The afternoon sunlight was just right; the mountains had shed their hazy veil, revealing a vivid emerald hue. Temple eaves emerged intermittently among layers of dense green forest, while the stone steps winding downward had been swept meticulously clean. The small blue-green snake still silently trailed behind Shen Que and his group, its tiny black eyes wide as it looked around left and right, as though it were a devoted little guard.
Compared to the previous darkness and stillness, the temple was now more than a little lively. People of the Miao ethnic group, dressed in traditional attire, moved back and forth in busy activity, the silver ornaments on their bodies chiming with a clear, crisp sound. Although there was no obvious joy on their faces, there was anticipation in every pair of eyes, and even the temperature, which was already a few degrees lower than outside due to the low-lying terrain, was warmed by the excitement.
This was the first time Shen Que had observed the entire scattered, enclosed architectural complex up close. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the dark green walls were carved with intricate patterns, like flowing talismans concealed within the shadows. Bright red lanterns were hung before every hall, their vivid glow forming a stark contrast against the buildings’ original subdued tones. The collision of light and dark created an indescribable sense of eeriness, and an unnameable, strange emotion lingered in Shen Que’s heart.
Sheng Qixiao’s gaze consistently followed Shen Que’s line of sight, taking in everything in his eyes. Old Qiu and the others had already silently dispersed, melting into the crowd, and vanished in an instant.
Ke Di was directing members of the tribe as they erected a circular raised platform in the open clearing nearby. Red cloth, embroidered and edged with gold thread, was carefully laid out and firmly fastened in place.
Nine large drums stood arranged around the elevated platform, and beyond them were tall torches, neatly set in order but not yet lit. The air was thick with the rich scent of grass and wood.
Sheng Qixiao watched from a distance, his interest evidently piqued. Though he said nothing, Shen Que could clearly sense the excitement within him.
“Sheng Qixiao,” Shen Que said, his tone carrying a trace of just the right amount of consideration, “Do you want to go help? Don’t worry about me, I’ll stay right here and won’t wander off.” As he spoke, he raised a hand to point at a few figures busy nearby with his eyes open and honest.
Sheng Qixiao lowered his gaze to Shen Que, his eyes shifting faintly. In those two deep, unfathomable pools, a slight ripple stirred, breaking apart the reflection of Shen Que’s softly smiling face. Sheng Qixiao’s voice was soft. “Are you afraid they’ll blame me for not helping?” Or do you just want to send me away?
He didn’t say the second half out loud; the answer they both knew didn’t need to be stated or asked.
Shen Que watched Sheng Qixiao’s receding figure, tall and straight, the silver ornaments in his hair glinting softly beneath the sunlight.
The carefully maintained gentle expression on his face slowly faded; the corners of his lips curved downward slightly, and a sharp coldness surfaced in his eyes. His gaze swept quickly across the entire square.
Almost all the buildings had their doors open except for the one in the very center. Its hall door was tightly shut, exuding a deadly stillness that was out of place with the surrounding liveliness. Even the busy tribespeople walked around it as if avoiding something.
Shen Que’s gaze settled on a precise point of focus. Through the narrow gaps in the carved wooden window, an unstable flicker of candlelight could be seen. As the light and shadow trembled, a breeze slipped through, carrying with it a faintly familiar, peculiar scent.
Shen Que remembered this smell.
He no longer hesitated, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with his hands, moving inch by inch towards the tightly shut hall door while looking back at the direction Sheng Qixiao had just gone as he moved.
In the blink of an eye, that familiar figure vanished into the crowd without warning, and even the little snake that had been following him neither far nor near was gone. Shen Que’s movement paused, and he immediately began to search with his eyes.
“Where are you going?” A gentle yet probing voice sounded from behind him as a hand firmly grasped the back of the wheelchair, pinning it firmly in place.
Shen Que’s spine went rigid. He slowly turned his head, and the moment he did so, the flash of surprise on his face had already been replaced by calm composure; smooth and seamless, without the slightest trace of guilt or panic at being caught. Sheng Qixiao had somehow appeared behind him. The blue-green snake was coiled on his shoulder, tilting its head to look at Shen Que.
“How did you end up here?” Sheng Qixiao easily steering Shen Que away from the tightly closed door while holding the wheelchair.
Shen Que stared at the flagstone path beneath his feet with his palms resting on his knees, gripping tightly, “I didn’t see you just now, and I was about to go look for you.”
“Is that so? I thought you had somewhere you wanted to go. I can take you.” Sheng Qixiao lowered his head, his long eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath his eyes. His usually even tone was now full of concern. “Your leg is finally almost healed. If anything happens to it again, I would be heartbroken.”
Shen Que leaned back against the wheelchair, allowing Sheng Qixiao to push him forward, as though he had not heard the word “heartbroken” at all. He acknowledged Sheng Qixiao’s so-called affection for him, but he understood more and more clearly that that affection did not prevent him from constantly being wary of him.
The little snake was the best proof of that.
“No, I don’t want to go anywhere.” Shen Que’s voice betrayed no emotion.
Silence spread between the two, carrying a subtle tension. The superficial care and underlying probing silently tore and collided in the air.
Just then, Gang Zi suddenly darted out from somewhere with sweat beading on his forehead and his expression full of unease. He met Shen Que’s gaze in a brief exchange, his eyes carrying a clear, palpable alarm.
