When mealtime came, the dishes were laid out on the table. Several people instinctively gathered around the wooden table and took their seats. Yet no one reached for their chopsticks, and the air felt oddly tense.
Shen Que quietly flipped away the soft cushion Sheng Qixiao had prepared for him while silently cursing his false kindness.
Old Qiu scanned the people at the table with his eyes: “Are we eating directly today?”
“It feels like something is missing.” Gang Zi scratched his head. He had been eyeing the dish of mushrooms fried with cured meat since earlier. Sheng Qixiao’s cooking was exactly to his taste, yet he merely held his chopsticks without making a move.
The moment he finished speaking, a figure drifted in from the doorway. “Everyone’s eating?” Ke Di stood silently outside the door.
“Why does this guy walk without a sound?” Ah Chao muttered softly.
Gang Zi raised his thick eyebrows and quickly waved to signal him to come in: “That’s better.” He hadn’t had many undisturbed dinners in E’yun Mountain; something always happened at dinnertime, it had become a pattern. “How about you sit down and eat with us?”
“Sure.” Ke Di replied without hesitation before stepping forward decisively.
Sheng Qixiao lightly raised his eyelids before casually tucking the stray strands of hair on the side of his face behind his ear. Ke Di’s movement paused for half a second, and the butt that was about to sit down lifted again. “I’d better not eat yet. I’m just here to pass on a message today.” He sped up his speech. “The mountain is foggy. Before the fog dissipates, do not leave the village or enter the mountains.”
“Why?” Shen Que was a little curious and maliciously snatched the piece of meat Gang Zi had been eyeing for a long time.
“The fog is poisonous.” Sheng Qixiao leisurely blocked Shen Que’s chopsticks, snatched the piece of meat drenched in a “lethal dose” of chili into his own bowl, and, without giving Shen Que a chance to respond, continued, “It will cause people to hallucinate. In severe cases, they will die inside the hallucination.”
The last few words were like ice dropped into boiling soup. The table instantly fell silent but a raging storm surged underneath.
The few people quickly exchanged glances, feeling a chill run down their spines. They had been living too peacefully for a while, having long forgotten the terrifying rumors about E’yun Mountain. Now, Sheng Qixiao’s words suddenly made them realize that underneath this seemingly peaceful facade lay fangs capable of biting through human sinew and bone.
Noticing that his task was complete, Ke Di turned and walked out regardless of the expressions of the people at the table. Before reaching the door, he looked back as if just noticing, staring at Sheng Qixiao’s pigtail, and flatly stated, “Nice new hairstyle.”
Shen Que glanced at his crooked and messy masterpiece, only feeling like he was being mocked. He let out a light snort and lowered his voice in threat: “Don’t say I braided it.”
Sheng Qixiao chuckled and said soothingly, “He’s offering his congratulations.”
Bullsh*t. Shen Que turned his head to ignore him.
The fog in the distance had descended the mountain at some point, gradually blurring the bamboo forests and stilt houses throughout the stockaded village into indistinct shadows.
.
For the next few days, Old Qiu and Gang Zi were drafted by Ke Di to join the patrol team. Each day they returned, they shrouded in damp, cold fog, and collapsed into sleep almost immediately from sheer exhaustion. Because of his injured legs, Ah Chao stayed behind in the small building with Shen Que, the only other young person remaining.
The days passed idly like a stagnant pool yet Shen Que’s heart remained weighed down by an indescribable sense of unease.
The awkwardness in his heart lingered. He held a grudge, unable to accept being inexplicably claimed by Sheng Qixiao… yet he couldn’t release his anger either so he constantly treated Sheng Qixiao with cold indifference.
Though he no longer grabbed his neck and cursed him like he had upon waking, he still refused to speak a single one of those teasing, ambiguous words he had once used to draw him closer.
Sheng Qixiao found this nearly cold-war stalemate unbearable and wanted to ease the tension, but the ever-spreading poisonous fog kept him tied up, and he gradually grew busier.
Apart from returning before mealtime to oversee the cooking; fearing Shen Que might burn down the kitchen, he was scarcely seen at any other time. When he did return early, he was exhausted, and even his words carried a sense of weariness.
When Sheng Qixiao had free time before, he took nearly every chance to declare his fondness for Shen Que, which Shen Que found overly clingy and a significant obstacle to discussing important plans with his companions.
Now that they barely saw each other, Shen Que didn’t feel any more relaxed because of it; instead, he felt a little unaccustomed to it.
The swing downstairs became Shen Que’s constant refuge. Whenever it wasn’t windy or rainy, he could be found there flipping through the pages of a book, his figure standing out clearly against the silent fog.
Sheng Qixiao knew he was bored. Even though they barely met, he would promptly replenish the next batch of books when Shen Que was about to finish one. Occasionally, when urging Shen Que to go back inside to rest, they would exchange a few words. After several such back-and-forths, Shen Que had actually managed to recognize a few of the mountain’s characters.
“Looks like I still have some language talent.” Time is the best medicine for all wounds. At that moment, Shen Que appeared to have reverted to his pre-incident self with a hint of his distinctive flamboyance playing across his expression.
Sheng Qixiao took it in stride, even feeling a joyful sense of relief after his ordeal. He stood beside Shen Que shoulder to shoulder, close enough that a single stretch of the hand could intertwine their fingers; a distance he deliberately kept as the furthest he could tolerate from Shen Que. Tilting his head, he smiled as he looked at Shen Que. In the thin mist, that smile seemed slightly blurred, and even his words carried a trace of dampness. “Yes, you’re talented at everything you do.”
