Perplexed, Xinxin dropped the basket and ran into the house. Liu Yan followed her. On the floor, curled up and breathing heavily, lay a man in a white robe. His black hair had come loose from its braid and the high-quality hair crown. The man's name was Jia Fu. When Xinxin turned him over, he was covered in bleeding wounds.
"Oh my goodness, what happened to you?" she asked worriedly, placing a hand on the man's cheek. He tried to open his eyes, but kept falling back into unconsciousness. Xinxin hoisted him onto the bed and undressed him. His wounds were of varying depths and lengths, but none of them would kill a cultist like him. Only his exhaustion was cause for concern. In order for his wounds to heal, the energy in his meridians had to be able to flow unimpeded. She washed his body, treated the wounds with medicinal herbs, and bandaged them carefully. Nevertheless, it took almost a week before he opened his eyes.
"Where am I?" he asked as he sat up, groaning in pain.
"With me," Xinxin replied defiantly. The man blinked a few times before he could see Xinxin's outline more clearly.
"How did I get here?" he asked.
Xinxin raised an eyebrow and pointed upward. When Jia Fu followed her gaze, he saw a makeshift roof above him.
"I'll replace that," he apologized, unable to move.
"I hope so," Xinxin sighed and flicked his forehead with her finger. "Stop what you're doing, it's pointless and not good for you. I've sealed your body with acupuncture.
Among other things, the ligaments in your body serve to stabilize your injured meridians. Forcing yourself to break free will only hurt you more," she scolded him.
"Did you save me?" Jia Fu asked. She nodded. "Why?" he pressed. Xinxin frowned.
"Is that the kind of question you ask?" she asked.
"No? What should I ask then?" he asked back. She shrugged. "Who are you, what's your name, where did you get your healing abilities, why the hell are you so insanely smart and pretty? For example," she teased, setting a bowl of broth next to him. The smell of herbs wafted into his nose, bitter and spicy.
Jia Fu slid back onto the bed.
"Who are you?" he finally asked.
"My name is Luo Xinxin," she replied as she checked the bandages.
"Where did you learn your healing arts?" Xinxin loosened the acupuncture a little and helped him sit up properly so he could drink the medicinal herb broth.
"A scholar and healer raised me, but he passed away a few months ago. I learned everything I need to know from him." Jia Fu drank the bowl and grimaced.
"That's bitter. Did you learn acupuncture from him too?" he asked. Xinxin nodded. She crouched down in front of him, put her head in her hands, and looked at him expectantly.
"Is there anything else you want to know?" she asked with a grin. Jia Fu laughed, holding his aching chest.
"I'm sorry, miss. Of course, why else, since I'm so incredibly pretty and smart?" he asked curiously. Xinxin grinned.
"A blessing from the gods," she announced. Jia Fu laughed, even though he was pale and in pain. Xinxin stood up and helped him back into bed.
"What happened to you?" she asked in return. Jia Fu closed his eyes.
"A battle, on the divine summit. I wasn't paying attention," he said quietly.
"On the divine summit? Don't the immortals live there?" Xinxin asked, her eyes widening. Jia Fu nodded.
"So you're an immortal?" she marveled.
"I will repay you for your help, Xinxin," he said hoarsely. Xinxin covered him and brushed a strand of black hair from his face.
"There's no rush. Your injuries are serious, you need time to recover, and you can't leave the mountain during winter," she replied. And so the days passed. Xinxin picked medicinal herbs and traded goods for rice and dried meat to get them through the winter, while Jia Fu was confined to bed most of the time.
Late summer gave way to autumn, and Xinxin helped the immortal take a few steps.
Tian Liu Yan sat at the table in the courtyard, cracking walnuts with his bare hands as he watched them. While he was in the soul space, he could not and was not allowed to interact with him. Even though he was apparently as real as she was, these were only memories. He felt sick at the thought of how much Xinxin had once liked Jia Fu. He took another walnut. No matter how many he crushed into dust, they did not diminish, because in Xinxin's memory of that day, there were exactly twelve walnuts, no more and no less.
When the first snowflakes fell and covered the world in a soft white blanket, Xinxin danced in the courtyard. Jia Fu laughed as he guided her and held a paper umbrella over her so her hair wouldn't get too wet. They sat awake for hours in the evening, and Jia Fu taught Xinxin calligraphy and the value of talismans. He taught her to breathe in order to expand her meridians. To meditate to become stronger. He stood very close behind Xinxin and guided her hands in a gentle finger spell, his breath brushing her ear.
"Have you ever thought about leaving here?" he asked as golden sparks slowly rose in the air in front of Xinxin and formed a magic circle. Xinxin shook her head.
