Ten Days

Early in the morning, Jingxing was awakened by a ship's horn.

The fog outside the porthole hadn't completely dissipated yet. He lay on his bunk and glanced out the window before remembering that he seemed to have fallen asleep in the pavilion last night.

"Did she move in for me?" Jingxing muttered to himself, "She's quite strong."

He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced around the room. Fu Xuan had probably tidied up the room after throwing it on the bed; it looked very neat.

After getting out of bed, Jingxing noticed a box next to him with a note attached. "Try it out, then give me some feedback."

Jingxing stared at the box for a while, then without hesitation, he took out the Cloud-Washing Ink-Tracer and began to transform the Beauty Path Energy into it.

"Oh..." Jingxing quickly noticed that his energy consumption seemed to have decreased significantly, and less of the converted energy was dissipating, with the vast majority condensing in the inkstone.

After feeling empty all over again, Jingxing leaned back and lay back on the bed.

"Awake?" Fu Xuan's voice came from outside the door. She was carrying a paper bag containing rice cakes she had just bought, and a steaming earthenware pot in her other hand. She put the things down one by one and sat on the edge of the bed.

"How is it?" she asked, glancing at the inkstone. "It actually managed to solidify more than before. Are you alright?"

"It's nothing," Jingxing waved his hand. "If I had to say, I'm just a little hungry."

Fu Xuan raised an eyebrow, poured the porridge from the earthenware pot into a bowl, and picked it up. "I borrowed the stove from the Pearl-Bearers to cook some porridge, and also asked my Senior Sister to buy some rice cakes for me."

"You've worked hard, Lord Diviner," Jingxing said as she fed him, "But I thought you usually ate in the canteen at the Divination Commission."

"... I've lived alone away from home for so long, so it's only natural that I can cook." She raised the bowl a little higher, obscuring half of her face.

The porridge was hot, and the fish and meat mixed in were very fragrant and sweet. After it entered his stomach, the stiffness in his neck, which had lasted all night, slowly eased.

The rice cakes looked like they had just come out of the pot, with a layer of parchment paper underneath, the corners of which were curled up by the heat.

Looking down, Fu Xuan noticed that a small section of his trousers was wet; it had just been raining outside, and the road probably wasn't easy to walk on.

Outside the Starskiff, the river mist clung to the water's surface, layer upon layer filling the view. But the city hanging upside down in the sky was clearer than yesterday—the eaves, corridors, watchtowers, and even the window frames could be counted.

The Jidu Mirage is neither hurried nor impatient; it hangs high in the sky, moving down a little bit each day.

The bell in the inner city rang to announce the count. After it finished ringing, the Pearl-Bearers would start taking attendance according to the old rules. The roster of those who went out and the number of those who returned could not be wrong. Further in, on the river, several flat-bottomed boats were being led in. The things on the boats were covered with blue cloth and tied tightly with ropes at the four corners.

Seeing this, Jingxing casually asked, "What's in there?"

Fu Xuan only answered with five words: "The eggs from the Molting Rebirth Hall."

It seems that regardless of how intense the war is, the Vidyadharas have begun to make preparations; look, they've even started relocating their eggs.

However, upon closer examination, the Vidyadharas are almost incapable of reproducing, so ensuring the safety of these eggs is naturally of utmost importance to them.

Around noon, another military report from Yaoguang arrived. The first few lines contained the familiar place names and numbers, but the last line was the shortest, yet most important—[Yaoguang: The Cloud-Gazing Mirror has been dispatched from the Yuque, accompanied by a seventeen-person entourage of Divination Commission and Ceremonial Attendants. It is expected to arrive at Fanghu in ten days.]

Fu Xuan finished reading, he looked up at Jingxing.

"Ten days," Jingxing said. "By the time it arrives, the Jidu Mirage will be almost fully formed. Doesn't this thing need any adjustments?"

"No need," Fu Xuan shook his head. "Once it's properly installed, it can be used immediately."

"And the Divination Commission also with them," Jingxing said thoughtfully. "I suspect your master is likely among them as well."

Fu Xuan pursed his lips, his hand that was tapping the Jade Abacus paused.

"Don't get distracted when replying," Jingxing said.

"It's you who's distracting me." Fu Xuan rolled his eyes, then lowered his head to look at Jade Abacus again.

A boat passed by on the river, the sound of oars striking the water, carried through the mist to Starskiff. Jingxing felt he had recovered almost completely and prepared to pick up Cloud-Washing Ink-Tracer again. His peripheral vision caught sight of the booklet spread out on the table. The latest page listed the number of "ink blocks" and the time of their production, but in the two-finger-width space at the bottom, a few words had already begun. He only saw half a line:

"... If the mirror opens, this seat..."

Fu Xuan's hand covered it.

What are you looking at?

"Your handwriting is quite elegant and refined." Jingxing withdrew his gaze.

"We'll divide the work," she said, closing the booklet and placing it at the bottom of the box. "You have things that are your responsibility, so leave the rest to me."

Jingxing originally wanted to ask what else was written after "Ruojingqi," but the words he was about to say changed to "Okay."

When he made his first stroke, Jingxing's fingers were still numb. He bit his cheek to steady the brush tip, and the surface of the inkstone dipped slightly as a drop of ink fell to the bottom, slowly condensing into a small piece the size of a fingernail.

Although the pain had subsided, the exertion still left his back damp with a thin layer of sweat.

After a moment, a warm hand covered the back of his hand that was holding the pen. Fu Xuan did not write for him, but simply pressed it gently. Her palm was cool and refreshing, which was just right to dispel some of his fatigue.

Jingxing didn't turn around. He continued making the second and third pieces. Fu Xuan didn't say anything either, just kept holding Jingxing's hand.

When Jingxing was completely exhausted again, he simply leaned back. Although Fu Xuan was small in stature and had an office job on the Xianzhou, she was quite strong. She supported him from behind and carried Jingxing back to the bedroom.

"Really..." Fu Xuan put his hands on his hips, looked at Jingxing was comfortably squinting his eyes, and muttered to himself, "I've never taken care of anyone before."

The fog Fanghu thickened further at night. Jingxing simply stayed in bed, accepting the care of the Lord Diviner with a clear conscience.

Fu Xuan put down the bowl and then casually pinched a piece of rice cake and stuffed it into Jingxing's mouth. Jingxing, with his cheeks puffed out, mumbled, "Lord Diviner, your feeding method is almost like feeding a cat."

"You've reminded me," Fu Xuan said, patting the crumbs off his hands. "After everything's over, why don't you stay in Luofu with me? I'd be happy to raise you like a cat."

"That won't do, I'm a human." Jingxing teased with a grin, "Speaking of cats, I feel that the Lord Diviner is more like one, isn't he?"

Fu Xuan, expressionless, reached out and pressed his hand against Jingxing's eyelids, forcing him to close his eyes and rest. "Go to sleep early."

The rain outside the window grew heavier, and the river mist almost enveloped Starskiff like a cocoon. Jingxing closed his eyes and felt the edge of the bed sink slightly— Fu Xuan was sitting there, opening the booklet, the soft, steady sound of the pen gliding across the paper blending with the rain like a reassuring rhythm.