Of Mountains and Rivers 55

Yuan Ping was stunned. After a moment, he snapped back with a strange expression, "Casanova Chu, what's the point of telling me if you're not going to say those words to your main target?"

Leaning against a rock, Chu Huan stretched and swayed, responding, "Don't you think it's hardly significant for someone as serious as me to say such a cheesy line to someone's face? I'm just casually lending you a shoulder to cry on since you seemed more sensitive."

Yuan Ping: "…"

Could he be more ashamed?

"Say hello to your patriarch for me. I'll be staying here for a few days." Chu Huan stood up and waved dismissively at Yuan Ping, unfazed. "Help me keep it a secret and don't tell anyone."

Yuan Ping asked with a vacant expression, "Why should I?"

"Don't be so cold-blooded." Chu Huan glanced at him. "Has our friendship reached the end of its course?"

Yuan Ping's vacant expression mixed with the emotion of beyond belief. "When did we have a friendship? Did the whole world unite or something?"

Hesitating for a moment, Chu Huan played his trump card, "Oh right, I plan to have a nice meal before heading off—after all, the barbeque grill is still here. I also plan to invite a few friends over. But it can be quite troublesome if there are too many people. So if we're not friends, then forget it."

Faced with such a threat and temptation, Yuan Ping felt embarrassed and angry. "What the hell am I to you? Am I a person who can be bought with food?"

Chu Yuan responded with hypocrisy, "Of course not, you're a person of principles."

Yuan Ping's expression wavered before shifting from resentment to reluctance. In the end, just as Chu Huan was about to leave, Yuan Ping couldn't help but stop him. "Hold it!"

Chu Huan let out an intentional cough and pretended to listen attentively.

As if being forced into prostitution, Yuan Ping spoke in a resentful tone, "We've known each other since childhood. I will do as you say."

"Then if someone asks, just tell them I'm not here, my friend." Chu Huan said with a sly smile, jutting his chin and putting more emphasis on his last two words.

Yuan Ping deeply experienced what they called "the helplessness of being coerced by fate." He silently gritted his teeth and remembered that he still had to be on duty to guard the Mountain Gate at night. With that, he picked up his bow and arrows and left, overwhelmed with sorrow and sadness.

On this night, Nanshan came to Chu Huan's residency for a stakeout. However, after waiting for half the night unable to catch anyone, he realized that the cunning Chu Huan had more than one hideout and had escaped yet again.

Nanshan paced around Chu Huan's door, wondering where he could have possibly gone.

Surviving, Chu Huan could make do during bad situations, but he would not settle for less even when the situation was less dire. Nanshan figured he would not have simply spent the night in a cave in the woods.

Those who interacted with him more frequently were either married or had an elderly mother at home, making those places inconvenient. Chu Huan, a single man, would not disturb their households.

As for the Elder, he would most likely tell Chu Huan to sleep in the woodshed.

After considering various factors, Nanshan reluctantly concluded that Chu Huan had most likely gone to the gatekeeper Yuan Ping's place.

Filled with jealousy and burning envy, Nanshan hastily made his way down the mountain, carrying feelings of sorrow and desolation.

In the latter half of the night, Yuan Ping was relieved from duty by a fellow clan member, ready to go back and get some rest. While walking and yawning, he encountered Nanshan's dark expression, as if he was about to catch an adulterer in the act.

Nanshan quickly took a deep breath, trying to maintain the usual attitude expected of a Patriarch.

Nanshan: "Brother Yuan Ping, is Chu Huan here?"

Remembering the forced friendship a few hours ago and the promise he made to "not reveal anything," Yuan Ping hesitated before following his true feelings and answered, "He said he's not here.”

Nanshan: “…”

Nanshan's surprise was evident at such a haphazard response.

In that moment, it seemed like Nanshan caught a signal in Yuan Ping’s words. He paused, questioning cautiously, “You… Last time, you mentioned he’s been visiting the Elder frequently. Can you shed light on what he’s up to?”

Yuan Ping sighed, “I just promised someone to keep it brief, and now you’re asking—Patriarch Nanshan, I suggest you ease up on the questions. You’re putting me in a tight spot. There's a saying across the river: ‘Shameless people are invincible’. You can't outdo him.”

Nanshan fell silent briefly, then remarked, “I don’t aim to compete with him. I simply want to ensure he returns safely to the other side.”

Yuan Ping set his large bow on the ground, as if gearing up for a serious conversation. “Patriarch, I heard you were the one who insisted on a glimmer of hope in the Fallen Land. You relentlessly searched for the person mentioned in the legendary Sacred Text. Now that you've found him, why send him away?”

Nanshan gave a bitter smile, “Back then, the Fallen Land wasn't an imminent threat. I didn't know him, so I didn't dwell on it much. The so-called ‘Sacred Text’ is elusive hope… Besides, even if it's fate, it's our clan's calamity. Why involve an unrelated outsider?”

“That's true,” Yuan Ping deeply nodded in agreement. After a feigned moment of contemplation, he proposed, “How about this, Patriarch? No need to be torn. I have an idea.”