"I thought it was too dangerous to wander the world alone. But I would like to see it," she replied. A slight blush had settled on her cheek, which was not caused by the cold. Although the first buds were already peeking out from under the morning frost, winter still had a firm grip on the mountain.
"If you come with me, you won't be alone," Ia Fu said gently. His hands wrapped around Xinxin and the golden circle disappeared. They stood there like that for a while.
"Let me show you the world, as a thank you for saving me," he suggested.
Xinxin looked back at the house. She wanted so much to see the world, but she was also afraid of the vast, infinite expanse.
Spring had arrived, and Xinxin was sitting in the small pavilion in the courtyard practicing calligraphy when Jia Fu came out of the house. For a while, he checked on the medicinal plants that were already beginning to bloom. His injuries had completely healed and the flow of his meridians was no longer damaged. Xinxin put down her brush and watched him practice his fighting style with flowing, graceful movements. His wide, white robe seemed to flow over his body like liquid light, his steps and strikes were precise, and the sword energy he summoned was pure white light.
"The Spring Festival is approaching, Xinxin, let's visit it together, and then we'll decide when to leave," he suggested, sitting down next to her. Although there was mutual harmony between the two, Jia Fu never touched Xinxin more than necessary and only as gently as a butterfly's wing, so softly and briefly. Xinxin accepted this; after all, immortals did not sully themselves with earthly things. She smiled blissfully at him, so naive. Liu Yan, leaning against a post of the pavilion, sucked in his breath sharply. This Xinxin here was playful, naive, and gullible.
She was completely different from the disillusioned, shattered Xinxin he had met. However, her eyes lacked fire, the will to fight. The triumph of having overcome victory. Liu Yan wanted to lock her away, this fragile, gentle version of her. Prevent all the horror that was yet to come from befalling her.
But he couldn't. He couldn't change the past. The scene blurred and gave way to clay soil covered with straw. The air was cold, but the snow had melted. People laughed and children ran around excitedly. The village was not large. The Spring Festival was more like a colorful event and a gathering.
"In the cities, you can buy sugar animals and candied hawthorn fruit. You can consult fortune tellers and play games, and the highlight is the lanterns that are sent up into the sky with all your wishes," Jia Fu said as they cut across the only road the village had to offer. Xinxin listened with wide eyes. "I occasionally visited the big cities with my foster father when his healing skills were in demand," she said. "But never at such a time. Still, the streets were colorfully decorated at all times, and the smell of delicious food was everywhere, and all the men and women touting their wares were shouting in unison."
"Different festivals are celebrated in every city and province. In the capitals, it is not uncommon for the birthdays of nobles to be celebrated so grandly that the whole city takes part. The sects have different ceremonies and rituals, and there is something new to discover everywhere," Jia Fu made no secret of his intention to make Xinxin hungry for the world outside. He couldn't stay with her; as an immortal, it was his duty to do good out in the world. All he could do was ask Xinxin to come with him. Liu Yan walked behind them with her arms crossed. All Xinxin ever wanted was a place, a home. To help people with medicine. It was Ji Fu who awakened great ambitions in her.
"Let's leave the peach grove behind," he said gently, taking Xinxin's hands in his. Xinxin nodded. She was ready to go with him, to see the wide world. Jia Fu sighed with relief.
"The world is peaceful thanks to the curse shackle in the Tian Empire, which binds the corrupted qi," he explained and continued walking.
"My teacher said that the curse shackle must suffer pain and humiliation for this. The more pain it experiences, the more corrupted qi it can purify," Xinxin remarked. Jia Fu nodded.
"That's right, but even though she was born with a human face, you mustn't be fooled by it. She is and remains a tool," Ji Fu warned. Xinxin frowned but did not disagree.
"Don't worry about it, as long as I'm with you, no one, not even the curse shackle, will be able to harm you," Jia Fu reassured her.
The smile returned to Xinxin's face. Together they strolled back to the Huas.
"When we leave this place, I will teach you something that will be very useful," said Jia Fu, sitting down opposite Xinxin at the low table. Xinxin watched intently as he summoned a small, glowing beetle and whispered something to it. Then he let the beetle fly to Xinxin, a flickering light blue light. Xinxin raised her hand, the beetle dissolved, and a message appeared.
"The moon is beautiful, but I found something more beautiful than the moon." Xinxin smiled shyly. She tried it too, and after a few attempts, she managed to create a messenger beetle. When it landed on Jia Fu's palm, white-blue writing flashed up.
"Never tell the moon that something is more beautiful than it is!"