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V1, Ch 1

I had lived at Shu Di for ten years already, and in that time we never received a single message. Of course, I was happy to enjoy this serene life, and was thankful to avoid the world of elaborate schemes and cutthroat competition that lay within city walls.

Every day I studied with Kun Lun: the complex subjects of the Nine Notes and the Eight Trigrams, and the intricacies of geomancy. As I lingered in the Daylily Pavilion, surrounded by old texts, day by day the book covers became more and more battered under my hands. And day by day I grew stronger. These secret arts consumed the greater part of my time.

Sunlight rarely reached Kun Lun's bamboo-grove house, and I was holed up every day studying and working in the Daylily Pavilion, so my skin was always pale and without healthy color. I left my hair to grow long, and I hated tying it up, so it just fell over my shoulders. Kun Lun sometimes helped me manage it. When I was sixteen she had given me a jade hairpin; the jade was crystal clear all the way through, and it was carved simply with the figure of an ancient beast, which I recognized as a Bi'an.

Bi'an guard prisons, and you might think it was an image too somber and too stern for a girl, but I loved the gift. It was much simpler to use this fine hairpin to put up my hair, and finally I no longer looked so lazy and disheveled.

When I was young, I thought Kun Lun was a taciturn woman, green in all seasons, like a lotus that never wilted even in the heat of summer. I had met very few people but still I was convinced: Kun Lun had to be the cleverest woman in the world. Long ago, she was a master of qinggong, but now she used a wheelchair.

I didn't know why, but for the past few days she always seemed displeased when she looked at me. It was as though her face was covered with dark clouds. I grew apprehensive; the only thing I could think of was that I hadn't been paying enough attention to my studies, and had offended her.

I made some side dishes, and brought a casket of wine to find her and apologize. When the glow of the setting sun lit the sky, she always went to the bamboo grove.

"Yi'er, I smelled the Yuyeqing before you even got here." Kun Lun sat with her eyes closed, the light of the setting sun dying the side of her face like a faint layer of gold powder. She was rarely so content. I came forward quietly, and laid out the dishes. She loved the aged Yuyeqing; she had many jars of it in her cellar, and in her leisure time always liked to take some out and drink a few mouthfuls. I had heard that it was given to her by an old friend who had since passed away.

"Kun Lun, are you angry with me?" I asked carefully.

She cracked an eye open, and smiled a little with the corner of her mouth. "Not at all. I'm just a little impatient lately. I've been waiting for someone."

I read some kind of relief in her eyes. I didn't know why, but something in her expression scared me. She listened intently for a moment, then abruptly said: "No need to hurry now, I've already waited this long."

No sooner had she said this than I heard a sharp whistling noise pierce the air, and I shivered. Then I saw that the five-row arrangement of plum blossoms I had placed before the Daylily Pavilion had been broken by someone moving through them. Though I was far behind Kun Lun, I had trained for many years, and I hurried to see who dared attack us. But I hardly took a step before Kun Lun stopped me. She shook her head, and indicated I should look forward.

Ahead of us, the close-woven mugwort abruptly parted. With a loud crack, a tall slim figure emerged.

This woman wore a bamboo hat, and was dressed head to toe in white. Her face was veiled by gauze, and her thin lips and pale neck could only be glimpsed through the gaps in the fabric, like branches peaking through snow.