Gentle rain, softly slanting

Light and shadow filtered through bamboo gaps; a wildcat chased butterflies among the trees.

Jiang Yang stood at the edge of the Bamboo Grove. A cool breeze stirred his hair, and he straightened his fluttering hem, smiling as he watched Little Sixteen leap about.

He had only recently emerged from meditation. The little fellow was clever enough not to bother him while he drew in and released Spirit Vigor, and had happily played alone.

More than a month had slipped by without his noticing. Though he was constantly traveling back and forth, he was naturally adaptable and had gradually grown accustomed to this rhythm of cultivation.

Under his careful daily tending, the [Clear-Sound Jade Bamboo] had begun putting out Growth. According to Shang Qingzheng, all three plants were developing well.

They certainly lived up to their status as Spirit Treasures. With ample Spirit Vigor and proper care, they showed no adverse reactions whatsoever.

To be safe, checking on them remained the first thing Jiang Yang did after finishing his cultivation each day.

Jiang Yang bent down and flicked a finger against a bamboo seedling's slender, white-jade-like stem.

"Twang!"

A Clear Melody rang out, distant and lilting. Though brief, it was inexplicably pleasing to the ear.

This was a characteristic of Clear-Sound Jade Bamboo. Once mature, it would ring with a clear note whenever struck, possessing the wondrous ability to calm the mind, steady the temperament, and ward off malign influences. It was Birth suited to becoming a magical instrument for the musical arts.

Jiang Yang had done this every day since they took root in the soil, checking whether they had become infested with Dusk Bugs.

If a Bamboo Dusk Weevil was secretly gnawing at one, its sound would turn muddied. Left alone, it really would die on him.

Jiang Yang had also kept in mind that they could not bear the sound of anguished weeping. Still, this area was sparsely populated, so there was little need to guard against that.

Aside from the girl occasionally bringing her cat over to play every two or three days, Jiang Yang hardly received any visitors.

Once they had grown familiar with each other, Shang Qingzheng no longer needed to search for Little Sixteen when the cat went roaming through the Bamboo Grove. She could simply head straight for Jiang Yang's place and find the cat every time.

With the girl nowhere in sight, Jiang Yang guessed that the cat had sneaked out alone again.

He stood and formed a hand seal, remembering to cast a Meridian-Stabilizing Spell on each bamboo seedling before turning to give the cat's head a vigorous rub.

Shang Qingzheng lightly pushed off with her feet, her figure swaying through the grove.

Lately, she had grown increasingly fond of coming this way. The intervals between her visits had gradually shortened from seven or eight days to two or three.

At first, she had needed to find excuses to persuade herself to come. Now she could not even be bothered to find one.

Whenever the urge struck, she would casually pat Little Sixteen's bottom. The clever little fellow understood at once and scampered eagerly out of sight.

Only then would Shang Qingzheng take her time, putting on the appearance of arriving belatedly.

From afar, she spotted the young man's Growth, graceful figure. He was holding Little Sixteen's snowy-white paws and chattering away about something.

Instinctively, she slowed her steps, intending to listen.

After rubbing the cat's head for a while, Jiang Yang felt considerably better.

He smoothed the cat's fur, patted that little head, and settled Little Sixteen on his lap, reaching out a finger to toy with the cat's ears.

As footsteps approached, Jiang Yang turned, saw Shang Qingzheng, and greeted her with a smile.

"You're here."

"Mm."

Shang Qingzheng answered and walked slowly over, the jade flute at her waist swaying with each step.

Stopping in front of Jiang Yang, she braced both hands on her knees and bent halfway down, pretending to scold Little Sixteen.

"You can't stay still for a moment, can you? Off running about again."

Little Sixteen did not even look at her. Scrabbling with all four legs, the cat rolled over on Jiang Yang's lap, then darted toward the stone table the instant those paws touched the ground, crouching there to lick a paw and wash that little face.

"Oh, right. What were you saying to Little Sixteen just now?"

Seeing the cat run off, Shang Qingzheng turned to question the young man beside her.

Jiang Yang froze for a moment, then answered vaguely.

"Nothing much. Just talking to myself."

"Oh..."

Shang Qingzheng straightened and nodded in understanding, pacing lightly around Jiang Yang. Then she abruptly stopped and turned back to ask:

"Then what does this... 'hakimi' mean?"

