Jianghu Demolition Squad

Unfamiliar with the Five Tastes of Life (Part Six)

As Qing Jiu’s sword was mere inches from the woman’s throat. She leaned aside, twirling her jade flute, deflecting the strike.

This allowed Qing Jiu to see her profile. Her features were strikingly handsome and oddly familiar.

Qing Jiu’s sword play was fluid, gliding along the flute, aiming for the woman’s wrist.

The woman, stunned by this sudden attack, stared at Qing Jiu, momentarily forgetting to defend herself.

The three disciples of the Qixian Palace beside her reacted swiftly. One blocked Qing Jiu’s sword, while the other two launched a simultaneous attack, a powerful strike sending her crashing to the ground.

The woman, regaining her composure, immediately shouted, “Don’t hurt her!”

The three disciples had already disarmed Qing Jiu and held her pinned to the ground.

One of them sharply questioned, “Who are you? Why did you attack my senior sister?”

The woman hurried over to Qing Jiu, urgently asking, “How do you know this sword technique!”

Already injured, Qing Jiu’s exertions had caused her wounds to reopen. After being struck down, her strength waned, and dizziness overwhelmed her.

Hearing the woman’s question, Qing Jiu confirmed that she was indeed Lin Qingchao and, no longer able to muster the strength to stay conscious, she blacked out.

When she awoke again, she was no longer in the inn.

Sunlight, a warm orange glow, streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where she lay. The sound of rustling leaves in the courtyard and the faint scent of medicinal herbs filled the room, where time seemed to stand still.

As she opened her eyes, Lin Qingchao was sitting beside the bed, tears falling onto the handkerchief that had belonged to Qing Jiu’s mother.

Lin Qingchao was deeply saddened, her face etched with grief—a feeling Qing Jiu understood from her own experiences.

Lin Qingchao’s sadness was palpable, a heartbreaking display of grief that Qing Jiu understood too well. For a moment, it was as if she was back on the boat, calling out to her mother, desperately hoping that when she opened her eyes, her mother would be awake…

She softly called out, “Aunt.”

Lost in her grief, Lin Qingchao didn’t notice Qing Jiu stir until she sat up.

When Lin Qing Chao turned to look at her, there were still tears in her eyes. She reached out and caressed her face, as if afraid of shattering her, murmuring, “Your eyes… they’re just like hers…”

She seemed unable to contain her grief, turning her head as tears fell again. She wiped away the tear stains and composed herself before turning back to Qing Jiu with a smile, “Si’er, although I haven’t met you before, your father and… and your mother wrote about you often in their letters…”

Qing Jiu looked at her, studying her features.

After all these years, her father’s face had begun to blur in her memory. She could only vaguely recall his strong, dignified features, his stern expression. Her aunt, however, had a more refined appearance, a hint of elegance that was rarely seen in women.

Listening to Lin Qingchao, there seemed to be no ill will between her and her father. When she was young, he had spoken fondly of his sister. Qing Jiu wondered why she hadn’t returned to the Lin family once in all these years.

“Si’er,” Lin Qingchao continued, her voice filled with sorrow, “the treacherous scoundrels who orchestrated the Lin family’s downfall were so cunning. I refused to believe that no one had survived. I searched for years but found nothing. Heaven has shown mercy, letting you be safe and allowing us to meet.” Lin Qingchao embraced her. “You’ve suffered a lot over these years.”

Qing Jiu grasped the back of her robe, “Aunt.” Her eyes were sorrowful, yet she couldn’t cry.

Somehow, something held back the joyous wave of relief that should have flooded her.

“From now on, your aunt is here. I will protect you.”

Qing Jiu actually hadn’t made any plans for what to do after meeting Lin Qingchao.

After each mission, she was allowed to roam freely outside the Ghost Sect. She actually had the opportunity to go to Yangzhou to find Lin Qingchao.

She hadn’t gone, partly because her desire for revenge took precedence, and partly because she didn’t know how to face Lin Qingchao.

After enduring years of loneliness following her family’s tragedy, the idea of appearing before a stranger and calling her ‘Aunt’ felt awkward for both. In truth, she was daunted by the proximity to her past.

