Of Mountains and Rivers 54

On this day, the conversation between Chu Huan, the elder, and Rug did not bring clarity but further confusion. Especially when Chu Huan mentioned that the "walnut" had consciousness, the elderly and frail elder was visibly startled.

 

The "Sacred Fire," one of the two sacred objects of the mountain guardians, had been passed down through generations, and no one had ever heard of its potential to become a spirit. However, considering its extraordinary identity, it had remained silent all these years, showing no difference from an ordinary walnut except for its inability to burn or ignite. Therefore, it seemed somewhat reasonable that it might possess a hint of self-awareness.

 

The elder oscillated between the conclusions "Chu Huan has a problem" and "Sacred Fire has a problem," ultimately remaining indecisive. He left with a tired look, and Chu Huan hurriedly called after him, "Wait, Elder! Can I ask you about the mountain guardians' script when I have time?"

 

The elder waved his hand from afar, leaving Chu Huan with a silhouette of exhaustion.

 

The topic of blood exchange was temporarily shelved.

 

What exactly was this walnut," and what purpose did it serve?

 

Where was Chu Huan actually found by Chu Aiguo?

 

And how to prevent interference from the Southern Mountain and successfully slip into the fallen place?

 

These became the three insoluble puzzles lingering in Chu Huan's mind. The first one seemed completely unknown, and the informant of the second one had already passed away.

 

As for the third puzzle…

 

If the mountain gate rotated and the entire mountain guardian settlement was sent back to the other world, Chu Huan wouldn't be able to stay behind. As a result, all his previous plans would be nullified, and his actions would likely need to be expedited until this winter.

 

Ideally, Chu Huan didn't want to keep things from the Southern Mountains. When doing something for someone, he always hoped that the other party knew, even if he felt embarrassed to say it at the time. He hoped that afterward, the other person could discover this silent effort through other means or from others.

 

However, with everything becoming so urgent, the Southern Mountain would undoubtedly do everything in its power to obstruct him, leaving Chu Huan with no choice but to hide and conceal for now.

 

He felt as though he was groping for a narrow passage in a foggy world.

 

The future looked dim, but at the moment, the only thing Chu Huan could be relatively certain about was the steady increase in the weight of the elegant snake.

 

The small venomous snake had grown into a chubby, big-headed snake, but its intelligence had not kept pace with its body. It had long forgotten any grievances with Chu Huan and now greeted him with affection, sticking to him and acting coquettishly.

 

Every morning before dawn, Chu Huan would be rudely awakened by the increasingly plump snake. Grumbling and half-asleep, he would get up, take a basin of water from the mountain, and splash it on himself to wake up properly.

 

Afterward, he would bring the plump snake "Xiao Lv" to Yuan Ping's place and let Yuan Ping wake up every day under the friendly, crimson snake's gaze.

 

In this way, Chu Huan would achieve his goal of being vigorously chased by an infuriated Yuan Ping for over an hour, engaging in a fruitful morning training session with real knives and guns in the mountains.

 

When Yuan Ping angrily left for the mountain gate, Chu Huan would climb to the top of the mountain guardian settlement and seek out the elder to learn how to write in the mountain guardians' script.

 

The elder's residence was simple, without any teaching equipment. He handed Chu Huan a long, rectangular stone tablet, and Chu Huan could only squat on the ground, half-kneeling, half-sitting, and painstakingly memorizing the mountain guardians' scriptures, transforming from a teacher of volunteer education to a student receiving corporal punishment.

 

The old goat-like elder put aside his dignity as an elder and honestly told him, "The fallen place is a death trap, and the Southern Mountain Chief would never allow you to go. However, we are not dissuading you but instead helping you keep it from him. Do you understand?"

 

Chu Huan replied, "Enough with the nonsense; just teach me."

 

The elder found a nail that was about half a foot long and hammered it into a dozen old sheepskins every day. The number of strikes determined how much Chu Huan had to memorize that day. As he began learning, he realized that the everyday language spoken by the mountain guardians was just the tip of the iceberg. The majority of what the elder taught him were sacrificial and ritual phrases that he had never heard of before. If he made any mistakes while reciting or writing them, the old goat would not hesitate to smack him with a wooden board.

