Afternoon.
The leaves of the old plum tree rustled in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches, breaking into golden flecks that landed on Bai Qingxue's shoulders.
The old plum tree had passed its flowering season, its branches now covered only in lush green leaves. The edges of the leaves were tinged with a faint yellow, a mark of autumn.
Bai Qingxue sat by the stone table, drinking tea.
She had changed into a moon-white outer robe, its collar meticulously folded, concealing the faint red marks left by the restriction on her wrists and neck.
Bai Qingxue's long hair was loose, neither tied up nor gathered with a hair ribbon.
Her silver-white strands shimmered softly in the afternoon sun, lustrous like moonlight, as if moonlight had been forgotten on earth after dawn and condensed into threads.
A few wisps of hair fell beside Bai Qingxue's face, gently swaying in the breeze, their tips brushing against her cheek, bringing a subtle itch that she didn't bother to push away.
The tea before Bai Qingxue had been freshly brewed with well water, which was slightly more astringent than the spring water from the morning, but refreshingly cool.
Bai Qingxue held her teacup, sipping slowly, her gaze fixed on the grass leaves in the courtyard swaying in the wind, lost in thought.
Meanwhile, the door to the side room opened again.
Ning Qinghan walked out.
She was still barefoot, stepping onto the bluestone slabs warmed by the sun.
However, she had changed her clothes.
No longer wearing the grayish-blue sleeping clothes from last night, she was now dressed in a deep green long gown. The fabric of this gown was thicker than her sleeping clothes, yet still soft, clinging to her body and outlining her graceful figure.
Ning Qinghan's sleeves were wide, almost covering her fingers when they hung down, revealing only a few fingertips.
The sash around her waist hung loosely, untied, swaying with the rhythm of her steps as she walked, like a lazy tail.
Ning Qinghan walked into the courtyard and saw Bai Qingxue sitting under the old plum tree, drinking tea. She paused for a moment.
Then she walked over to Bai Qingxue and sat on the stone stool to Bai Qingxue's right.
That stone stool was usually empty. There were three stone stools by the stone table: one for Bai Qingxue, one opposite her, and one beside her.
The one beside her was placed over a raised root of the old plum tree, making it slightly unstable, prone to a gentle wobble when sat upon.
Lu Xueqing always sat on the one opposite.
Ning Qinghan sat on the one beside her.
Her knees were less than a fist's distance from Bai Qingxue's, her deep green gown almost brushing against the moon-white hem.
As she sat down, the stone stool indeed wobbled. She reached out to steady herself, her fingers inadvertently brushing the rim of Bai Qingxue's teacup.
Bai Qingxue paused her tea-drinking, then spoke:
“Sit opposite.”
“It’s cooler here.”
Ning Qinghan replied quickly, her tone light and casual.
She looked up, pointing to a branch of the old plum tree extending overhead.
That branch stretched diagonally, shading a large area above the nearby stone stool, casting a deep, cool shadow.
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue did not insist further.
The two sat side by side like that.
The leaves of the old plum tree rustled above their heads, and sunlight, filtered through the branches, fell upon them in fragmented specks, like flowing, shattered gold draped over their bodies.
Ning Qinghan propped her arms on the stone table, resting her chin in her hands, and turned her head to look at Bai Qingxue.
Bai Qingxue's profile was exceptionally clear in the afternoon light.
Her jawline was soft yet sharp, her nose bridge straight, and her eyelashes, silver-white, cast a small, fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes when lowered.
The bite mark from last night on her lips had scabbed over, a faint red, like a small petal resting on her mouth.
Suddenly, a breeze came.
The breeze wound in from beyond the courtyard wall, carrying the sweet fragrance of ripe spirit fruits from the spirit garden. It rustled through the branches of the old plum tree, and stirred the wisps of hair that fell beside Bai Qingxue's face.
The silver-white strands lifted, and one wisp blew forward, falling over her eyes.
Bai Qingxue was about to reach up and gather it.
Ning Qinghan moved first.
She extended her hand, gently pinching that wisp of silver hair between her index and middle fingers, her movements extremely light and slow, as if touching something precious.
Her fingertip brushed past Bai Qingxue's face, creating a barely perceptible stir of air, then she tucked the silver wisp behind Bai Qingxue's ear, her fingertip tracing a short path along the edge of her auricle.
Bai Qingxue's ear was very cold.
The Ice Spirit spiritual power, circulating in her meridians year-round, kept her body temperature much lower than an ordinary person's.
Ning Qinghan's fingertip felt that coolness, like touching a piece of warm jade, smooth and slightly cold, strikingly distinct in the warm afternoon.
