Maybe My Soulmate! (GL)

It hid under the earth, snapped up roots from below, and used the crops as cover so that anyone trying to cut it would risk damaging the entire field. Mo Yuxin paced around the perimeter first, marking the strongest growth points, while Su Yubing floated just above the rows with one hand spread open and a layer of cold light sinking gently through the leaves. It was more like surgery than battle at first. They separated the harmless vines from the corrupted ones, traced the flow back to the broken formation, and then broke the whole wild knot open in a single coordinated strike. When the spirit finally burst out, it was shaped like a huge twisting serpent made of leaves and flowers, with bright green eyes and a mouth full of root teeth. It did not scream in malice. It screamed like a thing waking up in pain.

Mo Yuxin did not hesitate. She drew her sword in one smooth motion and cut the air in a wide arc that split the vine body without shredding the field beneath. Su Yubing followed with a ring of pale frost that slowed the scattered roots long enough for Mo Yuxin to pin the formation stone in place. The whole thing took less than an hour once they understood what they were dealing with. When it was over, the field looked damaged but alive, and the village elders were so relieved they kept bowing too many times in a row. One little girl with dirt on her knees ran up to Su Yubing and handed her a flower woven from grass. Su Yubing accepted it with a smile so warm it made the child blush and run away. Mo Yuxin then had to pretend not to be jealous when the same child also wanted to sit in Su Yubing’s lap during lunch. That night, Su Yubing tucked the grass flower into the top of Mo Yuxin’s hair, and Mo Yuxin walked around with it there for nearly two whole hours before finally giving in and laughing at herself.

A little farther west, they ran into a traveling artist troupe made up of painters, singers, and one very dramatic storyteller who claimed he had once seen a phoenix descend into the sea. They were camped by a cedar grove near a clear stream, all of them looking tired and half starved after a bad run of luck on the road. Their wagon wheel had broken, one of their crates of paint had cracked open, and a few of them had been robbed by spirits in the night. The troupe leader, a woman named Qiao Ling, was trying very hard to keep the younger members calm, but she looked close to giving up. Mo Yuxin and Su Yubing had been passing by with no real plan other than maybe buying fruit from their roadside stall, but once they saw the trouble, they stopped without even discussing it.

Qiao Ling’s troupe turned out to be full of good-hearted people. The painters painted scenery on everything they could find, including a broken bucket and one of the mule’s saddles. The singer had a voice so clear it could carry across a valley. The storyteller was ridiculous but funny, and the younger apprentices looked at Su Yubing and Mo Yuxin with a mix of awe and curiosity that made the whole evening feel lighter. Mo Yuxin fixed the wagon wheel with a quick burst of spiritual force and then reforged the cracked axle with a heat technique. Su Yubing located the stolen paint hidden in a hole up the hill, where a fox spirit had dragged it off because the bright mineral colors had caught its attention. Instead of killing the fox, Su Yubing simply fed it a bit of spirit fruit, and the little creature calmed down so fast the troupe members all laughed. In gratitude, Qiao Ling offered to paint them a portrait and insisted on doing it right away before the light changed. The resulting painting showed the two women standing side by side in front of the cedar grove, Mo Yuxin with one hand resting lightly on Su Yubing’s waist and Su Yubing leaning against her shoulder with a soft smile. The portrait was so accurate and affectionate that even Mo Yuxin, who usually did not care much about that sort of thing, ended up keeping it.

That same evening, the troupe invited everyone to share dinner by the fire. Su Yubing sat between two young apprentices and taught them how to braid spirit-thread ribbons into their hair, while Mo Yuxin answered the storyteller’s exaggerated questions about how many enemies she had fought in her life. ”A lot,” she said.

”That is not enough detail,” the storyteller complained.

”Then ask a better question,” Mo Yuxin replied.

Su Yubing laughed so hard she nearly dropped her bowl. Later, when the fire had died down and the others had gone to sleep, Qiao Ling quietly asked if the two of them were really married. Su Yubing glanced at Mo Yuxin, then nodded with complete confidence. Qiao Ling smiled and said she had thought so, because the way they looked at each other was not something ordinary companions could fake. Su Yubing did not deny that either. She only slipped her hand into Mo Yuxin’s under the blanket and leaned closer until their shoulders touched.

A few weeks after that, the road carried them through an old imperial ruin where a river once ran through the heart of a now-collapsed city. Broken pillars rose out of the grass like giant ribs, and wide stone stairs were cracked in half by time. The locals said the place was haunted by the spirit of an ancient general, and they were half right. What actually slept there was the remains of a sword array so old that even the stones had soaked up the memory of battle. Every evening, when the sun touched the remains of the western wall, the air in the ruin would hum with a low ringing sound. Many people avoided it. Of course Mo Yuxin and Su Yubing went straight in.

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TO BE CONTINUED.