TSMITB Chapter2

On the other side, with everything ready, Old Qiu was coordinating with Gang Zi and Ah Chao for a final inventory check before departure. He looked at the caller ID and sank into a brief silence.

With a mischievous grin, Gang Zi leaned forward and, in one swift motion, pressed the ‘answer’ button. Old Qiu’s eyes widened as he smacked Gang Zi on the back of his head. Before Gang Zi could utter a yelp, the voice from the other end of the line spoke first.

“Come pick me up at Bishui Bay. Shen Yi is my older brother, and I won’t just sit comfortably at home while you guys risk your lives adventuring.”

“Young Master Shen,” Ah Chao interjected at the opportune moment by raising a valid point. “How many times have you been completely comfortable moving on to the next conquest while I’ve been risking my life helping you clean up your little lover’s mess, even getting hit so hard I still have lumps on my head?”

“…A bonus will be transferred to your card shortly. I’ll be there in half an hour. If you dare sneak off without me, I’ll go by myself.”

---

The vehicle rumbled along the narrowing road for another two or three hours. To call it a road was already a stretch, dirt and gravel had long vanished, swallowed by creeping weeds and tangled roots. All around was an endless ocean of trees; the farther they went, the denser the forest became. Soon, even driving might prove more troublesome than walking.

Shen Que lit up his phone, the screen displayed 5:28 p.m. Only three bars of signal remained.

Old Qiu steered the car to a relatively flat patch of land before bringing it to a stop.

Ancient trees towered around them, their crowns so dense that only a palm-sized sliver of sky could be seen through the canopy, where a faint ribbon of light still managed to filter through.

“We won’t go any further today. Let’s get out to stretch your legs and grab a bite. We’ll enter the mountain proper tomorrow,” Old Qiu said before getting out of the car and stretching. “We can still pitch a tent and have a comfortable sleep tonight. We won’t have that luxury once we get into the woods.”

Gang Zi nudged Ah Chao, who had just woken up again, with his elbow. “Ah Chao never has that problem; he can sleep soundly anywhere.” He then got out of the car, opened the trunk, and glanced around. “Qiu’er ah, were you spacing out while driving or what? Why stop in a place like this? Look at this grass, dense as a damn wall. Who knows what kind of venomous insects or snakes might be lurking inside? Young Master Shen has such soft, delicate skin; what if he gets bitten?”

Shen Que silently slipped up behind him, let out a soft chuckle, and then delivered a kick to Gang Zi’s backside. “You seem awfully confident. Why don’t you show me just how not delicate your skin is?”

“My ass!” Gang Zi clutched his backside and ducked behind Old Qiu, only daring to stick his head out to protest to Shen Que, his voice quivering, it was hard to tell whether it was from fear or anger. “Even a rabbit doesn’t foul its own nest[mfn]The original saying translates to ‘A rabbit doesn’t eat the grass near its hole,’ meaning don’t harm those close to you[/mfn]! Can we please have some professional courtesy…?”.

“What, you have an objection?” Shen Que’s smile still remains, his ‘peach blossom eyes[mfn]Peach blossom eyes often used to describe attractive, slightly upturned eyes[/mfn]’ full of teasing amusement.

“Young Master Shen, Gang Zi’s butt really isn’t very attractive.”

“You’ve seen it?” Old Qiu nearly choked on his saliva. He looked at the stunned Gang Zi huddled behind him, then at the suddenly intervening Ah Chao, and subtly edged away. They’d worked together for a long time; he’d never heard about that kind of entanglement between the two.

A suspicious blush crept onto Ah Chao’s face. He gave an embarrassed little cough before replying, “Uh-huh. I saw it when I helped him apply hemorrhoid cream.”

“……”

Amidst the bickering and laughter, the group set up the tents and ate. Before it got completely dark, they collected some dry branches and grass from the nearby forest and built a bonfire.

They sat around the fire. The warm, yellow flames flickered in the night wind, casting unsteady, alternating bright and dark reflections on their faces. As the night descended, the atmosphere gradually became more subdued and serious.

