Chapter 12: Riverside Immortal (Part 6)
“My injuries are mostly from when I was alive. Don’t worry.”
Beneath his clothes, his skin slowly cracked, the countless sword and knife wounds staining his garments. Xu He Xue tightened his sleeves, not wanting her to see.
He had no flesh and blood body. The wounds and blood were manifestations of damage to his spirit form. Like a living person, he bore wounds and bled, but the blood was his diminishing soul fire.
Whenever he used his powers in the mortal realm, his injuries, both from life and death, became a form of punishment.
But he didn’t want to tell her this.
“But helping me is causing you great pain.” Even though he often appeared frail, Ni Su could tell that his current condition was far worse than usual.
No wonder he had walked so slowly from the Rainbow Bridge to the inn, much slower than before.
“I know medicine, but it’s useless on you.” Ni Su crouched down, knowing he didn’t want her to touch him, and placed her hands on the edge of the bed. “Tell me, how can I help you?”
Xu He Xue lowered his gaze, watching Ni Su leaning over him. The several candles behind her cast a warm, bright light, giving her hair a golden halo.
“Light another candle,” he said.
“Alright.” Ni Su immediately stood up and returned to the table, lighting another candle. She placed it carefully on the table and turned back to see Xu He Xue, supporting himself with one hand on the bedpost, slowly sitting up.
He was looking out the window again.
Ni Su followed his gaze. Silvery threads of light swirled around a single spark of soul fire by the window.
“Ni Su,” his weak voice came from behind her. “I found him.”
A light rain fell over Yun Jing, but the night market remained lively. People chatted and ate under the felt awnings, and the entertainment district by the river was brightly lit, its lights reflected in the Yunxiang River as boats with hanging lanterns slowly drifted under the bridges.
The streets were crowded. Moreover, riding horses at night was forbidden in the capital. Ni Su ran through the crowd, the soft rain brushing against her face. Countless pairs of eyes lingered on her briefly, but she didn’t notice, focused only on following the soul fire that only she could see.
The city gates of Yun Jing loomed like dark mountains in the dim light. Ni Su watched as the soul fire drifted over the city walls. She stopped abruptly, looking at the closed gates and the guards in their stiff armor.
A gust of wind blew the rain sideways. Distant thunder rumbled. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist. She looked up and saw a man’s profile.
Thick, long eyelashes cast beautiful shadows on his cheeks. The lantern in Ni Su’s hand lifted into the air as they soared silently over the city walls.
The lantern light flickered above. The guards at the gate and on the tower looked up almost simultaneously, but saw only the thickening rain and mist.
The wind and rain beat against Ni Su’s face. Seeing shimmering dust swirling around them, she tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go down quickly.”
As soon as she spoke, Xu He Xue seemed to lose his strength, and they plummeted towards the trees below.
The rain fell steadily. The expected pain didn’t come. Ni Su opened her eyes and saw the dark, crane-embroidered fabric of a cloak. She was lying in someone’s arms.
An embrace colder than the rain on her face.
“Xu Zi Ling, are you alright?” Ni Su quickly sat up.
Xu He Xue shook his head, raising a long, slender finger. Ni Su followed his gesture and saw the floating soul fire.
“Why is my brother outside Yun Jing City?” Unease and confusion filled Ni Su’s heart.
“Follow it, and you’ll find out,” Xu He Xue said, supporting himself against a tree trunk as he stood up. Raindrops from the pine branches trickled down his fingers.
The last flicker of the lantern flame was extinguished by the rain. Ni Su instinctively looked up at his eyes, dark and empty.
She reached out, then hesitated, asking softly, “Can I touch you?”
She remembered his silent resistance at the inn.
Xu He Xue turned his head towards her voice, as if looking at her. Raindrops brushed against his face. He lowered his eyelids and slowly extended his hand.
Ni Su, seeing his outstretched hand, took it without hesitation.
Rainwater dripped through their intertwined fingers. Ni Su supported him as they followed the soul fire. Although there was no lantern light, the shimmering dust emanating from Xu He Xue provided enough illumination for her to see.
The rain intensified in the mountains, and thunder crashed.
In a dilapidated temple, a beggar sleeping against the wall woke with a start. Although it was early autumn and still warm, his ragged clothes were soaked, and he shivered.
