Incurable Chapter 30 Part 1

Chapter 30 (1/2)

The man’s embrace carried the scent of wine and sandalwood, as though some long-held commandment had just been broken, and in an instant the skies had cleared.

Curled in his arms, with the clean wind and bright moon before her and stray strands of hair stirring by her ear, Mu Wan could hear a steady, powerful heartbeat thudding against her eardrums.

It was not only her own.

She had heard what he had just said. Mu Wan lifted her gaze to him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted.

“Liu Qianxiu...” Her voice trembled.

“Mm.” He answered softly.

Perhaps because things had gone more perfectly than she had ever dared hope, her vision blurred. His voice lingered in her ear, and for a moment, everything felt unreal again.

She did not move. Liu Qianxiu took her hand and pressed it against his chest.

His heart beat beneath her palm. Mu Wan’s throat went dry.

Holding her hand as though he were holding the very truth within himself, he placed it over his heart. Something flickered across her face, then slowly brightened.

The Taoist temple was pure and still. A few insects called in the night. Yet the bodies pressed close together had become unbearably loud.

“Junior Brother.”

A child’s sweet, aggrieved voice, still heavy with sleep, shattered the charged stillness beneath the moon.

Time, which had seemed suspended, suddenly rushed forward again.

Mu Wan froze. The heat in her body rushed straight to her face. She braced her palm against his chest, trying to sit up. But Liu Qianxiu tightened his arm around her waist just a little. Her body softened at once and fell back into his arms. Her burning cheek pressed against his chest. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, holding her there.

“What is it?” Liu Qianxiu lifted his eyes. Aside from the hot breath spilling from the woman in his arms, there was no more struggle.

Qingchan stood at the entrance to the main hall, one small hand on the wooden door, eyes drooping. “A nightmare woke me up,” he said. “Junior Brother, can you sleep with me tonight?”

Qingchan was only seven. For all his calm manner, he was still a child, afraid of the dark and afraid of bad dreams. He had listened to a thousand teachings, but when it came down to it, he still wanted his master to sleep beside him. If Master was not here, then Junior Brother would do.

“All right,” Liu Qianxiu said.

His body did not move, but the woman in his arms did. Her fingers tightened in his robe, clutching the fabric.

Qingchan stood there waiting, his mind gradually clearing. Only then did he truly see the man and woman in the main hall.

His junior brother sat upright. Sister Mu Wan was lying in his arms, their bodies very close. Her narrow shoulders trembled faintly. Her long fingers clutched at his robe. Her face was buried against his chest, and beneath her thick black hair, only one small ear was visible.

Red enough to drip blood.

“What’s wrong with Sister?” Qingchan asked, puzzled.

At his question, the visible ear turned even redder.

The woman in his arms had already gone burning hot, the heat of her body seeping through the thin layers of cloth against his skin. A faint shift passed through Liu Qianxiu’s eyes. Lowering his head, he looked at Mu Wan and said evenly, “She drank a little wine and feels unwell, so she’s being clingy.”

“Oh.” Qingchan nodded, half understanding, half not.

Mu Wan was mortified. Her palms were damp with sweat.

Liu Qianxiu exhaled softly. His hand moved over the back of her head in a soothing stroke, like a hand brushing across duckweed on a still lake, stirring quiet, delicate ripples.

He lowered his head slightly. His lips came close to her ear. His body was still cool, but the words he spoke were unbearably hot.

“I’ll go put him back to sleep first. Then I’ll come back and talk to you.”

After that, he stroked her hair once or twice more. The strands slipped through his fingers. Then he eased her against the low table and rose to his feet.

“Come,” Liu Qianxiu said, taking Qingchan’s hand.

Throughout it all, Mu Wan never lifted her head. Her face was burning. Whether from heat or from the wine, even she did not know. She had to stay awake. Liu Qianxiu still had something to say to her.

Tonight, he had to make it clear. What desire did he mean? And for whom?

Beneath the temple lantern, the woman’s figure was graceful and slim. She looked like a little demon who had only just tasted love—at a loss, yet secretly delighted.

Qingchan had been woken by a nightmare, and after that, he chatted with Liu Qianxiu for a while. By the time his mind had fully cleared, it had become harder for him to fall asleep again. It took Liu Qianxiu some time to coax him back to sleep.

Only after Qingchan was asleep did he rise, close the door, and return to the main hall.

The scent of bayberry wine still lingered there. Mu Wan was lying face down on the table, her cheek turned to the side, eyes closed, breathing evenly. She had fallen asleep, too.

The wines brewed by Xuan Qingzi all had a strong aftereffect. Liu Qianxiu himself had grown warm after only one cup. She had drunk three.

The mountain temple at night was cool and wind-washed. Standing in the main hall, Liu Qianxiu raised his eyes to the three statues in the center of the shrine, steadied his breathing, then walked over and lifted the woman into his arms.

She was slender and long-limbed, light as a white feather. Yet it was precisely this feather that had disturbed the still dust of his heart.

He moved as gently as he could. Mu Wan slept deeply. Even when he laid her down on the bed, she did not wake.

The room was dark. Only a little light from the main hall seeped through the window, faintly brightening the space. Liu Qianxiu stood by the bed, looking at her fair, vivid little face. His Adam’s apple moved once.

After a long moment, he pulled the thin blanket over her, then turned and left the room.

The bayberry wine’s aftereffect truly was strong. Mu Wan had forced herself to stay awake, but in the end, alcohol won.

Her consciousness sank, but her obsession remained clear. Even in her dream, she was still clutching at the man’s robe, asking him what exactly he had meant by that last sentence.

Dream-Liu Qianxiu refused to answer her.

Mu Wan woke with a start.

Her body was damp with sweat. Looking out the window, she saw that the world was still washed in darkness. Morning mist drifted through the temple, leaving it quiet and cold, far removed from the human world. The air was damp and cool. Mu Wan climbed out of bed, threw on a jacket, and pushed open the door.

Incense was already burning on the table in the main hall, glowing faintly through white curling smoke. Outside came the sound of sweeping. Mu Wan’s eyes moved, and she hurried out.

Qingchan was holding a broom, sweeping up a scatter of fallen leaves. When the leaves rolled to his feet, he turned and saw her. At once, he smiled, his cheeks pink from the effort, soft and lively.

“Sister, you’re awake.”

“Mm.” Mu Wan barely stopped herself from rushing straight over. She looked at the already-clean courtyard and asked, “Did you sweep all this?”

There was little entertainment in the temple. The young Taoist spent his days reading and cultivating quietly. He slept early and rose early. Qingchan gripped the broom in his small hand, squinted with a smile, and shook his head. “Junior Brother swept most of it. I only did the finishing.”

“That’s strange,” Qingchan said with a grin. “Yesterday, Junior Brother said that when you felt bad, you got clingy. Why are you still clingy this morning if you don’t feel bad anymore?”

Mu Wan: “...”

Qingchan did not understand why she had turned red. He pointed down a narrow path behind the old pine tree and said, “Every morning Junior Brother goes to the cliff to cultivate quietly. You can find him there. He’s been gone for a while already, so he should be coming back soon.”

Now that she had already been officially branded clingy, Mu Wan did not bother pretending otherwise. She pinched Qingchan’s little topknot again. The boy gave a tiny “Ai-ya,” soft and springy, suddenly losing all the solemn composure he had just been using to lecture her. She laughed, rose, and headed down the path.

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