TSMITB Chapter35

The courtyard gate was pushed open, and Sheng Qixiao entered the small building, his figure bathed in the last lingering glow of the sunset, followed by three or five members of the tribe.

Shen Que swiftly tucked his phone under the pillow and stood by the door while waiting for Sheng Qixiao to approach step by step.

On the bed lay elaborately crafted garments. The smoky-purple fabric was embroidered with fine, intricate patterns, its subdued sheen flowing faintly in the deepening twilight.

“You’ll wear this today. I’ll help you.”

Shen Que did not refuse.

Layer upon layer of soft fabric covered his body. Sheng Qixiao carefully secured the sash around Shen Que’s waist. The pressure was perfectly measured, drawing out the slim line of his figure, yet it also felt as though an unseen pair of restraints had quietly been locked around him.

“So this was what the embroidery was meant for.” Shen Que murmured softly, his fingers brushing over the stitched patterns on the belt as a complicated, indescribable feeling welled up inside him.

Sheng Qixiao pressed Shen Que down into the rattan chair by the window. The pale golden sky was slowly swallowed by ink-dark night, causing the eyes of the two figures by the window to seem deeper and darker with every passing moment.

“Today is the Moon Glazing Festival,” Sheng Qixiao’s tone was tender like a lover’s whisper. He dipped his head slightly to look at Shen Que. Reflected in his eyes was Shen Que clad in ceremonial robes, and an indescribable sense of anticipation slowly rose within him. “Today is the day to pray for the blessings of the nature spirits. Every wish made will come true.”

He leaned closer and closer until his warm breath fanned Shen Que’s ear. His voice held a hint of seduction, “Is there anything you desire? As long as you speak it aloud, even if the nature spirits are unwilling to answer with their power…” He paused, his voice dropping softer, yet carrying an unmistakable gravity. “…I will make it happen for you.”

Time flowed slowly in the silence. Outside the small building, a joyous wave of sound unique to the festival swelled, yet all of it seemed separated by an invisible barrier with the two people inside the building unable to sense it at all.

Deep within Sheng Qixiao’s eyes, the final glimmer of hope flickered weakly, wavering between light and darkness amid the endless wait.

He had placed the power of choice in Shen Que’s hands. He was waiting for Shen Que’s final judgment.

He thought that if Shen Que was willing to place his trust in him, then everything could end here; he could keep the other side of himself from tearing through the facade he had maintained for so long, and quietly hold on to the best future he could possibly have with Shen Que.

Shen Que remained motionless, sitting straight-backed as he stared out the window without blinking.

Should he believe him?

At this point, was there any need for him and Sheng Qixiao to discuss trust?

“Really?”

“Really. Anything you need, I will satisfy you.”

Tell me, tell me your true purpose for coming here; tell me what you need me to bring you.

As long as it’s today, all past deceit and concealment would be completely wiped clean.

Shen Que twitched the corner of his lips and revealed an extremely beautiful smile. The two were close enough to touch, yet the words echoing in their ears were as distant and vague as if separated by a thousand mountains and rivers. “I want to go home. I’ll leave tonight. I won’t be joining your festival.”

There was no response.

“Just kidding.” Shen Que’s smile deepened. He shook his head, his voice calm as he softly said, “Sheng Qixiao, I don’t need anything.”

The moment the words fell, the expression on Sheng Qixiao’s face returned to flatness. The dim candlelight of hope in his eyes was utterly snuffed out, sinking back into lifeless silence and darkness. Every emotion seemed sealed away and buried deep within, leaving behind nothing but a cold, unfathomable determination.

The two did not speak again.

Silver chains of varying lengths and a collar engraved with cloud patterns were gently hung around Shen Que’s neck.

Sheng Qixiao meticulously adjusted every detail for him.

In the next moment, Shen Que felt a sudden weight settle upon his head as an exquisite silver crown was carefully and firmly placed there.

The silver crown was assembled from countless fine fragments and strands of silver, each piece meticulously polished until it gleamed with a smooth, delicate sheen. On both sides, long silver chains cascaded down, adorned with assorted ornamental trinkets. At the crown’s peak, butterflies and floral motifs swayed gently, emitting soft, clear chimes with every slight movement.

