So, ever since I first entered the valley and saw Lou Xiyue gracefully unfold that peach blossom fan, I haven't had the chance to admire that beautifully blooming peach blossom again. In recent days, Lou Xiyue hasn't "smiled at the peach blossoms while waving her fan," and the peach blossom fan itself has fallen to the ground several times. I'm genuinely worried: I hope such a graceful fan won't break.
"Master, Xiyue will go out of the valley to buy some chickens and ducks. Please wait a moment."
I said with satisfaction, "Okay, go and come back quickly." Finally, watching Lou Xiyue's back, I added, "Xiyue, yesterday's food was a little bland. Add more salt today."
As I turned around, I seemed to hear the sound of the fan falling to the ground again.
Back in the house, I calculated that Master had been gone for forty-nine days since he left the valley, the longest he had ever been away. In the past, it was always others who came to visit; Master rarely left the valley, and even when he did, he would return home after only a few days. But this time, he had been gone for so many days without a word. I couldn't help but worry, so I picked up my pen and wrote a very long letter, the gist of which was:
During my master's absence, I studied diligently day and night, copying medical books with great care and diligence, and clearing all the weeds from the valley. Furthermore, by solving a difficult case, I enhanced the reputation of Medicine King Valley once again. In the future, I will continue my efforts to make Medicine King Valley flourish. When my master returns, I will surely see a well-ordered and prosperous Medicine King Valley. Previously, my master entrusted me with the task of cleaning the medicine pool, which I initially thought I couldn't complete. However, I now realize that "nothing is impossible to a willing mind." Please rest assured, Master, I will definitely clean the medicine pool thoroughly. Zhou San Gong is doing well, and so am I. I wonder when my master will return?
Except for the last sentence, everything else was Lou Xiyue's work.
But what I really wanted to write was only the last sentence.
After finishing the letter, I folded it carefully. My heart pounded with excitement, and after a moment's thought, I slipped a bamboo leaf inside. I went outside and placed the letter in Dafeng's mouth; Dafeng was a white-shouldered eagle that my master kept. I hadn't initially categorized Dafeng as one of the animals in the valley because Dafeng was so intelligent; he understood everything with a single glance or gesture. I thought Dafeng might be a person, or perhaps a hybrid of human and animal; in any case, in my heart, he and I were of the same kind.
Our Medicine King Valley has always been full of heroic spirit. Others send carrier pigeons, but our Great Wind is nearly a hundred times larger than a carrier pigeon.
Thinking of this, I proudly patted the wind. I saw it flap its wings, then let out a roar and soar into the sky, circling in mid-air for a moment before rising straight up into the clouds.
Night falls, and the stars shine brightly.
I suddenly regretted it. This was the first time I had written a letter to my master. Perhaps he would keep it and look at it occasionally in the future. Actually, I should have been more straightforward so that it would have some value. The last sentence should have been: Master, I miss you so much.
Text [02] Fireworks Intoxication
As dawn broke and the sun began to rise, the distant eastern horizon quietly revealed a hazy glow, painting a corner of the sky crimson with the rosy light of sunrise. (89 Literature Network)
I put on a long-necked robe, loosely tied my hair, and, facing the bronze mirror, pressed that layer of male skin onto my face. Then I slowly strolled off to find the Three Dukes. Last night, I had a dream, a dream of a traditional Chinese ink painting. A young man in brocade robes stood gracefully by the riverbank. The wind was howling, the waves were surging. In March in Jiangnan, the grass was growing and the birds were flying. The azaleas were blooming red, like beautiful fireworks blooming in the deep night.
He smiled at me and said in a gentle, melodious voice, "Xiao Xiang, come here."
Suddenly, a towering wave rose behind him, its momentum like a soaring dragon, surging forward. The sky darkened, thunder and lightning raged, and when he looked again, the young master was gone.
The difference between a sweet dream and a nightmare is just a matter of a single thought.
I awoke with a start from my dream, pondered it carefully, and although I couldn't quite recall the young man's appearance, a dull ache lingered in my heart. In the past three years, I've only seen two men every day: my master and the Third Duke. Therefore, based on my principle of thinking about him day and night, the protagonist of my dream must be either my master or the Third Duke in his youth.
He strolled to the front of the mansion of the Three Dukes, and sat upright in the courtyard. Before him stood a phoenix flower, blooming beautifully. He gently touched the petals, the stem and leaves, and even the sand on the leaves, lost in thought. The Buddha said: "One flower, one world; one blade of grass, one paradise; one leaf, one Buddha; one grain of sand, one Pure Land." The Three Dukes were contemplating the fleeting fortunes and misfortunes of all living beings.
I sat down next to the Third Master and asked him, "Third Master, have you appeared in my dreams recently?"