Shen Que’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat. He found himself increasingly easily drawn into the deep vortex hidden in Sheng Qixiao’s eyes. His expression stiffened as he lowered his gaze to avoid him, his thumb unconsciously pressing harder against the page of the book.
As if unaware of Shen Que’s panic, Sheng Qixiao naturally bent down slightly before taking the half-opened book from his hand. His fingertip grazed Shen Que’s palm, leaving a faint chill, and his voice came soft and airy: “Have you missed me, these past few days?”
Did he miss him? Shen Que didn’t dare to ask himself. The words that should have been easy to say to fool him stumbled in his throat for several rounds before he finally stammered out, “Of course.”
Sheng Qixiao broke into a smile at once, two faint dimples appearing on his cheeks, yet no warmth reached his eyes; instead, they seemed glazed with a layer of ice, devoid of any real joy.
After asking that question, he even deliberately avoided looking at Shen Que’s reaction, only lowering his eyes and rubbing the edge of the book page. He knew that the current Shen Que couldn’t give him the correct answer to this question—the answer he desired.
The night grew deeper, tangling with the vines winding around the swing, damp and heavy, like a worry left unspoken.
Thick fog rolled in from the forest, swallowing the entire village in a chaotic gray-white haze. Visibility dropped lower and lower, forcing the patrol team to temporarily suspend their “traitor-clearing” operation. The small courtyards of every household were locked, and all outdoor activities were suspended.
The valley fell into an unprecedented silence. Even the wind slowed its steps, afraid of disturbing this eerie stillness.
Shen Que stood on the small building’s balcony with his elbows resting against the cold wooden railing. Mist drifted before his eyes, and at the far edge of his vision, a figure moving through the dense fog slowly came into view.
Condensed water droplets hung in Sheng Qixiao’s hair. He reached out and pushed open the courtyard gate with a creak, startling the flowers and plants in the courtyard to tremble. Sensing the weight of a certain person’s gaze, Sheng Qixiao’s lips curved slightly, and he looked up to meet his eyes.
Seeing him look over, Shen Que did not guiltily look away. He just counted silently in his heart, realizing that the two of them hadn’t spoken a decent word to each other for three or four days now.
“I’m back.” Time was extremely compressed. In just a few blinks, Sheng Qixiao was already beside Shen Que, his voice carrying a clear and cool tone. “You were waiting for me.” His tone was certain, with a rising inflection at the end: “I’m very happy.”
“I wait for you every day.” Shen Que glanced at the lingering dampness on his eyelashes, his tone devoid of any particular emotion. “Are you only happy today?”
“Does that mean, you think about me every day?”
Shen Que raised an eyebrow before changing the topic, “I’ve finished the books you gave me.”
“Then does that mean it’s my turn to be looked at now?” Sheng Qixiao asked in all seriousness, his eyes bright. “You’ve been reading for days, you should balance work and rest.”
“Who told you that’s how you apply the concept of balancing work and rest?”
Sheng Qixiao did not answer, he fixed his gaze on Shen Que’s plump red lips and completely missed what Shen Que had asked.
During these days of peak poisonous fog, the small building became lively again.
Old Qiu brought out his long-cherished small mahjong set, just enough to fill a table. As the extra one, Shen Que obediently stood behind Sheng Qixiao to offer pointers on strategy.
Ah Chao, who had been bedridden with his injury for over half a month, summoned all his pent-up energy to defeat Gang Zi and Old Qiu, leaving them wailing and shouting and condemning them to handle the dishwashing for the next six months. Sheng Qixiao, who was still in the novice protection period, also managed to win several rounds.
Shen Que was slumped in the armchair while looking up at the wooden rafters. Around him echoed laughter and playful quarrels. Candlelight cast a warm yellow glow across Sheng Qixiao’s face, lending him an air of greater reserve than usual.
For a moment, Shen Que was in a daze, thinking that if such happiness could last a little longer, maybe… it wouldn’t be so bad either.
The silence after the revelry was the hardest to bear.
“Are you unhappy?” Sheng Qixiao’s voice sounded close to his ear.
Shen Que looked up and met his gaze. “Why do you always ask me if I’m happy?”
“I like you, so of course I want you to be happy.” Sheng Qixiao spoke with genuine sincerity. His firm, righteous words were like a feather, lightly brushing against Shen Que’s heart.
“Actually, sometimes I really wonder whether feelings and love can truly exist between people.” The words slipped out, and Shen Que immediately regretted them. Why did he have to say that to him? He unconsciously rubbed his index finger joint with his thump; he was starting to crave a cigarette.
“Why do you doubt it?” Sheng Qixiao tilted his head, lowering his voice. “If there was no love, then how would you have come to my side?”
Shen Que didn’t grasp the deeper meaning in his words and only shook his head, unsure what kind of expression to adopt in response.
He could gradually feel his heart becoming unbalanced. He had to admit that regarding him and Sheng Qixiao, his reservations were far greater than they had been with anyone else he had been involved with.
The relationship, which was established as one of utility from the very beginning, now suddenly gave rise to a sense of hesitation and debt. Furthermore, this was not even under his conscious control. Sheng Qixiao had unknowingly eroded his will at such a rapid pace as if some unseen force was leading him into a trap custom-made for him.
Not good, very not good.
It seems the master was right; the people in E’yun Mountain are indeed extremely skilled at bewitching others.
