Evil Spirit - chapter 16

Chapter 16

Most of the listeners in the teahouse had already left, and Li Jiaojiao pulled Duan Qinglian along as they walked out.

It was just past breakfast time. Vendors on both sides of the street were gradually setting up their stalls. The tempting aromas of fried food and steamers drifted through the air, making her crave a bite again.

But her bulging stomach made her reluctant.

“Do you like listening to storytelling?” Li Jiaojiao suddenly asked.

Duan Qinglian shook his head. “No.”

“Then why did you come to the teahouse so early?” she pressed, even more curious.

“Didn’t you say I should try to be a good person?”

…

“What does that have to do with listening to storytelling?” Li Jiaojiao frowned. After spending some time with him, she thought she could keep up with Duan Qinglian’s way of thinking.

“You said good people can’t kill. But not killing is always boring, so I went to ask the innkeeper. He told me to try listening to a storytelling performance at the teahouse, so I gave it a shot.”

Li Jiaojiao paused for a moment, then asked, “How did you ask the innkeeper?”

“I asked him what could possibly be more interesting than killing.”

……

Seeing Duan Qinglian answer with such seriousness, Li Jiaojiao could only hope that the innkeeper wouldn’t throw them out when they returned.

She sighed and continued, “So, what do you think?”

“Very boring.”

“But I find it quite interesting.” Li Jiaojiao clasped her hands behind her back, enjoying the gentle breeze of late morning. “Ah Qing, let me ask you-was that Evil Spirit sealed in the Luo River actually you?”

She deliberately made her question sound casual.

Duan Qinglian’s expression didn’t change, a faint smile on his lips. “Seems so. I was the only Evil Spirit sealed in the Luo River.”

His tone was light, as if he were recounting someone else’s story.

“Was it really my father and Shen Sizhu who sealed you?” An indescribable feeling welled up in her heart.

“I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.”

……

If it had been before, Li Jiaojiao would have thought he was simply heartless.

After all, Duan Qinglian was always so calm and detached, as if nothing mattered to him, cruelty or joy alike.

But now, she was starting to see him differently.

In his memories, she had seen his strange and twisted childhood.

At his age, Shen Yunlan should have been learning magic.

Fang Zhiyi should have been practicing swordplay.

But he had already been taught by his mother how to kill.

“Ah Qing.” When she spoke again, her voice dropped a little, inexplicably gentle. “I’ll stay with you.”

Words of comfort she had mulled over for a long time.

He bent down, the dark strands of hair on his shoulder slipping to brush against her cheek, carrying a faint, cool fragrance. “Are you about to cry?”

They were so close that Li Jiaojiao could even see flecks of morning light in the depths of his eyes. That face – no matter how many times she saw it, at the first glance it always sent ripples through her heart.

“Of course not.”

The girl turned her head away, embarrassed. Her voice was soft and tender, and her lips, tinted with balm, shone faintly, like a bite taken out of a piece of soft cake.

That feeling again.

Ever since last night, whenever he saw her soft pink lips, his heart would tighten, and even his breathing would speed up.

This strange restlessness was becoming impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, Duan Qinglian straightened up, and the cool fragrance vanished.

“Listening to storytelling doesn’t seem to work. Can we pause our ‘be a good person’ game?”

He was still smiling, but Li Jiaojiao could see a surge of restlessness in his eyes. The Sword Line – a thread-like weapon – had somehow slipped from his sleeve, winding around his pale knuckles as he rhythmically stroked it.

Li Jiaojiao couldn’t help but be startled. Was he thinking of killing again?

She sniffed, quickly took his arm, and led him toward the inn. “This morning, I found out that the innkeeper keeps a Little Yellow Dog in the backyard. It’s so friendly! When I came out to look for you, I even played with it for a while. Let me show you.”

*

The Little Yellow Dog in the backyard was indeed very friendly. Every guest staying at the inn liked to play with it, and even those burly, scar-faced wanderers would get a wagging tail and a nuzzle from it.

But it was a different story with Duan Qinglian.

The Little Yellow Dog curled up in Li Jiaojiao’s arms, pushing its head desperately under her armpit, as if terrified of the man before it, whose smile was as gentle as a spring breeze.
“Xiao Huang isn’t usually like this…” Li Jiaojiao held the trembling Xiao Huang, feeling rather troubled. “Wait a moment, let me try to persuade it again.”

