The Third Master glanced at me, tremblingly poured himself a cup of tea, and slowly said, "People can't stay in this valley."
I said, "I will come to see you on a suitable day in the future."
The Third Duke glanced at me again and snorted, "Fate is cruel, fate is cruel."
I took the tea from the Third Master, took a sip, and asked, "I brought a group of people with me this time. There are probably twenty or thirty visible ones, and countless others that cannot be seen. Can our Medicine King Valley properly accommodate them?"
The Third Master grunted in response, then added, "There's not enough room in the house."
I lowered my eyes and pondered for a long time, then... I'll sleep on the floor.
After sitting for about half an hour, I went to my master's room.
As I pushed open the door, my master added some firewood to the medicine stove, and the flames licked the bottom of the pot again and again.
I asked, "Master, are you feeling better after taking the medicine?"
My master turned around and said to me, “I have prepared a prescription for you. Your body is different from others. You were previously poisoned by cold and then took a strong yang substance to suppress it, so your pulse is extremely erratic.”
He looked at me and said gently, "Xiao Xiang, this medicine contains purple-stemmed grass. After you take the medicine, you must calm your mind and avoid getting lost in dreams."
I asked in confusion, "Master, when you saved me in Yangzhou, didn't you use purple-stemmed grass?"
The master was slightly taken aback, then shook his head and said, "No, the cold poison in your body had already been suppressed at that time. Perhaps someone gave you medicine to suppress the cold poison's flare-up. However, the medicine you took was extremely potent, and it would be difficult for someone who is not a martial artist to suppress it without internal energy. When I met you, you still had a fever."
I was shocked. "Someone else was administering the medicine to me?" I raised my hand to my forehead, and a thought gradually gathered in my mind, cutting into my heart like a knife.
The master said in a deep voice, "This illness should not be delayed. I will prepare the medicine tomorrow, and you can take it."
My mind was foggy, and I mumbled a reply before walking outside.
The valley is filled with blooming flowers, their fragrance delicate and sweet.
I sat in the bamboo grove with a wine jug, the moonlight half-hidden by the countless bamboo leaves.
In the brief moment of clarity, I recalled that dream: the young gentleman, holding a blue-and-white porcelain spoon, guiding the back of my head to administer medicine to me—it was Lou Xiyue.
What exactly is this old story?
Didn't he and Qi Xiao become acquainted and express their feelings for each other at that time?
He asked me several times if I remembered him. Did he mistake me for Qi Xiao?
My head was throbbing. I got up and took a few steps. I heard a rustling sound coming from the bamboo forest.
I struggled to lift my eyelids and saw that a strong wind had fallen beside me.
He lowered his head and pecked at my shoulder with his beak, which hurt quite a bit.
I brushed him away and whispered, "Stop it, it hurts."
A small note was brushed to the ground. I picked it up and found a line written on it: "A girl said that if she couldn't cure my third uncle, she would take my surname, Lou. I wonder if this statement still stands?"
The letter paper was yellowed, indicating it was a letter from long ago, only now being delivered by strong winds.
It's so late, so very late.
I cried out to Dafeng, "I either ascend the throne or die of illness. How can that be considered? How can it even be considered?"
He took a couple of swigs of wine and said, "Even if it counts, what good will it do? The person is gone."
Holding the wine jug, he leaned against a bamboo stalk and had a good, hearty cry.
There was once someone who laughed and cried with me. Years have passed, and clothes have thinned.
I sleep on a painted boat, listening to the rain; I ride a horse, sword in hand, laughing at the mortal world.
Now, we are worlds apart and have forgotten each other.
I slammed the wine jug onto the bamboo with a loud "crack," and pointed at Da Feng, saying, "Qi Xiang, you're such a bastard, a real bastard."
Then, everything went dark, and I fell asleep on the ground.
When I woke up the next day, I was lying on my bed, feeling very dizzy.
I vaguely heard Zhuo Shang say to me, "Your Highness, I sent people to inquire about the whereabouts of Young Master Lou. I heard that he is in the capital enjoying flowers and composing poems. Even if we bring him here now, I'm afraid it will be too late for him to meet with Your Highness in private."
The door creaked open, and there were soft, rustling sounds coming from inside.
Zhuo Shang asked his master, "Young Master Xia, are you confident that you can cure His Highness?"
Master was silent for a moment, then walked to the bedside, gently helped me up, held the medicine bowl to my lips, and whispered, "Xiao Xiang, take the medicine."
I looked up at Zhuo Shang and said, "A secret meeting my foot."
He turned to his master with a forced smile, "Master, if I don't wake up, you must starve Dafeng for three days. He's never on time when he delivers messages, and I've put up with him for a long time."
The master's eyes narrowed, and he paused, holding the medicine bowl.
I lowered my head and said again, "If in the future, if there is such a day, Lou Xiyue happens to pass by Medicine King Valley, and if he asks, just say that I became the Empress in the Eastern Land, cultivating myself, managing my family, governing the country, and bringing peace to the world."
He spoke with great sadness, almost like someone giving their last words before death. I reflected in my mind and realized that I should thank heaven, earth, and the heavens, my parents who gave me life and then passed away, the wind that never had the courage to face itself, my third uncle who was old in body and mind but had a beautiful wife, my master, my compatriots in the motherland whose money I stole when I was young, and Lou Xiyue.
