CALID Chapter 108

Bonus: Drunk on a Spring Day

On the third Lantern Festival after He Simu became human, she got drunk for the first time.

When Duan Xu realised something was wrong with her, they were on their way to the lantern market together.

At dusk, the city of Daizhou Prefecture was hung with lanterns and decorations, and people streamed through the streets. Fine snow drifted down from the sky, while lights gradually flickered to life one by one, as though sparks of stars had fallen into the mortal world.

He Simu and Duan Xu walked side by side through the snow, their fingers intertwined. But as they walked, she suddenly let go of his hand and, without any warning, turned into a small alley by the roadside.

Duan Xu was puzzled and followed after her. “Simu, where are you going?”

He Simu did not answer. She simply kept walking on her own, turning left and right, winding through one alley after another, with no telling where she intended to go. It was not until Duan Xu caught hold of her hand and raised his voice, “Simu?” that she finally turned around.

She studied him for a moment, then asked, rather unclearly, “You… who are you?”

She was dressed in a red gown, her hair adorned with pearls and jade. A faint flush coloured her cheeks, and her eyes were hazy.

Duan Xu froze for a moment, then waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Don’t tell me… you’re drunk?”

It was not that Duan Xu was slow to notice; He Simu’s tolerance was simply too good.

More than three years had passed since she became human. During that time, she had searched far and wide for fine wines to taste, yet had never once been drunk. Even if the Wine Immortal himself descended to earth, he would have clicked his tongue in wonder at her alcohol tolerance.

This year, she had found a famous strong liquor of the Nine Provinces—Half-Cup Yellow Millet Dream. True to its name, after half a cup, one ought to be off dreaming.

But He Simu did not believe its reputation. At lunch, she drank nearly half a pot of it, her face unflushed, her hands steady, and even her sunflower-seed cracking remained perfectly neat. Had Duan Xu not stopped her, the entire pot would have ended up in her stomach.

Before leaving, He Simu had still been lamenting how deep her tolerance was, wondering when she would ever get to taste what drunkenness felt like. Who would have thought the wine would live up to its name? After they had walked for only the time it took to drink a cup of tea, He Simu became drunker with every step. In a way, she had finally got what she wished for.

It was just that she became drunk so silently that no one noticed at first.

He Simu asked again, “Who are you?”

Duan Xu had never seen her like this before and found it novel. Smiling brightly, he said, “I’m the person you like.”

Who would have thought that He Simu would study him for a moment, then shake her head and say something shocking.

“You’re not. You’re better-looking than him.”

The north wind carried the scent of plum blossoms, and silence fell between them for a moment.

Fine snow drifted past He Simu’s eyes. Her gaze was veiled with a sheen of moisture, and who knew which years of the past her thoughts had fallen back into.

After a long while, Duan Xu smiled and asked, “And who is he?”

He Simu did not reply.

After a moment, he added, “Which senior is it that my lady likes? He’s not even as good-looking as me—what exactly do you see in him?”

He Simu still said nothing, only staring at Duan Xu without blinking.

Duan Xu hesitated, as if wanting to speak but stopping himself.

In the end, he let out a soft laugh, turned his head away, and said, “Forget it. I don’t really want to know anyway.”

Grasping her wrist, he tried to lead her back onto the main road.

“We agreed to meet them at the lantern market. You’re drunk now and don’t even recognise me—maybe we should just—”

But suddenly he felt a strong pull. He Simu yanked him back so that they were almost toe to toe, standing extremely close. Just like when she had first become human, she looked him over from head to toe again, then reached out and pinched him all over—from his arm up to his face. Her eyes slowly widened, confusion and delight appearing together.

“How strange… what is this? What is this thing?”

Duan Xu raised his brows in surprise, letting her knead and prod him as she pleased. As she pinched his face, she suddenly turned her head and spoke toward a large broom leaning against the wall.

“Father, I don’t like the previous one anymore. I want this one.”

Duan Xu’s eyes widened.

“I want this one. One isn’t enough—you make me another. I want an identical one!”

Duan Xu froze for a moment, then said thoughtfully, “Make one? The person you like… could it be a dough figurine?”

He Simu turned to look at him and said, “Father, look—he can even talk.”

“…”

Duan Xu lowered his head, holding back a laugh.

“There aren’t any others. There’s only this one.”

“Only one?”

“Mm.”

Duan Xu lifted her hand and placed it against his face, saying shamelessly, “There’s only one dough figurine this good-looking. If you like it, take it.”

Drunk He Simu stared at him for a long while, then suddenly raised her arm and pulled open her sleeve.

“Then I have to tuck it away.”

She pressed down on the back of Duan Xu’s neck and tried to stuff him into her sleeve. Caught off guard, Duan Xu was actually shoved into it.

