Seven Songs(Yin Deng Jue/Secret Of Leading The Light) - Chapter 22
Chapter 22: The Lonely Soul Market—Part 3
She had thought that if Yan Qige came out to find her, it meant he intended to bring her back.
Even if his pride wouldn’t allow him to admit any fault, he would at least soften his tone to coax her a little, giving her a graceful way to return.
Yet, who would have thought that Yan Qige, having come all this way, would simply mock her and then leave?
This rekindled the spark of anger that had just begun to subside, leaving Yusang’s temper smoldering without an outlet, frustrating and agonizing her.
“Infuriating!”
Yusang swung her hand in frustration, but to her dismay, it seemed even the heavens were intent on opposing her.
As her hand moved down, a branch snagged her sleeve, tearing off a large piece with a ripping sound.
“Even a tree is bullying me,” Yusang grumbled with a bitter smile.
She dismounted from the branch, glancing at the large tree with an exasperated look as she examined her torn sleeve.
Earlier, while picking out clothes for Ming Ran, Yusang had noticed a pale green dress in a clothing shop.
The style was simple, but the fabric was of fine quality, and the craftsmanship was exquisite.
She had admired it for a while but hadn’t thought of buying it for herself, so she returned it to the shopkeeper.
Now that she needed a new set of clothes, it was her first choice.
When she entered the shop again, the shopkeeper, recognizing her, greeted her with a cheerful smile.
“Miss, I knew you’d be back.”
“Oh? Didn’t know you not only knew business but also had some fortune-telling skills.”
The shopkeeper chuckled, fetching the dress she had admired before and handing it to Yusang.
“Miss, this dress truly suits you. Why not try it on first? I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.”
Yusang went behind a folding screen to change, and when she emerged, the shopkeeper looked her over with admiration, exclaiming, “Miss, you look like a celestial being descended from heaven! If you wore this down the street, all the young men would have their eyes glued to you.”
Yusang examined the dress, moving the hem to either side.
She had to admit it fit her well, and she quite liked it.
“How much is this?”
“For you, I’ll knock off the extra. Ten taels even,” the shopkeeper said with a smile, squinting his eyes in delight.
Yusang’s heart sank at the price.
As a demon, she had little sense of money, and even if she tried, she couldn’t conjure up silver out of thin air.
“I… don’t have that much silver with me,” Yusang said, turning her brows into a pleading frown.
“Well then, miss, how much can you give?” The shopkeeper waved his hand generously.
With a forced smile, Yusang held up eight fingers.
“Eight taels?” the shopkeeper asked, shaking his head.
“Miss, that’s too low; it won’t do.”
Seeing no point in arguing further, Yusang lowered her head, about to return to the inner room to change out of the dress.
Not wanting to lose the sale, the shopkeeper quickly changed his tone, grabbing her arm.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go, Miss! Everything’s negotiable!”
“I…” Yusang started to explain miserably, but before she could, a clear, slightly amused male voice interjected.
“Shopkeeper, this young lady will take the dress.”
It was a simple, casual phrase, but spoken in a voice that carried an indescribable warmth, like the pleasant breeze of spring or a scene of blooming flowers reflected in water, making it impossible to refuse.
Hearing the voice, Yusang was momentarily stunned, an image flashing through her mind as memories swept over her like fog, obscuring and then clearing her view, flooding her with suppressed recollections.
After a moment, she slowly turned toward the door, where she saw a familiar figure.
The sunlight outside was bright, casting its glow over the threshold of the shop, where a man stood.
His black hair was bound with a jade pin, his eyes sharp and gleaming.
He wore a dark robe with wide sleeves, a light jade belt around his waist.
Tall and graceful, his figure seemed ethereal, outlined by the sunlight streaming in from behind him.
“This dress looks good on you. No need to change out of it,” the man said to Yusang, tossing a piece of silver toward the dumbstruck shopkeeper.
“Come,” he extended a hand to Yusang.
Yusang stared at his hand for a moment, finally convinced he had really come for her.
With mixed emotions, she took a few steps forward and reached out her hand.
The man held her hand and led her out of the shop, where a dark red six-sided carriage made of golden-threaded nanmu wood awaited.
Two white horses stood quietly in front, and a youth in a green robe sat holding the reins.
The man helped Yusang into the carriage, and they set off.
The interior of the carriage was simple, with pale blue silk wall coverings, faint floral patterns, two benches, and a table with a small red clay stove and a teapot on it.
“Sit,” the man said, sitting on the bench on the left.
With a casual flick of his sleeve toward the small stove, a flickering orange flame appeared.
It was a spiritual flame, unlike ordinary fire.
Yusang sat down opposite him, hesitating to speak but unable to take her eyes off his every movement, unwilling to miss even the smallest expression.
Time passed in silence.
Though he hadn’t said a word or even looked up at her, Yusang’s face grew increasingly tense, and she began twisting her fingers nervously.
“Ding.”
The carriage jolted slightly, and the teacup on the table clinked softly.
Startled, Yusang abruptly stood up, took a step back, and lowered her head.
“I… I know I was wrong.”
Without lifting his gaze, the man continued handling the teapot on the small stove.
After a moment, he raised his hand slightly, gesturing for her to sit. “It’s been a while since you’ve returned to Jiwu Mountain, so it’s been a while since you last had Yunxia Tea. See if it tastes the same.”
“I know I shouldn’t have left the mountain without permission. If Immortal Lord is displeased, Yusang is willing to accept punishment,” Yusang replied solemnly, head bowed, her usual playful demeanor gone.
The man’s slender hand lifted the teapot, pouring tea into a celadon cup and pushing it toward her.
Behind the soft steam, he lifted his gaze, his eyes deep and distant, carrying a faint warmth within their aloofness.
