Of Mountains and Rivers 26
Chapter 26 – He Thought This Was a One-Stop Service for a ‘Funeral’ and ‘Festival for Sweeping Tombs and Making Offerings’.
At midnight, the Patriarch’s truncheon was set aside. It appeared to burn endlessly, the flame ceaselessly alight and the wood never shortening. The glow-emitting flame was like a massive luminous pearl.
Nanshan was sitting upright on a simple and crude chair, his forehead on his arms as he dozed. His brows were slightly furrowed and his long, curly ashes would occasionally tremor a little, groundlessly painting thick and heavy colours on his features.
Chu Huan was distracted for a moment before he realised he’d occupied Nanshan’s bed.
He first tried moving his left hand and found the toxin-caused numbness had practically withdrawn; however, he still couldn’t find any strength in his body.
Chu Huan changed his posture and stretched his aching limbs. He briefly recalled what happened before; as a result, the more he pondered the more restless he became.
At this moment, he urgently wanted to find someone and thoroughly ask for a cause and effect.
This was no longer to satisfy his curiosity; Chu Huan needed someone to prove he wasn’t crazy.
But although a suitable candidate, Nanshan, was right in front of him, he was asleep. Chu Huan was at a loss for a while; in the end, the urgency in his heart was defeated by Nanshan’s sleeping face. He restrained his anxiety, unable to bear disrupting him.
Chu Huan wearily closed his eyes, deciding that after he went back he’d find a psychiatrist no matter what.
He discovered his symptoms were developing to a point he couldn’t even trust his own cognition.
Thinking like this, Chu Huan unconsciously rotated the ring on his finger, yet unexpectedly found nothing there. His heartbeat palpitated; unsure of where he got his strength from, he abruptly turned over and sat up.
It wasn’t until he found the ‘Just Teasing You’ ring beside him on the blanket did Chu Huan breathe a sigh of relief. He slipped it onto his finger again, appearing to have touched his life-saving straw.
After doing all this, Chu Huan blinked his dry eyes, unable to help but feel introspective. He felt relying on an object was slightly abnormal and found it a bit lame.
Just like this, Chu Huan found himself stuffily annoyed for a moment. He reluctantly raised his spirit and regained a revolutionary optimistic drive, self-comforting himself by thinking: Forget it. This is, after all, the old man’s remnant – it’s not wrong for me to safeguard it well.
At this time, a hand stretched over and stuck itself against his forehead.
Nanshan was still woken up by the noise.
“It’s still hot,” Nanshan said. He brought over a bowl of water to Chu Huan. “Drink. After you finish drinking, sleep a bit more. This is a toxin-caused fever. It’ll be withdrawn by tomorrow.”
Chu Huan: “What toxin?”
Nanshan: “Mutayi.”
Chu Huan had heard Little Bald-Head say this in the river. He shifted his gaze. The CPU in his brain ignored the high temperature and began whirling – this particular animal has a name, a name that even children knew; this meant it wasn’t an exotic species that only appeared in recent years. If he used the mindset from that side of the river, then the dark monster here was probably similar to the concept of the ‘Big Bad Wolf’ and ‘Small White Bunny’.
They were extremely fierce; after a quick fight, Chu Huan couldn’t figure out what natural enemies these things could have. In addition, their movements were exceedingly fast and nimble. Against such high-speed actions, even hunters with guns who haven’t trained before would find it hard to hit them… Moreover, it was hard to say if their local handmade rifles could penetrate the sclerites and bristles.
But how could nobody have known such fierce wild animals suddenly appeared within the country?
Nanshan: “We all listened to Ankarayiye speak about it.”
Chu Huan was startled. “…Who?”
Nanshan waited for him to finish drinking the water before gently pressing Chu Huan’s shoulders and letting him lie down again.
Then, Nanshan’s gaze involuntarily paused at Chu Huan’s ring. After the pause, his expression constricted and he firmly said, “It’s the boy who secretly snuck out. The clans-people are all very grateful. After your fever breaks, his parents want to come over and thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me – it’s what I ought to do.” Chu Huan waved his hand, followed by a question he’d always wanted to ask. “Did Little Bald-Head get beaten?”
Nanshan: “He has to be taught a lesson. But rest assured, he’s still young after all; his family knows when to stop.”
As the people’s benevolent teacher, after Chu Huan heard this he immediately showed a brilliant display of surface concern.
Of course, keeping up appearances was just keeping up appearances; his complex inner world wasn’t very benevolent and kept malevolently howling: What do you mean ‘knows when to stop’? He has to be given a severe beating – at least to the point he’s wailing and crying for three days!
In the end, Chu Huan once again fell asleep within this thundering inner world.
Nanshan stood by the bed. He waited for the other’s breathing to steady out before gently holding Chu Huan’s hands and opening his palms.
From the back, they appeared slender and refined, but from the front, they looked horrific; thick calluses were birthed between his fingers and his palms were covered by fragmented scars, causing his palm lines to scramble into a tremendous mess.
Chu Huan’s lips were dry to a chapped point. The cold moonlight shining in from the window swept across his chin; on the side of his neck was an old scar left by an unknown source that almost severed his blood vessels, leaving an alarming dent.