Now that she had acknowledged her, it was because the person was right in front of her. In a moment of impulse, she ultimately wanted to see her.

Although Qing Jiu hadn’t made any plans, Lin Qingchao had made plans for her.

Lin Qingchao wanted to take her back to the Qixian Palace.

Qing Jiu didn’t know what to do next and was at a loss, so she followed her aunt’s suggestion and agreed to return to the Qixian Palace with her. She also remembered that Qin Gui had originally come from the Qixian Palace, providing a good opportunity to see what her master’s former sect was like.

Seeing the severe injuries Qing Jiu had sustained, Lin Qingchao inquired about their origins and where Qing Jiu had been since escaping the disaster that befell her family.

Qing Jiu was vague in her responses, unwilling to disclose details about her time with the Ghost Sect or the specifics of how she got her injuries.

Lin Qingchao understood that it was too early for Qing Jiu to place her complete trust in her aunt. Since Qing Jiu didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t press her further.

Once Qing Jiu had healed somewhat, Lin Qingchao set out, taking her to Yangzhou.

Yangzhou was not far from Hangzhou and had a similar climate. In early summer, after a rainstorm, a thin fog would linger in the streets, making Qing Jiu feel like she was back in Hangzhou.

They arrived just in time for the birthday of the Palace Master of the Qixian Palace. The palace typically shunned lavish celebrations, but still, many came to offer their congratulations.

As the saying goes, “It’s hard to slap a smiling face.” With guests arriving with gifts and good wishes, the palace had no choice but to organize a feast.

With everyone in the palace busy preparing, Qing Jiu assumed Lin Qingchao, after settling her in, would join them. To her surprise, however, she found her aunt hiding away in her room, enjoying some peace and quiet. Over tea, they chatted, and Qing Jiu realized that unlike her father and uncle, who were masters of social graces, her aunt was more independent. Perhaps being the youngest daughter had afforded her the freedom to be more self-assured.

It wasn’t until the evening banquet that Lin Qingchao finally brought Qing Jiu to join the festivities.

Lin Qingchao sat beside her, carefully serving her food. Qing Jiu’s bowl piled high.

“Si’er, I heard from your… from your mother that you have no sense of taste, is that right?” Lin Qingchao asked gently.

Qing Jiu nodded nonchalantly, continuing to eat slowly: “Whether I have it or not, it makes no difference to me.”

Lin Qingchao set down her chopsticks, “Experiencing the five flavors is one of life’s great pleasures. It makes a huge difference.”

She felt a pang of sympathy for Qing Jiu, who had never known the joys of tasting the world. Her voice was both gentle and firm, “Your aunt will definitely find a way to restore your sense of taste.”

Qing Jiu was uninterested and only responded faintly, “Hmm.”

Before they could continue their conversation, someone approached Lin Qingchao, eager to engage in pleasantries.

As a senior elder of the Qixian Palace, Lin Qingchao was highly respected, and several people came over to make small talk and offer toasts.

Qing Jiu gazed at the shimmering golden liquid in her wine cup, lost in thought. She had vaguely remembered drinking wine before, but couldn’t recall when. The only thing she remembered was that feeling of lightheadedness it had brought.

Lin Qingchao turned her head and saw her staring at her wine cup. She laughed, “Si’er, do you want to try some?”

Before Qing Jiu could respond, Lin Qingchao had already poured her a cup and handed it to her.

Her father had imposed many rules, forbidding her from even touching such things when she was younger. But her aunt seemed to do things on her own terms, without restrictions.

Driven by curiosity, Qing Jiu took the cup and drank it all in one gulp, shivering from the sensation.

Lin Qingchao, seeing her reaction, laughed, “Little drunkard.”

Qing Jiu blinked, looking at her aunt, bewildered. It felt like someone else had said those words to her, with a smile.

She squinted and held out the wine cup to Lin Qingchao. Lin Qingchao said, “Want more?”

She nodded. Lin Qingchao filled it up and laughed, “When wine is present, let’s enjoy it. What else does life have to offer? Those who love wine are of good nature. Si’er, you are not like your father who is very serious, but more like your aunt.”

