Really, I really want to see Yan Yan (from Ming Qin’s perspective)

In Shu.

Despite the scorching summer, the night remains refreshingly cool.

Nestled within a hutong1 not far from the busy streets, a serene tea house has recently opened its doors.

In contrast to its quaint exterior, the bold and dynamic grass script characters of “Hou Sheng Tang” (Hall of Youth) adorn the wooden plaque.

“Ai.”

The door creaks softly, and a woman leans wearily against the entrance of the tea shop, sighing, “This is just too dull.”

A man in the courtyard behind her listens silently, sweeping the ground with a deft hand. The evening breeze tickles his exposed arm, which hangs empty on the left side.

“Ah, I long to escape to the villa and enjoy in some music,” the woman suddenly exclaims, unable to contain her frustration as she stands up abruptly.

Only then does the man speak in a soft voice, “Miss Song, the teahouse is still in the red this month.”

As he looks up, pausing his sweeping, he silently regards Song Shu Qing, causing her heart to skip a beat.

“Okay, okay, okay! Ah Yun, don’t give me that look, I’m not going! I won’t go!” Song Shu Qing throws up her hands in defeat and slumps down, sulking as she fiddles with the abacus on the table. Her stern and dull senior brother always has the upper hand.

“Sister! Brother Ah Yun!” A tall figure pushing a cart comes into view, bearing several white sword scars on her face. Despite this, her bright smile doesn’t make her seem intimidating, but instead adds a hint of madness to her once delicate features.

“Qin Qin, you’re back! Was it tough?” Song Shu Qing waves her hand and approaches the cart, peering at Ming Qin who is carrying bags of tea leaves with concern. “Are you alright? Is it too heavy? Take a break and let me do it, or wait for a bit and I’ll help you move it?”

Her demeanor is a stark contrast to her usual laziness.

“No, no, Sister. You worry too much.” Ming Qin smiles and waves her hand, reassuring her that she’s fine as she hoists two large crates of tea leaves and ascends the stairs without changing her expression.

It was the onset of spring when Song Shu Qing received a plea for help from Ming Qin through a messenger pigeon. She left Cao Yun, who was recuperating from injuries at the tea house, and hastily made her way to a remote mountain village, only to find no trace of her junior sister.

As she anxiously paced back and forth with her medical kit, a seemingly trustworthy hunter tapped her on the shoulder and led Song Shu Qing to a stone house in the woods.

There, she laid her eyes upon a disheveled Ming Qin.

Yes, disheveled.

Ming Qin lay upon a wooden bed with a pallid face, half of her right ear severed, leaving behind a black hole dangling beside her head. Her body was riddled with a tangled web of scars – slashes, cuts, stabs, and bruises, many of which had formed scabs, but some of the deeper wounds still seeped blood, indicating signs of infection.

There wasn’t a single patch of skin on Ming Qin’s body that was larger than a palm and unscathed; she lay there like a discarded rag, unable to move.

“…Sister, you came.”

At the sight of the familiar Song Shu Qing, Ming Qin’s parched lips barely managed a smile that was more pitiful than heartwarming. She strained her lungs to speak and said, “Mission… accomplished.”

Song Shu Qing gazed at her beloved junior sister, who was in such a deplorable state, and felt as though her chest had been blocked. She tightly pressed her lips together and didn’t speak, but forcefully threw down the medical kit, as if releasing her pent-up fury.

She unfurled her bundle, took out clean bandages and needles, and bowed her head to start suturing the shattered body in front of her.

“…Senior sister, don’t be so quiet,” said Ming Qin, propping up her half-opened eyelids, “it’s creepy.”

“Be quiet!” Song Shu Qing couldn’t help but scold the person in front of her, but her movements remained gentle as she said, “You stupid donkey.”

Ah, I knew senior sister would be mad.

Ming Qin watched her senior sister’s rare anger and obediently stopped talking, allowing her to tend to her injuries.

Meanwhile, she couldn’t help but think to herself that she didn’t intend to cause any trouble.