A small candle burned in the temple. The beggar looked up, rainwater dripping onto his face through the cracks in the roof.
A rustling sound came from the altar. The beggar looked over and saw his grandfather examining a statue of Buddha by the flickering candlelight.
“Grandpa, what are you looking at?” the beggar asked, wiping the rain from his face.
The white-haired old beggar looked over and beckoned him. “Boy, come and look at the back of this Buddha statue.”
The beggar, confused, crawled out of his pile of straw. Rainwater poured through the holes in the roof, making the floor wet and slippery. Barefoot, he carefully made his way over, grumbling, “The Buddha statues in the mountains are all made of mud by poor people like us. What’s there to see…”
He stopped mid-sentence, hearing approaching footsteps. He and his grandfather turned and saw a flash of lightning illuminate a woman standing outside the rain-swept temple.
Her plum-green skirt was stained with mud, raindrops clinging to the strands of hair around her face. Her gaze fell on the two beggars, then quickly shifted as she entered the temple, looking around.
The beggars followed her gaze.
The old beggar, accidentally burning his hand with candle wax, hissed in pain. Seeing the woman look at him, he asked, puzzled, “Miss, what are you doing here?”
Encountering a young woman in a remote mountain temple on a rainy night struck him as odd.
“When did you arrive here? Have you seen a young man?” Ni Su asked, the water squelching under her wet shoes.
“This isn’t a pleasant place to be. Besides us, who would come to a place like this where you can’t even escape the rain?” the young beggar said.
It was true. The temple was drafty and damp.
But Ni Su had followed the soul fire here. If her brother, Ni Qinglan, wasn’t here, why would the soul fire lead her to this place?
Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the temple. The cold light of the lightning mingled with the warm glow of the candle the old beggar carefully shielded. Ni Su saw the soul fire again.
She followed it, quickly walking behind the mud Buddha statue.
The soul fire vanished.
Rainwater pattered against the broken roof tiles.
Ni Su looked around frantically. The temple was small, nothing but crumbling walls and broken windows. A flash of lightning illuminated her face. She froze and turned abruptly.
The light cast sharp shadows on the Buddha statue’s painted shoulders and neck.
The statue’s broad back was a different color than the rest, like fresh, un-dried mud.
The beggars exchanged puzzled glances. Suddenly, the young woman picked up a brick and smashed it against the back of the statue.
“What are you doing? Don’t disrespect the Buddha!” the old beggar cried, dropping the candle.
Ni Su ignored him, continuing to strike the statue.
Choking on the dust, she coughed. The brick finally broke through the statue’s back, chunks of mud falling away. The old beggar gasped. “The statue is hollow…”
Something wrapped tightly in black cloth fell to the ground with a thud, cutting off the old beggar’s words.
The stench of decay filled the damp air.
Lightning flashed again. The young beggar saw a decomposing hand protruding from the black cloth and screamed in terror.
The old beggar quickly covered his grandson’s eyes, then turned to see the pale-faced young woman take two steps forward, bend down, and reach out.
Her hand trembled uncontrollably.
She paused, then, with a sudden movement, ripped away the black cloth.
Thunder roared, and the rain poured down.
The old beggar turned away, retching.
The corpse on the ground was unrecognizable, but Ni Su recognized the silver hairpin in his hair and the clothes her mother had sewn for him before he left.
Her mind reeled. Her lips parted, trembling, but no sound came out.
Terrified, the beggars, forgetting the rain, ran out of the temple.
The night rain intensified.
Ni Su’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.
“Brother…” Tears streamed down her face as she buried her hands in the mud. “Brother…”
Xu He Xue, his figure faint, slowly made his way towards the door, his hand on the frame for support. He was so translucent that the fleeing beggars hadn’t even noticed him.
“Ni Su?” he called softly.
A single candle still burned in the temple, but its light didn’t reach him. His world was dark. He didn’t hear Ni Su’s reply, only her choked sobs and the whispered word, “Brother.”
Her cries mingled with the sound of the rain.
Xu He Xue groped his way forward, slowly, until he reached her side.
He tentatively reached out, his hand moving downwards, until he touched her shoulder, his fingers wet with rain.
She was drenched.
Xu He Xue untied the sash of his dark cloak, leaned down, and gently draped it over her.
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