Of Mountains and Rivers 53

Chu Huan cleaned up the iron frame and plate, not saying anything extra. He casually washed his hands and nodded to Nan Shan, saying, "Alright, rest now. I'm leaving."

 

His demeanor was surprisingly calm, as if he had just casually dropped by—completely unexpected for Nan Shan.

 

Even after Chu Huan's shadow disappeared, Nan Shan remained dazed and unresponsive. Chu Huan used to be lazy, eating and lazing around all day, but that didn't mean he lacked insight into people. He just hadn't had many people worth pondering about. Now that he had someone like Nan Shan, his rusty analytical mind found a new purpose.

 

Chu Huan was worried about Nan Shan's fever, so he hadn't dared to rest the whole night. With nothing else to do, he had napped intermittently while scheming and calculating the rocky road that awaited Nan Shan.

 

Chu Huan had a clear train of thought. People with strong wills like Nan Shan usually make decisions that are as unyielding as a rock. If someone opposed him, Nan Shan would strengthen his resolve. Over time, his convictions would be unshakable.

 

Chu Huan decided to play with him, using a strategy of hot and cold, allowing the stubborn clan leader enough space to contemplate.

 

However, the most crucial thing at the moment was to gather as much information as possible from the Fallen Land. If Nan Shan accidentally died there, no strategy would be of any use.

 

Chu Huan picked up the barbecue frame, planning to go up the mountain to find the elder, but he ran into Yuan Ping on the way.

 

"Hey, that someone, our clan leader, asked me to find…" Yuan Ping's words suddenly stopped as he noticed the barbecue frame in Chu Huan's hand. His eyes widened, and he completely forgot his original purpose: "What's that?"

 

Chu Huan calmly lied, "A makeshift workbench I made."

 

Yuan Ping was infuriated: "Nonsense! It's not even cleaned properly!"

 

Pretending not to hear, Chu Huan asked, "Where is our clan leader? Is he at the Holy Spring or at the mountain gate?"

 

Yuan Ping said, "The glutton will die alone."

 

Chu Huan asked again, "Which side of the mountain gate? Inside or outside?"

 

Yuan Ping repeated, "The glutton will live a lonely life."

 

Chu Huan stopped in his tracks, standing motionless under Yuan Ping's resentful gaze. Eventually, Yuan Ping's remaining rationality surfaced, and he reluctantly pointed out the way: "The first checkpoint at the mountain gate."

 

Chu Huan turned around and swiftly walked away, with Yuan Ping relentlessly chasing after him, muttering curses, "The glutton will face retribution, he will!"

 

Thus, Chu Huan led the cloud of darkness that was Yuan Ping and arrived at the forefront of the mountain gate. Rug was already waiting there, alongside the goat-faced elder.

 

As Chu Huan was about to approach, he suddenly heard a hissing sound above his head. He looked up and almost came face-to-face with a fist-sized snake's head. Despite not fearing snakes, he instinctively took a step back down the stairs. The snake was as thick as an adult's arm, slithering down the mountain rock like a rope, its triangular head repeatedly hissing.

 

Such a large, venomous snake was a rare sight. In the next moment, the big snake shook its head and approached Chu Huan, shamelessly resting its triangular head on his shoulder and nuzzling against him affectionately.

 

Such a shameless venomous snake was even rarer.

 

Chu Huan finally recognized it as the delicate little snake he had praised before.

 

Its growth speed was astonishing. Chu Huan couldn't help but ask, "Did you eat fertilizer while I was away?"

 

The last time they met, the little snake was only as thick as a finger and could quietly crawl into his sleeve, coiling up into a small bundle that could be worn as a bracelet. But now, in the blink of an eye, it had become an uncontrollable behemoth, heading toward colossal proportions!

 

The little snake was unaware of its new size and still tried to coil around Chu Huan's wrist. Sadly, it realized that its colossal body had nowhere to fit, so it settled for wrapping around his waist and meekly resting its head on his shoulder.

 

"It hissed discontentedly, its tail tip swaying agilely by Chu Huan's waist. Repeating like a broken record, Yuan Ping kept quiet upon seeing the snake, carefully distancing himself from Chu Huan.

 

The first checkpoint at the mountain gate was high and perilous, with the mountain wind making people's hair dance in the air. As Chu Huan ascended, the whole mountain range unfolded before his eyes, a natural and excellent vantage point.

 

Rug patted the snake's head and extended his hand, allowing the snake to crawl onto him. Without any pleasantries, he asked Chu Huan, "I heard from Yuan Ping that you plan to go to the Fallen Land."

 

Chu Huan nodded approvingly, "Yes."

 

The goat-faced elder sneered, "I think you're planning to get yourself killed."

 

Chu Huan looked at him with magnanimity, smiling as he swallowed the words "old fool" without uttering them aloud.

 

Rug paused for a moment and earnestly assessed Chu Huan for the first time, asking, "Does Nan Shan know about this?"