The three officials smiled and shook their heads.
I'm relieved; I really did dream about my master last night. I told him about the dream in general, "Could you interpret it for me? Is it a good omen or a bad omen?"
People often say that "Duke Zhou interprets dreams," and I have always believed, deep down, that Duke Zhou and Duke Zhou must have had some kind of secret relationship.
The three men remained silent for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Just as I was about to fall asleep, he spoke, "So heart-wrenching, so heart-wrenching." I glanced at him, hummed in response, and then, basking in the sunlight, went back to sleep.
Long, long ago, I had a similar dream. I was probably only thirteen or fourteen years old then, a little girl. In the dream, a young man vaguely appeared, cradling the back of my head and gently feeding me a bowl of medicine with a blue-and-white porcelain spoon. Before that, I was always extremely cold; no matter how many quilts I wrapped myself in, I couldn't escape the chill that seeped into my heart from all directions. But as the medicine flowed down my throat, it felt as if a warm current was flowing into my heart.
When I was little, I had a younger sister named Qi Xiao. Qi Xiao would always hug me tightly and say, "Sister, Xiao Xiao is here with you. If you're still cold, I'll go gather some branches to start a fire." We relied on each other like that, wandering the streets and alleys of Jiangnan. Occasionally, I'd steal a purse and buy Xiao Xiao some sugar figurines. When we were starving and destitute, Qi Xiao would climb over walls to steal fruit from wealthy families, and then we'd rob the rich to help the poor, dividing the loot on the spot.
At that time, the opera troupe was performing a short play, "Farewell My Concubine." Qi Xiao and I sat astride the courtyard wall, watching the cast of actors with red and white faces on the stage from above.
I clutched my chest and said to Qi Xiao with a poignant and tragic air, "Yu Ji, Yu Ji~~ How can I live without you?!"
Qi Xiao laughed heartily, feigning shyness, "My lord, I only wish your heart were like mine. We are not destined to be together in this life, but we shall meet again in the next~~"
I was battered and bruised, a living hell. "Oh~~ Since Yu Meiren is dead, I, the king, also do not wish to live. My son, take me away!" With that, I sang, then violently flicked my sleeve, my passion overflowing. I felt something flash before my eyes, but when I touched my sleeve, it was empty. A thunderous roar echoed through the courtyard, "Who?! Who threw the egg?!"
I quickly grabbed Qi Xiao and ran all the way, the willow branches by the river swaying and the white clouds in the sky drifting by.
But one day, when I woke up, the thatched hut was damp and cold, and Qi Xiao was nowhere to be seen. I walked barefoot through every brick alley in the city, craning my neck in front of the doors of wealthy houses adorned with large red lanterns, hoping and hoping. But I never saw her again. Night fell, and the chill pierced my limbs like needles, like a million moths gnawing at my heart and lungs. I curled up in the dark hut, hugging my knees, with no Qi Xiao to light a fire for me to warm me; I was all alone in the vast, desolate world.
On a dark and windy night, I drifted into a dream. When I awoke, I heard crackling sounds of fire beside me. I opened my eyes and vaguely saw a figure holding a branch, poking at the fire.
I opened my mouth and called out, "Xiao Xiao..."
The man turned his head; he was only wearing a white undergarment, the firelight casting flickering shadows on his pale skin. He looked down at me, his eyes like deep pools. "Are you feeling better?"
I opened my eyes and realized my outer robe had slipped off, revealing a deep purple brocade robe inlaid with gold. I stared at him for about half an incense stick's time, then he pursed his lips, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Am I handsome?"
I nodded sincerely, "It's really beautiful."
He smiled as he put on his outer robe, which perfectly complemented his natural bearing. He fastened a wide silver belt inlaid with jade around his waist, then began to walk away.
I panicked and grabbed him, asking, "Who are you, sir? What's your name?"
"My name is An Chen. I'm not a god, but I cured you when you were sick."
I grabbed the hem of his robe. "Brother, you're like family to me. Can you take me with you?"
He patted my head. "No."
I rolled around on the ground, saying, "I'm still sick, my whole body aches. My heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and other organs are aching endlessly."
He laughed and said, "I can't take you with me. I'm not from Yangzhou. I'm just passing through."
I sobbed through my tears, "A drop of kindness deserves a spring of gratitude. Brother, I can climb trees, scale walls, farm, and harvest vegetables. Could you please take me in?"
He chuckled softly, his laughter as melodious as silk and bamboo instruments.
An Chen turned her head to look at me and asked, "Whose girl are you?"
I got nervous. The thought of telling him my name made my heart clench inexplicably. "My name is Qi Xiang, the fragrance of banana. The Monkey King is my ancestor."