森林精灵

丛书: 姻緣黑線 (The Black String of Fate)
书名: 灰归灰，风归风 (Ashes to Ashes, Gust to Gust)
语言: 英语
概要: Shi Qingxuan laments that He Xuan is not as romantic as Crimson Rain Sought Flower.

The generous Wind Master had blessed with a lovely breeze the high pavilion in Quiet Water Manor where she and her He Xuan had retreated to spend the afternoon. The wind gently flowed from window to window, all arranged wide open, and the natural light passed through the many openings alike, filling the room with refreshing white hues and recreating the perfect ambiance for domestic harmony.

On one side of the room, Shi Qingxuan was sitting on a divan, with her legs crossed and her arms stretched to hold up a broad sheet of paper which covered her front from the top of her head to her lower chest. On the other side, He Xuan also sat at a desk, but with an ink brush in his hand and, before his eyes, an orderly pile of technical documents.

By all manners of appearances, it seemed as if they were both studying.

After a while made of sighs and hums, Shi Qingxuan folded her sheet into the large paper model of a crane and, with a flap of her fan, she made it fly across the room in He Xuan’s direction and let it land above the pile of documents he was working on, blowing away some and staining with ink some others.

He Xuan frowned at the paper bird.

“What is this?” he asked, discerning some drawings and writings on one side of the paper.

“Those are the plans for the temple that Crimson Rain Sought Flower is going to build for His Highness,” Shi Qingxuan said. “They had been sitting in a package on your desk for days, he wrote to ask for your opinion on the structural integrity. You’ve been ignoring the correspondence, so I opened it for you.”

“What did he send them to me for? I’m not the Earth Master anymore.”

“I’m sure he was asking your opinion as a trusted friend. Open it, open it! Is that not the most magnificent figure of a temple yet?”

With a meticulous method, He Xuan unfolded the paper crane back into a rectangle and looked over the overview of the temple in question. It was an immense building, intended to be painted in whites and reds, with roofs and pillars made of gold, with jaded floors and sculptures embellished with precious stones. Flowering trees and bushes of flowers abundant at every corner of the premises. The whole oeuvre was shamelessly opulent and, as a footnote reported, designed in the true style of the kingdom of Xianle.

“And is His Highness satisfied with these plans?” He Xuan enquired with a dubious look.

“Ahahahah! When he mentioned this project,” Shi Qingxuan said, recalling their conversation a few days earlier, “he said he’d rather have something more sober, but Hua Chengzhu cannot be moved! His Highness really doesn’t want this though, so it might not get done after all.”

“We can only hope. Overdone by the donor, unwanted by the recipient… It would be a waste of highly valuable materials.”

“It’s the thought that counts! It’s the demonstration of utter devotion!” Abandoning her hands on her crossed legs, Shi Qingxuan then sighed, “Ah, I wish you were as romantic as Crimson Rain Sought Flower…”

Folding the plans again and throwing them into the bin of discarded papers, He Xuan let out a rougher kind of sigh.

“You know that I don’t have money for this kind of temples. I do what I can and I don’t want to return in debt.”

Yes, truth to be told, after centuries of financial poverty, He Xuan was not in debt anymore. Before, he had rid the seas of hundreds of water ghouls and he had let the Water Master Wudu take the all credit for the waters' security. Now, for several decades, he himself had been holding the title of Water Master and half the offerings made to the temples of Wind and Water flowed directly into his purse, while the other half straight into the purse of his spouse. Both the positions of the Wind and the Water Master were no longer as profitable as the had once been in the past, yet just half of their combined income had been enough for He Xuan’s account towards Hua Cheng to be completely cleared and for his days of debt to be bygone. After having achieved a positive balance, he had pledged not to be incautious with his money.

Back on the divan, Shi Qingxuan was still thinking about gifts and romance.

“I don’t want a temple,” she said, gazing at the ceiling and trying to imagine what she might want instead.

He Xuan came to her help.

“But a set of new robes and jewels shouldn’t cost as much as that obscene temple,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We can afford those.”

“Xuan-xiong, between you and I, don’t we have robes and jewels enough?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I don’t know, something romantic! It doesn’t have be expensive, it can be some grand gesture!”

“Amuse me with an example.”

