Ginkgo Courtyard
As dusk settled like ink slowly being ground, carrying the unique richness and coolness of autumn, it quietly painted the sky above Chang'an. The last ray of golden-red sunset lingered reluctantly on the towering eaves of the Yaotian Organization's courtyard, outlining a warm border on the dark blue-green roof tiles.
In the center of the courtyard, an ancient ginkgo tree stands like a canopy, its fan-shaped leaves tinged with varying shades of golden yellow. When the wind blows, countless tiny fans flutter down, carpeting the ground with a thick layer that rustles underfoot, like autumn whispering.
Yi Xing sat under this ginkgo tree.
Beneath him lay a softly cushioned bamboo wheelchair, a brocade blanket covering his knees, upon which a few golden ginkgo leaves lay. His excessively long, pale, even somewhat delicate fingers picked up a warm, smooth black jade chess piece and gently placed it on the stone chessboard before him. On the board, black and white pieces intertwined, forming a complex and beautiful pattern, like a night sky strewn with stars, or the threads of fate woven together. His movements were slow and precise, the sound of the piece landing crisp and clear like a jade chime, exceptionally distinct in the tranquil courtyard.
His face was handsome yet pale, carrying the fragility unique to someone who had been ill for a long time. His long, thick eyelashes cast small shadows on his bloodless cheeks when they fell. Only his eyes, fixed on the chessboard, were dark and calm, like a deep pool, reflecting the lines of the chessboard and the light and shadow of the pieces being placed, as if they contained a vast and intricate universe that was completely different from his delicate appearance.
A cool autumn breeze swept by, swirling up a few fallen leaves, and he subconsciously pulled the thin blanket over his knees closer, letting out a barely audible cough.
"I knew you'd be here getting some fresh air."
A clear, slightly reproachful voice rang out from behind. Without turning around, Yi Xing knew it was Gongsun Li. She walked over with light steps, her signature soft rabbit ears, born of her demon bloodline, swaying gently with her movements. In her hands she carried a mahogany tray with two celadon teacups on it, the rising steam carrying the sweet aroma of longan and red dates.
"Sister Yuhuan just brewed longan and red date tea, which is the best for replenishing qi and blood." Gongsun Li carefully placed a cup of tea on the stone table next to Yixing, then picked up another cup and sat down on the stone bench opposite him, tilting her head to look him over. "Look at you, your hands are freezing. I've told you so many times that it gets cool in the evening and you should wear more clothes, but you just don't listen."
Her tone was full of undisguised concern, like the warm sunshine of spring. Yi Xing raised his eyes and met her bright eyes, a faint smile curving his pale lips.
"Thank you, Sister Ali. I was just... captivated by the autumn scenery." His voice was clear and crisp, with a slight hoarseness from not speaking for a long time, like a stream flowing over pebbles.
"What's so beautiful about autumn colors? The yard's full of fallen leaves, you can't even sweep them all up." A cheerful and energetic voice broke in. Pei Qinhu's tall figure appeared beside the pillar. He had just finished practicing his martial arts, wearing only a sleeveless short-sleeved shirt that revealed his well-defined, bronze arms. A thin layer of sweat clung to his forehead, making him look like a vigorous young tiger. He strode over and, with remarkable ease, extended his hand, his warm, even slightly burning palm enveloping Yi Xing's slightly cool hand resting on the armrest of his wheelchair.
"Look how cold it is!" Pei Qinhu frowned and began to rub the ice vigorously with his large hands, trying to transfer warmth to it. "Xing'er, you really need to practice more with me! I'll teach you a few ways to strengthen your body, I guarantee they'll be more effective than drinking those bitter medicines!"
His movements were clumsy, and he didn't control his strength well, causing Yi Xing's fingers to sting. Yi Xing frowned slightly, but didn't pull his hand away, only helplessly calling out in a low voice, "Brother Tiger..."
"Ah Hu! Be gentle!" Gongsun Li immediately stopped him, her rabbit ears perking up in her anxiety. "How can Yi Xing be compared to someone as thick-skinned as you?"
Pei Qinhu then sheepishly released his grip, scratched his spiky short hair, and chuckled, "I was just in a hurry!"
Just then, a delicate herbal fragrance wafted on the breeze. Yang Yuhuan, carrying her pipa, gracefully entered the courtyard. Dressed in simple, elegant clothes, her face was exquisitely beautiful, her temperament gentle and serene, like a magnolia blooming under the moon. Seeing the scene before her, she smiled gently, her voice like pearls falling on a jade plate: "Ah Hu meant well. Yixing, is the tea still warm? Drink some while it's hot to warm yourself up."
Yi Xing obediently picked up the teacup and sipped it slowly. The warm, slightly sweet liquid slid down his throat, indeed dispelling some of the chill, and even the weakness that always lingered in his bones seemed to lessen a bit. He looked up and met three pairs of concerned eyes, feeling a slight warmth in his heart.
In this world of Yao, though he was the weakest, he received almost instinctive care and affection from everyone. The profound care of his master Ming Shiyin, the gentle consideration of his sister Yang Yuhuan, the lively concern of his sister Gongsun Li, and the clumsy yet sincere enthusiasm of Pei Qinhu... all of these were like a warm cocoon carefully wrapped around him, allowing his cold-sensitive body to find a safe haven in the turbulent city of Chang'an.
He knew he couldn't roam freely like Ah Hu, nor dance across Chang'an like Ah Li, nor soothe hearts with music like Sister Yu Huan. All he could rely on was this small world of chess, the endless variations between the black and white pieces. He hoped to use his hands to protect this hard-won warmth.
"I'm fine, everyone don't need to worry," he said softly, his gaze returning to the chessboard, his fingertips unconsciously tracing a smooth white piece. "I'm just waiting for Master."
As if in response to his words, a tall, slender figure silently appeared in the shadows of the corridor. Ming Shiyin walked in, draped in the deepening twilight, his crimson robe fluttering in the evening breeze, the deep red mark on his forehead gleaming with a faint, mysterious golden light in the remaining daylight.
His gaze first swept over the chessboard, a barely perceptible hint of approval flashing in his deep eyes, before settling on Yi Xing, whose handsome face, always carrying a touch of aloofness and inscrutableness, seemed to have softened a little.
"Get ready, Yi Xing." He stopped in front of Yi Xing, his voice deep and magnetic, like the vibration of an ancient zither string. "You will come with me to the palace banquet tonight."
Yi Xing's fingers, which were holding the chess pieces, paused slightly. He had always disliked such social gatherings filled with toasts and empty formalities; the noise and unpleasant atmosphere there always made him uncomfortable. He raised his eyes, a hint of barely perceptible doubt and resistance in them.
"Master, why me?" His voice was very soft, like a feather falling.
Ming Shiyin's lips curved into a faint smile, a smile that held a multitude of unspoken meanings. "Because among tonight's guests is Lord Di Renjie." He leaned slightly forward, his fingertip lightly touching a seemingly insignificant corner of the chessboard, where the previously stalemated situation subtly shifted. "And you need to see him with your own eyes."
Yi Xing fell silent. He understood his master's intention. Di Renjie, the Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, represented the public order and law of Chang'an, a figure that underground organizations like Yao Tian, operating in the gray area, needed to keep a close eye on. His master wanted him to "read" people, just as he would read a chess game.
He lowered his eyes and stared at the spot where his master had just pointed. After a moment, he picked up a white jade chess piece and placed it steadily in that crucial position.
"despair."
A clear, crisp sound echoed leisurely in the twilight courtyard, like a resolute response or the announcement that a game of chess had begun.
"good."
He responded softly.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