After topping off her glass, Lin Qingchao poured herself another and they drank together.

After the banquet, Qing Jiu was a little tipsy. Lin Qingchao left to deliver a birthday gift to the Palace Master and told Qing Jiu to wait for her outside.

Overwhelmed with fatigue, Qing Jiu leaned against the railing, hugging a column while faintly hearing a conversation in the background.

“Qingchao, you know it’s not the gift I care about, it’s the person.”

“Senior brother, you’re drunk.”

The man chuckled bitterly, “If I weren’t drunk, I wouldn’t be saying these things, letting you know how I feel.”

“Senior Brother, Qingchao already has someone she cares about. Why do you…”

“I understand, but Qingchao, love isn’t something you can control. You can’t just cut it off, discard it at will. You can’t do that, and neither can I. Even Yu Que… Never mind, I’m too drunk tonight. Go back to your room and rest.”

As their voices grew louder, the two speakers approached.

Qing Jiu called out to one of them, “Aunt.”

Lin Qingchao came over and took her hand, “Let’s go back.”

Standing beside Lin Qingchao was the Palace Master of the Qixian Palace, Gong Shang, a man of impeccable charm and grace. He smiled gently, “You must be Qing Jiu. In the future, treat the Qixian Palace as your own home. There’s no need to be restrained.”

Qing Jiu nodded, studying him for a moment. She found everyone at the Palace to be rather kind and gentle. She wondered how her master had ended up defying them and leaving the sect.

Lin Qingchao addressed Gong Shang, “Senior brother, we’re leaving.”

She led Qing Jiu back to their room, helping her onto the bed. Noticing her drooping eyelids, she realized Qing Jiu was thoroughly intoxicated.

Lin Qingchao chuckled, placing her cool hand on Qing Jiu’s heated cheek. She then took off Qing Jiu’s shoes, loosened her clothes, and helped her lie down.

Perhaps because it was a full moon night, and the moon was so round, it made one think of reunion and family, or maybe it was the tender moonlight and the stillness of the night that made one feel lonely.

Qing Jiu grabbed Lin Qingchao’s hand, “Aunt.”

“What is it?”

After looking at her for a moment, Qing Jiu asked, “Can you sleep with me for a while?”

“Alright.”

Lin Qingchao removed her shoes and lay down beside Qing Jiu in her clothes, kissed her forehead, and held her close, patting her back gently, whispering, “Sleep now.”

Qing Jiu had been trained in the Ghost Sect to be extremely cautious, always waking up if someone approached her while she slept.

She was usually a light sleeper, but tonight, perhaps the wine or the comforting presence of her aunt had relaxed her. She fell into a deep sleep and had a pleasant dream.

During her time at the Qixian Palace, Lin Qingchao gradually noticed Qing Jiu’s volatile nature and her lingering rage. She began teaching her to play the zither and flute, hoping to introduce her to the Qixians Palace’s spiritual disciplines.

As stated in the “Rites of Zhou,” “The zither is a form of restraint, a means to curb evil thoughts and correct one’s heart.”

Lin Qingchao wanted to help Qing Jiu shed her violent tendencies, but Qing Jiu resisted.

The luxurious, tranquil life at the Palace felt unnatural. It wasn’t a life she was meant to lead. She still had unfinished business, and staying here would only weaken her resolve. How could she speak of revenge while lounging in such comfort?

During their time together, Qing Jiu discovered that Lin Qingchao was an elegant and accomplished woman, skilled in painting, calligraphy, music, and chess. She loved wine and lived with a carefree spirit, easily making friends with everyone, including Qing Jiu.

Lin Qingchao cared deeply for her, reminding her of her mother, though Lin Qingchao was different in some ways.

Qing Jiu let down her guard, truly accepting this aunt into her heart, but that didn’t mean she planned to stay at the Qixian Palace long-term, or even remain by her side.

The Ghost Sect wouldn’t allow it, and neither would the burning rage that fueled her.

She had stayed from midsummer until the early spring of the following year, when she felt a growing desire to leave.