The Art of Teasing - Chapter 96

Chapter 96

Wen Zhengyu lowered her head, flipping through the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness:

"Lord Lao said: The Great Dao is formless, birthing Heaven and Earth; the Heavenly Dao is without emotion, yet moves the sun and moon; the Great Dao is nameless, yet nourishes all things; I do not know its name, so I force upon it the name Dao. As for this Dao: it has clarity, it has turbidity; it has motion, it has stillness. Heaven is clear, Earth is turbid; Heaven moves, Earth is still..."

"The human spirit delights in clarity, but the heart disturbs it; the human heart delights in stillness, but desire tugs at it. If one can constantly dispel desire, the heart will naturally still; if one can clarify the heart, the spirit will naturally clear..."

Wen Zhengyu read the scripture silently, over and over. She understood every individual character, and she knew the principle behind every sentence, but as for truly understanding, she could only say she half understood, that her understanding was incomplete. Still, the feeling of reciting it silently was quite pleasant. She rather liked chanting scriptures, and she liked living this kind of clear, quiet, leisurely life.

"Kunlun..." Ye Ling's sleep-murmured whisper drifted over.

The room was very quiet, and Wen Zhengyu heard it clearly. She raised her head and looked toward Ye Ling. She hadn't expected Ye Ling to talk in her sleep. Kunlun? Was she dreaming of the Kunlun Mountains?

"Zhengyu..." Another low murmur came.

Wen Zhengyu's eyes flickered; she hurriedly lowered her head back to the scripture.

She didn't absorb a single character. She pricked up her ears and listened for a long time, but heard no more sleep-talking from Ye Ling. She mused to herself: Was Ye Ling dreaming about me painting the Kunlun Mountains?

She couldn't crawl into Ye Ling's dream to see what Ye Ling was dreaming, nor could she ask Ye Ling. There was no way to know what dream Ye Ling was having, so she could only continue reading the scripture.

The evening sun slanted westward.

Wen Zhengyu saw that it was almost time for dinner, so she went to call Ye Ling: "Ye Ling, it's time for dinner." Only after calling out several times did she see Ye Ling open her eyes.

Ye Ling's gaze was hazy and lost, her expression somewhat dazed. She called out: "Kunlun?"

Ye Ling's mind was a little jumbled. Abruptly seeing the blurry figure before her, she couldn't quite distinguish between dream and reality.

In the dream, she was the Phoenix Bird. Her family mansion had transformed into an immortal palace on the Kunlun snow mountain. The immortal palace had another master, called Kunlun, the master of the Kunlun Void. That master was a woman, warm and gentle like jade. Her white robes blended into one color with the vast white expanse of the snowy landscape. Her long hair, black as ink, was like the patches of color on the snow mountain not covered by ice and snow. Some said she was the mountain god of the Kunlun Mountains; others said she was the essence of the Kunlun Divine Mountain incarnate, the Kunlun Spirit; still others said she was the Kunlun Void, that the Kunlun Void was her. Later, she died. The Kunlun Void turned to ruins, shattered into countless fragments that crumbled into the void between heaven and earth. In the dream, Kunlun often played the zither beneath the parasol tree where she dwelled, and she, perched in the tree, would sing loudly in harmony, summoning a hundred birds to pay court.

This dream was one Wen Zhengyu had once described to her, and she had dreamed it again. The world in the dream was entirely the world Wen Zhengyu had painted into existence.

Ye Ling came back to her senses. She hugged the blanket and sat up, rubbing her sleep-tousled long hair. "I dreamed of your painting," she said, "and the story you told." She added: "In the dream, I was the Phoenix Bird, and you were the Kunlun Goddess."

Wen Zhengyu felt strange. It was that sensation—as if the deeply private, innermost world of her heart had suddenly been invaded by someone, all its privacy ripped open in an instant. Yet simultaneously, there was a feeling of, "Ah, so there is actually another person in this world who thinks just like me." Then another thought surfaced: Could we really have been fated in a past life? But she immediately felt that this third notion was far too absurd.

She said: "It's time for dinner." As she spoke, she saw Ye Ling abruptly tip backward and fall back onto the bed.

Wen Zhengyu watched Ye Ling lying back down, surprised and puzzled.

Ye Ling closed her eyes and said: "Let me dream a little longer."

Clearly, it was a beautiful dream she was unwilling to leave.

Wen Zhengyu tried to scare her: "Keep sleeping and you'll dream about the Kunlun Goddess dying."

Ye Ling's eyes flew wide open. Her drowsiness vanished. She said peevishly: "Can't you say something nice, like me marrying the Kunlun Goddess or something?"

Wen Zhengyu said: "But the reality is that after the Kunlun Goddess died, she became a little sprite, guarding the fallen Phoenix Bird in death, until the Phoenix Bird became bones and then those bones turned to ash."