“For example, Crimson Rain has given his ashes to His Highness as a symbol of love. You haven’t given me your ashes.”

Hearing that, He Xuan widened his eyes and scoffed.

“It’s a foolish tradition,” he said, adjusting his sleeves as he talked. “What if they get stolen or lost? I’m not letting anyone go around with my ashes attached to their neck.”

“See what I mean?” Shi Qingxuan flung her finger upwards, pointing to some revealed truth. “You are not as romantic! You always have to be practical.”

There was no other choice but for the exchange to end in disagreement. Shi Qingxuan pretended to sulk and He Xuan pretended to return to work. The seconds passed.

After a silence, the latter spoke.

“Fine, I’m giving you my ashes,” he said, without raising his head from the texts on his desk.

“What?” Shi Qingxuan cried, quite startled. She soon added, “No!”

“What do you mean 'no'?” her companion said, ever so casually. “You have been nagging me for the last couple of minutes. Romance is what you want.”

“Yes, but you cannot possibly give me you ashes. I might trip and scatter them!”

“I’m willing to take the risk.”

“And it is more proper for them to rest along with those of your family.”

“Can’t they be half the time around your neck and half the time resting at their side?”

“You are missing my point completely!”

All the while, He Xuan, who had never had any intention of actually moving his ashes from his family’s mausoleum, was pretty satisfied with having got his own point across. After centuries of bleakness, he had finally managed to make a good life for himself and, of that life, he craved more and more. He wasn’t willing to risk his whole existence on chance, not even for love. His ashes truly had their final resting place in his family mausoleum and, as for Shi Qingxuan? He wasn’t willing to risk her life either. With her rested, not his ashes, but his fate: the immortal fate of a god. With due precautions, keeping his ashes safe and storing his fate within the one he loved, both Shi Qingxuan’s life and his own death would go on and on. So, why give her something that begged for fatality, when he could give her something to the opposite effect?

“So… ashes are a no,” He Xuan said, cleaning off his brush and putting it away on its stand. “How about we spend some money on a romantic dinner?”

Shi Qingxuan, readily agreed, leaping off the divan with joy.

The pavilion was abandoned with all the documents inside it, as, arm in arm, they walked towards the only room in the manor in which a Distance-Shortening Array could be cast.

Some traditions were better left to idealists. They already had some substantial traditions of their own.

The generous Wind Master had blessed with a lovely breeze the high pavilion in Quiet Water Manor where she and her He Xuan had retreated to spend the afternoon. The wind gently flowed from window to window, all arranged wide open, and the natural light passed through the many openings alike, filling the room with refreshing white hues and recreating the perfect ambiance for domestic harmony.

On one side of the room, Shi Qingxuan was sitting on a divan, with her legs crossed and her arms stretched to hold up a broad sheet of paper which covered her front from the top of her head to her lower chest. On the other side, He Xuan also sat at a desk, but with an ink brush in his hand and, before his eyes, an orderly pile of technical documents.

By all manners of appearances, it seemed as if they were both studying.

After a while made of sighs and hums, Shi Qingxuan folded her sheet into the large paper model of a crane and, with a flap of her fan, she made it fly across the room in He Xuan’s direction and let it land above the pile of documents he was working on, blowing away some and staining with ink some others.

He Xuan frowned at the paper bird.

“What is this?” he asked, discerning some drawings and writings on one side of the paper.

“Those are the plans for the temple that Crimson Rain Sought Flower is going to build for His Highness,” Shi Qingxuan said. “They had been sitting in a package on your desk for days, he wrote to ask for your opinion on the structural integrity. You’ve been ignoring the correspondence, so I opened it for you.”

“What did he send them to me for? I’m not the Earth Master anymore.”

“I’m sure he was asking your opinion as a trusted friend. Open it, open it! Is that not the most magnificent figure of a temple yet?”

With a meticulous method, He Xuan unfolded the paper crane back into a rectangle and looked over the overview of the temple in question. It was an immense building, intended to be painted in whites and reds, with roofs and pillars made of gold, with jaded floors and sculptures embellished with precious stones. Flowering trees and bushes of flowers abundant at every corner of the premises. The whole oeuvre was shamelessly opulent and, as a footnote reported, designed in the true style of the kingdom of Xianle.

“And is His Highness satisfied with these plans?” He Xuan enquired with a dubious look.

