Chapter 7 Each One Well

Yue Zi An arrived at noon. “No candles at noon” was an unbreakable rule, yet Su Qing couldn’t understand why they had come to the teahouse so early. The only reason they’d ventured to the Demon Market at dawn was because daytime access wasn’t expressly forbidden, and they needed to leave before sunrise to avoid disrupting the human world’s order.

But why had Yue Zi An come this early?

“You seem exceptionally early today, miss!” Su Qing propped her chin on her hand, her gaze lingering on the sorrow in Yue Zi An’s eyes.

Yue Zi An’s eyes flickered as she offered a bitter smile. “Today is his wedding day.”

Mu Qing Shi sat across from Su Qing, sipping tea while watching her, curious how she would comfort this heartbroken woman. Jiu Jiu, meanwhile, kept her head down, silently fiddling with something.

Su Qing disliked the look in Mu Qing Shi’s eyes—warm yet unreal, beautiful yet startling. Even she found herself momentarily dazed by them.

But more pressing matters demanded attention.

“So the reason you agreed so readily was because I calculated the timing perfectly. But Zi An, what if my calculations had been wrong?” Su Qing spoke lightly.

Yue Zi An lifted her teacup, took a delicate sip, and smiled. “You’re a master—how could you miscalculate? But if you had, I would have left Chang’an forever and never returned.”

Su Qing paused. Leaving while still remembering—wouldn’t that mean spending the rest of her life tormented by memories? Better to forget before departing.

She chuckled and continued, “You’re right. In one more hour, I’ll light the Karma Candle for you.” With that, she called Jiu Jiu to hurry the waiter, complaining about the delay.

The moment Jiu Jiu left, Mu Qing Shi spoke.

“Deep down, Miss Zi An still wants to believe in Xie Lang, doesn’t she?”

His words were like a stone breaking the calm surface of a lake, stirring a ripple across Yue Zi An’s face.

Su Qing didn’t understand what Mu Qing Shi was playing at. Xie Lang was about to marry—no matter how beautiful their past promises had been, they couldn’t be fulfilled now. Wasn’t this just rubbing salt in the wound?

“Your words touch upon my deepest longing, sir. But it will never come true.”

Su Qing hadn’t expected Yue Zi An to admit it, yet she understood. In Yue Zi An’s heart, Xie Lang would always be that stammering, blushing young master she’d first met. But she had underestimated reality.

Mu Qing Shi sipped his tea, violet light swirling in his eyes. “In that case, it’s better to forget.”

Yue Zi An smiled faintly. “You’re a perceptive man, sir.”

Logically, having witnessed so much human love and hatred, Su Qing should have understood Yue Zi An best. But she had no memories—no profound, hidden feelings of her own. This life was entirely new to her. Though she’d observed much, she’d never experienced it firsthand in this lifetime, so some things eluded her grasp where Mu Qing Shi saw clearly.

Even her insights about Le Hen’s experiences came solely from knowing her past. Thus, while she appeared wise, her understanding relied entirely on others’ experiences.

Yet now, something clicked.

Mu Qing Shi meant that if Yue Zi An chose to believe in Xie Lang, even if they couldn’t be together, at least his love for her would remain undeniable. But if she couldn’t believe, then nothing mattered—better to forget.

Su Qing wondered how Mu Qing Shi could know Xie Lang’s thoughts. After pondering for a while, she concluded it was probably because they were both men.  

When Jiu Jiu returned from the waiter, her face was sullen. Mu Qing Shi asked her what was wrong, and after hesitating, she finally spoke.  

“The waiter said the Xie family’s young master from the East Market is getting married. They’ve set up banquets in all the teahouses and taverns, saying it’s for ‘sharing the joy’ and letting everyone partake in the celebration!”  

At these words, Yue Zi An stiffened before forcing a bitter smile. “What I longed for was never meant to be mine.”  

Su Qing sighed helplessly. “Whatever Zi An wishes, Su Qing will make sure it’s done.”  

“Thank you, miss,” Yue Zi An replied softly.  

Because of Xie Lang’s wedding, the dishes were exceptionally lavish and free of charge. Yet, apart from Jiu Jiu, the others barely touched their food.  

But since Jiu Jiu was just a child, no one blamed her.  

Half an hour after the meal, the curtains in the room were drawn. Jiu Jiu prepared the Karma Candle and the White Jade Wolf Hair Brush, then placed the Sleep Incense into the Floating Lotus Celadon Censer. Once Mu Qing Shi stepped outside, she lit the incense.  

As the fragrant smoke curled upward, the woman in green on the couch gently closed her eyes. Su Qing lifted the White Jade Wolf Hair Brush with her right hand and slowly traced the candle in accordance with the ripples transmitted by her left.  

She and Xie Lang had once pledged an oath of white-haired devotion. But one day, amid a raging storm, a withered branch snapped, burying the Red Silk of their past and the Fleeting Promise they had made. That turn before the bronze mirror—whose eyes had it reflected? The snow lay thick, covering all traces of their former ties.  

Once the candle flame extinguished, there would be no further entanglement in this lifetime.  

When the Sleep Incense burned out and the Karma Candle dimmed, the woman on the couch opened her eyes—soft as autumn rain on fallen petals—smiling, but no longer with lingering affection.  

“Miss, do you recognize Zi An?”  

Su Qing smiled faintly. “I do.”  

“I should go back now,” Zi An said with a gentle smile.  

Su Qing helped her up and pointed north. “Beyond Chang’an City lies your origin.”  

Yue Zi An seemed puzzled. “But I know Chang’an City well.”  

Su Qing’s gaze flickered as she murmured, “Go north. You’ll find happiness there.”  

Zi An didn’t argue further, for when she pushed the door open, she caught sight of Xie Lang downstairs, clad in crimson wedding robes. A sudden wave of detachment rose in her heart.  

“You’re right, miss. The people here—I don’t like them.”  

She didn’t understand why she disliked that groom. She didn’t even know him, so why this displeasure? Perhaps it was simply a matter of incompatible fates.  

Step by step, Yue Zi An descended the stairs, her willow-green gauze dress piercing Xie Lang’s vision like a blade.  

He had only come here to toast guests as his father demanded, never expecting to encounter her. Surely, she must be heartbroken.  

But now that she was here, he had no choice but to offer her a cup of wine.  

She accepted it and drank slowly, her smile distant and cold, as if they had never met. “Congratulations on your joyous union, young master.”  

Xie Lang stared at her unfamiliar gaze, momentarily stunned. Had she truly forgotten him? Or was she pretending not to know him?  

A suffocating tightness gripped his chest, yet he forced a smile. “Xie Lang thanks the miss.”  

His voice was strained and heavy, but he couldn’t say more. At this moment, the words lodged in his throat like a fishbone.

Once deeply in love, now strangers passing by—Su Qing saw the bitterness and disbelief in Xie Lang’s eyes and began to understand why Mu Qing Shi had once said, “Why couldn’t you wait just a few more days?” Xie Lang was a man of deep affection, yet bound by circumstances beyond his control.  

But since he had no choice, perhaps it was better to forget.  

Yue Zi An walked out of the teahouse without a trace of nostalgia, not even remembering his name. The feelings she once had for him were nothing like when they first met—now, there was only a faint disgust in her heart.  

Perhaps she was tired, weary, forgotten, and let go—so now, she simply despised him.  

Su Qing thought Xie Lang looked truly pitiful now.  

Struggling to maintain composure, yet already wounded beyond repair.