Sheng Qixiao stepped back to put distance between himself and Shen Que.

“Time is almost up.” His voice settled back into its usual composure, even edged with a faint detachment, the earlier warmth entirely gone. “Old Qiu and the others should have already changed as well. You can go to the temple with them later. Ke Di will come to pick you up.”

The Temple Plaza.

Tall torches were ignited, their flames rising high within the temple grounds. At the center, the fire roared upward, its wildly flickering blaze staining the dark sky with a vivid, fiery red. Beyond the main raised platform, bonfires were set in other areas as well, where tribespeople gathered in circles, singing and dancing in unison.

“How is it? This is the true look of our village.” Ke Di spoke in a low voice as he stood beside Shen Que. Then he passed him a mask, the very one Shen Que had carefully painted earlier in the small building. “He said for you to wear this.”

Shen Que wore a proper smile as if fully immersed in the joy of the festival. Hearing Ke Di’s voice, he looked back, his gaze gentle, like a true gentleman. Yet the words he spoke held undisguised sharpness, “Why doesn’t he come himself?”

Ke Di chuckled, looked up at the sky, and offered no reply.

Old Qiu and the others were also blended into the crowd, moving awkwardly in time with the rhythm as they danced. Amid the noise and commotion, their eyes remained sharp, constantly surveying their surroundings.

Large drums began to beat in a steady rhythm, their deep, resonant sound cutting cleanly through the surrounding clamor. For a brief moment, everything fell into an uncanny silence, broken only by the crackle of sparks bursting from the fire.

A tall figure wearing a mask and magnificent black ceremonial robes ascended the high platform from the other side, surrounded by a group of people also wearing masks.

Several white-robed elders stood dispersed before the platform, each holding a scepter taller than themselves as they chanted incantations. When the drumming briefly paused, their voices rose in intensity, and the surrounding crowd responded in kind, their movements shifting into a more fervent dance. Robes billowed and silver ornaments rang out in sharp, rhythmic tones as the entire assembly surged forward toward the high platform.

Shen Que was squeezed in the crowd. The solemn ceremonial robe, together with the ornate and weighty headdress upon his head, made movement increasingly difficult. Unable to break free, he was swept along by the press of the crowd, large hands inadvertently pushing and steering him forward until he was carried toward the steps of the high platform.

Chanting poured down from the high platform, blending with the thunderous beat of the drums as ancient words rose from the mouths of thousands, merging into a vast, resonant tide of sound.

“Come.”

The person on the high platform extended a hand. His lips barely moved, yet a simple syllable easily tore through the surrounding noise and clearly reached Shen Que’s ears.

Shen Que lifted his eyes, and through the mask, his gaze met that of the tall figure standing before him.

That figure stood alone at the center of the high platform, wearing robes of a similar style to Shen Que’s, though far more elaborate and intricate. His face was concealed beneath a silver-black mask engraved with an ancient totem, leaving only his jawline and a pair of dark, unreadable eyes visible.

In the flickering firelight, the eyes beneath the mask no longer held their former clarity, but were instead swallowed by a deep, bottomless darkness; like a vortex with no end. He stood motionless, calm and silent, as though a deity receiving offerings from below.

“Sheng Qixiao.”

Shen Que muttered the name. He was the offering the deity was waiting for.

The chanting suddenly surged. The moment their eyes met, all the surrounding noise was excluded.

The figure gave a slight nod. A faint pale-purple light flickered briefly in his eyes, and the corners of his lips, still faintly tinged with color, curved into a subtle smile. “Come to my side.”

Shen Que’s world quieted down. Only Sheng Qixiao’s low voice remained in his ears. As though his consciousness were being drawn along by invisible threads, he stepped onto the high platform, moving forward one slow, unbroken step at a time toward Sheng Qixiao.

A huge, bright white moon slowly rose from the mountaintop behind them. The cold, clear moonlight intertwined with the blazing bonfires, enveloping the high platform and the entire plaza in a field of irregularly leaping light and shadow.

Countless red threads falling from an unknown source tightly wrapped the two figures on the platform together.