Ye Ling said: "Zhengyu, paint another one. Paint the Kunlun Goddess and the Phoenix Bird reincarnated to renew their former bond. The Phoenix Bird marries the Kunlun Goddess. Then everyone is happy."

Wen Zhengyu said: "And paint the Phoenix Bird in human form, using you as the model?"

Ye Ling sighed: "He who knows me—Zhengyu."

Wen Zhengyu cast Ye Ling a speechless glance.

The collar of Ye Ling's sleeping robe was half open, her breasts half concealed, half revealed. She was indolent and lazy, still lingering in bed, entirely devoid of her usual domineering attitude. Her body was completely relaxed, exuding the unique allure of a mature woman, like a dahlia blooming to its ultimate extreme.

Wen Zhengyu's heart stirred slightly. The thought—painting Ye Ling would be better than painting the Phoenix Bird—flashed through her mind. She remembered Ye Ling's bare back, tattooed with the Phoenix Bird design. That figure, back turned toward her, held a unique seductiveness. If I painted Ye Ling like that, she thought, it would certainly be beautiful too.

Wen Zhengyu caught herself drifting. She came back to her senses to find Ye Ling watching her, eyes full of laughter.

Ye Ling asked: "Stunned silly?"

Wen Zhengyu tossed down the words, "Get up and eat," and turned away from Ye Ling's side. The thought of having to share a bed with Ye Ling again tonight made her uneasy.

Ye Ling got up with great reluctance, thinking to herself: Why did we have to stay in a Daoist temple? But then, given Wen Zhengyu's skittishness, even if they weren't in a temple, there was nothing she could do anyway.

She shed her sleeping robe, changed into her clothes, and washed her face. Without putting on makeup, bare-faced, she went out with Wen Zhengyu to eat dinner.

Ye Ling's fundamentals were excellent. Not only was her skin good, but her facial features, contours, brows—everything was well-formed. Even without makeup, she was beautiful. Some people, when they put on makeup—affixing false eyelashes, false double eyelids, eyeshadow, blush, smearing everything all over their face—their makeup looked like a disguise.

Ye Ling didn't use false eyelashes. At most, she'd brush on a little mascara. Her makeup was mostly just to make her skin look brighter, to cover the dark circles under her eyes. Now, bare-faced, the faint traces left by lack of sleep under her eyes were visible.

Some people are utterly unpresentable without makeup, giving off the feeling of being unkempt and slovenly. But Ye Ling without makeup gave an impression of freshness and simplicity, like the sky after rain, possessing a kind of clean, washed purity.

For a split second, Wen Zhengyu had the urge to stuff a horsetail whisk into Ye Ling's hand and drag her off to become a nun together.

The thought flashed by. She then found it absurd—who ever heard of people becoming monastics in pairs?

At the Daoist temple, drumbeats sounded at five in the afternoon. Dinner was at five-thirty.

Lunch had stir-fried dishes specifically for visiting tourists, and those were quite tasty.

For dinner, Wen Zhengyu took Ye Ling to the dining hall the Daoist priests used. Unlike lunch, which had four dishes, dinner only had two, along with rice, steamed buns, and fruit.

To maintain her figure, Wen Zhengyu often just had fruit for dinner, occasionally eating a little rice and vegetables.

The temple's food was light and mild, perfectly suiting Wen Zhengyu's palate.

Ye Ling's tastes leaned toward strong flavors; she liked meat and spicy food.

Wen Zhengyu figured Ye Ling would need to summon Lao Gan Ma chili sauce in person to get used to temple fare. But the Daoist temple ate vegetarian, and the primary prohibition wasn't actually meat—it was strongly flavored things like ginger and garlic. Things like the chili sauce Ye Ling loved, for example; those were only available in the dining hall that served tourists, to cater to their tastes.

Wen Zhengyu noticed Ye Ling had eaten an entire extra bowl of rice compared to usual. She asked: "You can get used to this food?" She was eating so heartily?

Ye Ling said quietly: "No oil, no meat, no flavor. It doesn't fill the stomach." She took another steamed bun, split it into two halves, and gave one half to Wen Zhengyu.

Wen Zhengyu thought to herself: Seems it really doesn't fill the stomach.

Ye Ling asked: "What activities are there at the temple in the evening?"

Wen Zhengyu said: "Free time. After eight-fifteen at night, visiting other rooms isn't allowed. Some priests meditate before sleep and dislike being disturbed."

Ye Ling said: "Alright, then let's just wander around, take a walk."

After the tourists dispersed, the temple was so silent one could hear a pin drop.

