Chapter Ten: Lantern Festival at the Pear Garden (1)

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Garden stroll. Lantern festival.

Blossoms surrounded by fiery trees and radiant lights, a spectacle of shimmering brilliance. The seven-colored paper lanterns cast an alluring blush onto Weiyu’s cheeks.

“Have you been waiting long?” Weiyu’s tone carried a hint of apology.

“No! Not at all, I just got here!” Even if he’d waited ten days, Huasheng would still answer like this.

“Have you ever been to a lantern festival before?”

“I attended one for the Lantern Festival before I came here, but since arriving in Saint Pingning, I haven’t.”

“Oh, I remember now. You said you’ve always stayed in the Academy and rarely go out. Wherever you want to go, I’ll accompany you,” Weiyu said.

“I’m fine with anything, everywhere feels new. Let’s just wander around.”

“Let’s buy some flower nectar then! There’s a famous flower nectar shop with a stall at tonight’s festival.” Perhaps infected by the lively atmosphere, Weiyu became as animated as a child upon entering the market.

Huasheng readily agreed, thinking flower nectar must be something like honey.

They approached a stall, where the left side bore the brush-written phrase, “As the vibrant flowers fade, colors fall away,” and the right, “Apricot rains and pear clouds, awaiting your return.” Above hung the signboard: “Butterfly Dance in Splendor.”

A young woman dressed in colorful stripes was busy, arranging fist-sized blooms of vivid flowers in transparent bottles on the table.

Weiyu walked over, waving cheerfully, “Sister Butterfly Spirit, hello!”

The young woman looked up, her two long antennae swaying. Huasheng thought they were hairpins, but on closer inspection, they were indeed slender golden antennae. The shopkeeper was a Butterfly Spirit.

“Just call me Xiao Zhu,” she smiled. “Little sister, would you like some flower nectar?”

“Boss Zhu! Peach blossom and osmanthus, please.” Then Weiyu turned to Huasheng, “Which would you like?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

“How about camellia and orchid as well?”

“Sure! Just a moment.” The young Butterfly Spirit deftly plucked four flowers—peach blossom, osmanthus, camellia, and orchid—from the display. The osmanthus, surprisingly, was larger than a fist, though Huasheng had never seen one bigger than a fingernail.

Butterfly Spirit wrapped the four blooms in pairs with paper, then took out a tube about half the thickness of a finger, inserted it into the flowers, and handed them to Weiyu. Weiyu waved her hand above the money box on the table, settling the payment.

Huasheng hurriedly protested, “Why are you paying?”

Weiyu laughed, “Afraid you won’t have the chance to pay?”

Indeed, a man need never worry about lacking opportunities to pay.

Huasheng, slightly shy, took the two flowers from Weiyu, their aroma rich and overflowing. Still, with each flower only about fist-sized, he feared they’d be gone in a single sip, and asked, “Isn’t that a bit little? Should we buy more?”

The Butterfly Spirit laughed, “Young man, this must be your first time trying our flower nectar? These two will last you until tomorrow!”

“Don’t be fooled by their size; though light, the nectar inside is plentiful. I’m just greedy tonight, wanting to sample more flavors—normally, one is plenty,” Weiyu explained. “When you’re done, you can keep the flower on your desk. Its fragrance will waft from your room to the courtyard—I love that.”

“I truly haven’t been out enough—short hair, short on experience,” Huasheng said, sipping the nectar. Refreshing and fragrant, it filled his mouth with sweetness, flowing smoothly to his stomach and invigorating his whole body. He couldn’t help but praise, “Wow! What an amazing drink!”

Weiyu covered her mouth with her sleeve, laughing, “Seems you’ve been cooped up in the Academy too long—be careful you don’t end up a bookworm instead of a proper immortal!”

Huasheng had never gone shopping alone with a girl, and felt stiff and awkward walking, unsure in conversation. In contrast, Weiyu was relaxed, leading him through the bustling stalls on both sides of the market.

“Are you an Immortal?” After much hesitation, Huasheng asked the question that had always been on his mind.

“No. I’d say Spirit Tribe,” Weiyu replied, glancing at the trinkets on a stall.