He wiped his face, his voice carrying undeniable anxiety and urgency, yet he pretended to be calm and joked, “How was your little stroll? When are we heading back? A man has his urges, I really can’t hold it in anymore.”
The expression on Sheng Qixiao’s face remained unchanged. His gaze lingered on Gang Zi’s sweaty forehead for a moment and he didn’t miss his slightly evasive eyes.
His brow lifted almost imperceptibly. Sheng Qixiao leaned closer to Shen Que, his long hair spilling onto Shen Que’s shoulder with the motion. “Why don’t you go back and rest first?” The consideration in his tone was almost identical to Shen Que’s when he had concerned himself with Sheng Qixiao earlier. “I still have some things to do here, and I’m uneasy leaving you alone. Go with him, and I’ll be back later.”
Old Qiu and Ah Chao also happened to return from watching the excitement, and they quickly chimed in, “Are you guys heading back? Let’s go together then.”
The deliberately relaxed expressions on their faces completely collapsed after they turned away, leaving only an unconcealed solemnity.
Sheng Qixiao stood in place while watching them walk away, but the expression on his face gradually came alive. In his peripheral vision, the circular high platform had been erected. That patch of bright red reflected into his eyes, stirring up the giant waves hidden within his calm gaze.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes once again directed toward the tightly closed hall door, and the corner of his mouth curled into an extremely faint and cold arc.
The little snake on his shoulder also tactfully slid to the ground, instantly disappearing into the grass by the roadside.
Back at the small building, the moment the door was closed, Gang Zi exploded, “Damn it, wrong, it was all completely wrong!”
Shen Que had already noticed something was off with the three of them. “What exactly is going on?”
“The three of us snuck in through the side window when they weren’t paying attention.”
A Chao’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice was dry, and he slowly said, “What was in the jars in that room wasn’t Gu insects…”
“What?!” Shen Que’s face instantly darkened.
If the jars didn’t contain Gu, then their previous plan and all his maneuvering with Sheng Qixiao—and what he had endured—wouldn’t all have been in vain?
Or had their actions been exposed long ago, and those things had been replaced?
Old Qiu took a deep breath and stated clearly, “What was in the jars was not Gu insects, it was ashes. A room full of ashes.”
Shen Que’s expression went blank for a moment, his pupils suddenly contracting. A chilling sensation shot straight up his spine to his forehead.
“Are you sure?”
“I’d rather it be all baby formula, damn it.” Gang Zi took half a step back and heavily sat on the bed before vigorously rubbing his face with his hands. “It was definitely ashes.”
Shen Que was silent for a moment, then spoke softly, “Sheng Qixiao previously said that the deceased in the village would eventually be buried in that river. We all saw the pile of skeletons at the bottom of the river.”
The room fell silent.
A massive sense of unease and uncertainty rushed in from all directions, almost engulfing Shen Que. His fingertips trembled slightly, and his gaze aimlessly swept over every corner of the small room. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, he had long regarded this small building as the only safe house in E’yun Mountain.
But now…
Shen Que blinked and forced back the inexplicable bitterness that welled up.
Could it be that the tribespeople later felt the river was polluted by the traitor’s remains and thus changed their funeral customs… But a room full of jars could not have been collected overnight.
Sheng Qixiao, you lied to me.
Shen Que’s expression changed several times; he couldn’t describe the feeling in his heart. He believed he was the one manipulating Sheng Qixiao, yet he failed to realize that the one wearing the guise of a harmless little white rabbit was not some slightly cunning fox, but a big-tailed wolf instead; one that advanced step by step, steadily guiding him toward an abyss woven entirely from lies.
“What do we do now?” Ah Chao asked timidly, breaking the silence in the room.
They had thought they had grasped a clue, but at this moment, everything had fallen back to square one.
Gang Zi slapped his forehead and was full of regret. “If only I had known, I should have pried one open and checked at the time. Now, where can we even look…”
“It’s fine.” Shen Que quickly adjusted his emotions, regaining his composure, his fingers subconsciously lightly tapping the armrest. “There’s still time, it’s not too late.”
“What if those ashes are just a decoy, and the Gu insects are actually underneath the ashes? How about we go dig them up and check tonight?” Old Qiu crossed his arms, propped his chin on one hand, and rubbed the short blue stubble that had just appeared with his fingertip.
“?” Ah Chao’s mouth hung open, his eyes flicking about nervously, his facial features almost scrunched together as he struggled to get the words out. “Is being this unethical really okay? Are you… are you still Old Qiu?”
“But there’s no time, we can’t delay any longer. The later it gets, the harder it will probably be to get away.”
“Let me think some more.”
On the windowsill outside, Xiao Pao lazily propped itself up before wagging its tail before slowly leaving.
Shen Que locked himself in his room, meticulously sorting through all the information he had.
He knew time was running out. Blending in with the departing outer village tribespeople after the Moon Festival might be the most foolproof plan.
The original plan was to steal all the Gu insects from that hall and then find a master to identify them after they left. But now, it seemed like a fanciful idea.
Even if those jars did contain Gu insects, once people from the outer village arrived, there would be far too many eyes watching; a single misstep would be tantamount to walking straight into a trap.
“What are you thinking about?” A familiar voice interrupted Shen Que’s thoughts. Sheng Qixiao stood at the doorway, his fingers slightly curled, his knuckles tapping lightly against the door panel in a perfunctory, symbolic knock.
