TSMITB Chapter19

They moved along the meandering path together, weaving through rows of stilted houses and thick bamboo groves, at times nearly brushing shoulders with clansmen passing by. The caution and alertness in their eyes had yet to fully dissipate, though a trace of warmth and friendliness had crept in.

 

The air was filled with the smell of medicinal herbs being warmed by the sun and evaporating excess moisture, it wasn’t unpleasant but rather added a sense of authenticity.

 

“Shouldn’t you be helping? Is it alright for you to just stroll around with me like this?”

 

The side of the mountain entirely stacked with herb fields was growing increasingly distant from them. The figures of Old Qiu and Gang Zi were almost completely blended in with the people.

 

“They don’t really need my help anyway.”

 

Sheng Qixiao’s Mandarin was becoming more fluent, but his tone always remained calm, almost cold. The emotion he had mastered best so far must be feigning pity, Shen Que secretly mused, wondering who he had learned it from.

 

Shen Que wasn’t very interested in the small buildings, which had little difference in appearance. Sheng Qixiao also wasn’t a qualified guide, he was silent and reserved, serving only as a companion.

 

Not long after, a fork road appeared right ahead: one branch rising upward as a flight of steps, the other sloping downward into a stone-paved way. Hidden by the trees, the outline of roof ridges and eaves could vaguely be discerned.

 

Shen Que paused, his body slightly leaning toward that side, implicitly suggesting to Sheng Qixiao that he wanted to go that way. Sheng Qixiao; however, seemed oblivious and continued forward without stopping.

 

The soles of his shoes made a dull sound as they stepped on the wooden stairs. Sheng Qixiao looked back: “Why did you stop? Are you tired? Do you want to go back and rest?”

 

Shen Que pointed to the stone path. “What’s down there? Can we go take a look?”

 

Sheng Qixiao’s gaze paused at his fingertip, and a barely noticeable thread of aversion was added to his light brown pupils.

 

“If it’s inconvenient, never mind.” Shen Que smiled, sounding understanding.

 

“You can,” Sheng Qixiao retracted the leg he had placed on the stairs. “You can look, but you can’t get too close.”

 

The stone path curved multiple times, leading all the way down. Several temple-like structures rose amid the mountains, their walls and roof tiles a deep black tinged with faint green. Cream-white carved window lattices were set into the surfaces, yet rather than softening the architecture’s weight, they lent it an added sense of eerie unease. Through the tiny carvings, Shen Que could barely sense the faint, flickering candlelight inside the buildings.

 

The buildings were surrounded on all four sides by dense, airtight mountain forests, with not a single ray of sunlight squeezing in at all. The surrounding temperature, as a result, was considerably lower than in other places. A fairly spacious open area lay enclosed among the buildings, its surface smoothly paved with flagstones that together formed the pattern of a circular totem.

 

Shen Que’s eyelid twitched without warning. This place felt even more spine-chilling than the feeling of being lost and disoriented upon first entering the mountain.

 

“Shen Que, what are you thinking about?”

 

Sheng Qixiao’s hand reached over Shen Que’s shoulder from behind. His slightly long bangs fell down, obscuring part of his eyes and eyebrows. His gaze was tightly fixed on the buildings not far away, yet his nose was almost touching Shen Que’s cheek.

 

The warm breath and sound of his respiration stimulated Shen Que’s sensory nerves. He abruptly shivered, turned around, and stepped back to create distance between himself and Sheng Qixiao.

 

Perhaps because of the dim surroundings, Sheng Qixiao’s eyes seemed veiled in a layer of dark mist; a slight ridge formed between his brows, and his lips were set in a flat, uncurved line. He slowly retracted the palm that had lost its support, letting it hang by his side.

 

Shen Que immediately realized that Sheng Qixiao was unhappy with his action of avoidance. He pretended to casually take two steps forward, pulled Sheng Qixiao’s wrist, and led him to turn and walk back. He naturally let go when they reached a section of the path that was too narrow for only one person to pass.

 

“What is this place? Why does it feel a bit cold? Are you cold?”

 

Sheng Qixiao clutched the spot Shen Que had held, feeling the lingering warmth with his fingertip.

