Ink Burns

Chapter 243 Painting
That night, it was so quiet that even the fluttering of mosquito wings could be heard clearly.

Shan Yue reached out and carefully gathered up her skirt, which had spread out as she knelt. She stood up, leaning on the side table next to the cushion, and turned to gently fan the moths chasing the candlelight out of the window with a silk fan.

The moth's fear of the unknown hurricane overcame its innate desire for fire, and it soon disappeared into the night.

Shan Yue stood by the window, her figure thin and frail, almost drowning in the black mist of twilight, or like a folded paper boat, drifting alone and forlorn on the deep, dark water.

"A letter has just arrived from the Marquis of Guanbei's residence."

The sound of the moth flapping its wings faded away, and a deep, clear male voice came on.

The mountain moon turns back.

Xue Xiao's expression was calm. He first went to the coffin and lit three incense sticks for Cheng Xingyu. Then, he held the crimson gold-embossed invitation between his index and middle fingers and handed it to Shan Yue: "The person who came was an unfamiliar old woman. I heard that Jing Anxin gave it to Zhou Shi and invited you to Guan Anzhai to discuss matters at noon tomorrow. That old woman probably doesn't know much about the inside story and was unwilling to give the invitation to the gatekeeper. She insisted on waiting for Huang Zhi to come before giving it out."

Shan Yue lowered her eyes and accepted the book, quickly glanced at it, and nodded to indicate that she understood.

Xue Xiao lowered his head slightly, his gaze gently sweeping over Shan Yue: she had lost a lot of weight, her already pointed face now looked as if it had been reshaped, her skin clinging tightly to her bones, her cheekbones slightly protruding, conveying a rugged and sharp look reminiscent of towering peaks.

In the days following Cheng Xingyu's death, Shanyue, aside from uttering a couple of cries of "Why? Why?", had shed no further tears. Like a capable and efficient housekeeper, she meticulously arranged Cheng Xingyu's funeral: aside from the various funeral arrangements, she also wrote a letter to Bai Yusi of Songjiang Prefecture, stating, "I trouble Lord Bai to select a son from the charitable institution to study under Xingyu. This son is best suited to be under three years old. He can be sent to be taught by Xingyu's maternal uncle in Pingning Mountain, or he can be sent to the capital for my personal upbringing. If this son achieves success, all of the Cheng family's assets will be transferred to his name."

He spoke very forcefully about the Cheng family: "If any member of the Cheng family has any objections to this arrangement, they are welcome to come to the capital to find me, He Shanyue, especially Uncle Cheng the Third."

He affixed his personal seal to the letter and sent it by fast horse along the official road to Songjiang Prefecture.

Shan Yue personally collected Cheng Xingyu's belongings left in the capital for seven days, without lending them to anyone else.

Shan Yue consistently appeared strong, stable, self-possessed, calm, and silent.

When Wang Erniang returned from bringing food to Shanyue, she sighed, "Dr. Cheng has been ill for so many years, and everyone knows in their hearts that he is a good person who doesn't live long. Sanyue knew this even better and had been preparing all along. Now that he has passed away, it's understandable."

Xue Xiao shook her head inwardly: She couldn't understand, she hadn't figured it out. If she had, she wouldn't have asked "why" when Cheng Xingyu breathed his last.

The heavy coffin stood in the very center, surrounded by burning candles.

Cheng Xingyu lay there quietly and pale, a smile on his lips, as if he were asleep.

Xue Xiao asked, "Today is the seventh day after his death, and the burial is tomorrow?"

Shan Yue nodded: "The burial is tomorrow. I've chartered a large boat, and we'll return to Songjiang Prefecture tomorrow. The ice, the mourners, and the boatmen have all been arranged, and an auspicious time has been chosen."

As Shan Yue was speaking, she suddenly remembered something and called out to Huang Zhi in a loud voice: "Find two more suona players for the funeral. The one from the other day was no good; he was lazy and cunning, and might even slack off once he got on the boat. Don't skimp on the money; if you're going to find someone, find the best."

Huang Zhi wiped her face and ran as fast as she could.

Xue Xiao spoke in a deep voice, and after a moment said, "...Such a large-scale mobilization?"

These six short words were like touching the mountain moon's sore spot.

Shan Yue straightened her back, and the scales on her back instantly rose into a row of hard, thick shields as if in self-defense. She immediately retorted in a sharp voice, "What did you say?"

