Of Mountains and Rivers 59

As Nanshan knelt down, Chu Huan had a sense of what was coming. However, when Nanshan looked up and spoke the words, Chu Huan's mind still resonated with a resounding "buzz."

He had once thought "heart in full bloom" was an artistic expression for exuberant beauty. Now, he realized it described the desperate need for a heart-reviving remedy.

Chu Huan's throat twitched, swaying in place, at a loss for words. He chose silence, bending over, cupping Nanshan's face, and giving him a not-so-cool and not-so-technical kiss. The decision to cast aside the world, be it the crumbling cliff or the trendy post-apocalyptic era, came to him the moment he thought of Nanshan belonging to him.

A rush of warmth surged from Chu Huan's chest, making his eyes feel warm. He felt self-conscious, as if he hadn't dated in lifetimes. Blinking rapidly, he tried to restore his suave image. Wearing an unnatural smile, he said, “Why didn’t you give me a heads up and just stole my lines?”

Nanshan turned around, leading Chu Huan into a small cave.

The "Civil Affairs Office" for the Mountain Keeper had rudimentary facilities, devoid of live staff or even a clay deity statue. In the center stood an imposing white stone, seemingly the embodiment of the mountain.

“Place your hands on it,” Nanshan instructed.

The white stone, smooth as polished white jade, emanated warmth as Chu Huan touched it. Before he could express surprise, Nanshan embraced him from behind, his hand covering Chu Huan’s on the stone.

As Nanshan's palm touched Chu Huan’s, a pulsating sensation, like a heartbeat, surged from the heart of the stone. Nanshan, with closed eyes, recited a ritual-like prayer.

Afterward, he turned, gently nibbling Chu Huan’s neck, leaving faint bite marks. Nanshan, somewhat embarrassed, smiled unabashedly.

Curious, Chu Huan asked, “What did you say to it?”

Nanshan shook his head, maintaining a silly smile, offering no answer.

Chu Huan continued, “Is this ritual considered complete?”

Nanshan, reluctant to break eye contact with the bite marks, replied, “Is there something else?”

Chu Huan suggested, “The bridal chamber.”

Nanshan asked, “What is a bridal chamber?”

Chu Huan stood with hands in his pockets, signaling he wasn't seeking physical intimacy, avoiding being seen as too forward. However, his eyes betrayed a mischievous intent, provocatively lingering on areas best left unobserved. A mischievous grin surfaced as he unabashedly scanned Nanshan’s body.

Nanshan felt Chu Huan’s gaze render his limbs superfluous, uncertain where to place them. He blushed intensely, embarrassment overtaking him.

While Chu Huan occasionally entertained risqué daydreams about Nanshan, he had never contemplated intimate interactions with a man. Yet, Nanshan's natural purity drew him in, and despite the impending journey, Chu Huan couldn’t resist playful banter.

They say there’s a study correlating a person’s happiness index with how much they talk—this might be the happiest period in Chu Huan’s life. Consequently, his mouth became increasingly vulgar with each passing day.

Nanshan’s shy demeanor captivated Chu Huan, who suggested, “We might not have time for a bridal chamber today. Perhaps we should have a drink… uh?”

Unexpectedly, as Chu Huan descended the metaphorical staircase, Nanshan removed the ladder, leaving him flabbergasted.

Chu Huan, having spoken half his sentence, found himself pressed against a rock by Nanshan’s force. Nanshan lowered his head, biting at the spot on Chu Huan’s neck where he'd left a mark. His breath sprayed across Chu Huan’s skin in quick bursts. Nanshan’s hand gripped Chu Huan’s waist, quickly undoing his shirt buttons.

Left in silence, Chu Huan was taken aback by the sudden turn of events. As a mature individual, he was genuinely startled.

Nanshan, like a territorial beast, marked his territory with raw, primal aggression. Firmly grasping Chu Huan’s wrist, he pulled him into his arms, lifting him off the ground so Chu Huan dangled, supported only by Nanshan’s arm.

Instinctively, Chu Huan reached behind, grabbing a massive stone, using strength to hoist himself up. Leaning slightly backward, he maneuvered out of Nanshan’s embrace. It happened without conscious thought, leaving Chu Huan wide-eyed, unable to utter a word, wondering, “What on earth is happening?”

Nanshan hesitated, his gaze flickering to Chu Huan’s chest, gently tugging at his shirt collar.

Taking a deep breath and lowering his head, Nanshan stammered, “I… I’m just so happy and a bit excited, but we have to head into that dangerous place tomorrow… I haven’t thought about anything, really.”

After speaking, Nanshan quickly glanced at Chu Huan and added, “You don’t have to worry.”

