A Cheng looked at the woman.
She exposed her naturally white body to the air, her dark hair tied in a casual bun with a verdant twig. Her gaze swept around, and when she saw A Cheng, she merely smiled.
A Cheng met her eyes.
A pair of beautiful eyes, calm, reflecting the mountains, forests, and lake. A Cheng lowered his head, staring at his dirty Xixi cloth shoes.
The woman hummed softly, her voice clear, soaring to the clouds.
Several beasts emerged from the shadows of the forest: a large red leopard accompanied by a group of small civets, and a spiritual white ape. They passed A Cheng, and he could feel their warmth and a faint floral scent. Even the wild beasts smelled fragrant?
A Cheng watched as the white ape placed a set of clothes by the lakeside. The goddess walked lightly on the ripples of the lake, her steps creating circles, as if she were treading on a stone path covered in puddles.
Arriving at the lakeside, the woman unhurriedly put on her clothes, then straddled the broad back of the red leopard. A Cheng looked up at her again; dressed in a plain white ruqun, she seemed to be wrapped in mist, and her body emitted a faint, clear light, like a bright moon.
A Cheng asked, "Who are you?"
"I, Bi Li, you, human."
The woman spoke slowly, but her voice was very gentle.
A Cheng scratched his head, feeling an unusual sensation in his heart. It wasn't the satisfaction from food, nor the joy of hearing a joke, nor the ambition from martial arts progress. It was different, unusual—pleasure.
He couldn't help but want to talk to this woman more.
"My name is Qian Fucheng, you can call me A Cheng."
"A Cheng." When the woman spoke these two words, melodies surged from her throat, like an elegant chant. She gently covered her mouth, a little flustered. "A Cheng, you, Bi Li, I." She enunciated carefully, yet the end of her words still rose.
A Cheng smiled, "Bi Li."
"Hmm?" The woman tilted her head, and the red leopard beneath her also tilted its head, blinking.
"Are you a mountain spirit?"
"What is a mountain spirit?" Bi Li spoke much more fluently this time. She revealed a small, delighted smile, patted the red leopard, walked to A Cheng, and circled him.
A Cheng watched the woman, watched the red leopard, appearing before him, first a part, then another part, then disappearing, like a revolving lantern. He was the candle, and Bi Li was the picture book of legendary stories.
A Cheng sang softly, "If there is a person by the mountain's curve, wearing epiphyllum and cinching her waist with ivy."
It's as if someone passed by that mountain corner, it is I, draped in epiphyllum with ivy at my waist.
"With a captivating gaze and a lovely smile, you admire my graceful figure."
With a gaze full of affection and a charming smile, how beautiful, you will admire my graceful posture.
Bi Li stopped in front of him, listening to his every line, every word piled up, as if the words he spoke would glow. Boundless stars, boundless moonlight, boundless beautiful women, all drifted out from the sky, from the earth, from the crevices of the mountains, from the traces of flowing water, from everywhere, rising and falling, floating, swirling, in a chaotic jumble, surrounding all sentient beings, stacking up into a dazzling painting. Whether turning to look around, or looking up and down, one could see it, as if entering a poet's strange dream.
"So, beautiful." Bi Li couldn't speak again. She frowned, her tongue tapping her lower jaw, making a clicking sound, accompanying A Cheng's tune. Her gaze wandered, and a smile unconsciously appeared on her face.
A Cheng sang Qu Yuan's "Mountain Spirit," staring intently at Bi Li.
The subtle expressions on her face, her glowing skin stretched, her features seemed to speak, conveying infinite deep affection.
That wonderful feeling once again struck his heart, different, unusual—joy.
Even a long song eventually ends. A Cheng drew out the last line, "I miss my lord with only sorrow," for an extraordinarily long time. He wished this sentence would never end, letting time stop at the last word, just before it left his lips, so he could clearly see how joyful he truly was.
The lingering sound dissipated into the cold, damp night air. Bi Li squinted, smiling with bared teeth, like a well-fed civet, stretching languidly under the boundless, gentle moonlight.
"Ah, I, very, like."
"If you like it, I'll sing it a few more times."
Bi Li shook her head, "I, can sing, you listen."
"...Riding a red leopard, followed by striped civets, a magnolia chariot, with osmanthus banners..."
Strange, A Cheng smiled blankly. Bi Li spoke haltingly, but when she sang, her voice was like a clear spring breaking through rocks, flowing smoothly and grandly for a thousand miles.
Birds chirped in unison, thousands of insects sang loudly in harmony, and countless beasts stopped, listening intently.
As for A Cheng—joy. He was immersed in an ocean of pleasure, wishing he could drown in it.
After Bi Li finished singing, the echo still reverberated through the mountains and forests.
"Very beautiful."
Bi Li tilted her head, "I, know, very beautiful, I like it, you also, like it."
A Cheng looked at the peerlessly beautiful Bi Li, feeling dizzy.
"I like it."
Bi Li giggled, jumped off the red leopard's back, and sat next to A Cheng, "Anything else?"
"Yes."
A Cheng tentatively sat down, maintaining a distance. He didn't dare to meet Bi Li's gaze, only looking at the lake, recalling the "Book of Odes" little by little. The words, the shimmering water, and the moonlight all blended together, and he was surprisingly at a loss for words.
"Speak."
"Guan Guan cry the ospreys..."
Until the sun rose, A Cheng woke up, his body drenched with dew.
He frantically looked around. There was no one by the lake, the red leopard, the civets, the white ape, all were gone, and she was nowhere to be seen.
The Epiphyllum Seal on his brow flickered. A Cheng guessed it was his Father's urging. He was a little scared, quickly searched around, and seeing the Bodhisattva statue, he breathed a sigh of relief, now he could account for himself.
Sure enough, Father had sent dozens of messages, A-Zhi had also sent a few, and there was one from Bi Li.
These messages floated in the small Pure Land of his mind, illusory figures, each with their own expressions. For example, Father's dozens of messages, dozens of phantoms, their faces getting fouler with each one, while A-Zhi was still blank, and as for Bi Li, she was smiling.
A Cheng ignored Father's and A-Zhi's messages, focusing his thoughts on Bi Li's figure.
In the Pure Land, the silent Bi Li saw his arrival and immediately said happily, "You, came, you will come again, I, will wait for you, tonight."
A Cheng chose his words, wondering how to reply to her.
After thinking for a long time, he squeezed out a "Good."
He checked the message he sent: a phantom of A Cheng, with a stern face, a single word popping out from between his teeth, as if he bore a deep grudge.
Should he think of another one? Never mind, send it.
A Cheng carried the small Bodhisattva dharma body statue home. His dad was waiting at the door with a thorn branch. Seeing him wet and holding the Buddha statue, his expression immediately softened. He tossed the thorn branch back into the corner and waited for A Cheng to walk up to him.
His son looked up at his Father, holding up the Buddha statue to hand to him.
Father didn't take it immediately, but first pressed his palms together in a bow. Then, he poked his son's head with a thick finger, glared at him, and only then took the Buddha statue, looking overjoyed.
A Cheng rubbed his forehead, looking back at that mountain.
Bi Li, wait for me.
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