Jianghu Demolition Squad

Between Buddha and Demon (Part Ten)

Yu’er held Qing Jiu close, her voice filled with tenderness, “Even if it’s just for one day, let me stay with you, just for one day, let me be with you.”

She knelt before Qing Jiu, gently cupping her face, their foreheads touching. “I know you’re worried I’ll do something foolish after you’re gone,” Yu’er said, her voice soft but firm. “I promise I won’t. If you’re not here, I’ll cherish your memory every day, and I’ll live my life to the fullest.”

“Qing Jiu, I’m asking you one last time,” Yu’er continued, her gaze unwavering. “Do you still stand by your promise from all those years ago? Will you marry me?”

Qing Jiu closed her eyes, her voice a mere whisper. “Your life is so long…”

Yu’er’s hand drifted to the back of Qing Jiu’s head, gently stroking her earlobe and caressing her neck.

Yu’er, in a husky voice, said, “Don’t speak.”

Before Qing Jiu could understand her meaning, a shadow fell over her as Yu’er leaned in, her lips pressing against Qing Jiu’s. The kiss was light and warm, a delicate fragrance enveloping her senses. Qing Jiu instinctively pulled back, but Yu’er’s hand on her neck gently restrained her.

Their lips met again, a soft and yielding touch, like brushing against a cloud.

Yu’er nibbled gently, her tongue teasing the seam of Qing Jiu’s lips.

Her fingers pressed against the Fengchi acupoint at the base of Qing Jiu’s skull. A jolt of electricity shot through Qing Jiu’s body, a tingling sensation spreading down her spine.

It was a normal reaction to acupressure. Yu’er had learned the technique from Mo Wen and was putting her knowledge to good use.

A soft moan escaped Qing Jiu’s lips. Yu’er seized the opportunity, her tongue slipping past Qing Jiu’s lips, exploring her mouth with playful curiosity, capturing Qing Jiu’s tongue and sucking gently.

The sensation sent shivers down Qing Jiu’s spine, a delicious ache spreading through her core. No one could resist such a tender assault from the one they loved.

Yu’er pushed Qing Jiu back onto the bed, straddling her hips, her eyes blazing with desire, her cheeks flushed. She was just as affected as Qing Jiu.

With graceful movements, she removed her sash and loosened her robes, her actions a silent seduction.

“Yu’er!” Qing Jiu exclaimed, propping herself up on her elbows.

Yu’er pushed her back down, her robes falling open further with the movement. “I don’t want to hear you speak.”

She took Qing Jiu’s hand and placed it over her heart, her eyes shimmering with a galaxy of emotions. “I’ll know what your heart desires,” she whispered.

Qing Jiu’s breathing grew erratic, her ears burning, her heart racing as if it were being roasted over an open fire.

She thought back to the day she rescued Yu’er. Such a frail and vulnerable girl, alone and clinging to life. She had seen herself in Yu’er, a reflection of her own past suffering, prompting a moment of compassion that led to her rescue.

Yu’er was like her, sharing the same pain, the same burning hatred. Yet she was also different. Qing Jiu had stained herself with blood, her path a dark and violent one. But Yu’er, despite the horrors she had endured, remained pure and resilient, a beacon of light in the darkness.

She remembered the encounter with the white tiger at the bottom of the cliff. Yu’er had insisted on letting it go, arguing that it hadn’t committed any wrongdoing, that they shouldn’t condemn it for actions it hadn’t taken.

Qing Jiu had heard those words before, from Venerable Kuyuan, long ago. Back then, she had been the ‘white tiger,’ standing before Yiye and Kuyuan, awaiting judgment.

Their compassion, their willingness to forgive and even nurture her, stemmed from their saintly nature.

Yu’er was just an ordinary person. But because she was ordinary, her words resonated even more deeply within Qing Jiu’s soul. It was as if Yu’er’s simple statement had absolved her, offering her a kind of redemption.

That’s why Yu’er was different in her eyes. Qing Jiu was determined to protect this pure light, to ensure Yu’er could blossom without being tainted by the ugliness of the world.

Qing Jiu had initially envisioned Yu’er as a second chance for herself, a way to fulfill the dreams and aspirations she had been forced to abandon.

She had watched Yu’er grow, witnessed her kindness and strength, and that initial determination to protect her had slowly fermented, transforming into something else entirely. She wanted Yu’er all to herself, to fill the emptiness within her own life.

