Hot tea and the lovesong

Winter was just set in on the Central Plains, but the people in the tavern had already filled most of the seats, warming themselves after a long journey with hot food and drink. But Shen Qiao, who recently descended from Xuandu Mountain, felt that it was much warmer here. Settling the affairs of the sect, he did not notice how time passed by, and the entire mountain peak was covered with a small, but no longer melting, layer of snow. Here, on the plain, small white flakes faded, barely touching the ground and the thick fox fur on the collar of Shen Qiao’s cloak, settling with moisture on a sheet of paper covered with several lines of even symbols. The name of the tavern in the letter matched the name on the sign. “Welcome, daozhang.” One worker greeted him immediately from the doorway, skillfully handling a tray full of dirty dishes as he walked. “It’s quite crowded today, but there’s a place for you.” Shen Qiao folded his hands in a polite bow, but the worker had already run away on his own business, rattling dishes and leaving the visitor to deal with everything on his own. Truly, there was a place, but it was the only one free table in the full tavern. Despite the crowd, it was not noisy here. On a small platform at the far end of the hall sat a girl in a simple but beautiful dress, holding a pipa in her hands. Her melodious voice spilled over the tavern, caressing the ear and intertwining with the sounds of strings trembling under her delicate fingers. No one wanted to disturb the beauty of her song, that the people sitting in the hall were talking to each other in an undertone. At a simple meal, Shen Qiao listened to the latest news that he had missed during his absence from the outside world. Exceptional hearing, which only became sharper after being blind, picked up various gossips, even if Shen Qiao did not want to overhear other people’s conversations at all. Ordinary people, not involved in the intrigues of Jianghu, gossip about everyday matters. After the change of the ruling dynasty, the situation in the Central Plains began to stabilize, and significant events occurred much less frequently. Shen Qiao calmly lowered his eyelashes as he sipped his warm tea and felt relieved that peace was gradually returning to the land. “Daozhang, sorry to interrupt your meal.” Stranger’s voice snapped Shen Qiao out of his thoughts, causing him to raise his head to look at the speaker. The young man, who looked like he was just getting ready to cross the threshold of adulthood, froze under the gaze of another person. The features of this daoist, who was modestly sitting alone, turned out to be graceful, so that the young man forgot what he originally wanted to say. “The seat next to you seems to be free,” he finally continued, feeling embarrassed for staring at the stranger so impolitely. “Do you mind if I sit down? All other places are occupied.” Shen Qiao shifted his gaze to the empty bench in front of him, separated from his own with a table. “I’m waiting for someone,” he replied calmly, softening his refusal with his voice. “I won’t be long. I just warm up and have a cup of tea before the road.” The young man was one of the persistent. Or was it just that Shen Qiao’s whole appearance spoke of his soft-heartedness, that he dared to persuade him? “I promise that as soon as your companion comes, I will leave you right there.” Shen Qiao could no longer refuse, and soon the neighbor was already serving him tea as a token of gratitude. The sweet voice of the singer still spilled over the hall, delighting the ears of those present with a long and romantic ballad about two lovers and their feelings. And the young man on the next bench seemed to have found himself an interlocutor, as if he had not talked to anyone for a very long time. “I hope the frosts will come at least a little later this year,” he chatted, pouring tea into the empty cups. “I would like to have time to get to Northern Zhou before it gets quite cold on the road.” Shen Qiao’s calm face showed interest, and this only gave courage to the young interlocutor. “They say that a new temple has appeared in Chang’an, which is recruiting apprentices,” he shared enthusiastically, for some reason seeing Shen Qiao as a grateful audience. “I want to try my luck and learn martial arts. Daozhang, tell me, do I have a chance?” Shen Qiao mentally sighed. What a small world of martial arts. This young man did not even imagine that the head of Xuandu Mountain and its branch in Northern Zhou was sitting in front of him. But Shen Qiao was not conceited enough to reveal his status. “The young master has potential,” he replied politely, but at that moment, the singer finished her ballad, and Shen Qiao’s quiet voice was drowned in applause and praise. It became noisy, and Shen Qiao turned away from the stage, again immersed in thoughts and the bitter taste of tea, which was very good in this tavern. The low male voice that resounded from the stage appeared to be a complete surprise for all those present, in contrast to the delicate and melodious voice of the female singer. This voice was all too familiar to Shen Qiao. On a cushion in the middle of a small stage, Yan Wushi sat in the place of his predecessor. Even in this modest tavern, sitting practically on the floor in front of a small audience, he looked like the entire world belonged to him. He did not even bother to take off his dark, fur-lined traveling