Mu Wan returned to her room, where the light from the main hall shone through the window. The flickering lamplight cast elongated shadows on the square tiles outside the hall—three shadows, though she couldn’t tell which one belonged to Liu Qianxiu. She sat on the bed watching for a while, barely turning two pages of her book before drowsiness overtook her. She fell asleep clutching the book.
After an unknown period, Liu Qianxiu returned. The night air was chilly, and he carried a hint of that coolness with him, along with the rich scent of sandalwood incense from the main hall. Mu Wan inhaled the fragrance, and her body, warmed by sleep, rolled into his embrace.
The contact between their contrasting temperatures sent a shiver through both of them. Half-asleep, Mu Wan clung to him and murmured, “You’re back.”
“Mhm.” Liu Qianxiu raised his hand to touch her cheek, but hesitated, aware his fingers were too cold. He pulled the thin blanket over her instead. Lying on his side, he held her close in his arms.
Sandalwood had a calming effect. Mu Wan wanted to say more to Liu Qianxiu, but drowsiness overwhelmed her, and she eventually drifted off. They had all the time in the world; why rush to speak tonight?
Breathing in the faint, lingering scent of sandalwood, Mu Wan slept exceptionally soundly and comfortably. She went to bed early and woke early. Upon waking, she shifted slightly beneath the thin blanket. The bed retained some warmth, but he was no longer there.
Opening her eyes, Mu Wan surveyed her surroundings. Coming to her senses, she rose from the bed.
It was only 6:30 a.m. The sun rose early in the mountains, bringing light quickly, yet the air held a dampness that gathered into thick fog. Mist swirled and rose as Mu Wan stood outside the hall, gazing at the divine statue within the main sanctuary. She heard the sound of sweeping outside.
Mu Wan stepped outside. The fog was thick there, too. Looking up, she could only make out the peaks of the opposite mountain range. The air felt damp, as if rain were imminent.
“Sister, you’re awake?” The weather had turned cooler, and leaves were beginning to fall. Qing Chan wore a Taoist robe, her hair tied in a bun. At her feet, a small broom had already gathered a pile of fallen leaves. His small frame stood straight and tall as he held the broom and smiled at Mu Wan.
“You’re up so early?” Mu Wan approached and pinched his cheek. They were much closer now than before; Qingchan let her pinch him, his little face flushed rosy.
“We must rise at six for morning practice,” Qingchan replied. “Master has gone to the bamboo grove for his morning practice. Junior Brother is by the cliffside—I took you to see him last time.”
Muwan heard this and felt a strong urge to find Liu Qianxiu. But she remembered how warm his sleeping spot still felt when she rose—he must have left only recently.
“Are you going to find Junior Brother?” Qingchan asked, tilting his head when she fell silent.
“No,” Mu Wan smiled, tugging at his topknot. “Do you still have the broom? I’ll help you sweep the fallen leaves.”
Having company naturally pleased Qingchan. Though he’d been a Taoist novice at the temple since childhood, he still retained a childlike nature, unlike Liu Qianxiu and Xuan Qingzi, who were reserved and aloof.
But they’d only swept together for a short while when a light rain began to fall. Qingchan picked up the broom, frowned, and took Mu Wan’s hand. “Sister, I’ll go bring Master an umbrella. You go bring Junior Brother one.”
Having a reason to visit Liu Qianxiu, Mu Wan readily agreed. After she nodded, Qing Chan handed her an oil-paper umbrella. Holding it open, Mu Wan hurried along the path toward the cliff edge.
The rain fell neither too hard nor too soft, pattering rhythmically on the oil-paper umbrella. Drops pooled together, trickling down onto the wild grasses by the path. Mu Wan quickened her pace and soon reached the cliff’s edge.
Liu Qianxiu sat cross-legged in meditation at the cliff’s edge, his tall, lean silhouette facing away. His blue Taoist robe was already half-soaked.
“Liu Qianxiu,” Mu Wan called out.
Liu Qianxiu snapped back to awareness, turning his head. His eyes, once hazy like distant mountain mists, gradually sharpened as he looked at her. He rose from the cushion. Mu Wan stepped forward, extending her arm to steady him.
He was too tall, and Mu Wan struggled slightly to support him. Liu Qianxiu gripped her waist with one hand while the other grasped the umbrella handle, taking it from her.
Raindrops slid down the man’s face. His cold, pale skin made the droplets look icy. Mu Wan frowned deeply, wiping his face as she said, “Didn’t you know it was raining?”
Liu Qianxiu took her hand. Their palms met—his was dry and cool.
Liu Qianxiu looked up at the falling rain and said, “It’s getting heavier.”
“You didn’t know it was raining?” Mu Wan laughed incredulously, her hand still held in his. She tilted her head back to look at him. “Nothing in the outside world can shake your pure heart, right?”
A fine misty rain fell, shrouding the cliff walls and the pine and cypress trees on the mountain in a haze, like a fairyland—a gentle breeze swept by. Liu Qianxiu lowered his gaze slightly, meeting her eyes.
“Yes.” He lowered his head to kiss her lips softly, murmuring, “The only thing that can shake my heart is you.”
The fine rain seemed laced with honey, even the cool breeze carrying a sweetness. Mu Wan tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes crinkling with laughter. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.
Even clad in his Taoist robes, he remained utterly captivating.
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