The night passed slowly.
The sea breeze poured in from the window, causing the flame of the oil lamp to flicker and sway, casting restless shadows across the wall.
From next door, the sound of breathing drifted through the thin wall, steady and long.
Bai Qingxue kept her eyes closed, her fingertips resting against the body of the Frost Moon Chant. Her spiritual power circulated through her meridians cycle after cycle, like undercurrents slowly surging beneath the deep sea at night.
By the time the lamp oil burned out, dawn had not yet broken.
The last ember of red light shrank and faded, leaving only the faint light seeping through the window cracks to illuminate the quiet room.
Outside, the sky was transitioning from ink-black to a slate gray.
The first actual ray of sunlight sliced at an angle through a gap in the clouds, landing on Bai Qingxue's lap and tinting the Frost Moon Chant with a faint golden hue.
Day had broken.
Bai Qingxue sat on the bed for a while, listening to the cries of seabirds outside and the faint, rustling sounds of people starting to move about, wash up, and converse in low voices in the distance.
The sunlight shifted from slate gray to grayish-white, and then to the soft brightness of an afternoon filtered through thin clouds.
Layer upon layer of clouds rolled over the sea, muting the midday sun into a gentle, lukewarm glow.
Bai Qingxue remained sitting cross-legged on the bed, occasionally regulating her breathing as she circulated her spiritual power.
A set of footsteps sounded.
The steps were very light, slowly approaching from the far end of the corridor before stopping not far outside the quiet room.
Then they began to pace back and forth.
A few steps forward, a pause, a few steps back, and another pause.
This was repeated several times, carrying an obvious hesitation.
Bai Qingxue waited on the bed for a while. Seeing that the pacing showed no signs of stopping and there was no attempt to knock, she finally spoke. Her voice carried through the door, cool and steady. “Come in.”
The footsteps outside abruptly stopped.
After a brief silence, the door was gently pushed open a crack. Half of Lu Xueqing’s face appeared behind it, looking slightly surprised and hesitant.
She held a small white porcelain bowl, from which a mist of white steam rose. Her finger pads were pressed against the sides, as if she had been warming it with her palms ever since she brought it out.
“Junior Sister Bai... I heard you regulating your breathing and didn't want to disturb you,” Lu Xueqing said softly. Her gaze lingered on Bai Qingxue's face, and only after confirming she had finished did she push the door open wider.
“Come in,” Bai Qingxue repeated.
Lu Xueqing walked in with the tea, her steps still somewhat hesitant, and stopped by the bedside.
She looked down at the steam rising from the bowl. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and swallowed the words back down.
Bai Qingxue looked up at her profile and asked again, “What is it?”
Lu Xueqing pursed her lips, finally raising her eyes to meet Bai Qingxue's gaze.
That single look held quite a lot. The sourness and restraint she had suppressed in her heart throughout the night flickered through her eyes before being completely pushed down, leaving only a faint curve at the corners of her mouth.
“It's nothing,” Lu Xueqing said, handing over the porcelain bowl. “I just brought you some tea. It's warm spirit tea, which is good for recovering your spiritual power. I'll leave after you finish drinking.”
Bai Qingxue took the bowl. The warmth of the porcelain seeped through her fingertips, traveling up her fingers and warming her wrist.
She looked down at the clear tea infusion and began to take small sips.
Standing by the bed, Lu Xueqing watched her drink. With her hands now free, she rested them against her knees, her fingertips lightly tapping the fabric of her robe.
Lu Xueqing's gaze fell upon Bai Qingxue's loose silver hair.
A strand of silver-white hair had slid off her shoulder, hanging near the rim of the bowl and swaying slightly in the rising steam of the tea.
Lu Xueqing's tapping fingers stilled.
“Is it good?” Lu Xueqing asked, her voice softening. As she spoke, she reached out without hesitation and gently pinched the strand of silver hair.
Her finger pad smoothed down the hair from the middle to the ends, tucking it behind Bai Qingxue's ear.