In the sunset, the evening glow spread across the mountain ridges. Gusts of autumn wind rustled the bamboo leaves loudly. Golden fallen leaves drifted through the sky, fluttering down slowly. The air was saturated with a sense of tranquil beauty, standing aloof from the clamor of the mundane world.

Wen Zhengyu and Ye Ling strolled along the forest paths within the temple grounds.

Wen Jing, Ma Jun, and Ye Ling's two bodyguards followed them at a considerable distance.

They followed the winding forest path all the way to the mountaintop.

The mountain was not tall. At the peak stood a pavilion, called Guanfeng Pavilion—the Wind Viewing Pavilion.

Inside the pavilion, cool breezes blew gently. Below the pavilion, nestled among the trees, were green bricks, black tiles, flying eaves, and dougong brackets.

Standing in the pavilion, Ye Ling savored this rare peace and tranquility. She couldn't help but sigh with a sense that this was what the life of immortals must feel like.

Wen Zhengyu sat on a bench beside the pavilion, chin propped on her hand, watching the sunset clouds at the horizon.

The sun was no longer visible. The sky had darkened, leaving only the last sliver of evening glow at the horizon. Only where the glow still touched was there a remaining patch of brightness. In the glow, the silhouettes of birds returning late to roost could still be seen passing by. The birds spread their wings, streaking across the sky, tracing elegant arcs into the distance, or circling in the air, their postures free and unrestrained.

Wen Zhengyu truly loved living days like this.

Morning bells and evening drums, smelling incense and learning the Dao, watching the sunrise in the morning, watching the sunset in the evening.

Ye Ling's gaze settled on Wen Zhengyu.

An aura of serene contentment flowed around Wen Zhengyu. Her figure seemed to melt into the scenery, blending seamlessly with her surroundings.

Ye Ling's thoughts were somewhat conflicted. She couldn't bear to disturb this peaceful leisure of Wen Zhengyu's, yet she wanted to reach out and stir that placid pool, to raise waves.

When the sky was fully dark, Wen Zhengyu and Ye Ling descended the mountain and returned to their room to rest.

By the time they got back to the small courtyard where they were staying, the Daoist nuns lodging at the temple had already finished washing up and were hanging laundry under the eaves.

The temple had no washing machines; clothes were all washed by hand. After washing, they were hung to dry on the clotheslines under the eaves. Wen Zhengyu's clothes were also hung out at night, and once they stopped dripping, she brought them inside to finish drying in the shade. Since coming to the mountain, she had washed all her clothes by hand—it was Wen Jing who had taught her how to do laundry.

Wen Zhengyu greeted them with a smile and went with Ye Ling into their own room.

Back in the room, Wen Zhengyu gathered her sleeping robe, shawl, and toiletries and went to the bathroom next door to shower.

The bathroom was communal. Because there weren't many female guests or nuns, there were only a few rooms and bathrooms.

It was one large bathroom, divided into four small stalls, with a shower curtain hanging at the entrance of each stall for visual privacy.

The bathroom used an electric water heater. There was a mirror and sink by the door. Next to the bathroom was the washroom.

Ye Ling hadn't brought shower sandals. Fortunately, the temple had disposable slippers like a hotel, and Wen Zhengyu gave her a pair.

The two of them went to the bathroom together.

The bathroom was right next to their room, separated by only one wall from the room Wen Jing was staying in.

Wen Jing was leaning on the railing, speaking softly on the phone. From the sound of it, she was talking with family.

Because it was so quiet, and Wen Jing's phone voice was loud, Wen Zhengyu could even hear an older woman's voice on the other end, asking Wen Jing when she'd have leave, whether she could come home for the New Year, and so on.

Wen Zhengyu realized that Wen Jing had been with her for so long, yet had almost never taken a vacation.

Seeing Ye Ling and Wen Zhengyu approach, Wen Jing straightened up, bowing her head slightly in greeting.

Wen Zhengyu nodded back to Wen Jing, returning the greeting, and entered the bathroom.

Ye Ling noticed Wen Jing was standing right at the bathroom door and knew she was deliberately keeping watch there. The bodyguards Ye Ling had hired were all men, and here in the temple, they couldn't stay in the same courtyard as the two of them. For their safety, they could only rely entirely on Wen Jing.

As a woman, using a female bodyguard was convenient. But as a lesbian, using a female close-protection bodyguard sometimes led to... other things. The first bodyguard she'd hired was a woman. At first it was fine, but after a long time together, that bodyguard began to intrude on her life, under the guise of care and duty. When Ye Ling noticed her intentions and dismissed her, the bodyguard first complained of unfairness, then confessed her feelings, and then even tried to use force. Since then, she had never used another female bodyguard, not even when it occasionally caused inconvenience.

