Capítulo 23: Black Jade
The sisters settled into silence for the rest of the trip. Yang Ming fidgeted nervously with her fan, while Yang Qinghui stared out the window, lost in contemplation.
So I went missing years ago, and resurfaced as head disciple of Zui Xian Peak. Somehow. And Yang Ming was scared I'd been captured or killed by cultivators or "old enemies." Why would our family be targeted by cultivators?
Besides, both of them had ended up in a sect.
Another, specific sect, then? Yang Qinghui wondered. Did we anger someone?
She had reached no conclusion before the carriage rattled to a stop. Through the window, Yang Qinghui could see the bustle of Jinlan City. Civilians and merchants walked past, chattering or shouting, carrying bags, baskets, and children on their hips and shoulders.
As the sisters stepped out of the carriage – Yang Qinghui helping Yang Ming down – Yang Qinghui cast an eye over the street. Several stalls had been arranged, lining the streets, and people spilled out of restaurants and shops between them.
"It's a lively city," she said approvingly.
Yang Ming smiled, covering her mouth with her fan. "Indeed. Now, we should hurry."
The sun was still above the city wall, but gradually sinking past it.
Suppose it'll be an overnight trip, Yang Qinghui thought as Yang Ming led her down the street.
Despite the seriousness of their visit, and the prospect of finally uncovering her backstory, Yang Qinghui couldn't help but scan every stall and shop they passed. She hadn't had much of a chance to leave the Peaks, and she was determined to enjoy it. Even with Yang Ming tugging insistently on her sleeve.
"Ooh, look here," she exclaimed, stopping in her tracks.
Sighing sharply, Yang Ming turned around. "What?"
Yang Qinghui leaned down to study a sizable stall. Gold, silver, and jade hairpins were arranged attractively on the counter.
The merchant herself stepped forward with a toothy grin. "Well now, you two are quite the noblewomen! Bet you've got an eye for the fine stuff." She leaned against the counter and gestured widely. "These are my best hairpins!"
"Pick something out, A-Ming," Yang Qinghui urged with a smile. "My treat."
Yang Ming seemed to struggle not to roll her eyes. Her placid smile grew stiffer as the merchant rounded the counter to pluck a hairpin from its stand and hold it up to Yang Ming's face.
"This one definitely suits you, madam!"
Yang Qinghui studied the hairpins. Her gaze kept returning to one chai-style, with two golden prongs. The gold curled like leaves around two black jade carvings of lotus flowers. The way the black jade gleamed reminded her of something… of someone's eyes.
"I'll take this," she found herself saying. "How much?"
The merchant looked over with a grin. "Ah, you've got a good eye, ma'am! That's one of my finest pieces. Eighty taels."
Yang Qinghui began rummaging through her coinpurse. She nearly jumped as Yang Ming's hand closed over her wrist.
"Hang on," she hissed. To the merchant, she said, in a chilly tone, "I have seen pieces like that for thirty taels."
The merchant's grin wavered. "W-well, this one is far superior to anything you've seen before, I assure you! The black jade is of the finest quality!"
"Mm-hmm. Then fifty taels should be sufficient."
The merchant glanced pleadingly at Yang Qinghui, who was too impressed with Yang Ming's sudden craftiness to say anything.
With a disappointed huff, the merchant held out her hand. "Fine. Fifty taels."
Yang Qinghui handed over the money, and took the hairpin carefully from the counter. It was beautiful, but seemed so delicate between her thick fingers. How was she supposed to make sure it didn't break?
"For an extra five, I'll package it for you!" the merchant hurried to say.
Yang Qinghui agreed, relieved. The hairpin was neatly and carefully packaged in cloth, and Yang Qinghui tucked it into a pocket on the inside of her outer robe. It was a warm weight against her chest, and she couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at her lips.
As the sisters began walking again, Yang Ming raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were one for such fancy hairpins, jiejie."
"It's… not for me," Yang Qinghui admitted. Was she blushing? Her cheeks felt warm.
"Oh?" Yang Ming's eyes narrowed mischieviously. "Do tell."
Yang Qinghui cleared her throat. Yep, she was definitely blushing now. "There's not much to tell. I haven't confessed my feelings yet, not really. I'm not even sure she feels the same way."
"Well, there will be no mistaking the nature of your feelings once you gift her the hairpin." Yang Ming's expression softened. "I wish you the best."
Yang Qinghui smiled. "Thanks, meimei."
As they walked, the streets gradually became less busy, with fewer people, carts, and shops. They'd taken so many turns Yang Qinghui was sure she'd be hopelessly lost without Yang Ming.
"Do you think…" Yang Qinghui began. She hesitated.
Yang Ming looked up at her curiously. "What is it?"
"Will Father be angry I haven't visited?" Yang Qinghui mumbled. With every step, she felt more and more like turning around and running back to Zui Xian Peak.
"Oh, jiejie." Yang Ming slipped her hand around Yang Qinghui's arm affectionately. "I know Father can be stern sometimes, but he does love us both. He'll forgive you, of course."
Yang Qinghui forced a smile, and tried not to think of broken dishes and echoing yells. "Right. Of course."
Finally, they reached their destination.
A red gate cut off a small courtyard house from the quiet street. Tiled roofs peeked over the edges of the walls, and the uppermost branches of a red-leaved tree stretched up from one corner of the courtyard.
Lifting her skirts slightly, Yang Ming climbed up the short set of stone steps. She knocked with the back of her hand on the red panels. A moment passed. Yang Ming looked over her shoulder and beckoned for Yang Qinghui to join her on the landing.
Yang Qinghui's throat suddenly felt dry. Her feet wouldn't move – neither to bring her closer nor to flee.
"Enter!" a voice called.
"A-Jing," Yang Ming whispered. "Let's go."
Taking a shuddering breath, Yang Qinghui forced herself to step forward. And step forward again. And again, until she stood on the landing beside Yang Ming.
He can't be as bad as my actual father, she kept repeating to herself. He can't be as bad.
Yang Ming squeezed her hand, then pushed open the red doors.
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