If I keep summarizing like this, even someone as sentimental and artistic as me will make myself cry.
I took the medicine bowl from my master, tilted my head back, and drank it down.
My master pressed his fingertip against my Baihui acupoint and said in a deep voice, "Calm your mind. Whatever you see is just a dream."
In my daze, I forced a smile and said to my master, "I'd rather this was just a dream, a dream that will all come to nothing when I wake up."
Close your eyes, and you'll see dazzling fireworks, enveloping the twilight clouds like brocade.
Flowers bloom and fade, birds fly in the morning and swoop away at dusk, as if I have returned to Yangzhou.
A winding bluestone path leads deep into the wine alley, with fallen sycamore leaves along the way, and a banana branch peeking out from an ordinary house.
The morning rain wets the streets, and fine drops fall from the eaves.
At the alley entrance, there was a young man dressed in a lake-green brocade robe, holding a bamboo-ribbed silk peach blossom fan in his hand. He smiled at me and said, "Miss, it's still early. Why don't we have a few drinks together?"
I went into a restaurant with him, found a table by the window, ordered a pot of fine wine and a few side dishes.
Lou Xiyue raised her glass and laughed at me, "You can't renege on the bet you made at Muxue Manor back then."
I tilted my head back and downed the wine in my glass, saying heartily, "It's just setting up a fortune-telling stall, isn't it? Your master never goes back on his word. After this meal, I'll serve up my writing implements and start listing my business."
Outside the window, under the eaves, sat a young man in a moon-white brocade robe. He had set up a chessboard, and tea set was laid out on the table. He was drinking tea and gently tapping the chessboard with a chess piece in his hand.
His hair was slightly tossed, and he had a smile on his lips, looking extremely content.
The old man across from me slapped his forehead and yelled, "Ah—I lost! Let's go again!"
The young man in white took a sip of tea and smiled, "Third Master, Third Mistress was calling you from inside the room just now. Let's go down later."
Inside the restaurant, someone was playing a pipa and singing a little tune. The young man in white looked up at the sound and our eyes met.
His eyes were gentle, as if I had seen him somewhere before.
Lou Xiyue tilted his head to look at me, a smile playing on his lips, and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Which young master are you thinking about?"
I rested my hand on my forehead and pointed to a pavilion near the Half-Life Bridge. "I think that place has good feng shui, so I'll set up a stall there."
Lou Xiyue poured a full glass of wine, raised it to her lips, and said, "The ten-mile-long pavilion does have a story behind it."
I picked up a gold-colored jade cake and asked, "Tell me about it?"
One autumn night, during a rainy night, a young woman met a scholar seeking shelter from the rain in a pavilion. They sat in the pavilion watching the sunrise and chatted happily. The next day, the scholar had to set off for the imperial examinations. The young woman was reluctant to part with him and accompanied him for ten miles. The scholar told her that after he passed the examinations, they would meet again at the pavilion. Every day, the young woman would stop at the pavilion, watching the boats drift beneath the Half-Life Bridge, and the fallen leaves float on the flowing water.
A scholar, having failed the imperial examination, wished to return home to study diligently. Passing by a long pavilion, he paused, wanting to approach the girl and pour out his heart.
Seeing her slightly furrow her brows, she said to the wealthy young man beside her: "My beloved will come here to marry me after she passes the imperial examination."
The scholar stood by the Half-Life Bridge and glanced at her from afar; the girl's expression was very stubborn.
Three years later, the scholar achieved the highest rank in the imperial examination and returned home in glory on a white horse. But after passing the ten-mile pavilion, the girl was long gone.
The third-ranking scholar rode his horse for ten miles, glanced back at the pavilion one last time, and then disappeared into the vast twilight.
I sighed, "I think of you every day, but you know nothing of my longing; we drink from the same Yangtze River. My longing for you is endless, and the pain of longing is unbearable."
Lou Xiyue tapped my forehead with her folding fan and laughed, "The Jade Luo Clan recently opened a money exchange and a security escort agency in the capital. I'm going to take care of them. Would you like to come with me?"
I looked at him expectantly and said, "I have long heard that there are nine-tailed silver foxes in Wuli County, north of the capital. The blood of the nine-tailed fox is an excellent medicinal ingredient. I have traveled all over the country and am famous in the martial arts world. I must find a valuable treasure to protect myself."
Lou Xiyue, fanning herself, smiled and nodded, saying, "I've also heard that the snow in the northern frontier is pristine and shimmering, a truly magnificent sight. Let's get two fur coats and ride over to take a look."
Yangzhou is shrouded in mist and rain, with two or three flowers in bloom.
Warm a cup of wine before the flowers, raise your glass and laugh. Time flies by in the blink of an eye, let's not rush things.
Life in dreams is enough to break one's heart.
Postscript (Part 1)
Early winter of the thirty-sixth year of Chongyuan.
The road was covered with a thick layer of snow and sand, and Medicine King Valley was a silver-white wonderland.
Amidst the swirling white mist, a few red plum blossoms adorn the stone walls of the courtyard, and frost hangs from the eaves.
A girl, about seventeen or eighteen years old, stood outside the house. She was wearing a blue cotton shirt, a felt hat, and carrying a bundle on her back. Her fair face was flushed by the wind.