 

"No, and I don't intend to let him know."

 

Rug seemed somewhat surprised.

 

He had never had a good impression of outsiders. Although that incident had happened a long time ago, the deep-seated hatred of the outsider brought in by the former mountain guardian clan leader still lingered vividly in his heart.

 

But as his gaze swept over Chu Huan's eyes, he couldn't help but wonder, "Perhaps Nan Shan has better judgment than his mother?"

 

Rug pointed to a small stone table and a circle of low stone stools at the first checkpoint and said, "Sit."

 

They all took their seats, while Yuan Ping stood at a distance, his eyes fixed on Rug's snake, his face turning slightly pale.

 

Rug, an enthusiast of reptiles, probably couldn't fathom that there were people in the world afraid of snakes. He obliviously greeted Yuan Ping, "Come over, Yuan Ping. Why stay so far away?"

 

Upon Chu Huan's teasing gaze, Yuan Ping reluctantly glanced at their clan leader and found himself in a corner as far away from Rug as possible, curling up into a ball.

 

The elder sat down with a huff and slowly fished out several peculiar-shaped wooden pieces from his dirty pouch. Each piece was about five centimeters in diameter and adorned with different patterns, possibly some form of writing.

 

Curious, Chu Huan peeked at them but refrained from touching them. He deduced that these were probably divination tools.

 

The elder then bent down and pulled out a huge, tree-root-like object from under the stone table. It was also quite aged, covered with a thick layer of patina. The "tree root" had intricate twists and turns, and the middle was hollow, with several circular openings on top, resembling pipes. Each "pipe opening" was adorned with a small bell.

 

The elder then inserted the wooden pieces one by one into the long tube, assuming a solemn expression.

 

Despite looking frail and emaciated, the elder had considerable strength. He effortlessly raised the "carving" above his head and began chanting while performing an animated dance on the spot.

 

At first, Chu Huan found it comical, but gradually, he felt a mysterious resonance between the walnut hanging on his chest and the elder's dance steps. He couldn't explain it, but he could sense it—the elder's steps were aligning with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

 

Suddenly, the elder yelled, startling Chu Huan out of his trance.

 

With caution, Rug extended his hand to the carved object, and the once dainty little snake that had now grown into a large venomous snake hissed, slowly sliding down Rug's arm and slipping into the narrow opening of the "carving," ringing the bells with a faint "ding dong."

 

What is this custom?

 

Chu Huan had heard of turtle shells and the Six Yao divination technique. He thought to himself, "Does the Liyi tribe use snakes for divination?"

 

Several people's eyes were fixed on the "carved root," listening to the occasional rustling of the snake inside. Only the elder kept his eyes closed, his gaunt face showing a world-weary and resigned expression, silently accepting fate.

 

After a long time, a second bell sound came from the carved root, indicating that one of the hanging bells had been touched. The elder opened his eyes and saw a snake slithering out from one of the openings of the "carved root," holding a piece of wood in its mouth.

 

Rug gently held the snake's head and said, "Xiao Lv, spit it out."

 

However, the elegant snake suddenly skillfully swayed its boneless body, breaking free from Rug's grip and curling up into a ball with its head hidden, refusing to come out.

 

Rug was very surprised, but the elder, with a lingering tone, said, "Whether you look or not, it's the same. The things that are meant to happen are waiting ahead. Can you avoid them by pretending not to know? You ignorant snake!"

 

The small poisonous snake didn't know if it understood, but after hearing the elder's words, it tangled with itself in place for a while. Eventually, it slowly raised its head and swam towards Chu Huan. It opened its mouth and spat out the wooden piece, placing it in front of Chu Huan.

 

Chu Huan took it and opened it, revealing a mysterious symbol carved on the back, resembling ancient Chinese pictographs. He suspected that this might be the true writing of the mountain guardians. He turned to the elder and asked, "What is this?"

 

The elder glanced at it and remained silent, his facial expressions flickering.

 

Rug explained from the side, "It means 'Death Ground.'"

 

With this statement, everyone fell silent.

 

Even Yuan Ping, who had momentarily forgotten his fear of snakes, leaned forward slightly and asked, "Elder, what does 'Death Ground' mean?"

 

The elder's cheek twitched a few times, seemingly unable to comprehend why there could be such an ignorant gatekeeper who couldn't understand such straightforward words. He extended his cane and knocked on Yuan Ping's leg, coldly saying, "What does 'Death Ground' mean? It means a place where there's no burial ground, where people go and never return!"

 

Yuan Ping furrowed his brows and looked at Chu Huan, seemingly hesitant to speak.

 

Chu Huan, on the other hand, held the wooden piece in his hand, playing with it for a moment, and smiled nonchalantly, "Makes sense. Isn't a fallen place a burial ground? Can I keep this token?"

 

The elder's expression turned serious. "Knowing the outcome, are you still going?"

 

Chu Huan smiled and said nothing, his intention clear.