Back then, if she had strategized like a Tai Chi master, drawing out the skirmish, she might have been able to outsmart her pursuers. Even if it meant facing death, she wouldn’t have been reduced to this pitiful state.

She was willing to lay down her life for Murong Yan, even if it meant facing a gruesome demise.

It was just that, Xiao Tai…

That damn Xiao Tai.

『Eleven years ago, I took the life of the County Princess’s dear mother, and now, eleven years later, I’ll take the life of the County Princess’s loyal shadow guard. It’s a curious sensation.』

To her surprise, that accursed beast whispered the vilest words into her ear with a cold, detached tone.

Her sanity shattered instantly, as if a fire was lit inside her chest, threatening to consume her.

She abandoned any concern for conserving her strength, allowing her raw emotions to guide her sword strikes with ferocity.

She believed that even if she suffered two or three painful blows in return, as long as she could land a decisive blow on her opponent, it would be worth it.

They clashed with their swords, both covered in fine cuts and wounds. Running out of strength, she relied solely on her sheer willpower to keep fighting, slowly losing ground.

In the end, she clenched her teeth and charged forward like a rabid dog when Xiao Tai swung his blade towards her head, unleashing all her strength to break the man’s tendons with a single sword strike, even though she lost her right ear in the process.

As a result, the furious Xiao Tai struck her hard and sent her flying into the lake, but she felt that it was a small price to pay.

Initially, she thought that being unable to swim meant her demise was imminent.

However, with her mission accomplished, she had nothing left to hold on to and surrendered to the murky waters, closing her eyes and letting her body sink.

But to her surprise, when she reopened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by neither soldiers from the underworld nor winged birdmen. Instead, the worried hunter couple was treating her numerous wounds with medicine, not knowing where to begin.

Silent and immobile, she was acutely conscious of the wounds riddling her body. She had resolved to let the generous hunter couple dispose of her body as they saw fit, prepared to embrace death’s embrace. Then, she beheld the hunter’s wife walking over with a swaddled newborn in her arms.

The little one wriggled and cooed, their delicate fingers curling around hers.

Gently, reassuringly.

The vigor of life, gentle yet tenacious.

She determined to endure just a bit longer.

Ming Qin submitted herself to the tender care of the earnest hunter couple, despite the noticeably inferior quality of the herbs they used to treat her injuries. Through a miraculous recovery, she patiently waited for her familiar senior sister to arrive.

When Song Shu Qing arrived, she cut the thread with a sullen face and looked over to the injured figure who had fallen asleep before her. Standing up, she bowed deeply to the couple standing aside, saying, “I am truly grateful for the kindness you have shown to my junior sister. I apologize for the trouble we have caused you.”

As she reached into her sleeve to retrieve the silver coins, the man waved his hand in a panic and said, “My lord, please do not be so polite. Miss Ming has already been very generous to us, and has paid for her lodging before. She has given us more than enough.”

“Yes,” the woman holding the child agreed, “If it is agreeable to you, please allow Miss Ming to stay until she recovers from her injuries. Our humble cottage is at her disposal.”

After expressing her gratitude once again, Song Shu Qing turned her attention back to Ming Qin’s care. The two women stayed in the stone house for over two weeks before departing to meet Cao Yun in Shu.

Ming Qin, now a tea house attendant, finished organizing the freshly plucked tea leaves and ascended to the attic where her bed was situated. The air still carried the delicate aroma of tea leaves, which filled her with a sense of longing.

It was as though a graceful figure had left an indelible impression on her.

Whether it was examining the tea leaves she could never entirely comprehend, or the amber tea that appeared in the porcelain cup when she poured water over them, or even the tea utensils neatly arranged beside her, each one stirred up emotions within her heart.

Having completed her mission, she should be able to unwind leisurely.

With Murong Wan’s accession to the throne, there was nothing left to worry about in the imperial capital.

Despite Murong Yan being reunited with Prince Yu and her family and having reasons to be content, Ming Qin’s thoughts often drift towards her.

Placing her hand on her chest, Ming Qin experiences an emptiness that even the most delectable dishes fail to satiate.

Really, she really wants to see Yan Yan.