Even though Nanshan knew the gatekeeper "could not speak the truth due to being a scoundrel" and likely had nothing serious in mind, he clung to that sliver of hope and asked, “What is it?”

With a serious expression, Yuan Ping said, “Once we're inside, I'll help you tie him up. Then, you take charge of stripping him and making him your ‘wife’ on the spot.”

Nanshan: “…”

What the hell?!

Why does the other side of the river keep producing this kind of rubbish?

Nanshan found himself surprisingly attentive to Yuan Ping's words. He furrowed his brows, wondering if desperation had led him to seek advice from someone like Yuan Ping.

Silently, he walked past Yuan Ping, heading straight to the resting place for gatekeepers.

“Patriarch,” Yuan Ping's serious tone called out, devoid of jest, “Whether it’s your Elder or our Patriarch Luger, everyone has been keeping something from you. Have you considered why?”

Nanshan halted.

Yuan Ping continued, “I don’t believe in things like the Sacred Text, but in our desperate situation, shouldn't you care more about your clansmen? Everyone looks to Chu Huan for hope, yet you're adamant about sending him away.”

Nanshan remained silent.

Yuan Ping pressed on, “If someone is willing to go to great lengths to protect you, their feelings must run deeper than you realize. Are you resisting for his good or your own selfishness? Can you make him forget you?”

Nanshan looked up at the night sky, painted with a distinct Milky Way. His expression shifted until it settled on a forlorn look. Just when Yuan Ping expected an explanation, Nanshan calmly admitted, “You are right.”

Yuan Ping froze.

Nanshan sighed, leaned against a nearby rock, and continued, “The Sacred Spring must have told you about our clan's previous Patriarch. Many in our clan are closed-minded, stubborn, reckless, and intolerant of betrayal. Love breeds jealousy and fear. The people of the river live freely; they stay together if happy and naturally separate if not. I understand this truth, but I can't act on it.”

Yuan Ping did not expect such transparency. Nanshan and Luger had contrasting reputations—Luger's ruthlessness and unsmiling demeanor inspired fear, while Nanshan, a resolute Patriarch, could be found playing his flute among a group of annoying brats.

Nanshan's admission of jealousy, anxiety, and fear left Yuan Ping speechless.

“I can't do something for him, and I'll always feel helpless about it. My fear grows, and my heart feels pricked by needles,” Nanshan confessed. “He’s stuck here because of me…”

Nanshan trailed off, exhaling slowly. He pinched his trembling fingers, joints cracking, then closed his eyes as if enduring torment. After a while, he forced a bitter smile and said, “I shouldn’t have blindly believed in the Sacred Text back then, and I shouldn’t have brought him back. Isn’t that right?”

Yuan Ping softly replied, “Patriarch, if you’re in a dilemma, let Chu Huan decide for himself. What do you think?”

Nanshan neither nodded nor shook his head. After a few moments of silence, he stood up and walked back, saying, “Forget it. He must be asleep already. No need to disturb him.”

“Hey, Patriarch Nanshan,” Yuan Ping called out.

Nanshan responded, “Hmm?”

“Actually… Well, I shouldn’t be saying this.” Yuan Ping scratched his head and continued, “But… never mind. He's planning on leaving in the next few days.”

Nanshan was stunned.

“Leave?” His heart raced. “To where?”

Yuan Ping hesitated, glancing at him. He whispered, “The Fallen Land.”

A "crack" echoed in Nanshan's head as his mind snapped. He left Yuan Ping behind, rushing in.

His rationality and melancholy vanished, leaving only impending terror. Nanshan, filled with dread, was on the verge of grabbing Chu Huan to spare him from the trouble of going to great lengths to commit suicide.

Yet, after turning the gatekeepers’ quarters upside down, he found no trace of Chu Huan.

When he confronted Yuan Ping again, rage consumed him.

Yuan Ping felt uneasy seeing Nanshan furious. This Patriarch of the Mountain Keepers, known for his gentleness, had lost control.

Yuan Ping questioned if he had said too much.

Nanshan, struggling to speak, finally uttered, “He’s not here.”

“Not here?” Yuan Ping paused. “Uh… M-maybe he anticipated that I would betray him. Ah, this isn’t surprising, really. Didn’t I tell you that Chu Huan is a cunning person—How about this, Patriarch, you can rest here for the night, and then tomorrow…”

Nanshan bit his tongue hard. Suppressing the bitterness in his chest with blood seeping from his mouth, he said with a dry voice, “I cannot close my eyes.”

“Don’t worry. He’s still making preparations before he leaves, and that will take him a day or two. He won’t act rashly and leave tonight.” Yuan Ping cautiously patted Nanshan’s shoulders and continued, “Let’s wait until tomorrow morning. You have to trust me this time, Patriarch. I guarantee that he will come out on his own tomorrow morning. If he doesn’t come back immediately and show off his power, then his surname will not be Chu!”