The white-robed elder stepped forward once more, reciting those ancient, obscure syllables as before. His cadence was unnaturally swift, his tone strange and elusive. Shen Que felt as though he understood it, yet at the same time, it all slipped past his comprehension.

He simply turned his body and looked up at Sheng Qixiao, following his lead in silence. He gripped the countless red cords in his palms tightly, and together with him, he drank from the cup of wine, proclaiming the oath with every phrase.

“By the bright moon as witness, and the red thread as covenant, receiving the blessings of heaven and earth, we are bound together for this lifetime.”

It’s unclear how much time passed, perhaps only an instant, or perhaps an eternal covenant had been reached.

The surrounding clamor swelled once more. For a brief instant, Shen Que’s mind went blank. When his awareness returned, he found himself already standing upon the high platform with only Sheng Qixiao beside him, whose demeanor was completely different from usual, beside him.

His fingers were laced with Sheng Qixiao’s, and even their heartbeats were close. He then heard Sheng Qixiao say those two words to him again, “Ah Ya.”

“What did you do? Why was I just now…”

Shen Que reached to take off the mask on his face but was stopped by Sheng Qixiao. His unfinished words were also sealed in his throat, unable to let out a single sound.

Sheng Qixiao forcefully held his hand, stepped over a scattering of red threads, and slowly walked down the high platform.

Cheers and blessings surged up one after another from beneath the platform. Sheng Qixiao finally curved his lips into a smile; one that seemed to pull at both heart and pulse, dazzling and radiant like a sky full of stars scattered across the night.

But he never looked at the person beside him. Shen Que was wearing the wedding attire he had personally sewn. The distant glance from below the platform had carried unmistakable affection for him, yet it was still a pity that Shen Que did not know that from this very moment onward, he had already entered into a marriage with him.

Having been pushed all the way to the very edge by the surging crowd, Old Qiu and the others could only watch the ceremony unfolding at the center from beyond the swaying from cheering sea of people, their faces settling into an unspeakable heaviness.

Gang Zi was about to speak but was silenced by Old Qiu’s hand over his mouth.

In the shadows not far away, two figures moved with furtive caution, skirting around the flow of people as they quietly slipped toward the side of the main hall. They quickly pried open the window of the most inconspicuous side hall and climbed inside.

The group exchanged glances and silently followed them.

Perhaps they had all been wrong before, thinking that the more important a thing was, the more cautiously it would be preserved. This habitual way of thinking led them to overlook this place all along.

The group slipped inside quietly and discovered that this side hall was directly connected to the mountain itself. A section of the rock wall had been hollowed out. The space, which looked tiny from the outside, was extremely vast on the inside.

Curtains were draped inside the hall, and the light remained dim; a few scattered lamps were not enough to illuminate the entire space. The group seized the chance and hid themselves behind the pillars.

There were no other decorations in the hall. The rock wall was covered in irregularly carved hollows, and nearly every recess contained a redwood box.

The two people were searching for something sequentially one by one. Although they were wearing the tribal attire, they looked extremely unfamiliar, suggesting they might be from the outer village.

Perhaps because they had lived in the outside world for a long time, the two of them did not speak in the Miao language but instead communicated fluently in Mandarin.

“It seems the elders were right. The Fate Gu must be hidden here.”

Old Qiu and the others instantly sharpened their focus, straining their ears as they tried to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two men.

“That’s natural. Where else could it be hidden then? You still remember what the Fate Gu looks like, right?”

“I couldn’t forget it even if I died a thousand deaths. Once we get the mother Gu, let’s see how he can still control us.”

Old Qiu shook his head.

Gang Zi, however, smiled, his large white teeth flashing in a way that looked somewhat sinister in the dim light. Sheng Qixiao had gone to great lengths to set this up, but now, all his precautions against outsiders were useless against betrayal from within. This was an opportunity delivered right to them.

“Found it!”

One of them let out an exclamation, and the other immediately moved forward.

The redwood box was carefully pried open. Inside lay a long, worm-like Gu insect, motionless and quiet. Its body was semi-transparent, with a faint purple glow seeming to flow beneath its surface. Its two slender antennae were slightly curved, and its wings, thin as cicada wings, twitched slightly.

“Close it quickly! It can’t be exposed to the light.”

