When Bai Qingxue returned to the courtyard, dusk had already begun to settle.
Someone was sitting under the old plum tree.
It was Lu Xueqing.
Lu Xueqing hadn't gone to the ceremony.
She wore her usual frost-white casual attire, her hair loosely pinned with a wooden hairpin. A teapot and two cups sat on the stone table.
Thin wisps of steam rose from the teapot’s spout, curling away into the twilight.
Hearing the courtyard gate, Lu Xueqing looked up.
Her gaze landed on Bai Qingxue’s face first, then slid down to the new sword at her waist. It paused for a moment before she looked away.
“You’re back?”
Bai Qingxue nodded and sat down across from her.
Lu Xueqing poured a cup of tea and pushed it over. Bai Qingxue took it, her fingers hesitating slightly as they touched the rim.
She raised the cup and took a sip.
The tea was warm.
“Were there many people at the ceremony?” Lu Xueqing asked.
“Many.”
“Are you tired?”
Bai Qingxue thought for a moment. “No.”
A long silence followed between the two.
The silver-white new buds of the old plum tree swayed gently in the wind.
“I suppose I should call you Martial Aunt Bai now,” Lu Xueqing said, breaking the deadlock with a playful tone, a slight curve appearing at the corner of her mouth.
But the smile didn't reach her eyes.
Lu Xueqing looked down at the tea in her cup; her reflection in the liquid was blurry and indistinct.
Bai Qingxue looked at Lu Xueqing and said calmly, “No need.”
Lu Xueqing’s hand holding the teacup paused slightly.
“Alright,” she replied softly.
Silence returned.
Bai Qingxue took another sip of tea. Suddenly, it tasted so bitter it was hard to swallow, so she set the cup down.
Bai Qingxue felt strange at this moment.
Since reaching Foundation Establishment, many things felt distant. People, events, sounds, temperatures—it was as if everything in the world was separated from her by a layer. She felt like she was standing at the bottom of a dry well; she could see the sky when she looked up, but the sky was far away, appearing unreal.
Yet sitting here, across from Lu Xueqing, Bai Qingxue felt that the well wasn't quite as deep.
It wasn't a feeling of warmth or being moved, but something lighter. Like a very thin thread stretching from Lu Xueqing and tying itself to her. It was something she had never noticed before, but now, because the other end of the thread had moved, she could feel it.
Bai Qingxue didn't know why she felt this way.
Perhaps she was just used to it.
Used to the courtyard gate opening at this time every day, used to a pot of warm tea on the stone table, used to someone sitting across from her.
Habit wasn't emotion, but it was more resilient. Emotions could be worn away by cultivation techniques, but habits could not.
Habits were things the body remembered; they wouldn't simply fade away along with emotions.
Thinking this, Bai Qingxue recalled the things Lu Xueqing had done for her in the past.
Whether it was giving her medicine, the hugs, or even that red mark.
If those things remained in the depths of her heart, what would they become?
Bai Qingxue didn't know. She just suddenly felt that if Lu Xueqing could always sit here, always brew tea, and always call her "Junior Sister," perhaps the stream beneath the layer of ice wouldn't dry up, and her heart wouldn't feel so empty.
The thought was fleeting.
It sank away almost as soon as she realized it existed.
Bai Qingxue didn't have time to catch it or see it clearly.
Her gaze simply moved from the teacup to Lu Xueqing’s lowered eyelashes.
Lu Xueqing’s eyelashes were long, casting a faint shadow over her eyes. Bai Qingxue watched that shadow, lost in thought.
...
Lu Xueqing was silent for a while. She put down her cup and looked up at Bai Qingxue.
The gaze that had been avoiding Bai Qingxue all evening finally landed.
But looking into Bai Qingxue’s eyes, Lu Xueqing didn't feel the steadiness she had expected.
Those eyes were even lighter than before, like a winter lake covered in a layer of new ice. There was something beneath it that she couldn't see through anymore.
Before, when she looked at Bai Qingxue, she could see some kind of response in those eyes. But now, it was gone.
Her junior sister’s eyes were like an empty mirror, reflecting no one.
Lu Xueqing felt a sudden prickle of fear.
Not because Bai Qingxue wasn't looking at her, but because when she did, there was no difference between looking at her and looking at the stone table, the teacup, or the old plum tree.
In Bai Qingxue’s eyes, was she the same as those objects?
The answer to that question frightened Lu Xueqing.
“I’m almost at the ninth level of Qi Refining,” Lu Xueqing said with some effort.
She didn't know why she said it, but if she had to guess, she probably just wanted to hear her junior sister’s response.
“Mm,” Bai Qingxue said softly.
A single word.
It was the same as before, yet it felt emptier.
Before, when her junior sister said “Mm,” she was at least listening.
Now, it felt as if the sound came from a great distance. Though she sat right across from her, the voice felt separated by something.
Was her junior sister distancing herself? Or was she just imagining it?
“But I’m still a long way from Foundation Establishment,” Lu Xueqing added.
She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.
She wasn't talking about her cultivation level at all; it sounded more like she was saying she could no longer keep up with her junior sister.
She was afraid Bai Qingxue would realize it, and afraid she wouldn't.
If she did, how would she look at her? Would she find her pitiable? If she didn't, then the sentence was just nonsense that made the silence between them even heavier.
Bai Qingxue didn't speak.
Lu Xueqing looked down at her tea.
It had gone cold, and a thin layer of condensation had formed on the side of the cup.
Her finger rested on the rim, but she didn't rub it.
She didn't want Bai Qingxue to see her fidgeting with the cup again.
But she didn't know where to put her hand. If she left it on the table, it was too close to Bai Qingxue’s hand; she would be tempted to reach out. If she pulled it into her sleeve, it felt like she was hiding.
So she just left it there, motionless, as if the hand didn't belong to her.
“Call me Senior Sister...” Lu Xueqing heard herself say. Her voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.
Her throat tightened as she spoke those words, as if she had swallowed a mouthful of lukewarm tea that had gotten stuck. She didn't know why she said it. Was she trying to remind Bai Qingxue of their past? Or was she trying to remind herself?
She didn't know. She only knew those words had been blocked in her heart for a long time—ever since the news of the ceremony broke.
She waited for a moment. It was short, but it felt long enough to hear her own heartbeat. One, two, three. She was afraid Bai Qingxue wouldn't speak, and afraid she would.
“Senior Sister Lu...” Bai Qingxue said softly.
Lu Xueqing looked up, but Bai Qingxue wasn't looking at her. Her gaze was fixed entirely on the tea, though the cold liquid reflected nothing.
Then, Lu Xueqing looked down and finished the rest of the cold tea.
It was so bitter.
“I’m going back,” she said, standing up.
Bai Qingxue simply nodded.
Lu Xueqing walked out into the twilight.
The wooden hairpin had slipped at some point, letting a few strands of hair fall beside her ear, which made her feel irritable.
The stone steps back were long.
She walked down one step at a time, the dusk surging from behind and swallowing her shadow.
She suddenly thought that tomorrow, she should probably brew the tea a bit weaker.
Today’s pot had steeped for too long; it was too bitter.
Even though her junior sister hadn't said anything, she knew. Her junior sister didn't like bitter things.
Lu Xueqing had always remembered that.
Even if Bai Qingxue herself might have forgotten, she remembered.
Between her and her junior sister, at least one thing had to be remembered.
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