 

Chu Huan, who was no longer a child, couldn't bear such a humiliating teaching method. Just as he was about to throw away the moral code of respecting the elderly and caring for the young to stand up to the elder, the old goat didn't blow his beard or stare at him but casually chewed on some licorice from an unknown source. He cryptically said, "Sigh, outsiders are just outsiders. They talk big about doing things for our clan chief, but it's all just empty words."

 

Chu Huan's anger dissipated instantly, and he had no choice but to sit back down, enduring the humiliation and continuing his studies.

 

Days passed, and Chu Huan became increasingly busy, to the point where he couldn't even show his face. Naturally, the Southern Mountains began to suspect something.

 

Several of the Southern Mountain's members were sent to tail Chu Huan but were easily shaken off.

 

One day, while Chu Huan was studying foreign languages at the elder's house, he coincidentally encountered the Southern Mountain Chief coming to discuss something with the elder. In a hurry, the elder shoved Chu Huan into the woodshed in the backyard.

 

Chu Huan nervously perched amidst dry firewood and straw, listening intently to the sounds from the neighboring room. Afterward, he couldn't help but feel that something was amiss—this was the vibe of being caught red-handed!

 

In the courtyard just a wall away, the Southern Mountain Chief quickly finished discussing official business with the elder and was about to take his leave. However, unable to contain himself, he finally asked, "Elder, has Chu Huan been here recently?"

 

The elder opened his eyes wide and told a blatant lie with an air of righteousness: "Chu Huan here? What's that kid from across the river doing here? Looking for trouble, maybe?"

 

The Southern Mountain Chief pondered for a moment, didn't say anything, nodded, and prepared to leave. However, at that moment, he unintentionally glanced down at the wooden table beside him, and his movements suddenly stalled.

 

On the uneven corners of the table, there were densely packed small holes, some deep and some shallow, clearly the work of nails being hammered into them.

 

The Southern Mountain Chief calmly raised his gaze and glanced at the elder. The old goat hurriedly tightened his face, lowered his eyelids, and began muttering to himself.

 

The Southern Mountain Chief reached out and touched the nail holes, asking, "Has the elder been teaching a child to read lately?"

 

Chu Huan, who was eavesdropping, felt his heart tighten. It turned out that using nails to teach was an old-fashioned, force-fed teaching method! What a foolish old goat!

 

The elder feigned ignorance, saying, "Huh… Ah? Yeah, Flower Bone Blossom, that little girl, comes by occasionally."

 

The Southern Mountain Chief's gaze darkened, and he stared at the elder for several minutes. Having served as the clan chief for so long, he was no longer the young boy who had been guided by the elder hand in hand. His eyes were filled with weight, making the elder almost unable to lift his head. He could only stiffly straighten his slender neck and meet the Southern Mountain Chief's scrutiny.

 

After an agonizing silence, the corners of the Southern Mountain Chief's eyebrows twitched slightly, and his tone was filled with meaning: "Oh, thank you for taking care of her. However, she's still young, so take it slow with the teaching. Don't pressure her too much."

 

The elder remained speechless and could only force a smile.

 

Finally getting rid of the Southern Mountain Chief, the elder probably wanted to relieve some stress, so he burst into the woodshed, wielding a wooden board, and proceeded to give Chu Huan a thorough beating. "Why didn't you think of using a stone to block it? Useless…"

 

Before he could finish his scolding, Chu Huan pressed him down, and the old goat found himself wedged under Chu Huan's armpit.

 

Chu Huan tightly covered the old goat's mouth and pushed him against the wall.

 

Sure enough, after a while, the voice of the Southern Mountain Chief faintly sounded from outside: "Oh, by the way, Elder, I just forgot to mention something."

 

The elder was covered in sweat, and then he felt a light press on his hand. When he turned his head, Chu Huan's figure flipped over the wall like a swallow, disappearing in the blink of an eye. This person was truly adept at evading critical situations.

 

After adjusting his clothes, the elder opened the door for the Southern Mountain Chief, asking patiently, "Is there anything else, Chief?"

 

Without saying a word, the Southern Mountain Chief brushed past him and entered the courtyard. His gaze swept around the elder's territory, not even sparing the cobwebs in the corners. Then he turned his head with a gentle smile and said, "By the way, I heard you talking earlier. Has someone's child secretly sneaked in here, causing trouble?"

