Chapter 93 — Until the Road Calls

CHAPTER 93

Until the Road Calls

Shi Feng returned with the ordinary sword still whole. A morning of Iron River practice had left his wrists warm and his thoughts quiet.

Ling Qingzhu noticed the new weapon before he reached the kitchen.

“You bought a sword?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“Unless the seller gave me a very narrow shovel,” Shi Feng replied.

She held out her hand. He passed it over in the scabbard, watching her fingers settle around the handle.

She drew just enough steel to inspect the edge. Her expression stayed calm, but she didn't handle it like someone afraid of cutting herself. Shi Feng noticed that and kept the thought to himself.

“It isn't a refined artifact,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“I didn't pay a refined artifact's price,” Shi Feng replied.

“What are you going to do with it?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“Practise,” Shi Feng said.

She looked at him for a moment. He'd been carrying a broken wooden blade around his notes lately. A new sword was better than another cracked piece of wood, even if his meridians remained ruined in her mind.

“Then don't practise beside my screen,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Your screen hasn't challenged me,” Shi Feng replied.

“It had better not,” Ling Qingzhu said. “You'd make me buy another.”

He took the sword back, smiling. She went into the kitchen with him and began picking through a bowl of beans. After several breaths, he noticed that she put the good ones in the wrong bowl.

“Are those the beans you've rejected?” Shi Feng asked.

Ling Qingzhu looked down. Then she calmly exchanged the bowls.

“Now they are,” Ling Qingzhu replied.

Shi Feng didn't argue. He wanted supper more than victory.

They ate under the courtyard tree. The weather was growing warmer, and the evenings no longer required a charcoal brazier. Ling Qingzhu complained about a clan letter. An elder still wanted her to receive the consort's messenger about ending the match. The marriage barred a forced royal match, but invitations kept arriving through relatives. She folded the letter and asked whether his sword cost more than his mortar.

He answered. She called him extravagant and took the last piece of bean cake from his plate.

Shi Feng watched her eat it. These little habits were becoming part of his day. He knew exactly how her voice sounded when she was pretending not to care, and which questions meant she wanted him to stay and talk.

He wanted to stay too.

After supper, Ling Qingzhu found the private agreement while arranging her chest. She didn't touch his things. The paper was her own copy, folded beside her correspondence.

She read the extension date and frowned.

“Shi Feng,” Ling Qingzhu called.

He looked up from cleaning the sword.

“The month is nearly over,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“I know,” Shi Feng replied.

She waited for him to add something. He waited for her to explain what she wanted. At last, Ling Qingzhu put the agreement on the table between them.

“The regional tournament won't begin immediately,” Ling Qingzhu said. “There are still preparations in the capital. Leaving this house now would be inconvenient.”

“For whom?” Shi Feng asked.

“For both of us,” Ling Qingzhu replied too quickly.

He smiled. Her chin rose a little, warning him not to enjoy that answer too openly.

“Then stay until it's time to leave the capital for the regional tournament,” Shi Feng said. “If either of us wants to end it earlier, we can say so.”

“The same private terms,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Yes,” Shi Feng replied.

She took a brush and added the new ending to both copies. No intimacy owed, no change to their sleeping arrangements. This extended their private residence together; the registered marriage was a separate matter. Neither promised another payment, and neither opened the old argument about money.

This wasn't how Shi Feng wanted to speak about their future forever. However, it was another evening with her, chosen freely. He wasn't going to reject that because he hoped for more.

Ling Qingzhu finished writing and pushed his copy toward him.

“Don't lose it,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“Are you planning to deny it?” Shi Feng asked.

“No,” Ling Qingzhu replied.

Her answer came without hesitation. It pleased him more than her careful wording.

He put the paper away. Ling Qingzhu remained beside the table, running her thumb over the brush handle.

“Will you really go to watch the regional tournament?” Ling Qingzhu asked.

“I'll go,” Shi Feng replied.

“It's farther than the river,” Ling Qingzhu said.

“I'll buy better shoes,” Shi Feng answered.

She laughed, then told him to stop treating everything as a joke. He promised to consider that after she returned the bean cake.

Behind the folding screen that night, Ling Qingzhu read the new date once more. Outside it, Shi Feng laid the ordinary sword beside his bedding and closed his eyes.

For now, at least, neither of them wanted the room to change.

Ling Shuyun visited two days later with a packet of clan correspondence. Ling Qingzhu tied her veil before opening the gate and remained covered while they sat beneath the pear tree. Ling Shuyun asked about the regional journey, then left the letters and accepted a cup of tea without inspecting the rest of the household.

When the visitor had gone, Ling Qingzhu removed her veil and picked up the wooden blade beside the screen. She made one short turn while reading the first letter. The point cleared the chair by a finger's width. Her wrist had corrected before her eyes left the page.

Shi Feng noticed.

“That's a neat movement,” Shi Feng said.

“I've had an irritating teacher,” Ling Qingzhu said.

She leaned the blade back against the wall. He didn't ask how much she had concealed, and no guest had been present to see it. Her exact realm and the depth behind that ease stayed hers. Shi Feng only guessed that the answer was larger than the small demonstrations she chose to give him.

Later she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear while asking about the letters. Shi Feng missed the question. She called his name twice, then smiled at his guilty expression. The sword's neat turn stayed in his thoughts, but so did the way she enjoyed making him forget an ordinary sentence.