Perhaps it was to practice her spells, or perhaps out of sheer boredom.
Bai Qingxue began to play her flute occasionally in the evenings.
At first, there was no fixed time. Sometimes she played just as the twilight crept over the courtyard walls, and other times when the moon had already risen, casting its light across half the yard.
Bai Qingxue would sit on the stone stool beneath the old plum tree, holding the Frost Moon Chant to her lips to play short, formless tunes. It could hardly be called practice, much less a performance; it was more as if her fingers had found the holes on their own, and her breath had naturally found its rhythm.
She merely sat there, letting the music flow out on its own.
Those short tunes were very brief, lasting no more than a dozen breaths at most, and sometimes consisting of only a few notes.
It was like someone talking to themselves in a very low voice, stopping as soon as they finished, expecting no response. Sometimes, she would repeat the same melody two or three times, each rendition softer than the last.
When Lu Xueqing arrived, Bai Qingxue was sitting on the stone stool, playing a tune she had never heard before.
Bai Qingxue's profile was outlined in a faint gold by the twilight. The Frost Moon Chant was held horizontally before her lips, obscuring the lower half of her face, leaving only her lowered eyelashes and straight nose visible.
Without making a sound, Lu Xueqing sat down by the stone table.
She did not immediately reach for the teapot as she usually did, but simply sat there, listening quietly. The tune was very short, lasting less than ten breaths before it came to a stop.
Bai Qingxue lowered the flute, resting it on her knees. Only then did Lu Xueqing reach out to pick up the teapot and pour herself a cup of tea.
“A new piece?” she asked.
“It's not a piece,” Bai Qingxue said. “Just playing at random.”
Lu Xueqing did not press further.
She raised the cup and took a sip. Letting the tea linger in her mouth for a moment, she swallowed and set the cup back on the table. The two sat in the gathering twilight, the shadow of the old plum tree stretching between them.
Bai Qingxue did not play a second tune, and Lu Xueqing did not ask any more questions.
The next evening, Bai Qingxue played again.
This time, she sat beneath the old plum tree, the Frost Moon Chant held to her lips, playing a melody different from the day before.
Lu Xueqing arrived a bit earlier than yesterday. The tea had already been brewed and set on the stone table, sending up its last few wisps of steam.
She sat down before Bai Qingxue even began to play, waiting quietly.
When Bai Qingxue finished and lowered her flute, Lu Xueqing slid the teacup over. The tea was neither too hot nor too cold, perfect for drinking.
Bai Qingxue picked up the cup and took a sip.
The window of the side room was also open.
Ning Qinghan was sitting on the windowsill, her bare feet resting on the edge of the frame with her toes dangling over the outside. Leaning her back against the frame, she looked as relaxed as a cat basking in the sun.
With her head tilted to the side, her gaze was fixed on the twilight beyond the courtyard walls, making it hard to tell whether she was listening to the flute or thinking of something else.
She did not turn her head when Bai Qingxue set down her teacup.
After the music stopped, Ning Qinghan sat for a few moments longer before sliding down from the windowsill, her bare feet stepping onto the floor of the side room.
A few days later, Su Zhaoyan came to Xueji Peak.
The afternoon sun was just right. Su Zhaoyan walked up the stone steps, her red robes fluttering gently in the mountain wind.
Without knocking, she pushed open the door to Lu Xueqing's courtyard, only to find that Lu Xueqing was not there.
An open scroll lay spread out on the stone table in Lu Xueqing's yard.
Su Zhaoyan stood in the courtyard for a moment, then turned her head to look toward the neighboring yard.
That was Bai Qingxue's courtyard.
Carried by the wind, an extremely faint flute melody drifted over.
It was intermittent and lacked a proper tune, yet it was surprisingly pleasant to listen to.
Su Zhaoyan turned and walked over, and as expected, she spotted Lu Xueqing at the entrance of the neighboring courtyard.
Lu Xueqing stood by the door, leaning slightly against the frame. She held a cup of tea that was already half-empty, with a faint lip mark on the rim.
Her head was tilted as her gaze rested beneath the old plum tree in the courtyard. Bai Qingxue was sitting there, the Frost Moon Chant held to her lips, her silver-white hair swaying gently in the evening wind.
She played with great focus—or at least, she appeared highly focused. Her eyes were half-closed, her long eyelashes casting shadows that obscured her pupils.
Without making a sound, Su Zhaoyan quietly walked up behind Lu Xueqing and patted her on the shoulder.
Lu Xueqing whipped her head around. Seeing it was Su Zhaoyan, she froze for a moment before frowning. “When did you get here?”
“While you were listening so intently,” Su Zhaoyan said with a smile. She kept her voice very low, as if sharing a secret that shouldn't be overheard by a third person.
Su Zhaoyan tilted her head and peered over Lu Xueqing's shoulder, glancing at Bai Qingxue beneath the old plum tree.
Unaware of their presence, Bai Qingxue continued to play her short tune, her fingers moving slowly over the holes of the flute.
Su Zhaoyan watched for a couple of breaths before shifting her gaze to Lu Xueqing's face.
Her eyes moved from the hand holding the teacup to Lu Xueqing's slightly tilted neck, finally resting on the faint blush on her ears.
“Eldest Senior Sister Lu,” Su Zhaoyan said unhurriedly, her voice as light as if she were chatting about the weather. “Are you still pining after a single flower?”
Lu Xueqing's finger paused on the rim of the cup. She did not turn to look at Su Zhaoyan, her gaze remaining fixed on Bai Qingxue, but the faint blush on her ears deepened.
She remained silent for two breaths, then lowered her head to look at the tea in her cup. The tea had already gone cold, a thin film forming on its surface, reflecting a dull light in the twilight.
Lu Xueqing spoke.
Her voice was quiet, as if she were talking to herself, or perhaps refuting something she herself was reluctant to admit.
“It's not unrequited.”
Su Zhaoyan raised an eyebrow slightly. Lu Xueqing did not look at her, nor did she offer any further explanation. She simply stood there, holding the cold tea, her eyes still fixed on the courtyard.
Evidently, at least in Su Zhaoyan's eyes, falling for someone like Bai Qingxue was no different from unrequited love.
Just then, Bai Qingxue finished a segment and lowered her flute.
She turned her head to look toward the courtyard gate.
Bai Qingxue's gaze met Lu Xueqing's through the twilight, only to pull apart an instant later.
Standing behind Lu Xueqing, Su Zhaoyan watched the twilight that stretched between them.
She fell silent for a moment and then smiled, though her smile had lost its previous teasing quality.
Withdrawing her hand, she tucked it into her sleeve and turned to walk down the stone steps.
Her footsteps gradually faded into the distance along the empty mountain path.
After walking a dozen yards, Su Zhaoyan stopped and looked back.
Lu Xueqing was still standing there, holding the completely cold cup of tea, the twilight draping over her shoulders.
Su Zhaoyan watched for a couple of breaths, said nothing, and turned to leave.
Bai Qingxue placed the Frost Moon Chant on her lap and turned her head to look at Lu Xueqing. “The tea is cold.”
Lu Xueqing looked down at the cup in her hand. “Mhm.”
As she spoke, Lu Xueqing splashed the cold tea at the base of the wall, the liquid soaking into the soil and leaving a small, dark damp patch. Then, she walked into the courtyard, sat down beside Bai Qingxue, and poured herself a fresh cup of hot tea.
Bai Qingxue did not play her flute again. She simply sat there, watching the twilight slowly deepen.
The window of the side room was still open, but the windowsill was empty. Who knew where that lazy cat had gone off to.
Rate on N.U.
