He touched the very end of the funnel structure, the narrowest point, and gently pressed his fingertip against the back of the paper. The paper surface bulged slightly there—he had applied some pressure when he drew it, making the cinnabar layer thicker on the front. As he made this stroke, Snow Empress squatted beside him, his fingertip pointing precisely at the end of the arc of the array diagram, saying that the interface should be connected here.
He rolled up the parchment and put it back into the leather tube, then placed the tube on the corner of the table. After doing this, he stood up and walked to the bedside, looking down at the person lying on it. Snow Empress was sleeping on her side, facing the wall, her back to him, her black hair spread out on half of the bed. The hand that had been clutching the jade box had slid from her chest to her waist, her knuckles completely loose, and the jade box rested quietly beside her pillow. The lid had somehow popped open half an inch, and the light from the two ice-blue crystals leaked out from the gap, casting two pale blue halos on the pillow, flickering with her breathing.
Yin Wujou squatted down and gently closed the lid of the jade box, then pushed it closer to the pillow. After doing this, he didn't stand up immediately, but squatted there, gazing at the outline of her shoulder. Her outer robe was slightly askew from being asleep, the collar loosely open, and the bluish-gray vein in the center of her collarbone was almost invisible in the darkness, but he knew it was there, slowly spreading towards her heart. Like a vine planted in her flesh and blood, its roots so deep that there was nothing he could do but watch it grow.
He stood up and walked back to the wooden table, took out the two spare luminous pearls from the copper box, and then found a small piece of tough cord to string the pearls together and hang them around his neck. After thinking for a moment, he took out a three-inch-long short blade from a hidden compartment at the bottom of the copper box. The blade was as thin as a willow leaf, and the edge was worn white. This knife was the one he used before he entered the Daoist path, and it had been sealed at the bottom of the box for many years without being touched. He hid the short blade in his sleeve, close to his wrist, and the cold metal against the panel made his arm break out in goosebumps.
After doing all this, he sat back down in the chair, leaned back, and closed his eyes. He didn't intend to sleep, but he allowed his body to enter a semi-sleep state—his breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed, but his ears remained constantly listening to the sounds on the couch. The water clock ticked away, and occasionally a short cry of a night bird could be heard outside the eaves. Water dripped from one section to the next in the copper sphere, and time flowed slowly in the quiet, dark gold.
At three quarters past the hour of Yin, the person on the bed stirred. Yin Wujou motionless in the chair, his eyes still closed, but he could sense that Snow Empress had turned over from lying on her side to lying on her back, and her breathing rhythm had changed—from the long, even breaths she had taken while sleeping to a shallower, shorter frequency. She was awake, but did not get up immediately; she simply lay there with her eyes open, staring at the amber-colored light cast by the oil lamp on the ceiling.
About an incense stick's time later, the sound of her sitting up came from the couch. There was the soft rustling of fabric, the sound of her feet hitting the ground, and then the sound of her sleeves being pulled open as she put on her outer robe. Yin Wujou then opened his eyes, turned his head and saw her standing by the couch, bending over to tie the sash of her outer robe. Her movements were unhurried and deliberate. After tying the sash, she put the jade box into her bosom, then looked up at him.
"You're not asleep," she said, her tone flat.
"I slept for a while," Yin Wujou said. He stood up and stretched his shoulders and neck, his bones cracking softly. "Are you hungry? I'll go to the kitchen and see if there's anything I can heat up."
Snow Empress stood there for a moment, then nodded. Yin Wujou turned and walked out of the hall. When he reached the door, he glanced back at her—she had already reached the wooden table, pulled out the paper from the leather tube, and was looking down at the patterns on the paper. The morning light had not yet penetrated, and the hall was only filled with the dim light of the oil lamp and the copper ball. She stood at the boundary between light and darkness, and the lines of her profile were thinner than yesterday.
The kitchen was on the west side of the backyard. When Yin Wujou pushed open the door, the stove was still cold. He rummaged through the cupboard and found half a bag of white rice and a few dried dates. He also noticed a small jar of honey and a few pieces of dried meat in the corner. He rinsed the rice and put it in a small pot to cook, chopped up the dried dates and threw them in, and then roasted the meat by the stove. While doing these things, his mind didn't stop. He went through every step of drawing cinnabar in the cave last night, making sure that every turn was perfectly connected. Snow Empress had pointed three times while he was drawing—each time pointing to the moment he was about to deviate from the lines, as accurate as if she had engraved the entire array in her mind beforehand.
The porridge was ready. Yin Wujou ladled two bowls into a coarse bowl, took two pieces of pickled radish from the jar, arranged the sliced meat on a plate, and put everything into the food box before carrying it back to the Wujou Hall. When he entered, Snow Empress had already rolled up the parchment again and was standing in front of the window on the east wall, looking out with her back to him. The sky was tinged with a crab-shell blue, and the old locust tree in the courtyard swayed its branches gently in the morning breeze, with several sparrows perched on the branches, chirping softly.
"Eat up." He placed the food box on the wooden table and opened it. Steam rose from the porridge, carrying the sweetness of dried dates and the aroma of rice.
Snow Empress walked over from the window, sat down at the table, and took the rough bowl he offered. She held the bowl, lowered her head, and took a sip of the porridge. The steaming porridge slid down her throat, and she felt a warmth spread through her body from within, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Yin Wujou sat opposite her, also taking a bowl of porridge. The two of them ate their breakfast quietly across the wooden table, neither of them speaking. After finishing her porridge, Snow Empress put down her bowl, picked up a piece of dried meat, and slowly chewed it, her gaze falling on the old locust tree outside the window.
"Today is the last day." She said this in a very calm voice, as if she were talking about something as ordinary as eating and drinking.
Yin Wujou put the bowl and chopsticks back into the food box without saying a word. He stood up, carried the food box to the corridor, and placed it there. When he returned, Snow Empress was already sitting on the long couch, placing the jade box on her lap and opening the lid. The two ice-blue crystals shone with a clear light in the morning light, like two frozen tears. She reached out and took one out, holding it in her palm. When the crystal touched her face, it emitted a barely audible buzz, like a small piece of ice melting into warm water. The blue on the surface of the crystal faded visibly, and the bluish-gray veins on the side of her neck also faded slightly, like ink being washed away by clear water.
She put the crystal back into the jade box, closed the lid, and then looked up at the brightly lit sky outside the window.
"There are still about four hours left," she said.
Yin Wujou sat on the chair by the wooden table, watching her. She sat by the couch in the sunlight, looking no different than before, her back straight, her hands folded on the lid of the jade box on her lap, her fingertips almost transparently white.