In this world of joy and sorrow, parting and reunion, fate seems to forever overlook her. Sadness and separation occupied most of her life, leaving her to wander alone.

She desired Yu’er, had always desired her. She had suppressed those desires, burying them beneath the weight of her vengeance and the difference in their ages. Now, she tried to use her impending death as a justification for denying those feelings.

But the rationale was flimsy, easily overpowered by the intensity of her desire. Yu’er’s reckless and passionate advances shattered the last vestiges of Qing Jiu’s restraint, unleashing a flood of longing.

The room flickered with candlelight, filled with the fragrance of spring and the soft whispers of love.

The night was deep, and outside, a crimson hibiscus blossom, bathed in moonlight, swayed gently in the night breeze before falling to the ground. Inside, the room was warm and fragrant, the night dew clinging to the windowpanes like honey, sweet and sticky.

As dawn approached, the group stumbled back from the flower field, nursing their hangovers. Mo Wen grumbled about being excluded from their drinking session, dragging a still-drunk Yan Li back to her room. The rest had passed out among the flowers, spending the night under the open sky.

As soon as Jun Sixue returned to her room and noticed that Yu’er’s room was open and empty, she went to Mo Wen’s room and asked, “Where’s Yu’er? Why isn’t she in her room at this hour?”

Mo Wen casually replied, “She’s sleeping in Qing Jiu’s room.”

Jun Sixue, still groggy from last night’s drinking, repeated the words, “Oh, Yu’er is sleeping in Qing Jiu’s room.”

After a pause, she suddenly widened her eyes and exclaimed loudly “What?! Yu’er is sleeping in her room?!”

Mo Wen, startled by her shout, accidentally broke the medicine jar in her hand: “You, keep your voice down.”

Jun Sixue, her eyes blazing with anger, her face flushed crimson, stormed towards Qing Jiu’s room. “I’ll deal with her myself!”

Mo Wen hurried after her. Hua Lian and the others, alerted by Jun Sixue’s outburst, emerged from their rooms, curious about the commotion. Seeing Jun Sixue heading towards Qing Jiu’s room, they instantly understood.

Hua Lian rushed to intercept Jun Sixue, coughing twice and said, “Second Miss Jun, they are still sleeping. What would it look like for you to go there now!”

Jun Sixue, her face and even her ears flushing red, retorted, “Are you all conspiring against my younger sister?”

Hua Lian frowned, “What are you talking about?”

Jun Sixue accused, “You got us all drunk, and you let Qing Jiu drink too, so she could take advantage of her… her intoxicated state!”

Hua Lian chuckled. “Even if that were the case, wouldn’t it make more sense to get Yu’er drunk? Besides,” he added, “the plan was to get Qing Jiu to open up about her feelings. This outcome is even better… Ahem, perhaps it’s a bit unconventional, but think about it, if Yu’er hadn’t consented, Qing Jiu wouldn’t have… you know…”

Jun Sixue grew even angrier, barking back, “What do you mean by that?”

Yang Chun stepped in, attempting to defuse the situation. “Second Miss, please calm down, calm down,” he pleaded. “They slept in the same room. That means they’ve reconciled. It’s not a bad thing, overall.”

Jun Sixue scoffed, “What if Qing Jiu wakes up and denies everything?”

Tang Lin impatiently said, “We’ll deal with that when they wake up!”

Out of arguments, Jun Sixue watched as Qi Tianzhu persuaded everyone to disperse and rest. Although the group moved inside, their eyes couldn’t help but dart curiously towards Qing Jiu’s room.

After taking a few steps, Jun Sixue paused, her worry overriding her anger. She summoned Jun Jimo and Jun Suyue, instructing them to stand guard outside Qing Jiu’s door.

As dawn fully broke, and the effects of their hangovers overcame them, everyone drifted back to sleep except for Jun Jimo and Jun Suyue, who had taken hangover soup and stood alert outside Qing Jiu’s room.

The door opened from inside, and Qing Jiu, wearing an outer robe with her long hair flowing down to her waist, stepped out.

Jun Jimo and Jun Suyue moved to block her path, one on each side, asking, “Miss Qing Jiu, you’re awake. Where are you planning to go?”

Qing Jiu said, “I’m going for a walk.”

She passed by them and walked out of the courtyard. They followed and offered, “We’ll accompany you, Miss.”

Qing Jiu stopped, turned slightly, and said, “Let me be alone for a while. I won’t run away.”

Jun Jimo and Jun Suyue were initially about to speak but, seeing Qing Jiu’s serious expression, they nodded silently and let her go on her own.

