Be Gentle, Immortal Master

"Qing-er, you are still staring at me."

When Bai Ye's call finally snapped my mind back into functioning, I didn't know how much time had passed. The young woman was long gone. "Was my response satisfactory?" he asked.

My heart fluttered at the look in his eyes. His gaze was soft and endearing, utterly unlike the aloofness he wore a moment ago. His smile was bright and loving, and I had to admit that the young woman picked the perfect words to describe it—a smile that melts my heart like the warmest fire in the winter.

"Yes." I couldn't help touching my fingers to the corner of his lips. "I wish … that what you told her was true."

He tilted his head and planted a light kiss in my palm. "It is true in my mind. What difference do a few rituals and seals make?"

Another group of girls passed and giggled at the intimate gesture between us. I blushed, and my hand shrank back instinctively, but he leaned in and caught my wrist, dropping another kiss on my lips.

"Let them watch. I'm not your master today, Qing-er. There's nothing to hide."

He laced his fingers through mine, and we continued towards the center of town, hand in hand. I darted a furtive glance at him, feeling the flutters in me growing and beating hard. We had done far more intimate things together, but this—to hear him declare us a couple bound by love, to kiss him and walk by his side unhidden and undisguised—was something that I never thought I could have the luxury of, and it drove all my yearnings home.

Could things stay like this forever?

The crowds thickened along our way, and we passed more men and women dressed in their finest festive clothing. There were couples strolling leisurely just like us, softly chatting between themselves and whispering into each other's ears once in a while. There were groups of maidens that gasped and squealed and made cow eyes at the sight of Bai Ye, though he paid them no more heed. There were little children that gathered around storytellers, listening intently to the legend of the Weaver and the Cowherd.

"Their love was forbidden." I heard a storyteller say. "Because the Weaver was the seventh sister of the heavenly siblings, and the Cowherd was only a mortal farmer. The Emperor of the Heavens sent them to live on the opposite banks of the sky river, so that they could never see each other ever again. But their love was so profound that even fate could not stop them. Every year on the eve of this day, a flock of magpies would gather over the sky river and build a bridge out of their bodies, letting the Weaver and the Cowherd cross the waters and be together once more."

Old and familiar as the legend was, the bittersweet love story still made my heart clench. I gripped Bai Ye's hand tighter, praying silently that we would never be separated like they were.

He looked at me and smiled, clutching my hand tighter as well. The sun shone bright above him, dazzling like an aureole.

"Mister and Mistress!" A voice startled me from ahead of us, breaking our gaze. We were approaching a hanging bridge over the river, with a big crowd gathering at its end. A woman at the front of the crowd was greeting us, beaming radiantly. "Did you bring your flowers for the Weaver today?" she asked.

At her reminder, I noticed that the bridge was covered in all types of flowers. Lotus, hibiscus, gardenia … tied densely on the hanging ropes along the full length of the bridge, their colorful petals rustling lightly in the breeze.

"Is this your first Seventh Sister Day in town?" The woman was too shrewd to miss my amazement. "You are witnessing one of our oldest traditions here! We tie the flowers to build a blooming bridge for the Weaver and the Cowherd to cross. In return for our offerings, they will bless every couple with eternal love and a happy marriage!"

I looked at the bridge again. I didn't believe in heavenly deities all that much, but the promise behind the tradition tickled the longings in me. As wishful and futile as it might be, I wanted to be blessed with a future by Bai Ye's side, and—

"She likes peonies."

I turned around. Bai Ye was already picking through the woman's eager offering of an assortment of bouquets. "I assume you won't refuse to tie one with me, Qing-er," he smiled.

I stared at him. "How do you know I like peonies?"

"Just consider yourself lucky, my girl," the woman said and handed Bai Ye the biggest bouquet of late-summer peonies. "Few men have a clue what their wives like." She winked.

I couldn't help the flutters returning inside me once more. Bai Ye paid for the flowers and clasped his hand around mine again, leading me onto the bridge. The water gleamed below us, sparkling under the sun like a myriad of crystals, and the current murmured in a soothing lullaby, accompanying the gentle rocking of the hanging deck like a cradle beneath our feet.

A cool breeze whispered past, filling my nostrils with sweet fragrance as we walked down the aisle of a thousand blossoms. We stopped at the center of the bridge and tied the bouquet together onto the highest rope. "Bai Ye," I squeezed his hand lightly, "do you think the Weaver's blessings will come true?"

He turned me towards him and gathered me in his arms. Something glinted in his eyes. "It is already true, Qing-er."

His lips brushed over mine, soft and gentle like the rustling of the petals. I cupped his cheeks and held him close. A few whistles and chuckles sounded from behind me, and I may have blushed, but I didn't care. I savored him, along with the intoxicating aroma of the flowers and the beautiful feeling of sharing our love under the sunlight, in front of the crowds.

Maybe the Weaver had indeed blessed us, even if it was only for a day.