TSMITB Chapter42

The path to ushering Old Qiu and the others out of the mountain was unexpectedly short.

This stretch of forest beneath their feet lay already very close to the edge of E’yun Mountain, not far from the spot where they had first parked their car. Just a hundred meters further was the relatively open flat ground where the traces of their former campsite still existed.

Sheng Qixiao stopped.

Old Qiu and the others, under Sheng Qixiao’s control, moved forward in a dazed trance like puppets on strings with their eyes vacant and their steps rigidly synchronized.

The scene unfolding before Shen Que was profoundly chilling. For the first time, Sheng Qixiao’s power instilled genuine fear in him, so much so that a thought flickered unbidden through his mind: perhaps one day in the future, he too would end up like this.

Shen Que feigned ignorance of Sheng Qixiao and kept his gaze fixed ahead, continuing to follow the few figures walking in front of him.

His wrist was suddenly seized by a familiar and irresistible force, pulling him back abruptly. The grip was strong, a little more force could have crushed his wrist bone.

The pain prompted his heart to give a sharp lurch. Shen Que looked up and met Sheng Qixiao’s pale eyes.

Not far ahead, a conspicuous, half-man-high stone was half-buried in the ground, almost swallowed by moss and weeds, but the faint traces of artificial carving and polishing could still be discerned.

It was a boundary marker.

“You cannot cross the boundary marker.” Sheng Qixiao’s voice was flat and calm, his expression also restored to its usual serenity. His grip on Shen Que loosened, as though the man who had been so vicious and domineering just moments ago had been someone else entirely.

Shen Que lowered his gaze. A thought suddenly crossed his mind—the words Sheng Qixiao had spoken earlier: he could not leave E’yun Mountain.

Perhaps the boundary marker was the dividing line.

He deliberately slowed and softened his breathing as an idea quietly began to take shape in his mind.

“I want to go take a look.” Shen Que spoke very slowly, but his actions were swift. Not waiting for Sheng Qixiao’s reply, he took off almost the instant the words fell.

He didn’t look at Sheng Qixiao’s reaction, or rather, he didn’t dare to.

One step. Then another. Sheng Qixiao made no move to stop him.

His strides grew larger and larger, while his speed accelerated. Driven by an urgency to escape hell, his fast walk turned into a sprint. The wind whistled past his ears as he ran. Soft, rotting leaves were kicked up beneath his feet and scattered in all directions, while dew gathered on the wildflowers and soaked the legs of his trousers. The outline of the boundary marker growing larger before his eyes was his only hope at this moment.

Sheng Qixiao hadn’t caught up yet, and even if he chased now, he might not be able to catch him either. Shen Que reassured himself this way, but the rising unease in his heart remained a constant shadow.

Sheng Qixiao stood rooted to the spot, completely motionless. A beam of morning light filtered through the fine gaps between the dense foliage, casting mottled light and shadow on his face.

He watched Shen Que’s frantic dash with an expressionless face, also feeling somewhat annoyed. Perhaps when he returned, he really needed to consult Ke Di on how to become a bit stupider, so he wouldn’t see through Shen Que’s intentions so easily.

A dense person like Ke Di, even without his wife by his side, seemed to live without much suffering.

Shen Que continuously accelerated. The boundary marker was right in front of him. He summoned all his strength, aiming to cross the invisible line that Sheng Qixiao could not pass.

But when he reached the boundary marker, he stopped, completely out of his control.

His legs felt as though they had been welded in place, impossibly heavy, as if fused with the earth itself, incapable of moving even an inch. The bell Sheng Qixiao had placed on his ankle shook violently.

The moth that had struggled so desperately to escape the spider’s web was, in the end, wrapped up completely.

Shen Que stood rooted to the spot, motionless as a statue. Every trace of movement had abruptly vanished. Only his chest continued to heave violently from the sprint, while cold sweat had already drenched his back.

“Why?”

The tender new shoots of grass were trampled back into the soil. Sheng Qixiao advanced at an unhurried pace, each measured step seeming to land squarely on Shen Que’s taut, fraying nerves.

The coolness of the morning was pushed to the back of Shen Que’s neck with a breath, “Why are you still trying to run?”