 

Here, the elder and the gatekeeper chief, Rug, didn't try to dissuade Chu Huan. The only one who could speak a few words was Yuan Ping. However, having fought with Chu Huan for so many years, he understood him too well. Seeing Chu Huan's smile, Yuan Ping knew that anything he said would be a waste of breath.

 

In the end, Yuan Ping didn't waste his breath. He simply leaned back heavily, thinking to himself, "This kid is stubborn to the core."

 

It seems that Chu Huan and the tribe's gatekeeper chief are truly a perfect match. Yuan Ping suddenly felt a bit emotional, never expecting Chu Huan to be so resolute.

 

The elder contemplated for a moment: "Even if you want to go, you won't be able to avoid the attention of the Southern Mountain."

 

Regarding this, Chu Huan had already thought of a solution. He said, "That's not a problem. Doesn't your mountain gate rotate again? When the time comes, you can delay him for me, and I'll have a chance to stay here."

 

The elder blew his beard and glared, "Idiot!"

 

Rug sighed and explained from the side, "It's not that simple—do you know why it's called the Sacred Mountain and why the mountain gate automatically rotates twice a year?"

 

This question had long been pondered by Chu Huan.

 

The living conditions here were extremely harsh, and with the temper of the Southern Mountains, it was impossible for them to willingly leave the gatekeepers here every year at fixed times while they themselves enjoyed a comfortable life on the other side.

 

So, it means that for the mountain guardians, there must be some irresistible constraints when it comes to the mountain gate. It's similar to how the guardians cannot venture too far from their settlement after crossing the river. This unknown factor will restrict their ability to pass through the mountain gate when the time comes.

 

"Because of the 'Qi of Life'," the elder said, "when the mountain gate rotates, our tribe must follow and return to the other end of the mountain gate, where the river connects to the outside world. Only by rotating twice a year can the mountain guardians transfer the 'Qi of Life' to this side. That's why only the bloodline of the mountain guardians can communicate with the Sacred Spring. We, the mountain guardians ourselves, are the bridge between life and death. Therefore, when the mountain gate rotates, no matter where we are, we will be sent back."

 

If we liken the fallen place to a polluted water area, then there is a passage on this mountain that leads to other worlds, and fresh spring water continuously flows in.

 

Chu Huan didn't understand and asked, "But what does that have to do with me?"

 

The elder's eagle-like, withered hand gripped Chu Huan's shoulder, and his sharp eyes locked onto him, saying, "Kid, up until now, you haven't shown any signs of 'freezing.' Do you really believe that you are only affected because you were bitten by Mutayi and drank two sips of blood? If I guess correctly, you must have the blood of the mountain guardians in you, no matter in what form."

 

With this said, Chu Huan remained silent, but Yuan Ping exclaimed first, "That's even less possible! I've watched him grow up, and his identity card even states his ethnicity as 'Han'."

 

After blurting out his words, Yuan Ping realized that Chu Huan seemed contemplative and had not responded.

 

Yuan Ping was taken aback, looking at this person, then at that person, somewhat uncertainly asking, "It… It can't be true, right?"

 

"I really don't know," Chu Huan explained in a low voice. "Actually, I am not Chu Aiguo's biological child."

 

"But the blood of the mountain guardians is either very scarce in you or there was some other mishap," the elder said, scrutinizing Chu Huan critically.

 

Chu Huan's physical condition was far inferior to that of the mountain guardians, not only in terms of wound healing speed but also clearly visible to the naked eye. Although he considered himself to have a decent physique, he was far from as robust and vibrant as the mountain guardians.

 

The most important thing was that his connection to the mountain gate on the other side didn't seem to be restricted by any boundaries.

 

The elder continued, "When the time comes, do you know if the mountain gate will forcibly send you away?"

 

Chu Huan hesitated and didn't answer.

 

The elder thought for a moment and added, "Moreover, if you want to go to the fallen place, I plan to take charge and give you a blood exchange. After all, the Southern Mountains have always favored you, and they definitely won't object."

 

After saying this, he looked at Rug and said, "Chief Rug, do you have any objections?"

 

Of course, Rug had no objections. The three of them, with six eyes in total, looked at Chu Huan.

 

Just as Chu Huan was about to speak, suddenly, an irrational thought crossed his mind—no.

 

Why not?

 

Chu Huan paused. In both emotions and reason, he couldn't think of any reason to refuse. Therefore, he could only conclude that this was definitely not his own idea.

 

Chu Huan didn't answer; he lowered his head and grasped the small walnut hanging on his chest. Unsure if it was his imagination, he felt the walnut grow slightly warm.

 

Chu Huan said, "No…"

 

The elder was taken aback, not expecting Chu Huan, who appeared so normal, to have a flaw in his thinking!

 

Even Rug raised an eyebrow in surprise.

 

Chu Huan took the walnut off and threw it to the elder, saying, "I didn't mean that. Sigh, how can I put it? Your sacred item is what made me refuse—Elder, what exactly is this thing you gave me?"