Chapter 539 — Tea at the White Crane Waystation

CHAPTER 539

Tea at the White Crane Waystation

A small tea table stood in the middle of the road, and nobody was sitting at it.

The carriage slowed beside it. Four young disciples in white robes stood at the edges of the waystation yard, bowing in the stiff way of people who had been told exactly how deeply to do it. A white crane flag hung from the pole above them, stirring in the winter wind.

“It's him,” one of them whispered.

“He's thinner than the story.”

“Is that the face? The one that was ruined?”

“Shh! They said it healed! Hearing a hundred times is not as good as seeing once!”

“…”

Shi Feng stepped down from the carriage. Sima Lan came after him with her account book closed. Ling Qingzhu stayed inside. The curtain moved once and then lay still.

A woman walked out of the waystation hall.

Lu Qingxue wore a white robe with a grey steward's sash across her chest. She held a tray with two cups and a pot of tea. She took care not to spill the tea, though the cups rattled faintly against the tray.

“Shi Feng,” Lu Qingxue said. She put the tray on the table. “I didn't want to stop you in the road. I know it isn't proper. But the station register said you'd pass today, and I…”

She stopped. Her fingers pressed together.

“You're the steward here,” Shi Feng said.

“Of the southern waystations,” Lu Qingxue said. “Han Zheng was sent to count grain at the northern post. For counting the wrong things.” She tried to smile, and failed halfway. “The elders asked whether I would manage the border roads. I said yes. I wanted to learn how to do something properly.”

“That's good,” Shi Feng said.

“Will you have some tea?” Lu Qingxue asked.

He took the cup. It was warm, plain green tea, and it had been made well. He drank half and set it down.

“Thank you,” Shi Feng said. “It's good tea.”

Lu Qingxue's expression eased at the praise. She looked down before he could mistake her relief for a request.

“I wanted to say goodbye properly,” Lu Qingxue said. “The last time, I was in a hurry. I said sorry, and then I stood there like a fool. I think…” Her voice dropped. “I think I wanted you to say something. And you were right not to.”

“I heard you then,” Shi Feng said.

“I know,” Lu Qingxue said, drawing a breath. “White Crane's recruiters won't come near your family again. I wrote that into the station orders myself. Qingshi will be… it'll be different, when you arrive. They've been decorating for four days. I thought you should be warned.”

“Thank you for the warning,” Shi Feng said.

“If there's anything I could still—” Lu Qingxue began, and stopped. Her ears turned red. “No. That's not what I came for. I'm sorry. I keep…”

“Lu Qingxue,” Shi Feng said.

She looked up.

He didn't raise his voice or soften it. Shi Feng wanted to end this cleanly. He had accepted her apology, but he wouldn't encourage her to keep waiting for more.

“You apologised once, and I accepted it,” Shi Feng said. “You don't owe me anything now. I don't owe you anything either. That's a good place to leave it.”

For a moment her lips trembled. Then, slowly, she nodded.

“Then I won't ask again,” Lu Qingxue said. “Be well, Shi Feng.”

“You too,” Shi Feng said. “Be well.”

She bowed, the full bow of a steward to a core disciple of a Great Sect, and held it a little too long. When she straightened, her eyes were wet, but she kept her back straight and she didn't wipe them.

Shi Feng turned and walked to the carriage. He did not look behind him. Neither did she.

Sima Lan walked beside him for three steps before she spoke.

“She said sorry in the right place and at the right length,” Sima Lan said, very quietly. “It's a pity it took her two years.”

“Sima Lan,” Shi Feng said.

“I heard her,” Sima Lan said, keeping her voice low. “That's all. I won't bring it up again.”

She climbed into the carriage first and took her seat near the door. Old Soot, who had watched the whole scene from her shoulder, coughed a small puff of soot.

Shi Feng put one hand on the carriage frame.

Inside, Ling Qingzhu sat with her veil tied and her hands folded in her lap. The curtain had fallen straight. She looked at him for exactly as long as it took him to climb in.

“Done?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“Done,” Shi Feng said.

That was all. She didn't ask what had been said, and he didn't offer. Ling Qingzhu moved her cloak aside to make room for him. She seemed relieved when he sat down, but kept her eyes on the window.

Ling Qingzhu looked out of the window. Shi Feng sat across from her and said nothing more. He didn't need to.

Wan Hu clicked his tongue. The grey horses leaned into the road, and the white crane flag dropped behind them.

By dusk the carriage reached the last ridge before the valley. Shi Feng lifted the curtain. Down in the hollow lay Qingshi Town, small and grey, as he remembered it.

Except that every roof, every gate and every lamp pole in it was hung with red.