webnovel

Sound of the Rain

Love, loyalty, and destiny: the legend of the White Snake reimagined. In a world ruled by honour and power, where demons and spirits live among humans and immortals, the snake spirit Bai Suzhen has to decide how far she will go to protect her love for the mortal physician, Xuxian--when the relentless monk Fahai is determined to separate them. *dear readers: this is my first ever webnovel and I hope to be able to finish it! do leave a comment or rating to encourage me or give me feedback!

Lanhua · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
232 Chs

The Beauty of the Moon

For a moment both men stood motionless, watching in disbelief as they watched Suzhen fighting. Yuanzheng shook his head incredulously. "Sister-in-law is good. She can fight better than any of us. She knows how to use a sword. Look at her. Look at that!" exultantly.

Xuxian watched silently, his heart in his mouth. He saw how sure and precise her thrusts were, saw how she handled her double swords without hesitation. He winced as he saw the bandit she was fighting with cut at her, even though Suzhen ducked and ripped his tunic with a quick answering thrust that drew blood.

Yuanzheng clenched his fist. "She's good," he repeated fiercely. "Thank the gods. We have hope."

"Fire--fire--help--ah, someone, anyone, help! Water--someone fetch water--"

"Gong Yezi," exclaimed Xuxian suddenly, and ran forward.

Yuanzheng turned and saw the old man running out of his house as the roof burned furiously, clutching a misshapen bundle of his belongings and lamenting loudly. From the corners of the bundle several scrolls could be seen sticking out, and a piece of silver fell onto the ground, winking brightly. Gong Yezi was half-dressed, with only one of his shoes on, and he had clearly been roused from sleep. Confused, frightened, and bewildered by the noise outside, he had not dared to come out, but when his roof had caught on fire he had no choice but to gather up as much of his belongings as he could, and escape. It was just like him to bother with his scrolls, his vanity not allowing him to abandon any of his attempts at calligraphy, even though they were a bulky burden in a situation that was already life-or-death.

It was the silver that fell out of his bundle, however, that drew fatal attention.

Xuxian felt his heart sink as a second piece of silver hit the ground, unwontedly brilliant.

Gong Yezi gave a roar of fright and outrage as a bandit suddenly blocked his way, snatching his bundle roughly from him. He clung wildly to the bundle even as Xuxian shouted desperately, "Let go of it, Gong Yezi! Let go!"

He knew even as he shouted that it was no use, even if the old man could hear him over the chaos, he was too frightened and dazed to understand. He broke into a run, not even knowing what he was going to do, simply driven by a sense of dread.

Suzhen turned sharply as she heard Xuxian's voice ring out. Savagely she knocked a bandit off his feet with a well-aimed kick to the ankles, and her sword hilt thudded heavily down on his temple as he fell. Using him as a springboard she sprang up onto the porch, grabbing the shallow fence and vaulting over it.

With a snarl of impatience, the bandit slashed swiftly at Gong Yezi and kicked him backwards, yanking the bundle from him and turning to run off the steps as the beams overhead groaned and the crackling roof threatened to cave in.

Suzhen saw the blade flash in the air and knew she would not be in time. She lunged forward, the fingers of her left hand rapidly uncurling from the sword hilt and reforming around them so the blade lay flat and aligned with her wrist. Pulling her arm back, she hurled the sword vehemently forward across the short space between them, with a small, unseen burst of energy propelling it.

The bandit staggered, checked in his tracks by the sword piercing through him. He clutched spasmodically at the bundle and finally dropped it as he tumbled off the steps woodenly, limbs flailing about limply like a doll. The bundle hit the ground and spilled open like an overripe tangerine, revealing several scrolls stained with his blood, a jar of wine swaddled in a quilt like a baby, a small rosewood casket, and a money pouch that lay pathetically flat and empty after a single last piece of silver rolled out.

Suzhen leaped over his body and crouched on the porch besides Gong Yezi's form. The old man was dying. She saw the blood gushing out from his wrinkled throat, and tried helplessly to staunch the bleeding with a shaking hand. His wide, shocked eyes stared up at her, and a glimmer of recognition dawned in them. She forced a smile, trying to reassure him, while the warm blood bubbled gaily through her fingers, and she felt tears sting her eyes.

His lips moved uselessly and she knew he was trying to say her name.

"Gong Yezi, it's me, Suzhen. We'll take care of you. Don't worry. Xuxian will take care of you, you'll be fine," she panted, and it sounded like a sob.

He pointed vaguely at the scrolls on the ground behind her, or perhaps he was pointing at the jar of wine, lying on its side like an absurd rolypoly baby in a quilted jacket, and something like a ghastly smile curved his lips. Then his last breath gurgled in his throat, and she knew he was dead when his head lolled back crookedly.

Suzhen caught her breath sharply, her eyes blurring as they swam with tears. The beams overhead crackled fiercely and the heat stung against her skin but she was oblivious. She was remembering a starless night with a moon as radiant as a luminous pearl, and Gong Yezi's dreamy smile as he tipped back his head for another swig of wine. The slow wag of his finger as he pronounced the name of his beloved fox fairy, with great deliberation, as if it was the first time he had ever spoken it, as if it was a choice morsel, a rare sweetmeat.

She looked up through her tears and saw the moon high above, far above the flames leaping over head, a pale, ridiculous shadow in the sky, thin as a fingernail paring. The beauty of the moon awakens memories of the past...

There was a crash overhead, but she heard it only dimly, lost in the sudden poignancy of the moment.