Li Chaoyang didn’t pursue them.
In fact, whoever might pursue, whoever might obstruct—he no longer cared at all.
Across the cliff was Changgeng Pass, just over a dozen zhang away. He leaped across lightly. When he jumped, perhaps too suddenly, or perhaps Xin Mei finally reacted, she let out an “ah” and the food box fell from her hands. She immediately wailed: “Ah! My tofu…”
His long whip silently lashed out, firmly coiling around the food box. With a pull, it landed steadily in his hand, which he then silently returned to her.
Xin Mei was stunned for a moment, then looked up at Lu Qianqiao. His brows were slightly furrowed, carrying a hint of anticipation and some hesitation. He didn’t speak, still gazing at her quietly.
Would she cry? Or would she continue to rush into his arms and hold him tight?
Xin Mei studied him steadily, then slowly revealed a smile, gently taking his hand and saying: “Come on, let’s go eat.”
In the main tent, a warm fire was burning with no lamps lit, making the light somewhat dim. She opened the food box and tested it with her hand—good, good, it still had some warmth. The tofu and other vegetarian dishes could be eaten like this, but the fish soup and meat dishes needed to be reheated.
She glanced at the fire pile where a crude small iron pot was set up, half full of bubbling water. The moist, warm steam made the dry tent feel more comfortable.
She poured out the water from the pot and put the fish soup in to reheat. Then she found two thoroughly burned charcoal pieces from the fire to place at the bottom of the food box. Soon, the aroma of food and dishes filled the tent.
Wherever she went, Lu Qianqiao silently followed, like a soundless tail.
Perhaps from being blown by cold wind at the cliff for too long, now warmed by the tent’s heat, Xin Mei had just finished reheating the food when she couldn’t help but sneeze several times.
The tail behind her finally came to the front, placing a hand on her forehead.
“…You caught cold, come here.”
Lu Qianqiao brought scalding hot water and helped her remove her shoes, soaking her ice-cold feet in the hot water. In military camps, when soldiers caught cold, they mostly used this folk remedy to drive away the chill. If symptoms were severe, they would also throw a few pieces of ginger into the water.
“…They’re frozen blue.” He held her snow-white, soft feet, frowning.
Her toenails showed a blue-purple color, feeling like ice blocks to the touch. Looking up at the thin light yellow silk dress she wore, he frowned again.
“Wearing too little.”
…What a completely unromantic assessment.
Xin Mei pouted: “This is a newly made dress—is that your only comment?”
Lu Qianqiao looked up again, pinched the hem of her dress, and continued frowning: “The fabric is too thin, you shouldn’t wear this in winter.”
“Can you say anything else besides that?”
He finally looked her over carefully and seriously, only then realizing this new dress was very beautiful. The slender sash hung by the bed with two small silver bells attached, and gorgeous peonies were embroidered on the hem. Though she wore no cosmetics, she was naturally beautiful with fair skin, and this dress made her look extremely attractive.
He moved his lips, wanting to say something, but struggled to speak, his ears gradually reddening as he lowered his head to gently pour hot water over her feet.
A cold hand touched his burning ear, followed by several bean-sized teardrops falling.
Lu Qianqiao looked up in surprise, discovering she was touching his ear while tears fell one by one.
“…What’s wrong?” He was somewhat panicked, placing her feet in the basin at a loss, hastily wiping his hands and pulling her shoulders into an embrace. After thinking for a long time, he stammered: “The dress… the dress is very nice, very beautiful…”
She was probably crying because she didn’t get compliments, he thought.
Instead, she burst into loud sobs with a “wah,” crying even harder, burying her head in his chest and hugging him tightly, saying nothing but weeping.
He pressed the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, gently stroking. After a while, he heard her muffled, choked voice: “Your ears… your ears still turn red… still the same as before… haven’t changed, thank goodness…”
Finally, she could cry freely.
He wiped away the messy tears on her face with his fingers and lowered his head to kiss her forehead.
Missing her scent, as if separated by thousands of autumns, he couldn’t help himself. His kisses fell on her nose bridge, on her wet eyelids.
Strange yet familiar feelings, as if touching her for the first time in his life, vague impulses, irrepressible.
Her moist eyelashes lifted, then fell like butterfly wings. Lu Qianqiao’s arms suddenly tightened, his burning lips pressing heavily on her cool ones.
Entangling, rubbing… he couldn’t kiss her as gently and clumsily as before. He bit and sucked, his tongue tip nearly fierce as it intertwined with hers.
Xin Mei seemed startled, shrinking back in surprise. He pressed forward, his slender fingers deeply sliding into her clothes, the sashes breaking one by one with his somewhat rough movements.
She called out hazily: “Don’t tear it! I… only brought… this one!”
If he tore it, she’d have no clothes to wear!
A hoarse, low sound came from his throat—sorry… he couldn’t help it. Scalding kisses spread down from her open collar. His hand slid down, neatly tearing that beautiful sash. The silver bells chimed twice before falling to the ground. That hand also explored downward from her waist, appearing urgent yet clumsy.
“Wait…” Xin Mei stiffly opened her eyes, suddenly gripping his shoulder, breathing heavily. “…My feet… I’m still soaking my feet…”
With a hook of his leg, both her feet were on the bed, and her lower skirt fluttered down.
This time she seemed to have no possibility of overpowering him. She, she hadn’t mastered the lotus position yet, and moreover… she was so hungry, had no strength at all… the food was heated… might need reheating again later…
Her thoughts wandered until he suddenly touched somewhere, her whole body trembling as all the chaotic thoughts in her mind instantly flew away.
His teasing fingers were initially awkward, then gradually became skilled. His forehead pressed against hers, their moist, burning breaths intertwining. She was completely ready… enough, he could wait no longer, or the next moment would be death.
Perhaps because she was cold, hungry, and tired, or perhaps because he wasn’t gentle enough, when he entered, she made a somewhat uncomfortable soft moan, her fingers immediately gripping his arm tightly, murmuring in near delirium: “Slow… slower…”
He couldn’t slow down… he was nearly drowning. Unspeakable words, things left unsaid… whether vows or sweet words, he had given her none, only his body was real, able to let her understand what was hidden in his heart.
He had always been so clumsy and stubborn, never giving her sweetness before leaving again and again.
Why pursue him?
Why wait for him?