Bai Qingxue tilted her head slightly, subtly resisting Ning Qinghan's presence.
Ning Qinghan did not immediately withdraw her hand.
Her fingertip lingered behind Bai Qingxue's ear for a breath, on a small patch of extremely delicate skin, hidden between the auricle and hairline, rarely exposed to sunlight.
Ning Qinghan's fingertip paused there for a moment, then slowly, unhurriedly, she withdrew her hand.
Just then, the courtyard door was pushed open.
The wooden door let out a low creak as it opened.
It was Lu Xueqing standing at the entrance.
She held a plate of spirit fruits in her hand.
They had just been picked from the spirit garden, dew still clinging to their purplish-green skins, glistening in the afternoon sun like pearls freshly retrieved from water.
These were among the best spirit fruits from the spirit garden, and she had specifically chosen the roundest, plumpest ones to bring to Bai Qingxue for a fresh taste.
However, Lu Xueqing's gaze was not on the spirit fruits at the moment.
Her eyes were fixed directly on Ning Qinghan's hand.
That hand was just withdrawing from Bai Qingxue's ear.
Her movements were not fast, even leisurely, as if it were a natural gesture after completing an ordinary task.
Lu Xueqing's expression chilled for an instant.
That instant was so brief that anyone blinking would have missed it.
But the warmth in her eyes had indeed dropped, as if a thin layer of ice spread across the surface of her pupils, freezing her once warm and bright gaze into a dull, deep brown.
Her fingers paused on the edge of the plate for a moment, then she walked in.
Lu Xueqing's steps remained steady.
Only as she crossed the threshold, her toe nudged a small pebble, which rolled with a clatter and struck the root of the old plum tree, emitting a dull thud.
“Junior Sister Bai.”
Lu Xueqing called out.
Bai Qingxue turned her head.
“Senior Sister.”
Bai Qingxue replied, her voice as clear and calm as usual.
Lu Xueqing walked to the stone table and placed the plate of spirit fruits on it.
The plate clinked against the stone surface, a crisp sound, a little heavier than usual.
“Freshly picked. Have a taste.”
Lu Xueqing said this to Bai Qingxue.
She did not look at Ning Qinghan.
Ning Qinghan did not look at her either.
Ning Qinghan sat on the stone stool, her arms propped on the edge of the stone table, her posture casual and relaxed, like the most at ease person in the courtyard.
There was no teacup in front of her, as Bai Qingxue had only poured one for herself.
But she didn't mind, simply sitting there, her gaze on the spirit fruits, seemingly quite interested in the purplish-green fruits.
Lu Xueqing did not sit down.
She stood beside the stone table, next to Bai Qingxue, looking down at her.
Then she extended her hand.
“Junior Sister, your hair is messy,” Lu Xueqing said, leaning closer to Bai Qingxue.
Bai Qingxue looked up slightly.
Her chin lifted at a very small angle, just enough for her gaze to meet Lu Xueqing's.
Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, then Bai Qingxue lowered her eyelashes, sitting quietly without moving.
And Lu Xueqing's fingers had already reached the side of Bai Qingxue's ear.
The place she touched was, of course, where Ning Qinghan had tucked the hair. Lu Xueqing chose to start there, as if smoothing out every crease on a piece of silk that someone else had touched, using her own hand to re-flatten it.
Lu Xueqing's fingers still carried the cool dampness of the soil from the spirit garden and the fresh scent of plants.
The scent was clean, with the earthy sweetness unique to soil and the aroma of crushed green grass, blending together to form Lu Xueqing's unique scent.
She gently lifted a small lock of silver hair behind Bai Qingxue's ear with her finger pad, her touch extremely light, as if lifting a handful of water, afraid it might slip through her fingers.
Then she slowly combed it back, following the direction of the strands.
Lu Xueqing's fingers threaded through that small lock of silver hair, from root to tip, in a slow and fluid motion, like a comb, yet gentler than a comb, because Lu Xueqing's fingertips could feel the texture of each individual strand.
Those fine, soft strands slid between her fingers, carrying Bai Qingxue's unique cool temperature, like countless silver threads gently caressing her palm.
Lu Xueqing gathered Bai Qingxue's hair strand by strand, from the side of her ear to the back of her head, from her temples to her crown.
Lu Xueqing was so focused while doing this that she forgot there was another person sitting beside her.
It was as if her world contained only the silver-white strands between her fingers and Bai Qingxue sitting quietly, allowing her to comb it.
After completing all this, Lu Xueqing withdrew her hand.
However, as Lu Xueqing withdrew her hand, her fingertip inexplicably paused for an instant on Bai Qingxue's shoulder.
