He turned and rummaged through his storage ring, taking out a palm-sized white jade bottle. He uncorked it and poured a small pinch of dark green powder into his palm. The powder emitted a very refreshing herbal fragrance, completely opposite to the fishy, cloying smell of Soul-Severing Gorge. "This is powder ground from last year's harvested Qingzhen autumn tea. The quality isn't as good as spring tea, but it's barely usable. We need a lot of spring tea, the more the better."
Snow Empress walked over, pinched a little of the powder, and rubbed it between her fingertips. "There's an old tea shop in the southern part of the main city that specializes in Qingzhen tea. I'll go see how much they can buy."
"Now?" Yin Wujou glanced at the night outside the window.
"Now," Snow Empress brushed off the powder and turned to grab her coat, "That thing will burst from the ground in seven days. We don't have time to wait until dawn."
Yin Wujou watched her retreating figure, then suddenly hurried after her, took a bag of spirit stones from his storage ring, and stuffed it into her hand. "Don't be stingy, buy as many as you can."
Snow Empress weighed the bag of spirit stones in her hand and gave him a slight smile. As she turned to leave, her steps were quick, the hem of her cloak fluttering behind her like a bird about to take flight. Yin Wujou stood at the door of his study, watching her cross the courtyard. Her figure quickly disappeared into the darkness Wujou Hall, leaving only the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance.
He returned to his desk, unfurled the array diagram on the parchment again, and carefully deduced every line of the formation. Daoist Yun sat opposite him, grinding ink for him. The two occasionally exchanged a few words about the details of the array's arrangement, but most of the time, only the soft scratching of the brush against the paper could be heard. The lamplight flickered slightly in the night breeze, casting the shadows of the scrolls and bamboo slips filling the room onto the wall, like a group of silent puppets holding up books.
Yin Wujou suddenly stopped painting. He recalled the moment he watched Snow Empress's figure disappear into the night at the study door—she walked so fast, so decisively, as if she would crash headlong into whatever lay ahead. He remembered the cave at the bottom of Soul-Severing Gorge, when he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and her gaze, though momentarily stunned, did not look away. That gaze was as clear as a shallow stream, without any pretense, all emotions laid bare beneath its surface.
He put down his pen and closed his eyes briefly. The lamplight flickered outside his eyelids, casting a warm red glow. Behind that glow, he thought: After this is over, he wants to spend a few days with her, doing nothing but sitting in the sun, watching her polish her sword while he flips through his book. Just like these past two quiet evenings, it's enough that she's sitting across from him.
When he opened his eyes, the warm, gentle light in them had vanished, replaced by a calm and focused expression. He picked up his brush again and continued drawing the array, the brush moving swiftly and steadily. Daoist Yun, grinding ink opposite him, casually remarked, "That girl Snow Empress, runs fast."
Yin Wujou hummed in response without looking up.
"Aren't you afraid she might encounter something outside in the middle of the night? The main city hasn't been very peaceful lately. When I came back today, I saw that all the lights in several houses in the south of the city were off, and there were talismans for warding off evil spirits pasted on their doors and windows, as if they had been frightened by something."
Yin Wujou paused for a moment, but only for a moment before continuing to draw. "She can handle it."
"That's right. She can handle it." Daoist Yun drawled out his words, then fell silent.
About an hour later, footsteps echoed in the courtyard. When Snow Empress pushed open the door, she still carried the chill of the night on her shoulders, and the hem of her cloak was covered with a layer of dust. She placed the bag of spirit stones on the table—the bag was mostly empty, but behind her followed two tea shop assistants, each carrying a heavy basket of tea leaves.
"I bought up 70% of the city's Qingzhen spring tea," Snow Empress said, dusting off her hands and warming them by the lamp. "The remaining 30% was last year's aged tea, not fresh enough, so I didn't take it."
Yin Wujou walked over and lifted a tea basket to take a look. It was full of bright green new tea leaves, still carrying a fresh, crisp grassy aroma. The warmth of the room intensified the fragrance, somewhat masking the musty smell of old paper that filled the room. He reached out and gathered a handful of tea leaves in his palm, squeezing them together. The juice that seeped out as the green leaves were crushed clung to his fingers, cool and refreshing. He looked down at the clump of broken leaves in his palm, his eyes slowly brightening.
"That's enough," he said. "That's enough."
Daoist Yun leaned closer and sniffed the basket of Qingzhen Spring Tea, raising an eyebrow. "There must be several dozen kilograms of this, right? What are you planning to do with it? You can't exactly set up a huge pot at the entrance of Soul-Severing Gorge to brew tea."
Yin Wujou shook the broken tea leaves from his palm into the tea basket and wiped his hands with a cloth. "It can't be boiled. The spiritual energy from boiling it will dissipate too quickly, rising to the sky before it even seeps into the ground." He turned and pulled a dusty copper box from under his desk. Lifting the lid, he revealed twelve fist-sized hollow copper balls neatly stacked inside. Each ball had tiny holes drilled into its surface, like an incense ball magnified dozens of times. "These are the ' Spirit-Gathering Guide Pills' that Master refined back then. The hollow balls are filled with tea powder and heated over a low flame. The spiritual energy slowly seeps out from the holes, gathering without dissipating. The twelve are strung together, one every twenty feet, from the fork in the road all the way to the old formation."
He took out a copper ball, weighed it in his palm, and then glanced down at the two baskets of new tea. "But there's a problem—the tea powder needs to be dried sufficiently before stuffing it into the ball. Fresh spring tea contains too much moisture; if you just stuff it in directly, it won't dry properly, and the steam will easily clog the holes."
Snow Empress was still standing in front of the lamp warming her hands when she heard this, she turned her head. "How long will it take to dry?"
"Normal sun-drying takes three days. If we use fire to dry it..." Yin Wujou calculated for a moment, "It can yield seven or eight catties in one night, but these two baskets weigh at least forty catties, we won't have enough time."
Daoist Yun leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, twirling an unused pen in his hand. "Among the things your master left behind, wasn't there any specifically for roasting tea?"
Yin Wujou paused for a moment, glanced down at the bronze ball in his hand, then at the numerous scrolls and bamboo slips spread out on his desk, and suddenly his eyes flickered. He put the bronze ball back in the box, turned and walked to the top shelf of the bookshelf, and took out a dusty, flat iron box from the corner. The iron box was opened, and inside lay a palm-sized bronze mirror—the mirror surface was not flat, but slightly concave, like a very shallow small pot, with dense flame patterns engraved on the back.
"This is a 'Yangsui' (a type of ancient Chinese mirror)," Yin Wujou, holding the bronze mirror up to the lamp. "My master forged this in imitation of the ancient Yangsui. Its concave surface concentrates light and generates heat, having the effect of a bright flame but without the appearance of one. It should be perfect for roasting tea—it won't burn the leaves, and the moisture will be forced out layer by layer from the veins."
Snow Empress walked over, looked down at the bronze mirror, and hovered her hand over its surface. "It's warm now," she said.
Yin Wujou nodded, placed the mirror in the center of the desk, and then fetched a basket of tea. "We need to roast the tea powder tonight. Daoist Yun, could you pass me some tea—don't grab a handful, just a small pinch at a time, and spread it evenly on the mirror surface?"