 

“I’m not cold. This is where I was born.”

 

A rustling sound suddenly came from the grass in the woods, drowning out his already hesitant and low answer. Shen Que looked back; behind him was the brightly lit exit to the fork in the road. The swaying branches messed up his well-kept hairstyle, adding a touch of softness to his whole person. “What did you say?”

 

“The Temple. I said this is the Temple.” Sheng Qixiao suppressed the sudden surge in his heart. “You can’t come here casually. It lacks human presence, so it’s probably cold.”

 

“Remember to remind your companions not to come here either.”

 

This sentence was said with some intention, and even though Sheng Qixiao lowered his voice trying to minimize the awkwardness, a feeling of regret arose the moment the words left his mouth.

 

He was too hasty. Knowing Shen Que’s personality, he would likely become suspicious again. He should have exercised more restraint.

 

But Sheng Qixiao was not the only one who was anxious.

 

Shen Que nodded, not noticing the abnormality in Sheng Qixiao’s words, and continued walking out without changing his expression. Yet a massive surge churned in his heart, and one thought stood out with absolute clarity: if Sheng Qixiao did not want him to come, then he had to come no matter what.

 

The two continued walking, each “harboring ill intentions” yet pretending everything was normal.

 

The upward wooden staircase was built against the mountain, looking like a ribbon of wood hanging on the cliff from a distance. As the height increased, the entire village presented itself to Shen Que from a different angle and perspective.

 

The temple they had just visited on the descent was located at the lowest point of the entire village, surrounded and enveloped by grass and trees that spread out like a whirlpool. No wonder he hadn’t noticed it at all when looking down from the other side of the mountain peak earlier.

 

The two walked and paused, and before long had made their way halfway up the mountain.

 

A sound similar to a shout came from below. Sheng Qixiao leaned over the bamboo railing and glanced down. “Someone is calling me. You…”

 

“Then I’ll just walk around by myself for a bit.”

 

After Sheng Qixiao’s back disappeared, Shen Que stepped onto the stairs and continued upward alone. The moment Sheng Qixiao felt comfortable letting him go up by himself, Shen Que lost his curiosity about the mountain peak.

 

Shen Que leaned against the stone wall out of boredom while watching the gradually setting sun. The phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated. Shen Que’s heart skipped a beat.

 

After a few seconds of silence, Shen Que vigilantly looked around. All he could see were bare cliff faces, without even a slightly dense patch of grass. It was quiet all around, making the continuous vibrations of his phone particularly noticeable.

 

Shen Que pulled out his phone. The screen had automatically unlocked when he brought it up to his eyes. A stack of unread messages collapsed at the bottom edge of the screen. Shen Que nervously let out a breath and slid his thumb up to enter the interface. The top left corner prominently displayed that he had received three bars of signal.

 

He didn’t have time to think too much. Shen Que roughly scanned the messages, ignored the superfluous worries about his safety, and quickly summarized his sightings and experiences of the past few days. He dared not send a voice message and typed rapidly on the keyboard. In the end, he also sent the murals he had photographed in the cave.

 

Suddenly remembering something, he turned the phone horizontally and took pictures of the full view of the village and the aerial view of the temple.

 

It was as if someone was specifically monitoring his messages on the other side. The second the sending icon disappeared, he received a reply.

 

“I’ve shown the pictures to the Master. You didn’t go to the wrong place. The person who can save President Shen is here.”

 

“But you must be careful of the indigenous people here. We have collected a large amount of information recently. The locals here are very exclusive of outsiders, but they are extremely skilled at disguising themselves. You must not fall for their traps.”

 

“……”

 

“…If possible, leave as soon as possible. Do not get entangled with anyone, leave before…”

 

The last message was a voice note from the master. The old voice was silent in the open space for a few seconds before giving a seemingly determined reminder. However, the last phrase was too indistinct, as if something had suddenly choked his throat, leaving only a muffled wheezing sound.

 

Shen Que stood silently for a while, the phrase “skilled at disguising themselves” looping back and forth in his mind. It was a long while before he realized he hadn’t clearly heard the last sentence. He wanted to hear it once more and lifted the phone’s earpiece to his ear, but this time there was nothing but the crackle of static electricity.