With that, she turned and lifted Xiao Huang out of her arms. “Shopkeeper, please let him hold it for a moment-just one hug is enough. Do you know how many lives this hug could save?”

Xiao Huang: Whimper?

“Saving a life is better than building a seven-tiered stupa. If you let him hold you, maybe you won’t have to be a dog in your next life.”

Xiao Huang: Whimper…

“Alright, try holding it again.” Li Jiaojiao turned back and handed Xiao Huang over.

Duan Qinglian had just raised his hand, hovering in the air before it could land, when Xiao Huang suddenly began to struggle violently, even howling with a heart-wrenching intensity that rivaled a pig being slaughtered, drawing the shopkeeper from the front hall into the backyard.

Li Jiaojiao was speechless; she had never seen anyone so disliked by both people and dogs…

After Xiao Huang was taken away, the courtyard returned to peace.

Li Jiaojiao sighed and plopped down onto a stone chair.

The shopkeeper was somewhat poetic; the backyard where he chopped wood and stoked the fire was planted full of pear trees. It happened to be the season when the branches were covered in blossoms, and the whole courtyard was filled with the sweet fragrance of pears.

Li Jiaojiao lay on the stone table, tilting her head to gaze up at the person beside her.

“Are you still unhappy?”

As if to match her angle, Duan Qinglian leaned slightly as well. “Yes.”

Li Jiaojiao frowned, knowing he was truly displeased; otherwise, how could that usual gentle smile be gone?

“What would make you happy?”

“Only killing.”

The last sentence made Duan Qinglian press his lips together just as he was about to speak. She was getting to know him better and better.

“Ah Qing, if I made it snow in this whole courtyard, would you be happy?” Li Jiaojiao propped herself up, her elbow on the stone table, her eyes filled with the white of pear blossoms.

“What’s so happy about snowfall?”

Duan Qinglian didn’t understand. What did snow have to do with pear blossoms, and what did happiness have to do with snow? These things didn’t bring him joy.

“Snowfall isn’t rare, but snow in April is different.” Li Jiaojiao suddenly stood up, her skirt sleeve brushing across Duan Qinglian’s hand, carrying a sweet candy scent. “Just wait!”

Her voice was clear and bright, the ending sweet as the candy at her waist, and even her hurried, lively figure seemed to overflow with sunlight.

She looked so happy. Duan Qinglian couldn’t understand-how could anyone in this world be so happy? Happy enough that he wanted to use his Sword Line to cut through that light voice, so she’d never laugh like that again.

“Ah Qing, look!”

His morbid thoughts were torn apart by her clear call. Duan Qinglian looked up, and in an instant, a vast, dazzling whiteness flooded his vision.

Li Jiaojiao was perched on a pear tree branch, her wide sleeves tied up to reveal slender arms, shaking the tree with all her might.

White petals fell like snow, and for a moment, he truly felt as if he were standing in a December snowfall.

Amidst the falling blossoms, Duan Qinglian couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.

“I see it.”

“You’re smiling! See, I told you snow in April is rare, isn’t it?” Li Jiaojiao beamed, pear petals covering her, her embroidered shoes dangling in the air, looking just like a cat leaping onto a branch.

Suddenly, her curved brows paused, her gaze swept outside the wall, and she quickly crouched down, face full of panic. “The shopkeeper is coming in, Ah Qing, catch me!”

With that, she stood trembling on the branch, lifted her skirt, and leapt toward him.

As if compelled by fate, Duan Qinglian really reached out and caught her. The girl let out a muffled sound, then lifted her face from his arms.

“Do you feel better?”

He hesitated slightly, then nodded.

Indeed, from the moment the girl climbed to the treetop, his palpitations had stopped, replaced by a wild, drum-like pounding in his chest.

He only felt like this when killing-an excitement that spread from his heart to his fingertips, even making his lips tremble. But today was different; this feeling washed over him like a fierce tide, indescribable.

“Even though my Xiao Bai is afraid of you, and the shopkeeper’s Xiao Huang is afraid of you, I can keep you company.”

“Is that alright, Ah Qing?”