Shen Que gritted his teeth, feeling only irony. Freedom was but a step away from him. Thousands of words were stuck in his throat, yet ultimately, not a single one could be uttered.

A massive, suffocating sense of powerlessness swept over him. Every step he took, every reaction he had, was within Sheng Qixiao’s control.

Under Sheng Qixiao’s manipulation, Lao Qiu and the others had walked out of the forest and collapsed by the car.

The sun climbed fully above the horizon, gilding the edge of the forest in a wash of golden light.

The moment their consciousness returned, Old Qiu and the others suddenly sat up, looking around in alarm.

The mahogany box was beside their hands, but Shen Que was missing.

“Shen Que!”

“Shen Que!!”

“Where did he go!!! Shen Que!”

One anxious cry after another shattered the morning silence, echoing for a long time through the forest.

But they never received a response.

Shen Que had not come out with them.

Old Qiu’s face turned ashen, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as he tightly gripped the mahogany box. Only then did he fully grasp the meaning behind Ke Di’s words, he had underestimated Sheng Qixiao. Sheng Qixiao had anticipated their plan from the beginning, did not stop them, and even handed them the opportunity, only to deliver a crushing blow when they were closest to success and most relaxed in their vigilance.

The morning breeze swept through, setting the leaves overhead rustling softly.

The memories of their lost rationality in the forest gradually resurfaced in their minds, and with them came Shen Que’s exchange with Sheng Qixiao; how he had offered himself as the price, merely to save their lives and secure a chance to rescue Shen Yi.

The tight string in Old Qiu’s heart finally snapped. The mahogany box in his hand became a burning hot potato. The weight, negligible for him, felt like it was about to break his spine, nearly suffocating him.

He had let Shen Que down.

Ah Chao spoke with difficulty, his eyes bloodshot, “He did it for us…”

“To hell with it.” Gang Zi kicked the car tire. The branches and leaves previously used to camouflage the car roof had already withered. With Gang Zi’s kick, the car body shook, and these dead branches and fallen leaves dropped to the ground.

Gang Zi spat, his loud cursing echoing throughout the forest, “That bastard Sheng Qixiao is such a son of a bitch!”

“The leader was one of the people fighting with us in the side hall that day! That kid has probably been setting a trap from the start… Could that thing also be fake?”

Old Qiu shook his head, “I’ve checked it. There’s no problem.”

A fleeting shadow seemed to pass through the trees. The group looked up but saw nothing.

Gang Zi slapped the car hood, “I don’t believe this!” No sooner had he finished speaking than he started to charge into the forest, unwilling to give up.

Old Qiu, who hadn’t spoken for a while, called out to stop him, “He used everything he had to get us out. Don’t let him down…”

“Are you that calm?!” Gang Zi was still not reconciled, turning his gaze to Ah Chao, “What do you say? Are we just going to accept this with a clear conscience?! Huh? Have we really become cowards!”

“Brother Gang…” Ah Chao stammered, his eyes darting back and forth between Old Qiu and Gang Zi. He also wanted to save Shen Que, but he had more sense than Gang Zi. Not to mention whether they could go back the way they came and find the stockaded village or not, even if they did, it would only be throwing themselves into a trap, adding a few more sacrifices.

The smell of mud and rotting grass roots still filled his mouth. The near-suffocating madness he experienced when he lost his mind left an indelible scar of fear in his heart.

But he simply couldn’t bring himself to do just dust off his hands and leave, disregarding Shen Que’s fate.

Old Qiu rose to his feet and calmly tucked the mahogany box into his bag. His hand trembled, and it took him several tries before he finally managed to zip it shut.

“Don’t forget the purpose of our journey.” Old Qiu’s voice was low and hoarse, like the embers after a fire had died, still retaining a trace of warmth and emotion, but ultimately destined to go out, “From the moment we stepped into this mountain, hadn’t we already been prepared for sacrifice? It could have been you, it could have been me; so if it’s him, there’s nothing we cannot accept.”

“And besides…” Old Qiu took a deep breath. His slightly trembling tone gradually became steady, “Sheng Qixiao likes him. He… probably won’t hurt him.”

