Suo Qingjun Chapter 24

Osmanthus Fragrance Fills the Courtyard

Morning light spilled over the window lattices and across the bed, coating the two figures embracing each other in a layer of warm gold.

Jin Xianling lingered in Qing Feng’an’s arms, his cheek rubbing against the skin of his neck. The scent of ink mingled with the smell of soap from the fabric, light and reassuring. His usual gloom and obsession seemed to have been completely smoothed away by the tenderness of the night, leaving only the unique affection and dependence of a young man.

Master, how about we don’t practice the sword today? he murmured, his voice soft and sweet with the lingering traces of sleep. The osmanthus is in bloom. Let’s go to the courtyard and soak up the sun.

Qing Feng’an couldn’t help but laugh. His fingertip lightly grazed the boy’s chin, his movements carrying a hint of indulgence. You are becoming more and more adept at being lazy.

Despite his words, he did not push the person in his arms away. He simply allowed Jin Xianling to hold him, listening to the steady breathing by his ear, his heart filled with softness.

Such a leisurely time was a rare luxury for him.

In the past, he was the authoritative Sect Leader of the Xuanqing Sword Sect, the cold and aloof immortal master in the eyes of his disciples. He carried the rise and fall of the sect on his shoulders and the righteousness of the world in his heart, never daring to relax for a moment. It wasn’t until Jin Xianling barged into his life with a frenzied obsession, pulling him down from that high and lonely altar, forcing him to taste all the love, hatred, and attachments of the mortal world, and compelling him to learn how to lower his guard and embrace the mundane sparks of life.

The osmanthus tree in the corner of the courtyard had been planted by Jin Xianling when he first joined the sect. Back then, the youth was skin and bones, but his eyes were startlingly bright. Holding a small osmanthus sapling, he had asked timidly, Master, does osmanthus smell good? When it grows up, we can sit under the tree and drink tea.

Years had passed in a flash, and the sapling of those days had long since grown into a lush canopy. Now, his wish was finally fulfilled.

After the two of them washed up, they sat side by side at the stone table in the courtyard. Jin Xianling had found a set of celadon tea tools from somewhere. As boiling water was poured into the pot, the tea leaves unfurled, and a faint white mist rose. He poured the tea with practiced movements; the liquid was clear and bright, carrying a subtle fragrance of osmanthus.

Master, try some. Jin Xianling pushed a cup of tea in front of Qing Feng’an, his eyes full of expectation.

Qing Feng’an picked up the teacup and took a sip. Warmth spread from the tip of his tongue, and the scent of osmanthus lingered between his teeth. He looked up at Jin Xianling. The youth was resting his chin on his hand, watching him. The sunlight fell across his features, softening his silhouette and making him look somewhat well-behaved.

It is delicious, Qing Feng’an said softly.

Jin Xianling’s eyes immediately curved into a smile, like a child who had received a reward. He hurriedly poured another cup. Then Master should drink more.

They sat like that, basking in the warm sun and listening to the rustle of the wind through the osmanthus branches. They spoke occasionally, but for the most part, they remained in silence. There was no awkwardness, only the tranquility of a peaceful life.

Such a scene naturally could not be hidden from the sect disciples.

A disciple passing by the courtyard gate caught a glimpse of the two sitting side by side at the stone table. He was so shocked that the broom in his hand fell to the ground.

Wasn’t that… the Sect Leader’s wife? Why was she suddenly wearing men’s clothing? And looking at the face, why did he seem somewhat familiar?

The disciples whispered among themselves, and the news spread through the entire Xuanqing Sword Sect as if it had grown wings.

Some were suspicious, some were stunned, and some remembered that the little disciple the Sect Leader had picked up years ago shared seventy percent of his features with the person before them.

Yet, no one dared to say much.

They looked at their Sect Leader, whose usually cold features were now graced with a hint of a smile. They looked at the Madam Su who had been rumored to be so miraculous; having shed the female clothing, he was now dressed in black robes, looking heroic and striking. The gaze he directed at the Sect Leader was so tender it could practically melt into water.

This sight was actually more reassuring than the previous image of a virtuous wife accompanying the immortal master.

Jin Xianling noticed the movement outside the door. Instead of restraining himself, he deliberately leaned closer to Qing Feng’an, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He rested his chin on Qing Feng’an’s shoulder and tilted his head toward the door, his eyes flashing with a bit of smug pride.

Qing Feng’an shook his head helplessly, but he did not push the hand away, simply letting him have his fun.

The sunlight was perfect, and the fragrance of osmanthus filled the courtyard.

Qing Feng’an turned his head to look at the youth’s vibrant features on his shoulder. A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Perhaps the so-called righteousness of the world and the rise and fall of the sect were not as important as a single smile from the person beside him at this moment.

He raised his hand and took Jin Xianling’s hand in return, their fingers interlocking, filled with warmth.

There are some chess games where, once a piece is placed, there is no turning back.

And there is some tenderness that, once it enters the heart, is enough to withstand all the wind and rain in the world.

The scent of osmanthus curled in the air, drifting over the peaks of the Xuanqing Sword Sect, through the long river of time, and over the figures of the two leaning against each other. Year after year, it never faded.