 

A breeze floated by, leading out a faint, familiar yet strange scent.

 

Shen Que turned his head. Sheng Qixiao was standing not far away while looking at him. He was against the light, and the emotion on his face was naturally hidden. Shen Que couldn’t make out the details of his facial contours, only feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down, making him almost unable to breathe.

 

Sheng Qixiao’s hands hung at his sides, his palms loosely enclosing the silver ornaments at his waist. His clothes fluttered with the wind, and the residual sunset glow behind him plated him with a golden edge, even his slightly messy hair was shining.

 

Shen Que reflexively closed the interface, his finger sliding to the camera as he casually took two photos of the sky. “The sunset in the mountains is really beautiful, more beautiful than any I’ve seen before.”

 

Sheng Qixiao smiled, his gaze subtly sweeping across the blurred, wasted photos on the screen. He nodded nonchalantly without trying to probe the truth of his words: “If you like it, that’s good.”

 

Shen Que continued to half-lean against the stone wall while enjoying the evening breeze and watching the sun set. Cooking smoke gradually rose from the village below the mountain, and the scent of food drifted through the air. Everything was so calm and peaceful.

 

Yet, beneath the calm and serene surface of this place, countless hidden secrets lay concealed. Even the young man sitting beside him remained unreadable; he could not discern what true emotions lay beneath that innocent exterior.

 

And could the ‘like’ he spoke of truly withstand scrutiny?

 

“Sheng Qixiao, can you cast Gu?”

 

Shen Que tilted his head up, closing his eyes to quietly feel the last ray of golden light under the sky. He didn’t get an answer until that beam of light hid in the clouds.

 

When he looked back, he found that Sheng Qixiao, who had been standing next to him, had moved to the path going down the mountain at some unknown point.

 

Perhaps he hadn’t heard. Shen Que got up and followed, still intent on asking again, thinking that Sheng Qixiao might not be the way the rumors described and that Sheng Qixiao was different from others.

 

But Sheng Qixiao halted and turned, gazing up at Shen Que from just a few steps away on the staircase, his voice soft and gentle: “The sound from your phone just now… were you looking for something?”

 

Shen Que immediately rubbed his eyes. “A bug flew into my eye, quickly help me check.”

 

As the sky gradually darkened, the two returned to the small building wrapped in the moonlight.

 

During dinner, Shen Que had no appetite and put down his chopsticks after a few casual bites. Sheng Qixiao saw all of this and silently calculated whose house he should go to tomorrow to get some dishes Shen Que hadn’t tried.

 

The night was silent. Shen Que secretly slipped into the room across the hall and thoroughly recounted everything he had seen and heard that day.

 

The few people gathered together to go over the information Shen Que had received that day: “Information about this place from the outside is indeed scarce. We can only rely on ourselves to be extra careful and vigilant.”

 

“Your phone earpiece is broken, there’s no sound, and it can’t transcribe to text either. What a lousy phone.” Gang Zi fiddled with Shen Que’s phone, desperately wanting to hear the voice note at the bottom of the chat interface.

 

Afraid that he would stumble upon something else he shouldn’t see, Shen Que raised his hand and snatched it back. “I already listened to it. It said for us to leave as soon as possible and not get entangled with them.”

 

Old Qiu looked at Shen Que with a look of wanting to speak but holding back. The latter lifted an eyelid and his face instantly darkened. Shen Que knew what he wanted to say without even having to think about it—it was nothing more than lecturing him not to have any ambiguous involvement with a certain person, and he was already tired of it.

 

In a place they didn’t notice, a small blue snake was coiled on the windowsill outside the room. The edges of the snake’s scales glowed faintly in the night sky with its slender tail tapped rhythmically against the window ledge.

 

Sheng Qixiao sat upright in his room with his eyes closed, the sound of their conversation still echoing in his ears. His breathing was steady, chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm, yet his fingers gradually clenched, wrinkling the hem of his garment.

 

After spending so much time together, Shen Que was still re-establishing his guard against him just because of a sentence from an outsider. He couldn’t even compare to a stranger.

 

But he completely overlooked the fact that the ‘so much time’ in his eyes was actually only a few days…