Green Waterfall in its Youth 8

Shi Qing was just taking Shuangshuang off his shoulder when he heard this, and his heart sank heavily. He subconsciously tightened his grip on Shuangshuang, and the little one, in pain, squirmed and broke free from his hand, but didn't run far. Instead, she climbed back onto his shoulder along his sleeve and rubbed against his cheek anxiously.

"Then... what about Yuanxi?" He heard his own voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something. "He held on, didn't he?"

After a long while, Hongyue pursed her lips and nodded.

"Then I'll go find him now!" Behind her, Hongyue watched his retreating figure, her eyes filled with complex emotions, which ultimately turned into a barely audible sigh.

Shi Qing ran very fast, the wind and snow stinging his face, yet he felt a warmth spreading through his body. Shuangshuang clung tightly to his clothes on his shoulders, their squeaking sounds ripped apart by the wind. His mind was a jumbled mess, one moment showing Yuan Xi's possibly pale and weak appearance, the next his usual lazy smile.

It's alright, he thought. As long as the person is back, as long as he's alive, nothing else matters. He can stay with him, just like he said.

The entrance to the Ghost Market was still dark and damp. Shi Qing navigated the narrow passage with practiced ease, heading towards the winding staircase. Yuan Xi's door was ajar, letting in a dim, yellowish light.

"Wonseok!" he said breathlessly as he pushed the door open.

The room was emptier than when he last came, with almost no extra items. On the only stone bed, a person lay, covered with a thin, old gray quilt.

"Yuan Xi?" Shi Qing slowed her pace, a strange unease creeping into her heart. Why is it so quiet?

He walked to the bedside.

Yuan Xi's eyes were closed, his face was an almost transparent pale white, and his lips were completely bloodless. His breathing was extremely weak, and his chest barely rose and fell. One hand, which was exposed outside the blanket, rested at his side, his fingers slightly curled, and the fingertips were bluish.

The color drained from Shi Qing's face instantly.

He reached out his hand, trembling, to touch Yuanxi's face, but stopped abruptly just before he touched him, turning instead to check his breath.

The breath was so faint that it was almost imperceptible, with only a very shallow, cool airflow.

"Yuan—" Shi Qing's throat seemed to be choked, unable to utter a complete sound. His legs went weak, and he knelt heavily beside the stone bed, his knees hitting the cold ground with a dull thud.

Shuangshuang slid off his limp shoulder and jumped onto the bed, anxiously circling around Yuanxi's face, touching his chin and cheeks with their little noses, their squeaking sounds particularly sharp and piercing in the silent stone chamber.

But the person on the bed did not react at all.

Like a corpse.

"..." Shi Qing finally managed to squeeze out a voice, hoarse and broken, "You promised me you would come back, and this is what you did?" He suddenly grabbed Yuan Xi's cold hand and held it tightly in his arms, trying to warm it with his body heat, but the chill went straight into his heart through his palm.

“Yuanxi, wake up and look at me…” He pressed his forehead against their clasped hands, his voice choked with emotion, “I’m not angry anymore. If you don’t want the candy, you don’t have to eat it. If you don’t want the wooden sign, you don’t have to… Please don’t be like this… Say something to me…”

The only sounds in the stone chamber were his desperate whispers and the mournful creaking of their two feet.

Outside the door, Hongyue, who had arrived at some unknown time, leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching this scene, her eyes red-rimmed. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she swallowed it all back.

It's best not to say anything if you're not sure.

Shi Qing stood quietly by the bedside, like a clay sculpture whose soul had been taken away. It wasn't until several unfamiliar disciples of the Nine Schools entered and whispered about moving Yuan Xi to a warmer, more easily cared-for place that he seemed startled, his eyes slowly shifting.

He watched as they carefully lifted the body, which seemed to have only a thin layer of life left, their movements as gentle as if afraid of shattering an ice sculpture. His gaze was fixed on that pale, almost transparent face, until the figure disappeared into the shadows outside the door. He remained in that forward-leaning posture, with his hand slightly outstretched, as if trying to grasp something, or as if bound to the spot by invisible ropes.

The stone chamber was now empty, save for his own heavy breathing and the faint sounds of his two companions tossing and turning restlessly on the empty bed.

Just as the disciples carrying the person were about to leave completely, Yuanxi's drooping arm accidentally bumped lightly against the door frame. A small, dark object slipped from between his slightly curled fingers and fell to the ground with a soft "tap".

They carried it to their owner, Shi Qing looked at it, and lowered her eyes.

It was that wooden plaque. He had carved it himself and forced it on Yuan Xi in the ghost market passage—a "peace charm."

The edges of the wooden plaque were stained with a dry, barely perceptible dark color, as if it had been gripped for too long and had become damp with sweat or something else. On the plaque itself, several deep cracks were clearly visible—not carved lines, but marks left by someone squeezing it with immense, almost spasmodic force.

Shi Qing slowly, very slowly, bent over and picked up the wooden plaque. The cracks were rough and sharp against his palm.

He stared at the cracks for a long time.

In the dim candlelight, Shi Qing frowned and closed her eyes, her heart aching so badly she couldn't straighten up; the cracks in her chest resembled the lines of a broken heart.

"……fraud."