Despite brazen sensuality in his eyes, they remained clear. Chu Huan felt that any response might appear sordid, leaving him at a loss for words.

Nanshan leaned in, tentatively brushing his fingers against Chu Huan’s cheek, exhibiting restraint. He murmured, “I swore an oath in front of the sacred mountain. From now on, you belong to me.”

In resignation, Chu Huan ran his hand through Nanshan’s long hair and then slipped down from the rock. He asked, “Is there any wine?”

“Yes,” Nanshan replied, retrieving a jar of wine and a small bamboo tube. Filling it, he said, “We’re leaving tomorrow, so tonight, it’s just this one tube. No more.”

Seated next to the rocks, with a bamboo tube between them, they took turns sipping. Limited resources meant no toasting. Nanshan shared a glimpse into his past, revealing his fear of the place until he became the Patriarch.

Chu Huan shared his own story of growing up with a single father and his father's later marriage, ending with a smile, “But if we look at it this way, we’re both orphans without family. It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.”

With only one sip left, Nanshan drank it and, after a moment’s thought, shared half with Chu Huan. The Mountain Keeper’s peculiar wine tasted suddenly mellow, leaving a long-lasting aftertaste.

Chu Huan, accustomed to various wines over the years, thought he had tasted nearly everything until this moment. With a single sip of the Mountain Keeper's peculiar wine, he realized what the finest wine truly was, the scent filling his body, intoxicating him.

Inebriated, Chu Huan pulled out a small piece of charcoal and, inside the cave, searched for a flat white stone. As Nanshan reminisced about his childhood, Chu Huan skillfully sketched on the stone slab. Surprisingly, he displayed some sketching skills, drawing a reasonably accurate representation of Nanshan with just a few strokes. Adding a figure of himself, he embellished it with artistic touches and a hint of idealization.

Nanshan, pleasantly surprised, asked, “Is this me?” Chu Huan nodded.

Tenderly touching the stone slab, Nanshan inquired, “Who’s this next to me?”

Hesitant, Chu Huan replied, “… It’s me.”

He then asked, already knowing the answer, “What, doesn’t it look like me?”

Nanshan, unable to tell the difference, sighed inwardly, but wanting to indulge Chu Huan, forced a sincere expression, “… It does.”

Chu Huan contentedly admired his oddly shaped sketch, considering it a permanent record of a wedding portrait. Unfortunately, time doesn’t move at a constant pace, and the night passed in a blink.

Morning woke Chu Huan, realizing he had rested on Nanshan’s arm. Nanshan showed no discomfort, allowing Chu Huan to use his arm as a pillow throughout the night.

Upon returning to the cave where the Gatekeepers were, they found a waiting crowd. Xiao Fang presented the Patriarch’s staff to Nanshan, expressing her desire, “Patriarch, I want to go too.”

Her words spurred numerous young Gatekeepers to step forward, expressing their wish to go as well. Even Da Shan, blindfolded, anxiously spoke out, “Patriarch, I…”

In his urgency, he lost direction and was gently pushed back into the crowd by the Elder using a cane.

Xiao Fang teary-eyed said, “We, the Mountain Keepers, shouldn’t be confined to the mountaintop. Patriarch, didn’t you say that even if it’s a life-and-death situation, we must go out and see the outside world?”

Nanshan was momentarily taken aback, unsure of what to say. However, Chu Huan nonchalantly waved his hand and said, “I’ve never heard of anyone taking their entourage on a honeymoon. Why are you all joining in on the excitement?”

Taking dry rations from Chun Tian’s hand, he continued, “Sis, I’m giving you my barbeque grill. When I return, don’t forget to develop some new sauces—and make sure Yuan Pig doesn’t get his hands on it.”

Yuan Ping chimed in from behind, “Do you really think I’d want it? The Elder has something to discuss with you.”

Chu Huan turned around to see Yuan Ping prepared for a journey with bow and arrows, a large knife, and a bag on his back. The Gatekeepers gathered around, and Luger, one eye bandaged, carrying a venomous snake on his shoulder, cast a glance at Chu Huan. His imposing presence silenced the entire crowd.

“I’m going with you,” Luger made a decisive decision. “There’s no use for the others to go. They should all stay behind.”

His words extinguished all arguments, leaving the Gatekeepers and Mountain Keepers exchanging glances in silence.

Chu Huan followed the Elder to a secluded spot, and the Elder finally spoke, “If our ancestors knew that the fate of our people would be decided by an outsider, they would probably be livid. If you regret it now…”

Chu Huan lazily replied, “I’m not doing this for nothing.”

The Elder raised an eyebrow.

Chu Huan continued without reservation, “I’m planning to abduct your Patriarch. If you have free time one of these days, you might want to train a replacement.”