Qing Jiu continued forward, passing the flower fields and rounding the pavilion until she reached a forest. Beyond the forest, lay a tranquil spring.

The spring was cool and clear, framed by vibrant greenery. Qing Jiu sat on a rock by by the pond. It was very quiet here, the sound of birdsong only highlighting the solitude. She knew she was alone.

“Father, Mother, Aunt,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I have a family now.”

She covered her face with her hands, tears leaking between her fingers: “But I can only be with her for such a short time.”

“I don’t want to leave her.”

Her sobs were muffled, swallowed by the vastness of her sorrow. A bluebird landed on the rock beside her, tilting its head to look at her with curious eyes before pecking at the ground, oblivious to her grief.

When Qing Jiu returned to the courtyard, Yu’er was frantically searching for her. Seeing her return, Yu’er rushed forward, throwing her arms around Qing Jiu. “Where did you go?”

“I just went for a walk,” Qing Jiu replied, noticing Yu’er was barefoot and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Yu’er cupped Qing Jiu’s face, kissing her gently on the bridge of her nose. “I woke up and you were gone,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I was dreaming again. It all felt like a dream.”

Yu’er hadn’t yet shaken off the lingering uncertainty, the fear that this newfound happiness was just an illusion. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her body trembling as she clung to Qing Jiu.

Jun Sixue shot Qing Jiu a reproachful look but restrained herself from reacting because of Yu’er’s presence. She had woken up early to the commotion and had helped look for Qing Jiu.

Qing Jiu led Yu’er back to her room, gently guiding her with an arm around her waist. She wiped Yu’er’s feet and helped her put on her shoes, then fetched a fresh set of clothes. Yesterday’s garments were beyond saving.

Once dressed, Yu’er clung to Qing Jiu, still visibly shaken, and asked, “Where did you go just now?”

“I had a bit too much to drink last night,” Qing Jiu replied, gently stroking Yu’er’s hair. “I woke up with a headache, so I went for a walk to clear my head.” She helped Yu’er up. “Come, sit here. I’ll brush your hair for you.”

Yu’er sat down before the dressing table. Qing Jiu picked up a wooden comb and began brushing Yu’er’s long, silky hair. As she drew the comb through Yu’er’s hair, Yu’er, watching in the mirror, recited a traditional verse, following Qing Jiu’s rhythm: “First brush to the ends, second brush till white hair reaches the brows, third brush for a house full of children and grandchildren.”

Qing Jiu felt a pang in her heart but smiled, “Where would we get a house full of children and grandchildren?”

Yu’er didn’t take it seriously and replied, “It’s just an auspicious saying.”

After Qing Jiu finished combing her hair, she took out a wooden hairpin and placed it in Yu’er’s hair. Yu’er touched it and Qing Jiu cautioned, “Don’t move, you’ll mess it up.”

Yu’er remarked, “It looks familiar.”

“Is it?” Qing Jiu replied, knowing this was the hairpin Yu’er had admired in the Wujin City, but she chose not to point it out.

Suddenly, Yu’er remembered something and picked up a box from the dressing table, lifted the lid, and presented it to Qing Jiu, saying, “Look.”

Inside the box lay a piece of camphor branch. Qing Jiu remarked, “This is a camphor branch…” She recognized it from the many she had seen before, and a thought flashed through her mind about the piece Yu’er had picked at Lin’s estate.

Yu’er held the box, her eyes fixed on Qing Jiu’s. “I took it from your family’s courtyard,” she said. “I bought the deed to the property. When we go back, let’s renovate and rebuild the house. Hua Lian said the flowers and herbs here in the Xuhuai Valley are exceptional. Let’s bring some back and plant them in the garden. Once they’ve grown, we can use them for Mo Wen’s medicines. There aren’t many of us. I don’t know if Yan Li and the others want to live with us, but if they do, we won’t need many rooms. We can turn the extra space into a meditation hall for Yan Li, a forge for Linzhi…”

Qing Jiu remained silent, reaching out to gently caress Yu’er’s cheek. Yu’er captured her hand, pressing it against her own, whispering tenderly, “Qing Jiu, may you live a long and healthy life.”

Translation note:
“First brush to the ends, second brush till white hair reaches the brows, third brush for a house full of children and grandchildren.” – an old Chinese wedding custom known as the “hair combing ceremony.” The bride’s hair is usually combed by an older woman, usually a relative, while the woman recites auspicious sayings.