At that moment, Chu Huan was actually near the Mountain Gate. Given Yuan Ping’s history of “double-dealing” and betraying him without moral qualms, Chu Huan never truly trusted him. Finding a spot near the Sacred Spring with a comfortable temperature, he listened to the soothing sound of water. With the snake as his pillow, he slept there for the night.

Chu Huan had a long dream, meeting a middle-aged Mountain Keeper he didn't recognize. Covered in dust, the man approached and whispered something, lips moving but words drowned in white noise. The man tapped Chu Huan's forehead, lips, and chest with his finger, repeating the Liyi Clan word, “Kindling.”

Kindling?

Chu Huan, struggling to decipher the lip-reading, suddenly felt a pain at the back of his head. His vision went black, and when he opened his eyes, his ‘pillow’ had escaped.

The venomous snake, Little Green, served as a biological alarm clock, tossing Chu Huan’s head to the side at the designated time. Chu Huan rubbed his eyes, realizing his ‘pillow’ had escaped.

In the morning drowsiness, a whimsical thought filled his head, “If I take a sip, will I grow a few centimeters taller?”

However, he restrained his curiosity. While the snake drank, Chu Huan tidied up, intending to wake his gold medal sparring partner. He extended his arm for the little snake to crawl up.

To his surprise, before he could search for him, Yuan Ping was squatting at the mountain gate's entrance, waiting.

Yuan Ping, displeased, eyed the “genuine leather python robe” and asked, “Where did you go last night?”

Chu Huan smiled with satisfaction—Yuan Ping wouldn't inquire without reason. Someone else must be looking for him. Yuan Ping's question confirmed the attempted betrayal but not its success.

Yuan Ping stood up in anger, pointing at him, gritting his teeth, “You, have that fat earthworm move away for a bit. We’re going for practice.”

Little Green seemed to understand, sliding down from Chu Huan toward Yuan Ping. Yuan Ping, initially composed, screamed when the snake approached, lunging at Chu Huan. In their usual chase-and-flee fashion, both disappeared into the mountain forest.

The venomous snake lifted its head in surprise, puzzled by Yuan Ping's agitation. Dismissing the strange gatekeeper, it continued swaying forward, circling a stone pillar. Affectionately, it rubbed against the leg of a person hiding there, who slowly bent down to pat its head.

Chu Huan sensed Yuan Ping's unusual motivation that day. Yuan Ping came dangerously close to catching him several times.

What has gotten into him?

Chu Huan held up a bow with an arrow missing its tip, the bowstring drawn taut.

When the tree branch moved slightly, Chu Huan determined Yuan Ping’s position. Smirking, he discreetly aimed at Yuan Ping.

Chu Huan had planned to swiftly “defeat” Yuan Ping to shorten the morning’s training session. He intended to seek out Elder and inquire about the middle-aged man in his dreams, wondering if there was any significance to it.

Focused on the bowstring and the arrow's tip, he drew his breath to the minimum. A sudden noise from a nearby branch caused Chu Huan to loosen his grip on the bowstring. Yuan Ping cried out in pain ahead, but Chu Huan turned his head cautiously.

In that split second, he received an unexpected blow to the neck.

The angle and force of the strike were impeccable. Before losing consciousness, a thought flashed through Chu Huan’s mind, “This is premeditated. That guy surnamed Yuan set me up!”

The bow fell to the ground, and his body collapsed. Yet, his fall was caught by a pair of steady hands.

Yuan Ping held an arrow without a tip, hopping down from the thicket, “Tch… treacherous scoundrel, you hit so hard—So, did it work?”

Nanshan held an unconscious Chu Huan in his arms as he descended from the tree. He nodded at Yuan Ping, saying, “Thank you.”

Yuan Ping glanced at Chu Huan.

The smiling curl on Chu Huan’s lips had not completely faded.

Yuan Ping recalled the first time he saw Chu Huan after emerging from the Sacred Spring. Chu Huan looked like a lost soul in a trance. Now, this lost soul had become full of vitality, almost like a different person.

“Well, no need to thank me. Actually, he really does like you.” Yuan Ping scratched his messy hair, struggling to find the right words. After a long time, he awkwardly added, “It’s true.”

Nanshan forced a smile, adjusting Chu Huan’s posture. Cradling him as if holding a precious treasure, Nanshan carried Chu Huan back up the mountains.

When Chu Huan woke up again, he realized he was inside a room.

The room was clean and orderly, a familiar Patriarch staff hanging on the wall. It was Nanshan's residence, a place he'd visit for drinks, often returning home drunk. However, he had never stayed overnight.

This was the Patriarch of Mountain Gate's residence.

Chu Huan tried to move but heard the sound of a “clink clank.” His limbs were tied to the bedposts with large iron chains.

Just the day before, he became friends with Yuan Ping, and the next day, this treacherous person betrayed him.

Feeling helpless, Chu Huan consoled himself with a wry smile, “Being chained to the bed by my lover, well, this is probably a kind of winning in life, right?”

The door opened, and Nanshan entered, holding a bowl of water, “You’ve woken up already?”