His head wriggled inside the sleeve, stirring up waves of red fabric, until Duan Xu finally reached out and grabbed He Simu’s wrist. His voice came from within the wide sleeve.

“Can’t you just hold it in your hand?”

He Simu said as if it were obvious, “What if it falls?”

The picturesque dough figurine struggled free from her sleeve and caught her hand.

“Then hold on properly.”

“What if someone snatches it away?”

“Who could snatch anything from you?”

He Simu thought about it, tightened her grip on his hand, and said, “Right. Who could snatch it from me?”

The dough figurine burst out laughing and said, “Simu, so this is what you were like as a child?”

He Simu looked at her new dough figurine and wondered: when had her father’s craftsmanship become this refined? What were these mottled shades of light and shadow on his body? What was this pulsing strength at his wrist?

This one-of-a-kind dough figurine smiled so brightly and vividly, so strangely full of life, strange enough to be enchanting—just like the mortal world she had heard about.

He Simu had a dream.

In the dream, she was still very young, following her aunt to see her wine cellar. Her aunt spoke of every jar as if it were a treasure, exhausting every word of praise, and each time she mentioned a wine, she poured He Simu a cup. By the time they had walked from one end of the cellar to the other, He Simu had drunk more than ten cups of fine wine, yet no matter how carefully she tasted them, she could not detect even the slightest flavour.

She grew more and more frustrated and refused to drink anymore. “I can’t taste anything at all. What a waste of all these good wines.”

Her aunt turned back, the hair ornaments at her temples clinking.

“What waste? My precious wine is being drunk by a precious person. How is that a waste?”

It was deep winter. The wine cellar was dim, and snow was falling heavily outside the air window. Her aunt held a wine jar in her hand, her expression blurred in the shadows, but her voice was bright and clear.

“It doesn’t matter if you can’t taste it. Even for living people, after ten or twenty years, the flavour of these few mouthfuls of wine would grow hazy. But you’ll remember that there was once a morning when your drunkard aunt spoke to you with great enthusiasm about her good wine, and gave you some to drink.”

After saying this, her aunt burst into laughter and added, “If you really were a living person, you’d have inherited your mother’s shallow tolerance of half a cup. You’d have been drunk unconscious by now, and I’d have to carry you out on my back! If your mother saw that, she’d draw her sword and chase me all around the courtyard!”

Her aunt’s laughter echoed through the wine cellar, making He Simu laugh loudly too. And so her aunt carried her in one arm and held the wine jar in the other, stepping out into the New Year’s heavy snow.

In the snow, her parents were waiting, reaching their arms out to her.

He Simu opened her eyes.

The snow was still falling. Before her was a broad back, and the parts of them touching were warm enough to almost burn. That person had always been sharp; almost the moment she opened her eyes, he said, “Awake? My lady has woken at just the right time. We’re here.”

All around them, voices surged and lanterns blazed. The person carrying her laughed and asked, “What did you dream about?”

He Simu’s eyes gradually cleared. The corners of her mouth curved up.

“I had a beautiful dream.”

Her aunt had guessed wrong. She had not inherited her mother’s poor tolerance for alcohol. The He Simu of now could accompany her aunt from one end of the wine cellar to the other, drinking and chatting merrily all the while.

She would not need to trouble her aunt to carry her, drunk, out of the cellar.

Of course, her parents would no longer reach out their arms to her in the heavy snow either.

The beautiful dream had already ended.

He Simu wrapped her arms around Duan Xu’s neck and lifted her eyes. At the end of the bustling road, she saw Jiang Ai, Chen Ying, and Feng Yi standing there.

Jiang Ai was dressed in all her finery, practically resplendent in gold and splendour. Feng Yi leaned on his cane with one hand and held a flower lantern in the other. Chen Ying stood with his hands behind his back, looking at her, the Ghost King Lantern at his waist glowing brightly.

They stood at the end of the lantern market. The fragrance of plum blossoms filled the air; lanterns bloomed like fiery trees and silver flowers, their light illuminating heaven and earth. They had come to keep her Lantern Festival appointment.

Yet now, someone was carrying her down the long, brilliantly lit road, and there were still people waiting for her at its end.

She had come riding an old dream, and here, a new dream was waiting to welcome her.

In this dazzling, colourful, enchanting mortal world.

**Nomad: Our favourite author has graced us with a bonus chapter — four years later!

I managed to stumble across it and knew I definitely had to translate and share it with you all. I hope those of you who still come back to reread this novel get to see it.

And if you know anyone who read the novel before, including the original extra chapters, but may not know about this new bonus chapter, please let them know so they can come back and read it too.

This chapter is so wholesome.**