Be Gentle, Immortal Master-Chapter 121 - A Time For Families

We never made it to the side streets. More peddlers surrounded us after the woman left, tirelessly showing me their dazzling jewelry, dresses, trinkets … Bai Ye made no effort at all to stop them, and although I was sure they had up-priced everything that I showed the slightest interest in, he didn't seem to care. It wasn't until my stomach growled in protest that he finally nudged me out of the crowd and got me those long-promised mooncakes.

"Having a patron like you must be every peddler's dream," I said after coming out of the shop, sipping a sweet osmanthus rice wine drink. "It'll soon be so much to carry that you'll have to put them in your storage." I pointed at the loads of purchases in his hands.

Every cultivator had storage artifacts that could easily stow huge volumes, and I had been wondering when he would start using it. It'd be much more convenient than carrying everything like this all night.

He chuckled. "I like them this way." He moved the bags to one hand and wrapped his other arm around me. "Look at the others."

I followed his gaze. We were farther away from the performance stages now, and the loud young crowd had thinned down, replaced by families strolling leisurely. Some had their little children sitting on top of their shoulders. Some were helping the elders walk slowly. Some were just like us, ambling while leaning against each other, the men's hands full of bags.

I looked at them, and then at Bai Ye again. We fit right in, and I suddenly felt as if we were really a family just like the rest of them.

"Bai Ye." I leaned tighter into his arm, wishing that I wasn't holding a lantern in one hand and a drink in the other, so that I could loop my arm around him as well. "My parents had a sweet osmanthus tree in the yard when I was little, and we used to make this—" I held up the sweet wine in my hand, "—every year. I've almost forgotten what it tastes like after all this time."

He smiled. "Was it a tradition for Mid Autumn?"

I nodded. "We made pastries too, and sky lanterns. I loved sitting under the osmanthus tree after dinner, gazing at the moon and listening to stories of the old legends. Our village was small, and there weren't celebrations like what we're seeing here, but Mid Autumn was still one of my favorite times of the year because it was a time for families." I paused, unsure how to lead to the point I was trying to make. "I … I haven't enjoyed it like this ever since I lost my parents, and I thought I never will again … Thank you."

His steps slowed for a moment, as if he was caught off guard by what I said. Then his arm tightened around me. "I'm sorry I didn't spend enough time with you in the past years, Qing-er." There was deep regret in his voice. "But I hope it's not too late … to remind you of home."

A familiar fragrance filled my nostrils as we spoke. I looked up, not noticing until then that we had come upon a large lake at the end of the street. Rows of osmanthus trees lined the stone paths, heavy with golden blossoms, turning the night breeze into an intoxicating perfume. A few people dotted the lakeside, holding something glowing in their hands.

"Sky lanterns?" I gasped, not expecting to see those in this part of the country. "I haven't seen a sky lantern in years!" I turned back towards Bai Ye. "I didn't know—"

The bags from earlier were gone from his hand. Instead, he was holding two sky lanterns. "Have a wish to make?" he smiled.

My jaw dropped to the ground. "W-Where did you get these?"

"I came by a little earlier and bought them. I haven't made one of these before … next time I'll try make you one." He plucked the bunny I was holding out of my grip and handed me the sky lantern, along with a writing brush. "Don't let me see your wish," he winked.

I was still staring at him in bewilderment. He had planned all this for me? I didn't really believe in wishes, but to watch the lanterns carry them high up into the heavens was a blissful feeling I had always loved since I was a child, and … I hadn't told him that it was something only family members could do together in our village. My heart leaped in excitement. I placed the lantern firm against the ground and kneeled in front of it, all too eager to start. "You'll write yours too?" I asked. "At the same time?"

"At the same time," he promised and bent down next to me, another writing brush in hand.

The night had grown quiet enough that I could hear the soft rustle of our brushes, mixed in with the indistinct murmurs of people in the distance. I knew exactly what I wanted to wish for, and I wondered if his was the same. I didn't ask though—my parents had told me that if you said your wishes out loud, then it wouldn't come true.

When we were done, he lit a fire inside each of the lanterns, and we held them in our hands until we felt the hot air rising, urging the lanterns to take off. "Ready?" he asked, and we released them together.

A light breeze rustled past, swaying the lanterns gently, but the two bright flames didn't flicker. They ascended steadily, higher and higher into the dark sky, blending into the river of wishes flowing peacefully above us. Thousands of glowing sparkles dotted the heavens, shining bright against the full moon, carrying all our dreams as they drifted into the distance far, far away.

"Bai Ye …" My hand found his and locked our fingers together once more, though I was at a loss for words. I didn't know how to tell him how happy and grateful I was to have found a new family, in more ways than one.

But he didn't need me to say it to understand. He wrapped his arms around me, and our lips met.. Under the bright moon, under the stars, under the dazzling lanterns soaring high with dreams and hope.