When her fingertips brushed the edge of Bai Qingxue's auricle, Lu Xueqing did not immediately withdraw her hand. Instead, she took the opportunity to lightly caress the cool skin.
Her finger pad slid slowly along the curve behind the ear, carrying a trace of lazy warmth.
She even brushed the back of her finger against Bai Qingxue's earlobe, as if hoping to elicit some sort of reaction.
The hand holding the bowl paused for a fraction of a second. The rim of the bowl was still pressed against Bai Qingxue's lower lip as the steam drifted upward.
“Yes,” Bai Qingxue murmured, her voice slightly muffled, likely because the bowl was still resting against her lips.
She lowered her eyes and continued drinking her tea, the lingering warmth on the edge of her auricle slowly dissipating.
Lu Xueqing withdrew her hand but did not step back. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed. Separated by only a hand's width, she could feel the cool aura radiating from Bai Qingxue.
Lu Xueqing's gaze lingered on Bai Qingxue's profile before moving to the fingers gripping the bowl.
Bai Qingxue's fingers were long and pale, now tinged with a faint pink from the warmth of the porcelain bowl.
Lu Xueqing stared for a moment, then suddenly reached out and tapped the back of Bai Qingxue's hand with her index finger.
“Is it hot?” Lu Xueqing asked in a very casual tone.
Bai Qingxue looked down at where she had been tapped. The tiny sensation of warmth lingered on the back of her hand for a brief moment. “It’s not.”
“Oh.” Lu Xueqing did not withdraw her hand. Her index finger remained resting on the back of Bai Qingxue's hand, and her thumb soon joined, lightly caressing Bai Qingxue's knuckles.
Her finger pad slid slowly down the knuckle of Bai Qingxue's index finger to the base, then back up, repeating the motion twice before she slowly drew her hand back.
Bai Qingxue placed the empty bowl on the edge of the bed. With her silver hair tucked behind her ear, her delicate profile was fully revealed.
She turned her head to look at Lu Xueqing. Her gaze lingered on the hand Lu Xueqing had just withdrawn before moving up to her face.
Met with this look, Lu Xueqing curved her lips and smiled, showing no trace of guilt.
“I'll head out first then,” Lu Xueqing said, picking up the bowl and standing up. When she reached the doorway, she turned sideways, leaning against the doorframe to look at Bai Qingxue once more.
Her gaze lingered on Bai Qingxue's face, settling on the side of the ear where she had just tucked the hair, and she smiled.
“Tonight, I'll be waiting for you,” Lu Xueqing said. She raised her free hand and pinched her own earlobe, as if savoring a memory.
Then she turned and walked out, her steady footsteps carrying a triumphant lightness as they faded down the corridor.
Sitting on the bed, Bai Qingxue looked down at the back of her hand, which had been touched repeatedly.
Outside the window, the evening light was gradually creeping in.
Bai Qingxue sat on the bed for a while, then closed her eyes once more to guide the last strand of spiritual power into her dantian.
When she opened her eyes again, the sky outside had plunged completely into darkness.
The hour of the Rat was approaching.
Bai Qingxue stood up and pushed open the door of the quiet room.
The corridor had already grown dark, with only the shadow of the stunted pines at the far end swaying slightly in the night wind.
As Bai Qingxue stepped out, her gaze paused on the white porcelain bowl sitting by the corridor.
Lu Xueqing had placed it on the stone ledge beside the door. The bowl was empty, but inside lay a tiny ice crystal flower the size of a fingertip. Its six petals were as thin as cicada wings, glowing with a faint, cool blue light in the dark.
Did Lu Xueqing leave this...?
Bai Qingxue bent down to look at the flower, then straightened up and walked toward the end of the corridor.
Lu Xueqing was already waiting there.
Leaning against a pillar, her hands were clasped over the hilt of her sword, its tip resting on the ground. The night wind gently ruffled the hem of her robe.
Bai Qingxue walked up to her side. The distance between them was just right—close enough to walk side by side without bumping elbows, yet not so far as to seem distant.
Neither of them spoke. They simply took their steps in unison, walking out of the residence together.
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