“Spirit Tribe? Does that mean you were once an animal?” He instantly felt rude, “Sorry. I’ve never interacted with Spirit Tribe before.”

“No, not exactly. How to put it…” Weiyu said, “Most immortals and spirits are transformed from animals or plants, but I’m a little different.”

“Then what are you?”

“Me? I am a piece of paper. Or rather, a sheet filled with words.”

“Paper can become a spirit?” Huasheng had never heard of such a thing.

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“Perhaps a blank sheet couldn’t, but words can. Language itself holds mysterious power. It can make the timid brave, the fragile strong.”

“So, language can carry magic?”

“Why not?” Weiyu smiled slightly. “Some words shouldn’t be spoken lightly.”

“And your family?”

“I have no family.” Weiyu’s voice grew a little forlorn. “I’ve been alone as far back as I can remember.”

“Ah?” Huasheng recalled growing up in an orphanage. His hardships weren’t something to share, but meeting a girl with a similar story brought a sense of kinship. “It must have been difficult. How did you manage?”

“Spirit Tribe and humans are different—sometimes, being alone is survivable. I never thought to rely on anyone, so everything feels natural to me.” Weiyu turned the question back, “What about you?”

Huasheng found himself at a loss, “I grew up in the welfare home, surrounded by people, but still often felt lonely. It’s hard to describe. It might be lively, but the staff were always busy. It was like a big family filled with children, so the adults focused on those who cried. I wasn’t one for attention.”

“You wanted to be noticed?”

Huasheng was surprised, “Doesn’t everyone wish to be cared for?”

“Is that normal?” Weiyu looked puzzled.

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

Huasheng couldn’t fathom someone who never needed others’ attention. Maybe only humans felt this way, and immortals or spirits in Saint Pingning didn’t? “I thought it was natural.”

Weiyu said, “People always crave endless attention, but it only breeds greed.”

“But you don’t seem cold-hearted.”

“I only need it from those I value, and not too much. Emotion is like watering a flower—endless thirst leads only to destruction.”

Huasheng had no reply. He realized Weiyu was far more mature than himself, knowing the boundaries and control of emotion. Both lacked adult affection growing up, but he was like a parched traveler in a desert, while Weiyu knew exactly what she wanted. In that, she was much more rational.

“Actually, since coming to Saint Pingning, I’ve felt uneasy.” Faced with this mature girl, Huasheng voiced the words he’d kept inside.

“You’re not used to it here?”

“It’s completely different from my old world. And I’ve lost the memories of how I arrived. I can’t say why, but I feel what I’ve forgotten is extremely important.”

“If it’s so important, why would you forget?”

“I don’t know. With the incident of the True Fire last time, I worry what I’ve forgotten might be something this place can’t accept.”

“Isn’t that just right? Believe that you’re here for a reason.” Weiyu suddenly said, “The day we met on the Jade Bridge—guess what I was doing up on the mountain?”

“What?”

“In the tower atop the peak lives the Black Tortoise Spirit Snake, but it lost its powers long ago and has been hibernating for millennia. I think it’s pitiful, so whenever I can, I go up and tell it stories.”

“Stories? You tell stories to a specimen?”

“It’s not a specimen!” Weiyu glared. “It’s just in hibernation. Alone, for a very long time.”

“So it’s like telling bedtime stories?”

Weiyu nodded.

“Does it mean anything?”

“There’s no meaning. Why should there be? Perhaps because I understand loneliness, I’m willing to sit there and tell stories—even if it can’t hear, or doesn’t understand. But gradually, I realized those stories are really for myself. As a child, I always told myself stories before bed.”

Huasheng felt a pang in his heart. As a fellow orphan, he could imagine how many cold nights this girl endured.

“You’re kind. And you’ve suffered a lot.”

Weiyu gazed at the floating lanterns, “Every living being has its destined path. We have many important things to do, no need to wallow in self-pity.”

Huasheng thought perhaps this was why the Little Lord said Weiyu appeared cold to others. Coldness is a shield. Yet since she was willing to talk, he resolved not to squander this rare connection.

At that moment, Weiyu stopped at a small shop. Huasheng looked up—the stall was called “Under the Moon.”

