Chapter Forty-Seven: The Moon Hidden in the Cold Pool

If, at first, Han Tanyi’s heart had held only a trace of confusion at the earlier question, now in this moment, he was suddenly consumed by a palpable fear. The name “Cicada Pearl”—though he had never heard of it before—struck him as something far from ordinary. As long as it was not some mere luminous night-pearl, it was certainly no trivial matter. His gaze lingered on Butterfly Hua’s face, as though seeking a hint of denial in her expression; yet it was clear her reaction disappointed him. Butterfly Hua’s eyes remained fixed on the pearl, as if, in her own words, this was truly a treasure. And for a woman, how could she not delight in such a beautiful thing?

“Is this truly the Cicada Pearl?” Han Tanyi hesitated a moment before asking, the words seeming almost too heavy to utter, so that his voice was low and subdued. Of course, Butterfly Hua stood close enough to hear him perfectly. She lifted her head, and a flicker of doubt crossed her features as she looked at him. “Why, didn’t you know it was the Cicada Pearl?”

Of course I didn’t know! Isn’t this just a seven-colored night-pearl? Thoughts like these flashed through Han Tanyi’s mind, but he dared not voice them aloud. If she pressed further—asking where it came from, why he had gone to steal a night-pearl, and so on—he would have no answer at all. No matter what, he felt a sudden panic, his heart pounding ever quicker. He could not help but fidget, his eyes drifting, blinking rapidly—a sure sign he was about to lie. Unlike other young men who might not care, Han Tanyi could only hope his performance would appear convincing. “I—I really didn’t know,” he stammered. “It’s our first time visiting Yingyang, and Uncle Shen gave this as a welcoming gift. I thought it was just some ordinary pearl, nothing so precious. Had I known, I wouldn’t have dared accept it. If my master found out, he’d surely scold me!”

“The old man forbids disciples from coming to this back mountain valley, but here you are anyway. When did you ever become so fearful of your master? That’s hardly like you at all.” Whether she was going along with his words or simply teasing, Butterfly Hua spoke without the faintest restraint, her tone full of playful mockery. Han Tanyi, already uneasy from his deception, now felt even more embarrassed. A flush crept to his cheeks as he lowered his head, as if trying to hide from her gaze. Seeing his reaction, Butterfly Hua realized she had perhaps gone a bit too far, and she laughed softly, hoping to ease the awkwardness. “There, don’t be so childish. I was only joking. Since the Cicada Pearl was a gift from Shen Wansan, and since Qilian Mountain has ties to Bright Moon Manor, you may as well keep it. Otherwise, if the matter is ever brought up and you can’t produce it, how would you explain yourself? Shen Wansan truly lives up to his reputation as a towering figure of the martial world—so generous and magnanimous!”

Her words soothed Han Tanyi’s anxious heart. He realized his earlier behavior had been rather unsound. As Butterfly Hua handed the Cicada Pearl back to him, he found himself at a loss: at first, he had thought she knew nothing, and that gifting her the pearl would cause no harm. After all, she stayed secluded here in the Qilian Mountains, rarely interacting with the outside world; it should not have mattered. But now things were different—she recognized it at a glance and knew its origins. This woman was far from as simple as he had assumed. If his master ever learned of this, it would be disastrous; Master Tianji despised trickery and dishonesty above all else, and this transgression was no trivial matter, wholly unlike merely sneaking into the valley. Yet to take back a gift already given would be awkward. Han Tanyi was not a shy man, but to do such a thing in front of a woman he cared about—he could not bring himself to act. Thus, his hand hovered, torn between accepting and refusing, gripped by indecision.

“Take it,” Butterfly Hua said simply, pressing the pearl back into his hand. “I understand your intentions. Women of the mundane world may cherish such things, but I am an exception. What they see as treasures, I find vulgar and unrefined. To me, they cannot compare to the wind in these mountains, the clouds, the grass and trees.” Seeing his hesitation, her manner was direct, and she returned the pearl to him without a moment’s fuss. Han Tanyi felt its faint warmth in his palm, his face wearing a sheepish smile. Looking at her, he realized that his supposed understanding of this woman was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“If you truly wish to give me a gift, there is something I have long desired. I wonder if you could help?” Noting his awkwardness, Butterfly Hua continued, her voice gentle. For Han Tanyi, this was no bad news—his failed attempt at a gift had left him feeling guilty, and this offered a chance to make amends. He replied eagerly, “Whatever it is you want, just say it. Though my abilities are limited, I will do anything within my power, no matter how difficult!”

“Your promise alone is enough. Whether you can obtain it is not so important—let me say this plainly: if it proves too difficult, let it go. If you have to force it, I would rather not have it. Do you understand?” Butterfly Hua suddenly turned away, facing her back to him as if unable to speak directly. Yet her words were simple, and Han Tanyi saw nothing amiss. Still, he wondered to himself—if she asked for something, he would give his all to find it, but if she truly refused, what then? After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded and promised, “Don’t worry. If it proves impossible, I will do as you wish.”

“Very well. Since you agree, I will tell you. Of all the world’s treasures, what I desire most is a single piece of music—a zither score that I have dreamed of for years: the ‘Cold Pool Veiled Moon Melody’ that rests in your master’s hands!” At this, Butterfly Hua paused. With her back to Han Tanyi, he could not read her expression, but her bearing suggested that this was a matter of great import. Han Tanyi was thoroughly bewildered. He could imagine many things she might desire, but a zither score? It made sense—Butterfly Hua was the very picture of refinement, and such a melody suited her. Yet what puzzled him was that, having grown up under Daoist Tianji, he thought he knew his master well. The old man was a master of martial arts—one of the best in the land—but he was a rough and straightforward fellow. As for zither music—let alone a score—Han Tanyi doubted the man could play even a flute or drum properly.

“The ‘Cold Pool Veiled Moon Melody’? My master—how could he possibly—?” Han Tanyi’s confusion was plain on his face, and his tone was full of disbelief. As if she had expected just this reaction, Butterfly Hua walked a few steps forward, the two white wolves trailing at her heels in perfect unison, step for step, as though possessed of uncanny intelligence. When she reached the door, she stopped and spoke in a calm, low voice, “Perhaps you only know your master as you see him. But with so renowned a name as Daoist Tianji, and with the Qilian Sect’s fame known throughout the martial world, do you truly believe he would willingly hide himself away in these remote mountains, untouched by the feuds, wealth, and ambitions of the world?”

Her question left Han Tanyi momentarily stunned. In truth, though these questions were obvious, he had never thought to ask them. Now that she brought it up, doubt began to gnaw at him. Indeed, with the title of one of the Four Great Sects, and with his master’s peerless skills, it would not be unreasonable to see the Qilian Sect flourish as Bright Moon Manor had. Yet here it languished—could there truly be some hidden story? Perhaps not entirely unknown—for standing before him now was someone who might well know the answer.