Snow Plum

Almost every day after Bai Qingxue fell into a coma, Ye Qingyao came.

And every day Ye Qingyao came, she would just stand by the stone bed, watching Bai Qingxue, and then leave in the evening.

Lu Xueqing saw all of this, but she said nothing.

She put away the stool Ye Qingyao had sat on, poured out the cold medicine, warmed a fresh bowl, and placed it back by the bed.

Bai Qingxue remained unconscious, and the medicine would cool, bowl after bowl.

Lu Xueqing didn't know why she kept warming bowl after bowl; perhaps she just wanted to do something, anything, to keep herself from simply sitting and waiting.

Each time Ye Qingyao came, she would look at the green cord tied around Bai Qingxue’s wrist. Lu Xueqing noticed that when Ye Qingyao looked at the cord, her lips would subtly press together, as if she were holding something back.

On the fifth day, Ye Qingyao did not come.

Lu Xueqing didn't know why she hadn't come. Perhaps something had happened on Qingyun Peak, or perhaps she had finally decided she shouldn't come anymore.

Lu Xueqing didn't know, nor did she want to ask.

She picked up the medicine bowl, then set it down again.

Outside the window, the sun shone brightly. The old plum tree's buds had grown larger, a few of them cracked open, revealing tender green tips.

Another new spring was almost here.

But Bai Qingxue still hadn't woken. Lu Xueqing sat by the bed, looking at Bai Qingxue’s hand.

That hand hung by the bed, its knuckles no longer frosted, yet still cold, like jade left out in winter.

The green cord was tied around her wrist, so thin it was almost invisible.

Lu Xueqing stared at the cord for a long time.

She knew why Ye Qingyao had tied the cord.

Regarding Ye Qingyao's feelings, Lu Xueqing knew; she knew everything.

So, at this moment, she felt a bit unsure where to place her own hands.

But after a moment, she still reached out and touched the green cord.

Her fingertip brushed against the cord, feeling somewhat coarse, unlike the smooth jade surface of the Jade Radiance Pendant.

Lu Xueqing's finger lingered there; she did not untie it.

She couldn't untie it.

It was left by Ye Qingyao; she had no right to untie it.

She just silently wondered in her heart: Why wasn't it her who tied the cord? If it were her, what would she tie around Bai Qingxue’s wrist? She didn't know. Perhaps nothing, or perhaps she would tie herself to it, who could say...

Lu Xueqing slowly withdrew her hand, resting it on her lap, and lowered her eyes.

She recalled Bai Qingxue standing in front of her that day in the Luoyun Mountain Range. The Frost Condensation Sword was held horizontally before them, white frost clinging to its blade.

At that time, Lu Xueqing stood behind her, yet Lu Xueqing should have been the one in front.

She was the senior sister, having joined the sect earlier, and should have protected her junior sister, but she couldn't do anything.

Lu Xueqing lowered her head, looking at her hands.

There was a scar on her palm from when she had pruned flower branches; it had healed, leaving only a faint mark.

She turned her hand over, looking at the back of it.

There were a few blue veins on the back of her hand, and her skin was so fair that her blood vessels were visible.

These hands had held Bai Qingxue, on the day of the finals.

When Bai Qingxue stepped off the stage, she had rushed forward and embraced her.

That was the boldest thing she had ever done in her life. She thought it was a beginning, but now, it seemed it might have been the peak.

Since then, she had never been able to get closer to Bai Qingxue.

Bai Qingxue had given her a jade pendant, which she thought signified

something different,

but Ye Qingyao had tied a cord.

That cord was lighter and less valuable than the jade pendant, but it was tied to Bai Qingxue and couldn't be removed.

Ye Qingyao wasn't here, but her item was.

Lu Xueqing looked at that cord every day, and the more she looked, the more it stung her eyes.

She didn't hate Ye Qingyao; she hated herself.

Why could she only sit by and wait? Wait for Bai Qingxue to wake, wait for Bai Qingxue to look at her, wait for Bai Qingxue to need her.

She didn't want to wait, but waiting was all she knew how to do.

Lu Xueqing picked up Bai Qingxue's hand, which hung by the bed, and cradled it in her palms.

That hand was ice-cold, with long, distinct fingers.

She pressed that hand against her own face, and a chill spread from her palm.

Lu Xueqing remembered Bai Qingxue’s back as she shielded her that day, and the sound of her voice saying, “I won’t retreat.”

She should have been grateful, should have felt warmth, should have cultivated even harder to stand in front of Bai Qingxue next time.

But she hadn't.

She only felt cold.

It wasn't the cold from Bai Qingxue's body; it was her own, an inexplicable cold rising from the depths of her heart, making her feel utterly despicable.

She should have been happy that Junior Sister Bai was like this because she was protecting her, and that when Junior Sister Bai woke up, she would still drink her tea, still call her “Senior Sister,” and still let her sit under the old plum tree.

But Lu Xueqing wasn't happy.

Because Lu Xueqing was a greedy person.

She wanted more than just these things.

She wanted Junior Sister Bai to drink only her tea, to let only her sit by her side, to nod only to her.