The next second, the dull sound of a fist hitting flesh exploded in his ear.

“You’re spewing bullshit. Has your conscience been eaten by dogs?! Huh?!”

Gang Zi, who was still swinging his fist, was desperately restrained by Ah Chao.

“Gang Zi! Don’t be impulsive!”

Old Qiu massaged his cheek. The spot where Gang Zi hit him stung fiercely. He didn’t refute. He only wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, “Let’s go. Saving the sick is what matters.”

After a brief confrontation thick with tension, the hum of the engine startled the birds in the forest. Soon, the car’s exhaust had fully dispersed, and silence settled back over the entire area. Only the withered yellow branches and fallen leaves on the ground remained as proof that someone had been there.

Shen Que struggled free from Sheng Qixiao’s hand covering his mouth while gazing at the empty, winding road leading into the distance for a long time.

“Back then, during the Moon Glazing Festival, in the side hall of the temple, you were the one who had people lead Gang Zi and the others there, right? The fire was also arranged by you, wasn’t it?”

Shen Que stared intently into Sheng Qixiao’s eyes, his tone flat and calm.

“You actually knew our purpose all along, so you dug a pit and waited for us to jump into it willingly.”

Sheng Qixiao stood straight, quietly listening to Shen Que’s analysis.

Everything Shen Que said was true. He had never intended to hide it, and he had even vaguely looked forward to Shen Que discovering it and confronting him. Yet, now that the moment was here, there was an inexplicable sourness in his heart.

He felt like he had lost something, but he couldn’t precisely define what it was.

“In that river, you saved me. I thought that was the first time we met. But it wasn’t, was it?”

Sheng Qixiao’s eyebrow twitched, and a hidden anticipation arose in his heart.

But then Shen Que pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his bag and tossed them outside the boundary marker as if discarding trash.

“You followed us the whole way.” The mask completely shed, Shen Que’s expression was sharp, his eyes full of scrutiny, and every word was unvarnished mockery, “Perhaps I should thank you. If it weren’t for you, I might have become that giant python’s dinner on the first night. Without you, we couldn’t have penetrated into E’yun Mountain so easily, if…”

“Shen Que.” The long-silent Sheng Qixiao finally spoke, “Pick it up.”

His gaze fell upon the sunglasses not far away, “You cannot, casually throw away my… belongings.”

Shen Que didn’t catch his slightly odd phrasing. Although his Mandarin was becoming increasingly fluent, there were still occasional differences.

“That’s my property. I can throw it away if I want to.”

“I picked it up, so it belongs to me now.” Sheng Qixiao frowned, but he could only watch from afar as an insurmountable sorrow etched across his features.

Shen Que sneered, “But neither of us can cross over right now. It doesn’t matter whose it is; no one can retrieve it anymore.”

At this point, Shen Que deliberately paused, staring fixedly at Sheng Qixiao’s wounded expression. He actively reached up to smooth out the furrow in his brow, adopting an even more cutting tone, “Why are you acting again? Who are you performing for? Who is left to be fooled by you?”

Sheng Qixiao stiffened entirely. The sorrowful, aggrieved expression on his face vanished almost at once, and his features grew sharp and cold. He clamped down on Shen Que’s wrist and pulled him close, “You’re right. I just thought of it as a memento, but now it seems it’s not that important anymore. I have you. Everything about you belongs to me now.”

“Very good. This look suits you better.” Shen Que held his head high while looking down at Sheng Qixiao with the corner of his mouth curving, “Your acting isn’t that great either. It’s just that I was too foolish to have believed you before.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sheng Qixiao gently shook his head, leaning in to kiss Shen Que’s lips, “Whether you believe me or not, it makes no difference.”

“You drank my blood. This life, you are bound to me alone, to live and die together. Are you happy?”

Shen Que’s heart jolted violently, almost coming to a standstill. A thick, metallic scent of blood seemed to surge up his throat. In a sudden act of defiance, he opened his mouth and bit down on Sheng Qixiao’s lip, mercilessly tearing at the newly scabbed wound and forcing it open once more. “Happy. Ecstatically happy. Then let’s choose a terrible day and die together.”