Xue Xiao's gaze remained calm. He raised his head to meet Shan Yue's gaze directly, and said in a gentle voice, "Doctor Cheng has always lived a secluded life and has never liked extravagance—what is his own opinion? Does he want you to spend so much effort and such a grand affair to settle your affairs after your death?"

Shan Yue clenched her fists in her sleeves, her expression stubborn: "I don't need your help! I'll do it myself!"

"It's not a matter of who does it and who doesn't," Xue Xiao shook his head. "We need to consider Doctor Cheng's thoughts and wishes, so he can be laid to rest in peace."

"I don't want to." Shan Yue interrupted Xue Xiao sharply, her eyes still lowered, stubbornly repeating, "I don't want to!"

Shan Yue clenched her fists tightly, her usually neatly trimmed nails digging into her flesh, causing her palms to ache. But she had only one thought in her mind: "Xing Yu is a good person in this world, and he deserves a good end in this world!"

What constitutes a good death in the secular world?
Returning home in glory!

Fallen leaves return to their roots!

The incense has been burning for a hundred years!

go down in history!

He saved the lives of an entire city; he shouldn't be buried in obscurity!
Shan Yue's expression was stubborn. Xue Xiao looked at her for a long time before lowering his eyes and saying nothing more, which meant that he had given in and compromised. Shan Yue took a few deep breaths, and after a long time, her chest slowly calmed down: "If I want to see Zhou Shi tomorrow, I need to go back to the manor to change my clothes."

After offering incense with three sticks, Shan Yue avoided looking at the coffin and strode straight out.

Xue Xiao followed closely behind.

Shan Yue didn't walk fast, but she was always half a step ahead of him, as if deliberately avoiding walking alongside him. After Cheng Xingyu's death, whether he was overthinking or too perceptive, he seemed to feel that everything had returned to the days when Shan Yue first arrived in the capital. He was polite and distant, and an insurmountable chasm stood between the two of them.

Stepping out of the mourning hall, the old locust tree outside the house in East Twelfth Hutong swayed its yellowing leaves in the night.

Beneath the unique blue-tiled roofs and gray walls of the capital city, Xue Xiao followed Shan Yue at a leisurely pace.

Birdsong can be heard at the edge of the sky.

It resembles a hawk or falcon.

It cuts through the sky and the darkness.

Shan Yue stopped in a daze, leaving Xue Xiao with an inscrutable back view.

"I've finished that painting."

With her back to him, Shan Yue pulled out a framed scroll from her bosom and held it tightly in her palm.

“I was originally a lonely person with no destiny, no luck, and no future. I lost my father at a young age and wandered around. You are a person who studies Taoism, so you should know that the fate of a lonely star is inescapable and cannot be broken.”

She thought she had escaped.

My sister has been found.

He met Xue Xiao.

I have a group of trustworthy and happy relatives and friends around me.

The darkness was gradually diluted by the blind joy, making her temporarily forget that she shouldn't have done it in the first place—she had already made a vow before the Bodhisattva that if she could avenge her great enemy, she would dedicate herself to the path of Buddhism and no longer be attached to this mortal world.

She shouldn't have done that.

She shouldn't have started enjoying happiness and even anticipating romance halfway through her journey.

She broke her vow first, so it's no wonder she was dealt a blow when she was happiest.

If it weren't for her, why would Cheng Xingyu have died so young? Doctor Xiao, who came to examine Cheng Xingyu, said that if Cheng Xingyu hadn't been in contact with the highly poisonous herbs in "Qianji Yin" every day, he wouldn't have passed away so soon.

What right did she have to shamelessly forget her hatred and goals, let herself relax, and talk about so-called "love"? — She felt ashamed of herself.

Like a lone boat adrift at sea, just as she was approaching the shallows and about to reach the shore, she was violently slammed back into the abyss by a wave.

Shan Yue turned around and handed the scroll to Xue Xiao: "You wanted your 'Shan Yue'? I've finished painting it. Our debts are now paid off."

Xue Xiao lowered his head and opened the scroll with one hand.

This painting, "Mountain Moon," is not the unfinished painting he saw in the West Chamber that day.

The mountains stretch endlessly, and on the horizon, the crescent moon hangs like a knife.

The bird in my memory was blocked by a sudden dark cloud, leaving only the shadow of it struggling to flap its wings.

In the painting, there is only the mountain and the moon.

There are no birds left.

Xue Xiao gripped the scroll tightly, pursed his lips, but did not speak.

(Don't scold my daughter! Scold me instead!)