“Ahahahah! When he mentioned this project,” Shi Qingxuan said, recalling their conversation a few days earlier, “he said he’d rather have something more sober, but Hua Chengzhu cannot be moved! His Highness really doesn’t want this though, so it might not get done after all.”

“We can only hope. Overdone by the donor, unwanted by the recipient… It would be a waste of highly valuable materials.”

“It’s the thought that counts! It’s the demonstration of utter devotion!” Abandoning her hands on her crossed legs, Shi Qingxuan then sighed, “Ah, I wish you were as romantic as Crimson Rain Sought Flower…”

Folding the plans again and throwing them into the bin of discarded papers, He Xuan let out a rougher kind of sigh.

“You know that I don’t have money for this kind of temples. I do what I can and I don’t want to return in debt.”

Yes, truth to be told, after centuries of financial poverty, He Xuan was not in debt anymore. Before, he had rid the seas of hundreds of water ghouls and he had let the Water Master Wudu take the all credit for the waters' security. Now, for several decades, he himself had been holding the title of Water Master and half the offerings made to the temples of Wind and Water flowed directly into his purse, while the other half straight into the purse of his spouse. Both the positions of the Wind and the Water Master were no longer as profitable as the had once been in the past, yet just half of their combined income had been enough for He Xuan’s account towards Hua Cheng to be completely cleared and for his days of debt to be bygone. After having achieved a positive balance, he had pledged not to be incautious with his money.

Back on the divan, Shi Qingxuan was still thinking about gifts and romance.

“I don’t want a temple,” she said, gazing at the ceiling and trying to imagine what she might want instead.

He Xuan came to her help.

“But a set of new robes and jewels shouldn’t cost as much as that obscene temple,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We can afford those.”

“Xuan-xiong, between you and I, don’t we have robes and jewels enough?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I don’t know, something romantic! It doesn’t have be expensive, it can be some grand gesture!”

“Amuse me with an example.”

“For example, Crimson Rain has given his ashes to His Highness as a symbol of love. You haven’t given me your ashes.”

Hearing that, He Xuan widened his eyes and scoffed.

“It’s a foolish tradition,” he said, adjusting his sleeves as he talked. “What if they get stolen or lost? I’m not letting anyone go around with my ashes attached to their neck.”

“See what I mean?” Shi Qingxuan flung her finger upwards, pointing to some revealed truth. “You are not as romantic! You always have to be practical.”

There was no other choice but for the exchange to end in disagreement. Shi Qingxuan pretended to sulk and He Xuan pretended to return to work. The seconds passed.

After a silence, the latter spoke.

“Fine, I’m giving you my ashes,” he said, without raising his head from the texts on his desk.

“What?” Shi Qingxuan cried, quite startled. She soon added, “No!”

“What do you mean 'no'?” her companion said, ever so casually. “You have been nagging me for the last couple of minutes. Romance is what you want.”

“Yes, but you cannot possibly give me you ashes. I might trip and scatter them!”

“I’m willing to take the risk.”

“And it is more proper for them to rest along with those of your family.”

“Can’t they be half the time around your neck and half the time resting at their side?”

“You are missing my point completely!”

All the while, He Xuan, who had never had any intention of actually moving his ashes from his family’s mausoleum, was pretty satisfied with having got his own point across. After centuries of bleakness, he had finally managed to make a good life for himself and, of that life, he craved more and more. He wasn’t willing to risk his whole existence on chance, not even for love. His ashes truly had their final resting place in his family mausoleum and, as for Shi Qingxuan? He wasn’t willing to risk her life either. With her rested, not his ashes, but his fate: the immortal fate of a god. With due precautions, keeping his ashes safe and storing his fate within the one he loved, both Shi Qingxuan’s life and his own death would go on and on. So, why give her something that begged for fatality, when he could give her something to the opposite effect?

“So… ashes are a no,” He Xuan said, cleaning off his brush and putting it away on its stand. “How about we spend some money on a romantic dinner?”

Shi Qingxuan, readily agreed, leaping off the divan with joy.

The pavilion was abandoned with all the documents inside it, as, arm in arm, they walked towards the only room in the manor in which a Distance-Shortening Array could be cast.

Some traditions were better left to idealists. They already had some substantial traditions of their own.