The Elder’s eye twitched, showing signs of impending anger. Chu Huan had prepared for a couple of blows, but the Elder remained silent, staring at him through his clouded, old eyes.

Chu Huan involuntarily shifted his neck. The bite marks Nanshan left had faded, but being stared at by the Elder made him uneasy.

“Our previous Patriarch had the right timing but the wrong person,” The Elder said. “This current Patriarch has a bit more luck in that regard, but you’ve arrived at the wrong time.”

Chu Huan responded, “I don’t feel like I’ve arrived at the wrong time.”

He considered this the best time of his life, even if it ended in a fortunate way.

The Elder seemed to discern something from the signs of love in Chu Huan’s eyes. His stern goat-like visage turned serious, and he shook his head, saying in a deep voice, “That brings me to the next thing I wanted to discuss with you. If you consider this the happiest time of your life, I strongly advise you not to venture into the Fallen Land.”

Chu Huan was momentarily perplexed.

The Elder continued, “In your land, there’s a saying, ‘Extreme prosperity forebodes the beginning of decline’. Nobody knows what it’s like to fall into it, where it devours people, or why no one has escaped for so long. However, my people have been here for many years, and I have a faint speculation.”

Chu Huan asked, “What is it?”

The Elder replied, “There are too many powerful individuals here, and they typically do not get trapped in their low points, do you understand?”

Chu Huan was taken aback.

The Elder looked at him, raised his cane high, standing amidst the windless and rainless mountain, tapping the tip of the cane gently on Chu Huan’s forehead, as though imparting some form of blessing.

“Go,” he said.

“Wait, I still have a question.” Chu Huan suddenly remembered, “Elder, there’s a man, presumably one of your Mountain Keepers, a tall man who looks to be in his forties, with slightly deformed fingers…”

The Elder abruptly opened his eyes, grabbed Chu Huan’s shoulder, and asked, “Where did you see him?”

“In my dream,” Chu Huan said, “Who is he?”

The Elder fell silent for a moment, tapping his cane gently on the ground. His raised eyebrows revealed a kind of sigh, as if reminiscing about his later years. After a while, he said, “That would be… my father.”

“His name was Ji Chigu, meaning ‘Long Thorn”. He was one of the foremost warriors of our generation in the clan. Once, during an encounter with the Eye-Feasting Beast in the wilderness, his companion died in that battle, and from then on, he became somewhat deranged.”

Chu Huan was puzzled, “Deranged?”

The Elder continued, “He lived alone for several years, and his madness grew progressively worse. One day, the Mountain Gate opened to this world, and he left a note, saying he was going to the Fallen Land. Since then, no one has ever seen him again.”

Chu Huan pressed, “No word of him at all?”

The Elder furrowed his brow, carefully recollecting for a moment, then shook his head, “None—oh wait, when I was a child, I used to play in his yard. When he was in the depths of his madness, he said a few things to me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘The Fallen Land is a consciousness that prevents you from thinking about anything.”

Chu Huan furrowed his brow and pondered the enigmatic statement in his mind for a long while. He hesitantly asked, “What does that mean?”

The Elder replied, “Who knows what a madman’s words mean?”

At this moment, it seemed that the Mountain Keepers and Gatekeepers had finished their negotiations, as if they were about to set off. Xiao Fang suddenly collapsed to her knees, hugging Nanshan’s leg, and sobbed uncontrollably. Luger, on the other hand, had an impassive look like a water ghost, devoid of emotions as he stood aside. Yuan Ping, who was next to him, waved at Chu Huan from a distance, indicating, “Are you done? You better hurry.”

Unable to glean any more information from the Elder, and burdened by the cryptic words, Chu Huan walked towards them with a heavy heart.

In the end, four people—Nanshan, Chu Huan, Luger, and Yuan Ping—embarked on the path that would lead them to an unknown perilous destination.

Yuan Ping looked at the tightly shut Mountain Gate and couldn’t help but ask, “How do we proceed?”

Nanshan thought for a moment and said, “Let’s go up the mountain. Climb above the gate, find a rope…”

As his words trailed off, a familiar tremor and a rumbling sound filled the air, startling everyone. The closed Mountain Gate, as if it had heard his words, suddenly swung open on its own. On the other side of the gate, scenes of death and destruction had vanished, replaced by an eerie, hazy expanse, as if it were a portal to another world.

Nanshan ignited the Patriarch’s staff, casting a cold, flickering light. He held it high, leading the way as if walking through the night with a candle.

Behind them, there were soft, rustling footsteps. Chu Huan turned around and saw members of both clans, men and women of all ages, standing behind them. Each one held a lit bone, silently watching them depart.

They looked like fireflies scattered across the mountains.

Nanshan said, “Let’s go.”