"Huh?"

Caught completely off guard, Jiang Yang's heart jolted, and he stammered:

"Uh... nothing special. Hakimi is just a bit of country slang where I'm from."

Thinking quickly under pressure, Jiang Yang tossed out an excuse, though his heart secretly clenched with embarrassment.

Oh, no! How mortifying.

Jiang Yang had not expected anyone to catch him secretly acting silly with the cat. Fortunately, he had not said anything more outrageous, or it would have been difficult to explain.

In truth, when he first arrived at the Lower Court and was learning to speak, Jiang Yang had occasionally blurted out strange terms. His instructor had questioned him several times, and afterward he had consciously cut back.

This time, he had merely taken advantage of having no one around to mutter a little while rubbing the cat's head.

It was Shang Qingzheng's first time seeing Jiang Yang looking faintly embarrassed, and she found it rather novel. Secretly amused, she did not dwell on it.

After a moment's thought, she added:

"I wasn't deliberately eavesdropping, you know. I only happened to hear it, so I asked out of curiosity."

Jiang Yang composed himself, quickly casting aside his embarrassment, and turned to her.

"It's fine. When I'm alone, I often talk to myself, asking questions and answering them. It's a way of easing my emotions."

Shang Qingzheng's eyes lit up, though she then asked somewhat doubtfully:

"Really? Sometimes I feel so troubled that I can't settle into meditation. Would this help?"

Jiang Yang hardly dared guarantee that, so he could only suggest:

"It probably varies from person to person. You could try it in private. What if it works? There's no harm in trying."

"All right..."

Shang Qingzheng nodded gently and committed it to memory.

"Come and sit."

Jiang Yang walked toward the stone table, beckoning her over to take a seat.

They had barely sat down when the daylight retreated and a fine drizzle began falling from the sky.

The moment he noticed, Jiang Yang deftly formed the hand seal for the Water-Repelling Art. Magical power flowed out, immediately driving away the curtain of rain around him and keeping the space within three feet of him dry and fresh.

Strictly speaking, this minor spell had been the first technique Jiang Yang learned. A counterpart to the Water-Condensing Art, it was nothing miraculous, but exceptionally practical.

It was excellent for parting water or keeping off the rain, and Jiang Yang had become highly proficient with it. The reason was simple: this region naturally possessed abundant Water Veins. Rain was as commonplace as a daily meal, falling almost every day without fail.

When he looked across at her, a clear, hazy light bloomed around Shang Qingzheng. There was no discernible fluctuation of magical power; evidently, her enchanted robes came with an innate water-repelling effect.

"A fine rain nourishes like rich cream, but seeing too much of it can become tiresome," Jiang Yang said softly.

The rain pattered steadily. Though noisy to the ear, it somehow carried a sense of tranquility.

"Why?"

Seated neatly across from him, Shang Qingzheng looked at him with curiosity.

"Ah, back when my meridians hadn't opened, I couldn't learn the Water-Repelling Art yet. Rain was what I hated most. Every trip to and from the academy left me soaked like a chicken in soup. It was thoroughly miserable.

"And yet the rain seemed determined to oppose me. A soaking every three days, a drenching every five, always punctual, never missing a turn."

Jiang Yang sighed, reaching into the curtain of rain to catch a handful of water.

"But over these past few years, I've gone from rejecting it to silently accepting it, and finally to growing used to it. Even after I left the Lower Court, it stayed with me. Now, if it failed to fall one day, I'd feel uneasy instead."

After listening, Shang Qingzheng smiled faintly and spoke with a rather mysterious air.

"Good rain knows its season. You've certainly formed an inseparable bond with it. But do you know why it has never ceased, year after year?"

Jiang Yang considered briefly, then asked:

"Isn't it because this place has abundant Water Veins and plentiful moisture?"

Shang Qingzheng lifted her Growth, graceful neck to gaze at the sky and said softly:

"Then you know that it happens, but not why it happens. Abundant Water Veins are certainly one reason, but they aren't the principal cause."

"Oh? I'd love to hear the details."

As he spoke, Jiang Yang gestured for her to continue.

"Gentle rain, softly slanting, lies squarely in the northwest. Faint yang rises from within the earth to meet flourishing yin, possessing the power to moisten and nourish all things."