“Let’s go!”

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Old Qiu roared before pouncing with the swiftness of a leopard.

This sudden turn of events caught the two men off guard, but they were not easy targets. They reacted almost instantly, their eyes turning sharp and ferocious as they hissed, “Outsiders? Get lost!”

“Less talk, let’s fight!”

A fierce struggle immediately erupted in the confined space.

The sound of fists and feet colliding was followed by suppressed cries of pain, mixed with the sound of objects being knocked over and shattered.

In the chaos, someone accidentally knocked over a burning lamp.

With a clang, lamp oil splashed out.

The flames quickly began to devour the hanging cloth curtains, and the fire spread in an instant.

The bright moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery, crystalline light, draping the boundless night in a thin veil of faint, gauzy glow.

Deep, powerful drumbeats rolled on without pause. Around the bonfires, tribespeople danced in circles, their skirts swirling and their unrestrained smiles pushing the festive atmosphere to its peak.

“Fire! There is fire!”

The sudden shouts instantly shattered the lively scene. Everyone turned in unison to look toward the side hall.

Old Qiu kicked one of them down, seized the wooden box, and flung it over his shoulder to Ah Chao, barking, “Take it to him quickly!”

The moment the words left his mouth, he took a heavy punch.

Gang Zi also leaped into the fray. The two of them covered Ah Chao while shouting, “Go! Hurry!”

Ah Chao struggled to his feet, then, ignoring the pain throughout his body, he slipped out through the narrow crack of the window like an eel.

Figures shifted within the side hall, their every movement cast in silhouette against the window frames by the flickering firelight.

Outside, the crowd surged and roared, and faint, unintelligible cries of alarm reached Shen Que’s ears.

In the crowding press, someone jostled him hard enough that his mask was knocked loose and dropped to the ground. Before he could reach for it, it was kicked and stepped on by countless feet until its original shape was unrecognizable.

Shen Que straightened up and took two steps forward but didn’t know which way to go. The crowd was chaotic.

Suddenly, someone bumped his back, and a heavy object fell into his arms. The surface felt rough with many intricate patterns on it, it was a wooden box.

“Young Master Shen, the mother Gu. Keep it safe.”

Shen Que’s heart sank in terror. He immediately clutched the box tightly in his palm and concealed it with the wide sleeve of his robe. When he looked up again, Ah Chao was nowhere to be seen.

A strong sense of foreboding surged through him, tightening his breath until it nearly stalled. All he could see was the leaping firelight reaching high into the sky. Still shaken, Shen Que was carried along by the moving crowd, taking unsteady, stumbling steps forward.

Sheng Qixiao, where did Sheng Qixiao go?

A cool hand firmly supported Shen Que, who was stumbling from the crowd’s jostling.

Sheng Qixiao had returned to his side at some point. In his other hand was the broken mask.

Shen Que’s gaze flickered. He only hoped Sheng Qixiao hadn’t seen Ah Chao hand him the mother Gu.

Sheng Qixiao’s lips were tightly pressed. He glanced toward the chaotic fire, then looked down at Shen Que’s pale face and the hand he instinctively tried to hide behind his back. His eyes were turbulent with emotion.

“It’s dangerous here. I’ll take you back first.” Sheng Qixiao’s voice was utterly calm as if the chaos before them had nothing to do with him. He reached out and firmly gripped Shen Que’s shoulder before pulling him into an embrace with unyielding force, separating him from the confused crowd.

The two walked against the flow of people, and the clamor gradually receded.

“Sheng Qixiao.” Shen Que’s heart thudded violently in his chest. He swallowed hard, his throat tight and dry, and called out Sheng Qixiao’s name.

“Shh.” Sheng Qixiao raised his index finger and lightly touched Shen Que’s lips. “Don’t say anything.”

“Don’t come out.” Sheng Qixiao stood outside the courtyard gate, silently watching Shen Que’s disoriented figure going upstairs, his expression complex and unreadable.

Seeing Shen Que enter the house looking utterly lost, he then turned away without hesitation while carrying a weighty black cloud of anger, and plunged back into the chaos where fire soared and human voices rosed.

The heavy silver ornaments clattered discordantly in the dark night.