Ye Ling entered the bathroom. Hearing the sound of water from the next stall, imagining what Wen Zhengyu looked like showering next door, she couldn't help but let her thoughts wander. Though she would never stoop to something as low as peeping, and with Wen Zhengyu, she didn't even dare tease about taking a lovers' bath together. Wen Zhengyu's boundaries were drawn with particular clarity. If she wanted to cross the line of ordinary friendship and edge closer to Wen Zhengyu, she had to be especially, exquisitely careful, inching forward bit by tiny bit, terrified of stepping on a landmine.

Wen Zhengyu finished her shower before Ye Ling. When Ye Ling came out, Wen Zhengyu was already by the mirror, using the electric hairdryer. The hairdryer was fixed to the wall; it could only be used in front of the bathroom mirror, not taken away.

The weather had already turned cool, and the temperature at night was very low.

Wen Zhengyu was still wearing her summer nightgown, with only a shawl draped over her shoulders for warmth.

Ye Ling was even worse off than Wen Zhengyu. She hadn't expected the temple bathroom to be communal, that the guest rooms would have no private washroom or bathroom, let alone that it would be this cold at night on the mountain. Thus, she was utterly unprepared. Her sleeping robe was a summer garment, silk. A puff of wind chilled her from head to toe.

Ye Ling wiped her hair with a semi-dry towel, ready to head back to the room.

Wen Zhengyu switched off the hairdryer and handed it to Ye Ling.

Ye Ling covered her mouth and sneezed.

Watching Ye Ling dressed so thinly, Wen Zhengyu moved to untie her shawl, saying: "Take my shawl. I'll go back to the room first."

Ye Ling hurriedly stopped her. "Don't you catch cold. Ha... ha-choo!"

Wen Zhengyu said: "Don't dry your hair. The mountain wind is strong; be careful you don't catch a cold."

Ye Ling was so cold goosebumps had risen all over her. Her loose hair had water droplets still clinging to the ends. Freezing, she didn't bother about her wet hair and headed straight for the room. "You can live with conditions this poor?" she said, quickening her pace to get inside.

Wen Zhengyu said: "I think it's fine." Her gaze fell on Ye Ling, who was now walking quickly ahead of her.

Ye Ling's wet hair had soaked the back of her sleeping robe. The silk robe, once wet, became transparent and clung tightly to her back, even revealing the golden tattoo there. The half-wet back, the slightly wavy long hair—it unexpectedly revealed a unique kind of seduction and sensuality. Set off against those bare, pale, slender calves exposed in the cold wind, and the squelchy hotel slippers on her feet, she also looked slightly bedraggled. Ye Ling hugged her arms, shrinking into herself. Like a little bird in a chilly wind, she scurried quickly into the room.

Wen Zhengyu truly had never imagined it: CEO Ye, who commanded wind and cloud, could actually be defeated by an autumn breeze. She followed inside and saw Ye Ling, body still damp, diving straight into bed, water from her hair dripping onto the sheets. Wen Zhengyu's mouth half opened; she almost yelled, "Get down!" It was her bed! But seeing Ye Ling shivering, huddled into a ball, she forcibly swallowed her words. She could only grab her own towel and bring it over for Ye Ling, telling her to dry her hair a bit more, and reminding her: "Your clothes are wet."

Ye Ling made a sound of acknowledgment but didn't take the towel. Instead, she briskly peeled off the sleeping robe soaked against her back and tossed it onto the square stool by the bedside.

Wen Zhengyu stared blankly at the uninhibited Ye Ling, unable to process what she was seeing. Inwardly, she thought: This... isn't quite proper, is it? But she truly couldn't bring herself to kick Ye Ling—who was sneezing repeatedly from the cold and now half-naked—out of bed. Watching water still dripping from Ye Ling's hair, soaking the pillow and blanket, she had no choice but to use the towel to cradle the dripping ends of Ye Ling's hair.

Ye Ling said with delighted surprise: "I never expected this kind of trea... ha-choo! ...treatment!"

Wen Zhengyu ignored this unhygienic, heedless Ye Ling who had climbed into bed with a wet body and clearly no intention of drying her hair. Silently, she dried Ye Ling's hair for her. Then she picked up each strand of hair Ye Ling had shed on the bed, one by one, throwing them into the trash, thus preserving the cleanliness of her bed. She threw the wet slippers Ye Ling had worn in the shower into the trash, got a brand new pair of hotel cotton slippers, and placed them beside the bed. Raising her head, she saw Ye Ling clutching the blanket, eyes shining, face full of smiles, watching her. Then Ye Ling suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth and let out a huge sneeze.

Seeing Ye Ling like this, it looked like she was coming down with a cold. Wen Zhengyu went to find the cold medicine she had brought, poured some hot water from the thermos, and made Ye Ling take some medicine to prevent getting sick.

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