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The vendor was a middle-aged man with a long beard. Above his table, rows of glass bottles hung from red cords. Inside each transparent bottle was a glowing orb—some round, some crescent-shaped. Huasheng peered closer and realized the suspended object was a tiny moon; its shape varied depending on which part was illuminated. The little moons lit up the bottles, making them irresistible.

Weiyu, seeing them, was delighted, handling each bottle like a child with a beloved toy, reluctant to put them down.

Seeing her joy, Huasheng asked the vendor, “Sir, what are these?”

“It’s moonlight. Each day’s moonlight,” the man replied.

“You mean, moonlight?” Huasheng clarified.

“The date is engraved on the bottom of each bottle,” the bearded man said.

Huasheng checked—one bottle was marked “Autumn, eighth month, day of Bingzi, Year of Yichou,” another “Spring, third month, day of Jimao, Year of Wuzi.”

“What are they made from?”

“They’re made from stones on the moon itself.”

“Do you have every year?”

“Name a date, and I can find any from the past thousand years.”

“I want tonight’s!” Weiyu stared intently at the bottles. “Sir, do you have tonight’s moonlight?”

The man stroked his beard, “Little girl, I have all past moonlights. Tonight’s just arrived. Do you want it?”

“Yes! Yes!” Weiyu exclaimed without hesitation.

“But you haven’t asked the price.”

Huasheng quickly said, “Let me buy it. How much for tonight’s moonlight?”

The man looked at Huasheng, “One thousand four hundred eighty-six and seventy-two.”

What a strange price? Huasheng wondered, remembering he had about a thousand in savings, though the exact amount was unclear. “Sir, I’m not sure I have enough.”

“You can try paying and see if your balance covers it.”

Huasheng waved his hand over the money box—payment successful. His account now showed zero.

“Ah, you’ve cleared me out! Sir, your moonlight is a real ‘moon-spender’!” Huasheng said. “Now I truly am: food, clothing, housing, travel—all empty.”

“To give all you have for the right person—isn’t it worth it?” The man laughed. “Emotions between people seem shapeless, but perhaps they are a red thread invisible to mortals. If it weren’t real, why would breaking it cause pain? Treasure it well.”

Turning away, the man opened a large wooden chest behind him, took out a palm-sized red cloth bag, and handed it to Weiyu. “Here’s tonight’s moonlight. Child, take care not to break it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it!” Weiyu smiled, her eyes narrowing like a child who’d just received a gift, impatiently opening the bag to reveal the glass bottle. Inside, a crescent moon quietly radiated elegant, pure light.

Weiyu walked along, sometimes lifting the bottle to compare it with the real moon overhead. “Tonight’s moon is so beautiful! I want to carry it with me forever, so every time I see it, I’ll remember how happy I am now!”

Seeing Weiyu’s delight, Huasheng felt content.

They strolled a bit longer, when Weiyu suddenly remembered, “Oh, I told you I’d have to leave tonight for something. Go to the theater ahead and wait for me. I should arrive before the Eagle’s concert starts. I’ll come find you at your seat!” She handed him the ticket Huasheng had left with her last time.

Huasheng checked—the show started in half an hour. “It’s fine, I’ll wait at the entrance so we can go in together.”

Weiyu smiled, “Your first time at the Pear Garden for a show—you mustn’t miss the exciting prelude!”

Unable to argue, Huasheng gave in. After saying goodbye, he wandered the lantern festival, but found it dull, and headed for the ticket gate.

The venue was built by the riverside, an open-air arena with stage and seating constructed over the lake, resembling a ballpark at first glance. From afar, the scene was ablaze with lights, with a dozen giant beams sweeping the sky—lively and spectacular!

After passing through the gate, an attendant gave Huasheng a metal bracelet, intricately engraved with Sanskrit patterns and the words “Linglong Ring” in the center.

“What is this for?” Huasheng asked the attendant. “Do I have to wear it inside?”

“It’s a sealing ring—for safety during the show. Anyone wearing it will have all attack-type magic above Xuanming level sealed. If magic support is needed during the performance, some spells will be unsealed as required, letting you cast them. When the show ends, we’ll help you remove it.”

Magic support? Huasheng didn’t quite understand. He’d ask Weiyu when she arrived.