This pause was just a light touch, like an accidental brush, or perhaps a confirmation of something.
Bai Qingxue said nothing.
She sat there, letting Lu Xueqing finish tidying her hair, not moving at all.
Bai Qingxue's expression remained calm, but unlike her subtle resistance to Ning Qinghan's touch, Bai Qingxue did not refuse Lu Xueqing's tidying this time.
Only after Lu Xueqing withdrew her hand did she pick up her teacup and take another sip. The tea had already grown cold, tasting slightly astringent.
Ning Qinghan sat beside them.
Lu Xueqing's gaze shifted from Bai Qingxue's face to Ning Qinghan.
Lu Xueqing looked at Ning Qinghan.
For a moment.
In that moment, the leaves of the old plum tree rustled several times, a drop of dew slid off a spirit fruit and landed on the stone table, spreading a small, dark water stain.
Ning Qinghan met her gaze.
Without flinching, without lowering her head, and without saying anything.
She simply held her teacup, the same curve on her lips, quietly and calmly meeting Lu Xueqing's gaze. Her eyes in the afternoon light were a deep blue, like deep sea water, with nothing discernible beneath.
In the end, it was Lu Xueqing who looked away first.
She turned to Bai Qingxue and said, “I’m leaving. The spirit fruits are here, remember to eat them.”
Bai Qingxue nodded.
Lu Xueqing left.
As she walked out of the courtyard door, she paused at the threshold and looked back.
But that glance wasn't for Bai Qingxue, it was for Ning Qinghan.
It was just a glance, then Lu Xueqing stepped over the threshold and disappeared down the path outside the courtyard door.
The courtyard door remained open, swaying slightly in the wind, its hinges emitting a faint creaking sound.
Silence descended upon the courtyard.
This silence was different from before. The previous silence was the lazy quiet of the afternoon; the current silence had an added layer of something else.
Ning Qinghan put down her teacup.
The porcelain cup clinked crisply against the bluestone tabletop. The sound echoed in the silence, then shattered into dust.
She didn't speak immediately.
The coolness of the stone table permeated through the bottom of the cup to her fingertips; the tea was completely cold.
Then she tilted her head and looked at Bai Qingxue.
“Did she often tidy your hair before?”
Ning Qinghan asked with a hint of casualness.
Bai Qingxue did not turn her head.
Her gaze was still fixed in the direction of the courtyard door, watching the wooden door swaying gently in the wind, then she said indifferently:
“Occasionally.”
Ning Qinghan tilted her head.
Ning Qinghan’s tilted head resembled a cat that had spotted something.
Her pupils contracted slightly, her ears turned towards the target, all her attention focused on one point. Yet, she was not in a hurry to approach, seemingly with an added playful curiosity.
The corners of Ning Qinghan's lips curved upward.
“Occasionally.”
Ning Qinghan repeated Bai Qingxue's words.
Her voice was very soft, as if she were talking to herself, or pondering something.
Ning Qinghan picked up her teacup and took another sip.
The tea was completely cold, so cold that a thin layer of mist had condensed on the cup's surface.
It tasted slightly bitter, not an aggressive bitterness, but one that settled at the back of the tongue and slowly seeped upwards.
But Ning Qinghan drank it down slowly, as if she couldn't taste the bitterness, her throat moving slightly, then she placed the cup back on the stone table.
The bottom of the cup clinked against the stone surface again, a soft sound.
She looked at Bai Qingxue's profile.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, falling on Bai Qingxue's face, the light flecks trembling slightly at the corners of her eyes.
“You should know that your Senior Sister…”
Ning Qinghan said.
She paused. “…likes you, right?”
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue fell silent.
But sometimes, silence is also an answer.
“No need to lie to me.”
Ning Qinghan's voice grew even softer, almost a whisper.
She reached out, her fingertip gently touching the back of Bai Qingxue's hand.
“After all, I can feel your heart, can’t I?”
Ning Qinghan said.
At this moment, Ning Qinghan’s fingertip still rested there, feeling the pulse of the blood vessels beneath Bai Qingxue's hand.
At the same time, Ning Qinghan could feel something quietly stirring within Bai Qingxue's previously empty heart.
But Ning Qinghan didn't point it out.
She merely withdrew her finger, slowly pulling it back into her sleeve, the coolness of her fingertip lingering on the back of Bai Qingxue's hand.
Wind swept in from outside the courtyard door, rustling the bamboo leaves, stirring the wisps of Ning Qinghan's hair at her temples, and disturbing a lone tea leaf in the completely cold tea on the stone table.
Bai Qingxue still did not turn her head.
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