A day or two passed.
Shen Jing began to notice that Sun Qiyan was always preoccupied. He always seed on the verge of telling her sothing, yet he never spoke. She didn’t press him.
She listened quietly to the monks chanting prayers for blessings in Janet Hall. She often recalled her ti in Shanghai’s Nanhuai Ancient Temple, accompanying Zhou Luchen as he copied Buddhist scriptures. He would place a pillow for her head and fan her. The backs of the pages, filled with the Jade Rules Scriptures, were covered with her na.
This ti, Sun Qiyan was the one by her side, placing a pillow for her.
She listened to the chanting until evening before leaving Janet Hall.
Zhou Luchen in the East Pavilion was just waking up, his days and nights reversed. By sunset, it was Zhou Luchen who was ditating in Janet Hall.
To the left of Janet Hall, an altar table was laden with Prayer Lamps. Their flickering lights cast stark, exceedingly glaring shadows.
Seeing Zhou Luchen’s puzzled expression, the Abbot explained, "Mr. Zhou, those are Prayer Lamps." With that, he led Zhou Luchen to the front of the altar table. The Abbot straightened an askew Prayer Lamp. "Would you like to request a Prayer Lamp, Mr. Zhou?" he asked. "The young lady from the neighboring courtyard earnestly requested several. She knelt all the way from the temple entrance to the inner hall. If Old Madam Zhou knew you were requesting Prayer Lamps for her with such devotion, her heart would surely be comforted."
Zhou Luchen raised his hand, his fingers brushing against a lotus-shaped lamp on the altar. It was a small, exquisite glass vessel burning with lamp oil. He inadvertently saw the cinnabar script and a na written on it.
*May Qiyan be safe and sound.*
Sun Qiyan?
He indifferently withdrew his arm. "Who stays in the Eastern Second Pavilion?"
The Abbot returned the gesture with a single palm salutation. "A couple."
Zhou Luchen frowned. A couple?
"Yes, a couple. They run together on the path behind the mountain every morning and have been staying here for about ten days." The Abbot carefully repositioned the lotus Prayer Lamp. "This is the young lady’s heartfelt blessing, ticulously written in cinnabar with her own hand," he explained. "On her first day, she knelt all the way from the first step of the stairs to the thirteenth level of the temple."
Zhou Luchen glanced back at the altar table. Another lamp bore the na of Old Master Shen Weishan.
He understood.
A mont later, he accepted the silk handkerchief Zhuang Ming offered, wiping his fingers with slow deliberation. His expression remained impassive, betraying no emotion.
Zhuang Ming, however, was oblivious to any activity from the Eastern Second Pavilion.
He followed Zhou Luchen back to the East Pavilion.
The temple was vast, and the path from the front courtyard back to the East Pavilion was long.
Patchy darkness settled as cold snowflakes drifted leisurely down.
"Alright, don’t cry anymore."
A man’s gentle coaxing voice mingled with a young woman’s muffled sobs.
Zhou Luchen suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking up at the scene ahead.
Dim lamplight swayed in the wind.
Sun Qiyan was supporting Shen Jing, his arm around her waist. The disparity in their heights and builds made it seem as though he completely enveloped her. They walked slowly, leaving only their retreating silhouettes.
Shen Jing carried a broken phone in her left hand and a bag of frozen pears in her right; half of the sweater she wore was dirty. Her knee was scraped, blood seeping alarmingly from the wound.
He supported her with such tenderness and care, as if cradling a precious treasure that might lt away at the slightest misstep.
Sun Qiyan’s voice trembled, thick with heartache, as he asked, "Does it hurt?"
Her body shivered as she spoke. "It hurts."
"Couldn’t you have waited for ? You went to dig up so frozen pears and ended up falling into the river. Honestly, how do you even walk?"
Sun Qiyan’s reproach was gentle and patient. His voice grew softer and softer, as if speaking more harshly might deepen her sorrow.
Shen Jing lifted her arm, gently wiping tears onto her sweater, whimpering, "I... I was craving them. I haven’t had at for days, so I just wanted so frozen pears."
A few days prior, she and Sun Qiyan had buried so pears in a snowdrift on the back mountain. Finding herself idle earlier, she had snuck out to dig them up, only to fall on the rocks in the dark.
Sun Qiyan smiled warmly, patiently coaxing her in a doting voice, "In a couple of days, when we go down the mountain, I’ll make sothing delicious for you, okay?"
"Mhm..."
Shen Jing was easy to coax.
Zhou Luchen stood rooted to the spot, listening quietly, watching quietly, his face expressionless. Zhuang Ming did the sa.
Only when Sun Qiyan’s retreating figure disappeared into the Eastern Second Pavilion and the door closed with a CLICK did Zhou Luchen finally move, calmly walking past on his way back to the East Pavilion.
He saw the fresh bloodstains on the snow but remained utterly unmoved.
Zhuang Ming glanced at the firmly closed gate of the Eastern Second Pavilion. How strange, he thought, for a couple to co to a temple for a retreat... It seems rather improper.
Throughout the night, Zhou Luchen, as usual, focused his mind and finished copying the remaining scriptures.
Zhuang Ming didn’t bring up what happened next door, and Zhou Luchen never asked, as if it no longer mattered.
Like previous nights, he was absorbed in copying scriptures. When tired, he would take a break, light a cigarette, and gaze indifferently at the snow falling outside the window.
After all, the Second Young Master and Miss Shen had already broken up. He only ever ca knocking on her door when he was drunk and tipsy.
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