white-robed girl she'd never seen before standing in the corridor. The girl held a lunch box, clearly there to bring He Zhuoming breakfast.

He Zhuoming was puzzled. "Isn't Li Shui supposed to bring me meals?"

The white-robed girl smiled softly. "From today on, I'll be in charge of your three meals a day."

He Zhuoming: "Huh? What about Li Shui?"

The white-robed girl shook her head gently. "I don't know, and I don't know anyone named Li Shui. My orders are simply to bring you meals."

He Zhuoming was a bit confused, but she was indeed hungry, so she ate breakfast first, then headed to the east of the main hall—she'd promised to watch Xu Feixian's match.

On the empty square to the east, many fighting platforms had been set up, each with banners of different colors and patterns.

The crowd below was a sea of heads, jostling shoulder to shoulder.

As He Zhuoming stood on tiptoe, trying to get her bearings, Xu Feixian suddenly emerged from the crowd, grabbed her wrist, and led the way.

Xu Feixian: "My sect's platform isn't over here. Follow me."

He Zhuoming looked around, curious. "How did you get here? Aren't you in the middle of a match?"

Xu Feixian replied calmly, "It's not my turn yet."

Hand in hand, the two weaved through the crowd, past high walls, amid the roaring waves of noise.

Since she'd transmigrated, He Zhuoming had never seen so many people—it was like the ticket checkpoint of a famous scenic spot during the National Day holiday, and even louder.

It was noisy, but lively. Too bad Lin Qingyun couldn't come.

A flicker of regret crossed He Zhuoming's heart.

Xu Feixian stopped and pointed to a nearby platform. "This is Xuanhua Cave's platform."

He Zhuoming looked up. On the platform stood a large dark-red banner, with a painting of an upside-down white lotus.

Beneath the banner, a white-robed Liyuan disciple stood as referee, with two young men on either side.

He Zhuoming swept a quick glance over them, not registering either face. Just as she was about to say something, the two young men suddenly unfurled their weapons and clashed!

One wielded a whip, the other a spear. Their movements flashed with light, and the air cracked with each strike—He Zhuoming watched for a bit, then grew bored and started looking around at the others.

Xu Feixian was watching the match intently, her eyes unblinking.

Not far away were the boys and girls who had been bullying others in the sect before, also watching intently... well, there was one more person. The young man surrounded by them was someone He Zhuoming hadn't seen before.

But when the arrogant girl with the whip stood close to the young man, her cheeks flushed, looking modest and beautiful—a complete contrast to the way she'd shouted 'my father is Daoist Chiri' that day.

He Zhuoming never bothered to hide where she was looking, so the young man noticed her quickly and looked back.

They locked eyes across a small stretch of crowd. He Zhuoming saw his face more clearly now: a face that could be called handsome, with a slightly plain, subdued quality.

The strong plainness might have been because the young man wasn't smiling.

The young man's turn of the head was obvious. The arrogant girl noticed, followed his gaze, and saw He Zhuoming—she frowned, her expression shifting quickly into a fierce glare.

He Zhuoming wasn't afraid of her. She made a face back.

The arrogant girl rolled her eyes and looked away. The young man next to her had already turned his gaze away even earlier, going back to watching the match on stage.

He Zhuoming snorted and turned away too, thinking, Who cares about looking at you.

Xu Feixian suddenly spoke. "I'm going up now."

He Zhuoming was startled. "So soon? Are those two done already?"

Xu Feixian hummed in affirmation, then squeezed through the crowd and leaped onto the platform—her opponent jumped up too. He was a burly young man built like a small mountain, wielding twin battle-axes, with fierce eyes like cold stars. He looked like he could knock eight Xu Feixians flying with one punch.

He Zhuoming tensed up when she saw how strong Xu Feixian's opponent was.

The arrogant girl sneered with glee. "Ha! It's Senior Brother Li!"

The young man: "Junior Brother Li is no match for Feixian."

The arrogant girl bit her lip and retorted, "Senior Brother Li is already a Core Formation cultivator. I say Xu Feixian will lose—hey! Lin Xuan!"

One of the arrogant girl's lackeys stepped forward, fawning, and asked what she needed.

The arrogant girl lifted her chin and tossed the embroidered pouch from her waist to him. "Go to the betting stand and bet a hundred taels of gold on Senior Brother Li winning."

At that, the spectators who had been focused on the platform shifted their attention to the arrogant girl, accompanied by murmurs of discussion.

He Zhuoming caught snippets of the passersby's chatter and could tell that a hundred taels of gold was no small sum.

She quietly moved a little farther away, thinking disdainfully, So she's a gambler.

The arrogant girl's lackey had barely run off when the burly man on the platform was sent flying by a single blade strike from Xu Feixian—people near his landing point screamed and scattered, no one daring to catch him, leaving Senior Brother Li to smash a large crater into the ground, sending several floor tiles flying.

The match was a single bout. After winning, Xu Feixian signed her name on the winners' list, sheathed her blade, and went to find He Zhuoming.

She went to find He Zhuoming not because she considered He Zhuoming a close friend, but because she had no friends in Xuanhua Cave. Compared to her fellow disciples, with whom she had terrible relations, He Zhuoming's acquaintance was the closest thing she had.

Having just won a match, even though she had no friends, being around someone she got along with reasonably well was better than quietly replaying her victory alone.

Besides, He Zhuoming had promised to treat her to a meal the day before yesterday.

But after searching the crowd for a while, Xu Feixian couldn't find He Zhuoming. She finally spotted her back near a large sunken crater in the ground.

He Zhuoming was crouched by the crater, using the tiles Senior Brother Li had sent flying to build something. Xu Feixian walked over and saw that it was a crude, simple three-dimensional square.

Xu Feixian: "...What are you doing?"

He Zhuoming clapped her hands and stood up, kicking her tiled house back into the crater. "Building a house—congratulations on winning!"

Xu Feixian gave a slight nod. "As expected."

She was still waiting for He Zhuoming to say more in praise, but He Zhuoming pulled out a flute.

He Zhuoming: "So what are you going to do next?"

Xu Feixian: "...The rematch is tomorrow. I have nothing else to do today."

He Zhuoming said happily, "Perfect! I'm learning to play the flute—come listen to me, and if you think I'm bad, just tell me."

Xu Feixian was about to say she knew nothing about music, but He Zhuoming had already raised the flute and started tooting away—playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

On her way over after breakfast, she had been studying the flute, testing different fingerings until she'd roughly figured out which holes produced which notes.

Once she knew the scale, playing a simple tune should have been easy... yeah, right.

Because she wasn't familiar with the flute, even "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" came out halting. Halfway through, she ran out of breath, pulled the flute from her lips to gasp, her face flushed red.

Xu Feixian saw her set the flute down and assumed she'd finished. Wanting to maintain the friendship—and since Xu Feixian truly knew nothing about music—she said, "You played quite well."

He Zhuoming: "...Really?"

Xu Feixian nodded. "Mm. I think the Liyuan musicians play about the same way."

He Zhuoming waved a hand. "Haha, I'm not that good—do you know how to play the flute?"

Xu Feixian: "Do you know how to use a blade?"

The two looked at each other and fell silent.

After a while, He Zhuoming picked up the flute again and said sincerely, "Let me play you another one."

Xu Feixian had no objection. They steered clear of the fighting platforms and found a secluded, quiet courtyard—in the middle grew a tall, lush crabapple tree, its branches stretching over the four surrounding rooftops, reaching straight toward the sky.

There were stone benches under the tree. He Zhuoming pulled out a handkerchief, wiped the fallen petals off the bench, invited Xu Feixian to sit facing her, then played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" again for her.