Ten Thousand Books, But Only One You

05 The book Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree: Volume I

Chapter 5: The book Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree Volume I

During winter, the days were short and the nights were long. As the sunlight began to drain away, the skies overhead bled briefly with pink and violet hues, signalling to street vendors and shopkeepers alike that it was time to light up their lanterns.

The crowded market street teeming with people from all walks of life was flanked by two rows of shops and street vendors. Herds of martial artists from various factions and alliances roamed about makeshift booths, fancy restaurants and teahouses, as well as shops selling weaponry, jewellery and local specialities. As the martial arts convention was the next day, excitement and anticipation lingered in the air, which also carried the savoury aroma of food.

My feet dragged wearily across the dusty and gritty bazaar ground while my arms ached under the weight of a stack of parcels piled mountain high. The back of my neck ached from craning sideways to peer around the obstruction to my vision. Having walked all afternoon, I was famished and footsore. Blisters had formed at the sides and back of my feet. The boots that Xiao Lan gave were hard and rough, and were not at all like the comfortable trainers that modern society was blessed with.

A cool, crisp breeze wafted the fragrance of meat buns towards us. Searching for the source, I did not have to look far before I caught sight of a street vendor lifting a wooden lid off a stack of bamboo baskets. A cloud of white steam gushed out before dissipating into the icy air. My mouth started to water at the sight of the fluffy white steamed buns cradled comfortably in the bamboo steamer which would give them a subtle woody scent. I could already imagine biting into the juicy savoury meat at the centre of the soft warm bun and the lingering aftertaste of warmth and homeliness.

"Young lady! Come try our steamed buns!" The street vendor noticed my longing gaze and called out with a broad smile. I swallowed and gave an awkward smile.

"Can we get that?" I raised my voice above the noise, hoping to get Mo Yue's attention. But he did not seem to have heard me and kept going. My heart sank at the lost opportunity to satiate my hunger and I shuffled after him begrudgingly. How could he continue to remain unmoved and not be tempted by the wide array of food that had passed us by? The entire afternoon, we had not stopped at a single food place. All we did was enter shops after shops for Mo Yue to purchase useless items like clothes, weapon accessories, writing materials. Claiming that they were going to be souvenirs, he also bought boxes of local delicacies and snacks but never opened a single one to taste.

Weaving deftly through the crowd, Mo Yue turned off the street and entered a fan shop. I hurried to follow him, and narrowly avoided crashing into an exiting customer as I navigated the steps leading up to the entrance.

Fans of different designs, shapes and sizes stood on countertops and on tall shelves against the wall. A few extraordinarily large folding fans made of silk were proudly displayed in the most prominent location of the shop for customers to admire the intricate and detailed paintings on them. One fan had a painting of bright yellow chrysanthemums accompanied by a poem in illegible scrawls; and another had a landscape of mountains and rivers painted on its white silk.

To avoid bumping into the well-dressed and scholarly martial heroes who steadily streamed into the shop, I stood against the wall of the shop, next to a standing lamp. The slight warmth from the candle flame permeated the lampshade and spread to my cheeks, a contrast against the chill air. Jolting out of my introspective idleness, I search around the shop for Mo Yue. He was busy studying a handheld folding fan with four characters on it written in calligraphy pen. I sighed internally, feeling the blood in my temples. He was taking too long to window shop for fans.