5.1 - Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree Volume I

Chapter 5: The book Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree Volume I

During winter, the days were short and the nights were long. As the sunlight began to drain away, the skies overhead bled briefly with pink and violet hues, signalling to street vendors and shopkeepers alike that it was time to light up their lanterns.

The crowded market street teeming with people from all walks of life was flanked by two rows of shops and street vendors. Herds of martial artists from various factions and alliances roamed about makeshift booths, fancy restaurants and teahouses, as well as shops selling weaponry, jewellery and local specialities. As the martial arts convention was the next day, excitement and anticipation lingered in the air, which also carried the savoury aroma of food.

My feet dragged wearily across the dusty and gritty bazaar ground while my arms ached under the weight of a stack of parcels piled mountain high. The back of my neck ached from craning sideways to peer around the obstruction to my vision. Having walked all afternoon, I was famished and footsore. Blisters had formed at the sides and back of my feet. The boots that Xiao Lan gave were hard and rough, and were not at all like the comfortable trainers that modern society was blessed with.

A cool, crisp breeze wafted the fragrance of meat buns towards us. Searching for the source, I did not have to look far before I caught sight of a street vendor lifting a wooden lid off a stack of bamboo baskets. A cloud of white steam gushed out before dissipating into the icy air. My mouth started to water at the sight of the fluffy white steamed buns cradled comfortably in the bamboo steamer which would give them a subtle woody scent. I could already imagine biting into the juicy savoury meat at the centre of the soft warm bun and the lingering aftertaste of warmth and homeliness.

"Young lady! Come try our steamed buns!" The street vendor noticed my longing gaze and called out with a broad smile. I swallowed and gave an awkward smile.

"Can we get that?" I raised my voice above the noise, hoping to get Mo Yue's attention. But he did not seem to have heard me and kept going. My heart sank at the lost opportunity to satiate my hunger and I shuffled after him begrudgingly. How could he continue to remain unmoved and not be tempted by the wide array of food that had passed us by? The entire afternoon, we had not stopped at a single food place. All we did was enter shops after shops for Mo Yue to purchase useless items like clothes, weapon accessories, writing materials. Claiming that they were going to be souvenirs, he also bought boxes of local delicacies and snacks but never opened a single one to taste.

Weaving deftly through the crowd, Mo Yue turned off the street and entered a fan shop. I hurried to follow him, and narrowly avoided crashing into an exiting customer as I navigated the steps leading up to the entrance.

Fans of different designs, shapes and sizes stood on countertops and on tall shelves against the wall. A few extraordinarily large folding fans made of silk were proudly displayed in the most prominent location of the shop for customers to admire the intricate and detailed paintings on them. One fan had a painting of bright yellow chrysanthemums accompanied by a poem in illegible scrawls; and another had a landscape of mountains and rivers painted on its white silk.

To avoid bumping into the well-dressed and scholarly martial heroes who steadily streamed into the shop, I stood against the wall of the shop, next to a standing lamp. The slight warmth from the candle flame permeated the lampshade and spread to my cheeks, a contrast against the chill air. Jolting out of my introspective idleness, I search around the shop for Mo Yue. He was busy studying a handheld folding fan with four characters on it written in calligraphy pen. I sighed internally, feeling the blood in my temples. He was taking too long to window shop for fans.

I limped slightly to lessen the pain as I moved towards him. "Why are you looking at fans? Are you buying one as a souvenir for a member of your organisation?"

"I am thinking of getting on for myself," he said without looking up from his inspection. "I can use it for when I feel warm."

I stared at him, brows tightly knitted. Was he being serious about using such an elegant and status-defining fan to create wind? Should it not be more appropriate to use it as an accessory to complement his tall, handsome and genteel image instead?

"Are you done yet?" I asked Mo Yue, trailing behind him. A sharp pain shot up the back of my right feet and leg as I took a step forward. Shivers ran through my spine. Flinching, my grip on the parcels weakened and the items that Mo Yue had bought tumbled onto the stone floor.

"What's wrong?" He turned around from his browsing, startled.

"I'm hungry, tired and in a lot of pain."

Mo Yue returned the sandalwood fan in his hand back to the shelf as his mouth twitched. "Already hungry? Did you not eat merely four hours ago?"

I squatted down, hugged my legs close to my body and groaned pitifully, "my arms and feet hurt. I think I scraped the skin on my feet and shin. There may be bleeding." After walking all day, my socks had come untied and had slipped down to my ankles. The friction of the rough boots on my tender skin had definitely given me abrasions.

Seeing that I remained unmoved and did not scramble to retrieve the fallen objects despite the strange looks that people were throwing at us, Mo Yue took a deep breath, passed his sword to me and bent down to pick the packages up. He stacked them neatly on a wooden countertop before lifting them up effortlessly.

"Let's go." He pursed his lips together, a subtle tinge of guilt in his tone. "Can you still walk?"

I stood up, slightly reddened. Would he think that I was throwing a tantrum? I tried to console myself with the thought that I had not complained for the past few hours and had dutifully given helpful comments on the souvenirs that he purchased. I was pretty much an excellent shopping companion. "Yes," I said after a pause, "where are we going?"

"To have dinner," he replied vaguely and turned to walk out of the shop. "Be careful of the threshold and steps."

My face lit up instantly and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was on the tip of my tongue to remark that he should be the one to be careful instead and not trip over the uneven cobblestone steps, but I was too taken aback by his sudden change in behaviour. Did he just show me some concern?

A single step forward ignited the searing pain in my lower limbs and I clutched tightly onto the metal sheath, my palms damp with perspiration. Wincing, I bore with the pain and hobbled alongside Mo Yue.

Noticing that I was limping, he offered gently. "You can hold onto my arm if it helps you to walk better."

I shot him a sideway glance. "But shouldn't you be more concerned that men and women should keep their distance?"

"And were you concerned about that earlier when you were tugging at me on the street, in the middle of a scuffle?"

"Indeed I wasn't," I smiled and rested one cold hand on his forearm, over his sleeves. His clothes felt thicker than they looked. "Many thanks."

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