Nanshan stretched out his hand as if wanting to touch it; however, his hand stretched out halfway before, for unknown reasons, he silently retracted it.
He unconsciously rubbed his own fingers and pulled the blanket over Chu Huan before lightly walking out.
Xiao Fang had been waiting by the door, sometimes peering into the room; seeing Nanshan come out, he hurriedly straightened up. “Patriarch.”
At this time, except over the waters, the fog had completely dispersed.
It was truly a thousand miles of cold moonlight and continuous mountain ranges.
Without the white fog sheltering them, the forest with no leaves currently exhibited a mournful somberness and dejectedness.
The bones surrounding the entire clan were still stuck in place, acting as strange street lights. It was late at night, yet the clans-people were patrolling, on alert and combat-ready. Apart from the rustle of footsteps, only silence surrounded them.
Nanshan asked with a low voice, “Are there any news from the Gatekeepers?”
Xiao Fang hurriedly took out a stone from his pocket. A knife was carved on it; someone had used their thumb to smear bloodstains on the tip of the knife. Just looking at it like this caused a sense of urgency to rush to his face.
Knife and blood – in no civilisation would this mean ‘peace and tranquility’.
This was the Gatekeeper’s warning.
“Look.” Nanshan held the stone in his palm and pointed to the moon in the sky. Xiao Fang followed his gaze and looked up.
At this moment, there were actually two moons hanging in the sky. One was brighter whilst the other was bleaker, like the moon’s water reflection.
“The second shake may arrive within one or two days. Pass this on to Spring. Prepare more food and have the warriors sharpen their swords – there will be a tough battle this year.”
Xiao Fang immediately nodded. He lifted his foot to leave; he took two steps before he remembered something and his footsteps paused. “Then… My King…”
“He’s okay,” Nanshan said, “He’d already awoken once.”
Xiao Fang was taken aback. “What? He’s okay? But if people from that side of the river stays here with us long-term, don’t they have to-”
Nanshan: “Sh – quiet down. He’s asleep.”
He turned around and glanced into the room; then, he lowered his voice and said to Xiao Fang, “I don’t know either.”
Xiao Fang couldn’t understand, so he stopped thinking about it. He lamented ruefully, “Either way, I’ve never seen someone who’d drunk the antidote blood that could stand and walk back. He… Ai, no matter who he is, he’s still a man; I like him. Patriarch, the mountain is sealed now meaning he can’t leave. How about you discuss with him and let him stay?”
Nanshan was slightly lost in thought. After a while, he sighed deeply. “I’ll try.”
After Xiao Fang left, Nanshan sat by the entrance and took out the harmonica Chu Huan gave him. At where the night and moonlight interchanged, he casually blew a small tune.
He hesitated.
•·················•·················•
It’d be another few hours before Chu Huan’s fever broke.
The last time he opened his eyes, he saw Nanshan under the moonlight and felt carefree and relaxed; his wounded mind was immediately comforted. This time he didn’t receive such a good deal. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw Flower Bud secretly peeking at him from the Patriarch’s house’s window.
Flower Bud was standing on her little attendant’s back, peering inside strenuously. Her gaze caught the just-awoken Chu Huan, catching her off guard; she made a sudden and startled ‘aiya’.
She was truly old but not old, young but not young. She’d just reached the age where she understood to save face yet in her spare time she’d go to the Patriarch’s house to peek at a man and was even caught red-handed. Her small face immediately flushed.
Flower Bud leapt down, flustered, stepping on her little attendant and causing him to let out a blood-curdling screech.
Chu Huan heard murmurs of ‘what’s wrong, what’s wrong’ from the corner and couldn’t help but feel a headache.
After that event with Little Bald-Head, he didn’t want to see any minors for some time.
At this moment, someone sharply called out ‘Patriarch’; a clutter of footsteps sounded outside the window as the children dispersed in confusion.
Nanshan stood at the door for a while and scared away the last brat sticking his head out for a peek before entering.
Seeing him in a sober state where he wasn’t under a fever and the effects of toxins, Chu Huan felt calm – he felt this was a stolen moment in time, like he was a miserable child who’d dreamt of starting school but woke up and found the delight and happiness of discovering there were still a few days left before the end of the holidays.
This made his entire heart lively.
Chu Huan noticed Nanshan was holding a bowl of medicinal soup in one hand and a basket made of twigs in the other.
There were fresh leaves in the basket interwoven with flowers as decoration… En, most of them were white flowers. Among the bouquet of flowers was a piece of ham that didn’t quite fit in with the scenery. Surrounding the ham were wild, bright-red strawberries; this looked both bizarre and festive.
Chu Huan had never seen this kind of eccentric packaging. “What custom is this?”
Nanshan: “You saved a child from our clan. Everyone in the clan prepared this for you.”
Chu Huan choked, unable to accept this. “A gift?”
Nanshan glanced at him with puzzlement as if asking ‘or else?’
Chu Huan: “…”
He thought this was a one-stop service for a ‘funeral’ and ‘festival for sweeping tombs and making offerings’.
And it had to be a funeral arranged for an elderly man who died of natural causes.
