Murky Shadows Beneath the Ice

The cold wind hissed through the trees with an eerie sound, like the death rattle of a dying man.

Fahai squinted through the whirling snowflakes. He had clearly seen Bai Suzhen leave the village and set off on the path towards the mountains. But she had disappeared after that and the rapidly falling snow covered up any footprints that might have shown him where she had gone. For two hours he had been roaming the mountain, trying to catch a glimpse of her, often misled by a fleeting shadow or a rock which from a distance looked like a kneeling figure.

What could she have possibly gone to the mountains for? She had waited till Physician Xu had left for town with Yuanzheng before leaving--he had watched her see them off, then almost immediately leave as well in the opposite direction. There must be something she was hiding from him, something which would be definite proof of her true identity. Was she simply going to cultivate in the mountains and replenish her internal energy? Or was she out for human blood again, already? Had she already developed a craving for it?

He frowned. If the latter, he was determined not to let another person die the way Zheng Haoran had died. He must track down Bai Suzhen and see what she was up to. This behaviour from her could not be anything but suspicious.

Pushing on through the snow, he went up the slope with the help of his staff, oblivious to the cold seeping through his thin cloth shoes. For years since he had learnt to discipline his mind and body, forcing himself to focus on one thing at expense of everything else. Part of his training in the temple, it had enabled him to meditate in harsh conditions, or for days without food, but it had also kept him sane. He found great satisfaction, but also relief, in knowing he could discipline his thoughts and emotions through this method. How else could he have endured all those nights, seeing that white bur of a face and those unforgettable eyes, surfacing in every dream, every nightmare?

He had been a young man when it happened. A novice monk who had just resolved to lay aside everything--even his childhood sweetheart--and dedicate his life in the temple. It had been a difficult decision, looking at Nawen's tearful eyes, but he had felt it was for the best. They had shared one last, sweet, sweet kiss--at times he still found his mind straying to memories of how her lips had tasted, moist and tender like a slice of rainwashed peach, with the faintest saltiness from her tears.

He had torn himself away, even as she wept and cried that she could only love him, how could she ever love anyone else? Yet there had been something sweet in that sorrow too, at first--before everything that had to do with her became poisoned in his mind. Even then he had found comfort in knowing that he had been steadfast.

When he entered the temple, he had resolutely shunned all thoughts of her and his life in the past, letting them go like how the strands of his hair fluttered away on the wind when they shaved his head. Sometimes he thought wistfully of her, and hoped that she would live happily without him, instead of grieving for him.

And then one day, an ordinary middle-aged woman had come to offer incense at the temple. He had held the censer for her, guiding her clumsy hands, as she knelt respectfully at the shrine. She prayed for blessings on her son, Yao Guang, who was about to marry Miss Nawen the next day--his hand had started so violently the hot ash scattered and burnt him.

Frozen, he had listened in shock as the woman prayed enthusiastically for a harmonious and fruitful marriage, for the couple to be blessed with many children, and to be filial to their parents.

She had thanked him and chattered happily about the wedding while he stood there trapped in a storm of emotions he had never known existed in himself. He did not even know when she left. The next few days had been torture; bewildered, betrayed, hurt, all at the same time. Not until now did he realize how much he had loved her. That, though he thought he was willing to give her up, it drove him crazy to think she had forgotten him so easily, despite all her tears and promises, and chosen to marry another man. He tried to reason with himself, too ashamed to confess it to his superior lest they deemed him unworthy, since he was still a novice who was being tested. Every time he thought he had wrestled with it and resolved it, he would find himself plunged into the darkest emotions again by a passing memory of the way she smiled, or how she loved green bean biscuits, or the pet names she had called him; anything that reminded him of her.

It was a wonder he had not gone mad, those few days. Knowing that the wedding had taken place, yet unable to find out anything more. Imagining how Nawen was living happily with another man, having completely forgotten about him and the past they had shared together, and how she had cried after him that she would only love him in this lifetime. Forced to continue chanting prayers and going about the simple, isolated life in the temple as if nothing else existed outside those walls. At times, the temple had seemed like a prison he chafed against. At times, it had been a refuge he was grateful to hide away in.

And then had come one bitingly cold winter's night, when the temple had run out of firewood and he had volunteered to go search for more, grateful for a chance to distract himself from his thoughts.

He was the only one in the forest, the snow crunching under his feet and the cloud of his warm breath hanging perpetually before him. The frozen lake had gleamed like a polished mirror, reflecting the moon in its smooth glassy surface, so brilliant that the murky shadows beneath the ice could not be seen.

As he crouched under the tree, breaking the branches he had gathered into shorter lengths so they could fit inside his basket, the sounds of voices could be heard drifting towards him in the silence of the night.

A couple came walking along the path besides the lake. The man carried a lantern, which swung giddily on its stick, throwing weird shadows on the snow. Her arm twined with his, a woman walked besides him, laughing and teasing him; it was Nawen. Even at the distance he could recognize that smile, that face. How could he not?