 

The elder: "…"

 

Since the people they sent couldn't track Chu Huan, the next day the Southern Mountain Chief decided to take matters into his own hands. He wasn't easy to deal with, so Chu Huan had to engage in guerrilla warfare with him.

 

The Southern Mountain Chief was familiar with the terrain, and Chu Huan's skills in concealment and anti-tracking were professionally trained. Taking into account various factors, they were evenly matched. It was only close to sunset that Chu Huan finally felt he had shaken off the Southern Mountain Chief's watchful eyes.

 

Just as Chu Huan let out a sigh of relief and planned to take a detour back to the elder's place, he realized that he had unintentionally walked into the small grove where he used to take refuge when he first arrived in the Laiyi tribe.

 

Suddenly, he heard a series of "thud" and "thump" sounds, initially rapid and chaotic, as if someone was recklessly striking something. But as time passed, the sounds became more irregular and erratic.

 

Chu Huan paused, hesitating whether to approach or not. He didn't want to disturb whatever was going on. Just as he was about to go back the way he came, he heard a metallic "clang" sound, as if a metal object had fallen to the ground. Soon after, a faint cry came from under the rustling leaves.

 

A child?

 

Considering the late hour, even though the mountain guardians guarded the mountaintop against monsters, there was no guarantee there weren't dangerous creatures lurking around. Chu Huan hesitated for a moment but decided to turn around and enter the dense woods, following the source of the sound.

 

There, he saw a little bald boy.

 

The little boy had an iron rod lying at his feet. The tip of the rod was sharp and shimmered with a cold light. This thing was obviously not a toy suitable for such a small child; it was clearly a weapon intended for an adult man.

 

The little boy's hands were red and swollen, with skin broken from rubbing against the ground. He sat on the ground in a distressed manner, crying a few times, holding back his tears for a moment, and crying again.

 

Beside him, a wooden stake stood upright, filled with marks from the iron rod being struck into it in a haphazard and disordered manner.

 

Despite being a mountain guardian, the little boy was still a child who hadn't even reached the age of four. He lacked strength, and although he held the adult's lethal weapon with all his might, the marks he made on the wooden stake were not as deep as those the elder had hammered with nails.

 

Chu Huan emerged from behind a tree, saying, "Ankala Iye."

 

The little boy stared at him blankly for a moment, then lowered his head and rubbed his eyes with force—just how much time had passed? The little snake had already grown into a big snake, and this crybaby cub had also learned how to pretend nothing had happened.

 

However, his pretense didn't last long. The little boy pretended for a while before becoming even more aggrieved. He finally gave up trying to act strong and climbed up from the ground, throwing himself at Chu Huan.

 

Little boy: "Dad!"

 

Chu Huan caught him and sighed, allowing the little cub to cry his heart out on his shoulder, covering him with tears and snot.

 

The little boy let out his cries, startling the birds in the forest. This commotion finally alerted the Southern Mountain Chief, who had been thrown off Chu Huan's trail.

 

The Southern Mountain Chief saw him from a distance and hesitated in his steps, but instead of approaching, he saw Chu Huan turn his head to look at him. Their eyes met, and the Southern Mountain Chief's heart skipped a beat.

 

Afterward, he saw Chu Huan walk towards him.

 

The little boy didn't know how long he had cried, and he cried himself into exhaustion. Soft and limp, Chu Huan handed him over to the Southern Mountain Chief and walked straight towards him.

 

As they passed by each other, the Southern Mountain Chief suddenly spoke with determination, "Whatever you plan to do, I won't remember it, and I won't be grateful for it either. Don't waste your effort."

 

The Southern Mountain Chief didn't know how much time he had left to live—short, maybe just one day, or long, probably not more than two or three years. Therefore, he used a little trick. From a logical perspective, what he said was entirely correct. After all, what could a dead person remember or be grateful for?

 

Chu Huan's steps paused, and he glanced at the Southern Mountain Chief but didn't respond. He just smiled.

 

It was a smile that carried indulgence, as if he knew everything and had everything planned.

 

This made the Southern Mountain Chief feel uneasy. "Chu Huan!"

 

Chu Huan responded amiably, "Hmm?"

 

"What have you been doing recently? Have you been to the elder's place? What are you planning to do?" The Southern Mountain Chief's tone became stern, pressing him with questions one after another.