Shedding the forced lightness of the daytime, the seriousness was now palpable on everyone’s faces. It was at this moment that Shen Que felt a true sense of the unknown regarding their path ahead.

E’yun Mountain was, by no means, a pleasant destination. It was a billion-year-old primeval forest, shrouded in dense fog for nearly a century, and had remained virtually unexplored in its depths. Current knowledge of it was limited to the outermost regions, and countless adventurers who ventured in never returned.

When they first arrived, they considered hiring a local guide for half the journey. The high commission attracted many, but as soon as they heard “E’yun Mountain,” they all turned and left instantly. Among them were well-meaning people who advised the group to abandon the idea of entering the mountain. The most terrifying threat inside, they claimed, wasn’t the mind-confusing poisonous fog but rather the descendants of the ancient Southern Yin Tribe who had resided in the deepest parts for generations. They were said to practice Gu, and there was even a rumor that the poisonous fog itself was released by them precisely to deter outsiders.

When Shen Que came here the last time, he had shamelessly “sponsored” an exploration team with a huge sum of money, and even formally signed a liability waiver, just to be allowed to tag along.

Unfortunately, his memory had been impaired, leaving him unable to remember anything that occurred inside.

Shen Que exhaled a breath. Gang Zi and Ah Chao noisily entered their tent to prepare for rest, leaving only him and Old Qiu by the fire.

The flames in the fire pit had died down. Shen Que casually picked up a dead branch and tossed it onto the embers.

Old Qiu pulled out two cigarettes, lit them using a smoldering piece of wood, and offered one to Shen Que.

“You should go back tomorrow morning. Just the three of us going in alone is enough,” Old Qiu clenched the cigarette between his teeth, white smoke curling from his mouth and nostrils as the faint firelight accentuated the deep lines etched across his forehead.

Shen Que took the cigarette but didn’t smoke it and just simply held it loosely between two fingers and gently rubbed the butt against his palm. After a long moment, he let out a low laugh and slowly shook his head. “I knew what you were going to say the moment you stopped the car. You won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

Old Qiu rose to his feet, gripping the cigarette’s end firmly between his thumb and forefinger, and took two deep, forceful drags. His voice was husky but revealed a subtle, sharp resolve. “The most likely outcome in there is death! All these years, has anyone ever gone in and made it back out alive? Sure, you came out, but I heard you had to see all kinds of specialists and masters afterward to treat that ‘soul-detachment sickness’ of yours, didn’t you?”

Old Qiu had worked for Old Master Shen since he was young and had essentially watched Shen Que grow up, so he was genuinely reluctant to see him take this risk. As for the external rumors of a no-return zone, he wasn’t afraid. He believed in everything in life except fate or evil spirits, and he was genuinely curious to find out the truth himself.

Of course, what he thought for himself was one thing; trying to talk sense into others was another.

“I’m a blunt man, and I speak roughly. But look at your older brother, how long can he live without finding a cure for that Gu poison? And how many years does your grandfather, at his age, have left? It’s hard to say who will outlive whom, and yet you’re eagerly rushing to jump into the fire pit?”

Shen Que looked up and stared at Old Qiu intently. He smiled and sighed. “Well, wouldn’t that be perfect? Our whole family, neat and tidy, reunited down below. Maybe we’ll even run into you on the Yellow Springs Road.”

Old Qiu was so furious that his cheeks puffed out as he glared, recalling the name Old Master Shen often used for Shen Que—“Little Bastard”—which, at this moment, felt rather fitting.

Shen Que also stood up, dusted off nonexistent dirt from his clothes, and patted Old Qiu’s shoulder. He deliberately slowed his speech, speaking earnestly: “Don’t worry about it. Get some rest. We’ll ‘hit the road’ together tomorrow morning.”

Whether intentionally or not, Shen Que put noticeable emphasis on the phrase “hit the road[mfn]This phrase, ‘上路’ (shàng lù), can also mean ‘to be executed’ or, more ominously, ‘to start on the final journey/path to death,’ reinforcing the dark humor and fatalistic tone.[/mfn].” 

