By all logic, Ajiu shouldn't be growing so close to someone like Tanxiang, a Velvet Shade disciple. Tanxiang …
By all logic, Ajiu shouldn't be growing so close to someone like Tanxiang, a Velvet Shade disciple.
Tanxiang is a restless spirit—flamboyant and flirtatious, yet somehow careless. She appears suddenly and vanishes even quicker, leaving behind only a faint, lingering fragrance that stirs bittersweet longing. Take today, for instance: it was clearly Tanxiang who invited Ajiu to a quiet drink in her quarters, yet she still hasn't arrived.
Ajiu has silently wrestled with her frustrations toward Tanxiang countless times. Yet each time, she catches herself thinking—after all, this is how Velvet Shade disciples are. Perhaps she's off meeting some secret beloved. What's the point in resenting her? And yet, inexplicably, it's Tanxiang who stirs the deeper waves of annoyance in her heart.
One day, beneath the blossom-laden tree at Heaven's Pier, Ajiu witnessed Tanxiang trying to recruit a dashing wanderer into Velvet Shade. She intervened, gently urging the wanderer to join the Masked Troupe instead. But to her surprise, after that day Tanxiang began shadowing her, lingering close—sometimes commenting on songs and dances, other times rehearsing scripts at her side. Like twin blossoms, they grew inseparable, their days entwined.
Within the Masked Troupe, mastery of dance and music is prized above all. But for Velvet Shade, song and dance carry a weight of emotion and longing. Ajiu usually heard Tanxiang's perspectives that diverged beautifully from the sober teachings of the Masked Troupe.
Theatrical styles and customs may differ, but their spirit is unified. When Tanxiang critiques a performance or a script, she seems to shed her usual languid charm, revealing a keener, more vibrant intensity—almost as if she were someone else entirely. In those fleeting moments, Ajiu would find herself quietly gazing at her, struck by Tanxiang's complexity, leaving her heart guessing and yearning.
Noticing her stare, Tanxiang looked up, a knowing smile playing at her lips: "Why do you look at me like that, sweetheart? Did I say something wrong?"
Ajiu blinked, caught off guard. "No, you're right... It's just that when I see you like this, I find myself speechless."
Tanxiang laughed then, a soft, genuine sound that seemed to melt into Ajiu's very soul as she leaned in—willingly close—no matter how she tried to gently push her away.
Everyone in the Masked Troupe said Tanxiang's charm was merely a flirtatious trick—a playful game Velvet Shade disciples liked to play on unsuspecting Masked Troupe novices like Ajiu. Yet every time Tanxiang extended an invitation, all it took was one glance into those softly smiling, cat-like eyes for Ajiu's resolve to melt away.
Well, perhaps it was for the best. To walk the world and taste its joys and sorrows—that was part of a Masked Troupe disciple's true cultivation.
Outside the window, flower shadows danced in gentle chaos, petals drifting around the trees, stirred again by the whisper of the breeze.
Ajiu frowned, eyes fixed on the dense storybook before her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't focus. The love and longing in the words seemed to rise and scatter into the sky, while her heart was filled with something altogether different—something tangled and restless, impossible to unravel.
Her gaze lifted from the crowded lines to a solitary petal drifting slowly outside, floating down to rest on the ground. Why had she arrived so late today? Was she not coming at all?
Enough, enough! Ajiu scolded herself, shaking her head firmly. She couldn't let her thoughts wander this way, not again.
—No. The story before her, the script in her hands—that's what truly mattered.
"Ding-ling, ding-ling."
The familiar jingle caught her ear, and she looked up without thinking. Tanxiang brushed stray petals from her robes, her smile gentle and radiant, as graceful as the first time they met—like a living statue carved from porcelain.
In her hand, a single pure white pear blossom, carrying with it a soft, fragrant snowfall.
Spring stretches long, and busy swallows soar across the sky.
If she could spend a lifetime beside the woman in front of her, then how much of their bond was impatience, tenderness, admiration, or love—it no longer made any difference. In the end, it was simply enough.