cloak, which now only added color to him, setting off the silvery strands at his temples in contrast. His fingers, capable of killing anyone with a single movement, snatched the strings of a pipa borrowed from a girl by some unknown means. It was clear that the head of the Huanyue Sect did not know how to play the instrument, but it did not seem to bother him at all. Even in the crowded hall of the tavern, Yan Wushi’s gaze met Shen Qiao unmistakably, his lips stretched into a satisfied smirk. Shen Qiao averted his eyes quickly, ignoring his eccentric lover. Yan Wushi did not change his character at all, and Shen Qiao wanted to bury his face in his palm from embarrassment. But Yan Wushi expected this reaction from him, so ignoring was the best tactic. After so much time with him, Shen Qiao still managed to save his face sometimes. Unlike playing the strings, the leader of Huanyue Sect sang well, using his deep and beautiful voice that nature had given upon him. “What kind of song is this?” Shen Qiao shifted his gaze to his young neighbor, watching his face steadily turn red. He felt the tips of his own ears burn with the betrayal heat of embarrassment. Instead of romantic ballads and poems of adventure, Yan Wushi poured out a song of passionate love, shameless in its frankness and exciting the imagination, and Shen Qiao knew who it was meant for. His lover was always one step forward and constantly found new ways to embarrass him once again. As soon as the last notes were sounded, a sigh of disappointment swept through the hall, that the song was over, followed by a wave of applause. Shen Qiao looked up from his cup of tea, but Yan Wushi was no longer on stage. The singing girl regained the attention of the public. The youth in front of him shifted uneasily on the bench, obviously hearing this kind of performance for the first time, the blush still burning on his cheekbones. “A-Qiao, as soon as this venerable one leaves you alone, you again attract those who are not indifferent to you.” A deep velvety voice, previously singing from the stage, now resounded almost above the very ear, although its owner towered over those sitting at the table. “You were so carried away by a new friend that you did not even honor my performance with attention.” Yan Wushi clicked his tongue mockingly, with the interest of a person studying insects under his feet, watching the panic and confusion of the young man who got his place. The leader of Huanyue Sect made clear progress in intimidating innocent people who felt threatened without even knowing who was in front of them. “Yan-zongzhu shouldn’t have bothered himself like that,” Shen Qiao calmly answered him, raising his bright face to meet his interlocutor’s gaze. Yan Wushi sank down on the vacant bench opposite, not even paying attention to the young man who made the wise decision to retreat away hastily from these two strange people. “We haven’t seen each other for so long, and A-Qiao is so cold with me,” Yan Wushi drawled in an offended tone, but his whole look showed that he was enjoying the situation. Shen Qiao rolled his eyes mentally and reached for his cup, but dexterous fingers outstripped him, snatching the cup right from under his nose. Yan Wushi’s lips cupped the rim exactly where Shen Qiao’s had been before. Such a trick was not new to him, so he just sighed. “Maybe Yan-zongzhu is hungry?” he asked politely, refilling from the teapot the cup that was his earlier. “We have a long way to go.” As soon as Shen Qiao lowered the teapot on the table, his palms were instantly caught by other’s fingers. The elegant hands, as if carved from jade, harbored incredible strength and always were Yan Wushi’s small weakness, if a Demonic Sovereign could have such a thing at all. “If this venerable one is hungry, then only in the company of his A-Qiao.” His voice became deeper and more insinuating, more intimate as he circled the delicate bone on Shen Qiao’s wrist with the pad of his thumb. “Yan-zongzhu, have self-respect,” Shen Qiao hurriedly replied, hiding his eyes behind long eyelashes and gently but persistently pulling his hand out of a grip. Yan Wushi laughed and let him go easily, pleased that he had once again embarrassed his thin-skinned lover. His clothes rustled softly as he rose from the table. “Let’s go,” Yan Wushi called, dropping a pouch ringing with silver next to the empty cups, absolutely not worrying that there was certainly more than was necessary to pay for the meal. Shen Qiao obediently followed. Ahead of them was not the closest way to Chang’an. Even if they take horses now, the journey will take over one day. Leaving now was a good decision. “Where are you going, A-Qiao?” Strong hand caught Shen Qiao’s elbow, deftly leading him away from the exit of the tavern. He looked up at Yan Wushi in surprise. “Weren’t we going to move to Chang’an together?” Shen Qiao’s dark eyebrows arched slightly in confusion. A deep laugh sounded right in his ear as Yan Wushi wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Shen Qiao’s palms immediately rested on Yan Wushi’s chest, as if he were about to push him away. “Shen-lang, don’t you want to hear this venerable one sing again in a more private setting?” Yan Wushi inquired in an undertone, his lips tickling Shen Qiao’s ear as he spoke. He didn’t even need to use Devilish Charm. His low voice with velvety notes was enough for Shen Qiao to be led to another whim of his lover.