Old Qiu let out a hollow laugh mixed with the sound of grinding teeth.

As the night deepened, a thick mist spread out from the woods, slowly encircling and creeping into the tents where the group rested. Then a peculiar, sweet fragrance seeped through the unsealed gaps, pulling the already light sleepers into a profound slumber.

Under the silent night sky, a rustling sound came from the grass. The somewhat noisy chorus of insects suddenly ceased, replaced by extremely light footsteps, accompanied by the faint jingle of silver ornaments and pendants, drawing closer.

A small snake was the first to reach the tent. Its blue-green scales were coated in an orange-yellow glow from the firelight. It raised its slender tail tip, hooked the zipper pull, and widened the narrow gap.

The firelight flickered and dimmed slightly as a hooded figure settled in front of the fire pit, exactly where Shen Que had been sitting moments before. The hood was large, its rim adorned with tiny silver beads that swayed slightly, casting the upper half of the face in shadow. The dying firelight barely lit the person’s lips, which were full, soft, and pale pink, with the corners slightly curved upward and faint dimples marking the cheeks.

“Clean yourself off on their clothes first before you get near him. You’ve been crawling on the ground for so long; your belly is dirty.”

The little snake, which had almost completely slid into the tent, paused its movement. It stretched out the tip of its tail, coiled it around a small pebble, and flicked it into the fire, sending a shower of sparks flying.

A chilling, slick sensation started at Shen Que’s neck and spread down to his chest, halting there. From the snake’s head, a silvery-blue, nearly translucent butterfly, almost spectral, fluttered onto Shen Que’s chest. In an instant, it dissolved, vanishing silently into the skin and forming a tiny red mole.

The mist settled on the oddly shaped leaves, forming glistening droplets that shimmered as the first rays of morning sunlight broke through the layers of haze, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.

Shen Que got dressed and stretched his limbs in the early light. He subconsciously ran his fingers over his neck; the slick, unsettling sensation from his dream last night seemed to genuinely linger on his skin.

The group quickly finished their breakfast by making sure not to fill their stomachs too much, eating too heavily is unwise when hiking, especially in the wilderness. Then the tents were packed up and thrown into the car. Old Qiu drove the car into a particularly overgrown area for some minimal, better-than-nothing camouflage.

Shen Que stood by the site of last night’s fire. The wood had long been consumed, leaving no warmth, only a mound of ashes that would scatter with the first gust of wind.

Without further delay, they each checked their backpacks again and set off.

At first, the forest path was fairly easy to traverse. Years of yellowed, dry leaves had piled up on the ground, crunching and rustling beneath their feet.

The humid air was filled with the fresh scent of vegetation, subtly mixed with a hint of decay.

They walked for an unknown duration before their tired footsteps gradually halted. Fallen, dead tree trunks lay crisscrossed on the ground, blocking their way.

A fine sheen of sweat broke out on Shen Que’s forehead, and his breathing was no longer as steady as when they started. A beam of sunlight pierced through the thick branches, illuminating Shen Que’s face, making the sweat beads on the tip of his nose glisten, and casting an orange-yellow glow even on the fine downy hairs of his cheeks.

It was 2:14 PM, and the mobile phone signal was down to a pitiful single bar.

The leaves rustled violently as a mountain breeze swept through, startling the countless birds perched on the branches.

Shen Que switched off his phone screen and looked up before meeting a pair of green-glowing eyes.

Just a few dozen meters away among the trees, a bear pressed against a trunk with its front paws raised. Its brown fur blended almost seamlessly with the forest, and its wide, round eyes fixed eagerly on the fresh meal to walk right into its grasp.

But the “food” directly ahead suddenly halted, hesitated, and then retreated before launching itself down a nearly vertical slope, sliding swiftly away from the threat.

A furious roar tore from the brown bear’s throat as it lunged forward, smashing the dead logs scattered on the ground into splinters and sending a cloud of dust billowing into the air.