She wanted Junior Sister Bai’s gaze towards Ye Qingyao to be the same as towards her. No, she wanted Bai Qingxue’s gaze towards her to be more significant than towards Ye Qingyao.

She knew she shouldn't think this way.

She was the senior sister; she should be magnanimous, should offer blessings, should smile and say, “Junior Sister Ye is so good to you.” But she couldn't smile.

Lu Xueqing opened her eyes and looked at Bai Qingxue’s face.

Bai Qingxue’s eyes were closed, her eyelashes unmoving, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible.

Lu Xueqing gazed at that face for a long time.

She tilted her head, looking at the green cord on Bai Qingxue’s wrist. The knot was very small, tied very lightly.

She watched for a few breaths, then reached out and gently lifted Bai Qingxue’s sleeve.

Beneath the lifted sleeve, an incredibly fair forearm was revealed, like an uncarved piece of jade.

There were extremely fine blue veins on the skin, like patterns on the jade surface.

Lu Xueqing looked at that forearm for a long time, until the sun outside the window moved from east to west.

Then she lowered her head and pressed her lips against that forearm, gently, as if afraid of waking something.

Her lips touched the icy skin, and a chill spread from her lips. Lu Xueqing didn't move away; she stayed there for a long time.

Then she lifted her head, looking at the small red mark left on that patch of skin.

At this moment, the red mark stood out on the fair skin, like a crimson plum petal fallen on snow, its edges blurred, but its center profoundly deep.

Lu Xueqing stared at that red mark, a trace of satisfaction welling up in her heart—this was left by her, left by her on Bai Qingxue’s body.

Not Ye Qingyao, but her.

However, this satisfaction lasted only for an instant, then was drowned by the self-loathing that immediately followed.

Lu Xueqing felt despicable.

She was taking advantage of the situation, taking advantage of Junior Sister Bai’s unconsciousness to do things she would never dare to do if she were awake.

If Junior Sister Bai were awake, she wouldn't have done this. In the past, she would hesitate for a long time even before touching Junior Sister Bai’s hand; how could she dare to lift her sleeve?

But Bai Qingxue was asleep; she wouldn't refuse, wouldn't pull away.

So Lu Xueqing did it.

After doing it, the satisfaction was real, and the self-loathing was also real.

Lu Xueqing pulled Bai Qingxue’s sleeve back down, covering the red plum, as if covering it could make it as if it never happened.

But she couldn't deceive herself.

Lu Xueqing stood up, as if nothing had happened.

Only the icy touch still lingered on her lips, as if Junior Sister Bai were still there.

No, Junior Sister Bai was right here, just not awake yet.

When Junior Sister Bai woke up, nothing would change.

She, Lu Xueqing, would still be Bai Qingxue’s senior sister, and Bai Qingxue would still be Lu Xueqing’s junior sister, until the day they parted.

That mark would fade in a few days; Junior Sister Bai would never know.

But she would remember.

Remember this red mark, remember that fleeting moment of satisfaction in her heart, remember the subsequent self-loathing.

Looking at the completely cold medicine, Lu Xueqing walked out of the room, intending to warm another bowl.

The door gently closed behind her.

The quiet room fell silent, with only the rustling of the old plum tree's leaves outside the window, stirred by the wind.

Twilight seeped in through the window, falling upon Bai Qingxue’s pale face.

Bai Qingxue opened her eyes.

She hadn't just woken up; Bai Qingxue had been awake for a while.

She had woken when Lu Xueqing lifted her sleeve, when those lips pressed against her, when that small red mark appeared on her skin.

However, Bai Qingxue hadn't opened her eyes.

She didn't know why she hadn't opened her eyes. Perhaps she didn't know how to face it, or perhaps she wanted to know how far Lu Xueqing would go. Perhaps it was both.

In any case, Bai Qingxue simply kept her eyes closed, unmoving, silently allowing Lu Xueqing to do what she wished.

Thinking this, Bai Qingxue slowly raised the hand with the green cord tied to it. Her sleeve slid down, revealing the red mark on her forearm.

Although it wasn't clearly visible in the twilight, it was indeed red, like a plum blossom petal fallen on snow, its edges blurred, but its center incredibly deep.

Bai Qingxue didn't wipe it away, nor did she cover it with her sleeve.

She just looked at that red mark, and as she looked, her eyelashes fluttered.

At this moment, she couldn't understand.

She had never imagined that one day she would lie on a bed, with one person's cord tied around her wrist and another person's mark imprinted on her forearm.

And these two people, she didn't know how to face them. She didn't even know if she wanted to face them.

A moment later, Bai Qingxue lowered her hand, and her sleeve once again covered the red mark.

Bai Qingxue closed her eyes, her breathing still as shallow as before, no different from when she was unconscious.

Only her fingers, within her sleeve, gently rested beside the green cord on her wrist, neither clenched nor released.

She was waiting.

Waiting for Lu Xueqing to push open the door with the warmed medicine, waiting for her to discover that Bai Qingxue was awake, waiting for her to see that Bai Qingxue’s face showed no expression.

Just like before, nothing, and nothing would change.

Perhaps, this was the optimal solution.