He finally spoke, his voice very soft, even softer than the annoying willow catkins of early summer. In the deathly silent stone chamber, it sounded even more empty than Shuangshuang's soft cries.

"In the end, didn't I still have to come to you?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the tension that had been building up for days, the exhaustion from running, the immense fear and weightlessness seemed to find a breach in the dam. A wave of dizziness suddenly hit him, and the dim candlelight before his eyes began to distort and stretch.

Shi Qing swayed, and before she could even reach the bedside, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the stone bed that still retained Yuan Xi's cold aura and faint medicinal scent.

The moment my body touched the hard bed, darkness surged in like a tidal wave, instantly engulfing all senses.

...

Shi Qing didn't know how long she had slept.

There were no dreams, only a heavy and peaceful void, until a sudden, rustling sound of a door being pushed open pulled him out of the abyss.

Before he was fully conscious, his body felt the unique chill of the stone chamber and the hardness of the bed beneath him. He frowned and struggled to open his eyelids, which seemed glued together. His vision was initially blurred, with only a faint glow coming in from outside the door—whether it was dawn or lamplight, he couldn't tell.

Who else would come here? Is it Sister Hongyue? Or other disciples of the Nine Streams Sect?

A few thoughts flashed through his muddled mind. He struggled to sit up, but found that his bones ached and he felt weak all over, especially his neck and back, which had been in a stiff position for too long.

Shi Qing struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, shook his groggy head, and his vision gradually cleared. The stone chamber was empty except for him and Shuangshuang, who was squatting beside him, looking at him with worried eyes.

The door opened again, this time clearer, with a slightly impatient force, as if the person outside was tripped up by something.

Shi Qing staggered down from the stone bed.

He walked unsteadily toward the simple wooden door. His hand had just risen, before it even touched the rough door panel—

"Squeak—"

The door was pushed open rather rudely from the outside.

A figure, bringing with it brighter light from outside and a bitter medicinal smell, blocked the doorway.

Shi Qing's hand froze in mid-air, her face still heavy with sleepiness and a dazed look as she was caught off guard by a pair of familiar eyes.

Those eyes were no longer the tightly closed and pale ones he had seen before he closed his eyes; they were open. Although the bottom of their eyes was bloodshot, filled with an overwhelming weariness, and there were deep dark circles under their eyelids, their gaze was somewhat unfocused and unfocused, as if they had just struggled out of a long nightmare and had not yet fully regained their spirits.

But they were open.

She was looking at him with a slight frown, a hint of impatience, a touch of confusion, and a complex mix of emotions that were hard to describe.

Their eyes met.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Only the sudden, excited squeaking sounds of the two figures filled the stone chamber, along with the faint, distant clamor of the Ghost Market outside the door.

Yuan Xi's lips moved, and he spoke first. His voice was hoarse and dry, his breath weak, yet it carried a hint of his habitual teasing tone: "What are you doing?" He paused, his gaze sweeping over Shi Qing's disheveled hair and the lingering sleep marks on her face, his brows furrowing even more as he slowly finished the sentence, "Blocking the door... not letting me in?"

His body leaned against the door frame, unsteady on his feet, as if he might slip off at any moment. His face was as pale as paper, his lips bloodless, and only in his open eyes, which were staring at Shi Qing, did a faint, weary light flicker.

But the light exists.

Shi Qing saw it.

He stood frozen in place, his blood seemingly rushing to his head in an instant, only to freeze again the next second. His mouth was open, but no sound came out; only his pupils trembled violently, reflecting the figure standing there in the doorway—a figure that seemed about to vanish at any moment, yet was undeniably real.

"You...you're back." Shi Qing said blankly, causing the person in front of him to tremble and chuckle softly, his face once again displaying the familiar expression.

It wasn't until he felt pressure on his scalp, accompanied by a slightly cool sensation, that Shi Qing finally came to his senses. Looking up, he saw his own hair even more disheveled in Yuan Xi's smiling eyes. Immediately afterward, Yuan Xi gently pushed him aside, making room for him to pass through, and entered the room.

Shi Qing's gaze never left him, watching him lift Shuangshuang up and place her in a higher position, then sit on the bed and pat the spot beside him, his intentions clear.

After Shi Qing walked over, Yuan Xi said, "You're back."

His tone still betrayed an undeniable weariness.

"..." Shi Qing pursed her lips, her brows gradually furrowing.

So bland.

It wasn't what he expected. Shouldn't they say something...?

A cool sensation covered the back of Shi Qing's hand, interrupting her thoughts.

Won-seok: "Do you have a mirror?"

"?" Although he didn't know why he blurted out such a sentence out of the blue, since Yuan Xi wanted it, Shi Qing would just give it to him.

Yuan Xi took the bronze mirror and carefully examined his face, which was so white it was almost transparent, with blue veins visible beneath the skin. He looked at it from left to right, his brows furrowing more and more as he looked. He touched his face, his tone full of confusion: "Strange, Shi Qing, why do I feel like my face is so white, like a corpse?"

Upon hearing this, Shi Qing, who had been intently watching the subtle changes in his expression, suddenly smiled. Then, she naturally straightened his slightly disheveled collar and replied earnestly with a calm and even slightly serious tone, "Yuan Xi, what are you thinking about?"

He tilted his head slightly, revealing a faint smile that was a mixture of sadness and tenderness.

"You were a corpse to begin with."