Bai Xun listened in silence, his eyes red as he gently stroked his youngest daughter’s soft hair, deeply moved. “Such a calamity… It’s fortunate A-Xi remembers nothing. You two sisters, to have survived such danger, are indeed blessed.”
He had found them near the imperial tomb outside the city and had witnessed the strange and eerie scene, so he knew his youngest daughter was not lying. A lifetime of military campaigns and bloodshed had hardened him, yet he hadn’t expected the heavens to favor his two daughters so generously, sparing them in their moment of despair and even sending divine intervention. And yet, he couldn’t tell if this divine intervention would be a blessing or a curse for the Bai family. Tales of gods and spirits were often told among common folk, but they were just stories. Now, with the Bai family holding a prominent position and Bai Xi’s unique status, if rumors of a deity rescuing the Bai sisters spread, who knew what trouble it might bring upon them?
As the head of the Bai family, Bai Xun thought far ahead. Seeing his youngest daughter’s fascination with that deity, he warned her, “Shuo’er, you must bury the events of that night deep within. For your sister’s sake, never speak of it to anyone again.”
Bai Shuo, wise beyond her years, nodded.
“And one more thing…” Bai Xun’s eyes darkened. “Don’t mention that deity again.”
Bai Shuo looked up, meeting her father’s stern gaze. Though her face showed hurt, her voice was small yet earnest, “But Father, I promised the Divine Lord who saved me that I would cultivate diligently, become an immortal, live for thousands of years, and someday repay him.”
Bai Xun couldn’t help but smile at his youngest daughter’s serious tone. Gently tapping her forehead, he chuckled, “Thousands of years, indeed! If you can live a peaceful hundred years, I’ll be thanking the heavens.”
Lifting her up from the mat, he took her by the hand and began leading her out.
“Shuo’er, immortals are rare gifts of fortune, meeting one is a blessing in itself. After this… best not to mention it again.”
Bai Xun’s cautionary words echoed in Bai Shuo’s ears, yet she couldn’t forget the memory of those deep violet eyes under the vast purple moon.
When she opened her eyes, the bright sun shone down on her face. Bai Shuo squinted, gazing at the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of a purple moon, yet her efforts were thwarted by the blinding sunlight.
“Shuo’er!” A cheerful voice called from beyond the porch.
The two sisters looked up to see Chong Zhao walking toward them, carrying a large wooden box. The young master of the Left Prime Minister’s residence, Chong Zhao, was three years older than them, cheerful and handsome. He had grown up with the two sisters and had been engaged to Bai Shuo since childhood. Right now, he was her closest playmate, especially as he knew about the incident during the Lantern Festival, when the sisters had gotten lost. Bai Shuo had fallen gravely ill afterward, leaving her in a rather somber mood. Lately, Chong Zhao had been bringing her small gifts to cheer her up.
With a composed demeanor befitting her status, Bai Xi only gave Chong Zhao a polite nod.
Chong Zhao returned the greeting respectfully before walking up to Bai Shuo. He examined her expression carefully, only relaxing when he saw she looked much better than in the previous days. Smiling, he opened the wooden box and pushed it toward her.
“Shuo’er, I brought you a bamboo dragonfly and a spinning top from Xiangfu Pavilion.”
Bai Shuo glanced into the box, picked up the bamboo dragonfly, and gave it a half-hearted “Oh.”
Seeing her lack of interest, Chong Zhao was a little disappointed. He lowered his voice, asking, “You’re still not feeling well?”
“I’m fine,” Bai Shuo murmured, still fiddling with the bamboo dragonfly, her mind elsewhere. She had none of her usual liveliness.
Chong Zhao, being young and fond of Bai Shuo’s bright smile, quickly offered, “Then why aren’t you happy? Whatever you want to do, I’ll go with you!”
Hearing this, Bai Shuo’s eyes brightened, and she was about to say something when she noticed Bai Xi, focused on her calligraphy practice in the study. Tugging Chong Zhao’s sleeve, she whispered, “Let’s go outside. We shouldn’t disturb A-Xi while she practices.”
Chong Zhao, who always felt a bit uneasy around Bai Xi, was more than happy to oblige, nodding eagerly.
With the box in hand, the two walked off, laughing and chatting in hushed tones. Bai Xi watched their retreating figures with a hint of envy in her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Bai Shuo, and the calm serenity in her expression faded. She sighed deeply, picked up a Buddhist scripture, and began to copy it slowly. The events of that night were so shocking that no one wished to bring them up again. And so, she thought, it was best forgotten. If only…
Bai Xi’s hand paused over the page.
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