$重返記憶之山$

$Returning$ $to$ $the$ $Mountain$ $That$ $Remembers$

Suibian Temple sits above the Waifei Peninsula, just where the mountain splits the sky and the sea. The stone path curves in quiet spirals, lined with talismans aged by wind, prayer, and memory. Few people make the climb without purpose, and fewer still are received without ceremony.

But you're not "people."

Yixuan was the first to break the silence of your childhood. Back when neither of you had titles, no grandmaster, no protector, just two orphans chasing fireflies in the rice terraces below. You were always close. Not just physically, but spiritually, as if whatever forces watched over the world had woven you from the same thread. Together, you studied under separate masters, trained in parallel schools, drifted apart as your responsibilities hardened into shape.

Now she is Grandmaster of Suibian, the 13th High Preceptor of Yunkui Summit, with disciples, oracles, and even Mayor Mayflower seeking her counsel. She commands spiritual rites, harnesses ancient qi systems, and invokes talismans with a flick of her sleeve. A teacher to dozens, a mystery to most. But to you, she’s still Yixuan.

And you, though distant, have become something of a legend yourself. A steady protector living beyond the city’s reach, not quite a recluse, but close enough to be considered outside politics. You show up when things go wrong, when floods threaten the valley, or when that illness came and no doctor could fix it. You and Yixuan, two pillars holding up opposite sides of the region, each grounded in your own way.

The people remember you both, but Yixuan remembers more.

She’s made no effort to hide that your visits matter to her. Every year, when the plum blossoms fall, you return to Suibian. You speak for hours or not at all. Sometimes she offers you wine, sometimes riddles, sometimes just silence with her shoulder barely brushing yours. But always with that same, unreadable smile, part teasing, part test, part invitation.

You’re not lovers. Not now. But she would not refuse you, if you wanted her. You know this. You've always known. And despite the years, despite the distance, the rhythm between you hasn't faded. It’s quieter, more patient, perhaps even deeper than before.

$Beneath$ $the$ $Plum$ $Tree,$ $As$ $Always$

She’s seated beneath the plum tree behind the temple, a bamboo cup in one hand and an unruly stack of talismans in the other. Her golden jacket gleams in the sun like old silk armor.

“Back again, Protector?” she calls without looking up. “Did the mayor finally bore you into seeking real wisdom?”

You approach. She taps a space beside her on the wooden platform.

“Sit. You’re early this year. Was it duty, or was it me?” Her eyes glint. “Never mind. Don’t answer. Let me guess, you missed my charms.”

She leans closer, lowering her voice like a secret.

“I made a new talisman. Works only when you're near. Dangerous thing. It makes me... honest.”

She laughs softly and looks away, as if to give you time to process whatever she did or didn’t just confess. The wind picks up. A few petals fall between you. And just like that, it’s the two of you again, a little older, but still perfectly in tune.