 

Chu Huan's gaze shifted, and suddenly he raised two fingers and playfully blew a kiss towards the Southern Mountain Chief. Then he darted into the forest like a ghost. When the Southern Mountain Chief chased after him with the little bald boy in his arms, Chu Huan's figure was already out of reach.

 

Instead of returning to his residence, Chu Huan went down the mountain to the mountain gate. He planned to find an empty room in the gatekeeper's house to stay for the night. He arrived at the dwelling behind the mountain gate and happened to see Yuan Ping painting peculiar symbols on the mountainside.

 

Thanks to the elder's teachings, Chu Huan recognized the marks after a while—it was a calendar.

 

Gatekeepers also had their own year, month, and day. With the elder's explanation, Chu Huan understood that time on either side of the mountain gate was different. From the perspective of the riverbank, it might only have been a season that the mountain guardians spent on the other side. However, for the mountain guardians coming to this side, the time they stayed here was quite long. According to Yuan Ping's calendar, it was at least over three hundred days, close to an entire year.

 

Yuan Ping didn't even lift his head. "What are you doing here?"

 

Chu Huan found a spot to sit beside him, watching Yuan Ping mark the days that had passed on the calendar, and at the end, Yuan Ping used black dye to draw a symbol of "ending."

 

In their language, "ending" and "death" looked quite similar, and beginners had to pay great attention to discern the subtle differences. At first glance, the calendar almost looked like a countdown to death.

 

Suddenly, Chu Huan remembered the countless corpses he had seen when he first arrived here. Now, with so many mountain guardians and their ability to fight alongside them, what would happen when the mountain gate reversed again?

 

The imminent collapse was approaching. All the monsters were attempting to occupy the mountain gate, gaining access to the holy spring and vitality from another world. As carriers bridging the two worlds, when they were forced to leave again, what would the gatekeepers face?

 

Staring at the word "ending" at the end of the calendar, Chu Huan pondered for a while before saying, "I plan to leave in the next two days."

 

Yuan Ping's hand suddenly trembled. "What did you say?"

 

Chu Huan didn't answer directly. Yuan Ping turned his head to look at him. "I thought you would at least go back and get some guns."

 

Chu Huan interrupted him, saying, "I'll have to wait for the mountain gate to reverse again before I can come back. Will you still be alive by then?"

 

Yuan Ping paused and then said, "The gatekeepers can be reborn through the blood of the mountain guardians, so it's like returning to a respawn point."

 

"Death cannot be undone, and those who are reborn may retain some memories through the mountain guardians, but it's not the same." Chu Huan smiled bitterly. "At least your previous tribe leader wasn't as easy to talk to as he is now."

 

Yuan Ping fell silent for a while, then suddenly became serious. "The lives of gatekeepers are not the same as ordinary people's lives. Of course, our deaths can't be seen in the same way that you see death. Chu Huan, from a logical perspective, we are this mountain itself, just taking different forms through your memories. As long as the mountain doesn't die, we are eternal."

 

Chu Huan interjected, "Stop talking nonsense. That's why you told the Southern Mountain Chief about my plan, right?"

 

Yuan Ping remained silent, confirming Chu Huan's assumption.

 

Chu Huan looked down at his hands, which were covered in scars but slender and powerful. His palms were not particularly broad, but when he clenched them, it felt as though he could grasp the fate of everything—stable and reliable.

 

His recovery speed was terrifying. Yuan Ping, who practiced with him every morning, was the first to notice. During the high-intensity training, Chu Huan not only didn't show signs of exhaustion but seemed to have returned to his peak state.

 

"Don't be so impulsive," Chu Huan said. "I've nearly memorized the sheepskin at the elder's place, and as for other matters, that old goat-faced man and your water spirit tribe leader are in the dark as well. I think I've prepared everything I need, and it's almost time for me to leave."

 

Yuan Ping got angry and said, "Didn't you see the elder's divination results? It's a death trap! You're neither a mountain guardian nor a gatekeeper; why are you rushing to die? Did the Southern Mountain Chief send you there? If he didn't break your legs, I'd be surprised! Idiot!"

 

Chu Huan replied, "You don't understand anything."

 

Ignoring Yuan Ping's threatening posture, Chu Huan sat there as if meditating, unmoving.

 

"Somebody who can make you willing to go through anything for them is incredibly lucky," Chu Huan said softly. "It makes you feel alive again."