Ein Bericht über Vergnügen

Kapitel 55

It was like an explanation, just a light, casual remark.

"Your injuries are severe. Put him down and I'll bandage him for you."

Yichun looked at him as if he were a dead man made of mud.

She swung her sword at him, but the people behind her immediately stood up and restrained her, and a fight broke out again.

Uncle Yin walked over, his face extremely grim, and said softly, "Young Master... I have made a grave mistake and should accept punishment. But this girl can no longer be kept alive; it would be better to kill her!"

Yan Yufei remained silent for a long time. Finally, he seemed to sigh, turned around with his hands behind his back, and said, "...Very well. We will find another reliable person to inherit the Zhanchun Sword."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the door to the back hall opened, and Mo Yunqing's furious voice rang out: "What's all this noise about?! If you want to kill or set fires, go somewhere else! Don't disturb our peace!"

Yichun shuddered and quickly turned to look at him, never expecting him to appear here.

Mo Yunqing seemed to have seen her too, and was suddenly stunned. When he saw that she was holding Yang Shen's body in her arms, an extremely sad expression flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant.

"Oh, it's you." He said casually. "It seems Yang Shen was killed for disobeying. You'd better be obedient, or you'll get killed again and we'll have to find a successor for Zhan Chun."

Yi Chun didn't speak; she slowly looked around. There was Mo Yunqing, Uncle Yin, Yan Yufei, many members of the Yan Clan, and the inn's staff. Ningning was still sitting in the side hall on the second floor, and there was also a master from Jianlan Manor.

She looked at everyone, whether she knew them before or not.

Finally, he gripped the sword tightly and whispered, "Come on, let's fight again. Whoever dies loses."

All she remembered was the chaotic fighting, constantly swinging her sword, constantly dodging, and constantly splattering blood.

Finally, many exclamations came from the courtyard, and then she knew nothing more.

****

Yichun woke up covered in blood and saw a full moon hanging in the sky, its clear light stretching for miles, so large that it seemed she could reach out and pluck it from the sky.

It was very cold; a bone-chilling cold seeped into every crack and wound in my body, making my blood feel like it was about to freeze.

She exhaled, and the white mist swirled upwards before dissipating in an instant.

A small boat swayed gently on the surface of the lake, where ice shards were scattered. Occasionally, the boat would collide with a block of ice, and the sound of the clattering echoed in the quiet night.

Yichun was a little disoriented; she must have just had a strange dream and was now awake.

She's here, and she's doing well. Yang Shen is here, and he's doing well too.

Faintly, I could hear the sound of strings being plucked, leisurely and carefree, like a casual breeze.

The sanxian (a three-stringed plucked instrument) sang, and a man sang along: "The jade palace is clean and dust-free, the precious moon is as round as a mirror. The wind stirs the green sleeves, and flowers fall in the quiet courtyard."

Yichun strained to lift her head and saw a man leaning against the bow of the boat, holding a sanxian (a three-stringed plucked instrument) and singing a cappella.

He wore a silver-red jacket and a fluffy sable scarf around his neck, its color as beautiful as jade. At his feet was a small table with hot tea on it, the steam rising and filling the air with a fragrant aroma.

She stared blankly for a long time, then let out a hoarse voice: "...Shu Jun".

Shu Jun put down his sanxian, looked down at him, and seemed to have a thousand words to say, but in the end it all boiled down to one sentence: "You still have a life left."

She didn't answer; her wounds had been treated and neatly bandaged, which should be attributed to him.

She wanted to say thank you, but she couldn't say anything at all.

Shu Jun then tossed a handkerchief to her face and said softly, "Sleep a little longer."

Yichun obediently closed her eyes and really fell asleep.

She dreamt of many, many people and many, many things, and her forehead felt like it was being squeezed and was throbbing.

Finally, everything became a blurry background, and from the depths of the white light, little bits of peach pink blossomed. That was the peach grove behind Jianlan Manor, where the flowers were in full bloom, the rain was just right, and the boy in the grove appeared at the perfect moment.

He lost his temper: "My name is Yang Shen! How can you be so proud of pronouncing someone else's name like that?"

He was occasionally shy: Senior sister's outfit today... is much better.

He was equally passionate: "I can't do anything. Yichun, as long as you're alive, that's better than anything else."

Finally, they drew lots together at the Flower Goddess Temple. He must have drawn a very auspicious lot, right? Yes, it was a very auspicious lot, he told her that himself.

But she couldn't tell him what she wanted to say, and she never will.

The man who saved her was still playing the sanxian, casually singing: "The jade palace is clean and dust-free, the precious moon is as round as a mirror. The wind stirs the green sleeves, and flowers fall in the quiet courtyard."

The entire snowy night was shrouded in a layer of white mist, covered by his singing, creating a tranquil, leisurely, and languid atmosphere.

Yi Chun, her face covered with a handkerchief, said in a muffled voice, "Shu Jun, how come it was you who saved me?"

He gave a lazy "hmm," stopped playing the sanxian, tilted his head and thought for a long time before finally saying indifferently, "Probably... because I kind of like you."

Her answer came unexpectedly quickly: "But I don't like you."

Shu Jun walked over and lifted the handkerchief, his expression a mix of a smile and annoyance: "You rejected me so directly."

As he spoke, he simply sat down next to her, raised his hand and gently patted her face twice, gazing at the distant white snow, and said, "I'll make you fall in love with me eventually."

But Yichun didn't want to hear any of this. She struggled to sit up on the boat and immediately saw Yang Shen lying in the cabin.

He had been tidied up; the vertical slit on his shoulder was neatly sealed, and he was dressed in clean new clothes. His hair was smooth and soft, all tied back, revealing his forehead.

He seemed to be asleep, but a gentle nudge would wake him up, and he angrily scolded her for disturbing his peaceful sleep.

Yichun rushed over and hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek against his, as if she had so much to say to him, but couldn't bring herself to say it.