Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Just moments ago, the ring finger and the bell sound were trembling madly, but then, in an instant, the world seemed to reboot into endless silence.

The noise was terrifyingly loud, and the silence was terrifyingly quiet.

The first thing Xie Zhigui saw was the ring on the young man's ring finger; it appeared to be made of silver with sinister patterns engraved on it, which he always felt would emit a faint green glow in a dim room, making its owner's fingers appear even more pale and slender.

Slender to the point of seeming non-human, with only a short section of the arm revealed before being enveloped by the wide sleeve. The unique attire with a base color of red and black was embroidered with patterns that he could not decipher, like bitter curses or like deadly shackles, very eerie and abnormal.

Yet, the person was undoubtedly handsome, with a pale neck, a sharp jawline, a proud nose bridge, and black hair parted to each side, each section picked up at the temple and secured at the back of the head with intricate silver ornaments that chimed crisply when a breeze blew.

It was like the bell sound from last night, yet also not quite the same.

Xie Zhigui surmised that the individual had the appearance of a youth and probably wasn’t of considerable age, yet the dark, profound eyes gave him pause; they seemed to harbor an abyssal depth, void of light, not befitting of an innocent, unworldly youth.

Moreover, this person was excessively pale, making his red lips seem stained with a layer of fresh blood. His beauty was almost otherworldly, not resembling a flesh-and-blood living being, which reminded Xie Zhigui of the soul-snatching, flesh-devouring specters from ghost stories he had heard as a child.

It was as if he too had been ensnared, especially when caught in the gaze of those narrow eyes.

Beautiful, sickly, dangerous — he knew he shouldn't touch, yet his heart couldn't help but tremble uncontrollably.

Like a toxic butterfly beguiling the fickle-hearted, entwining fiercely until both plummet into the flames to burn together to death.

Xie Zhigui heard another clear bell sound, pulling him from his chaotic thoughts, crashing directly into the youth's straightforward and indifferent gaze.

Fortunately, he wasn't one to covet beauty; while he could appreciate it and sometimes be captivated, he was also quick to extricate himself and return to reason.

He averted his gaze and asked the elder, "Is he the 'hidden one' you spoke of?"

The elder turned deathly pale, his lips trembling as he said, "Yes, it's him."

"Why has he returned ahead of time?!"

Xie Zhigui noticed the fear and reverence in the elder's words and the villagers' sudden eerie silence and respectful bowing of heads upon the youth's arrival.

This person, he surmised, was probably not someone to be trifled with.

Xie Zhigui adopted a friendly and gentle smile, picked up his bag from the ground, and, pulling the reluctant elder along, stepped forward.

He too was not without trepidation, as this young chieftain did not seem easy to converse with, and it was uncertain whether an agreement could be reached.

Xie Zhigui stopped about five paces away from the figure, a distance that allowed him to hear clearly but also sufficient to escape in case of a conflict.

"Please help me translate later," he requested of the elder, who had turned pallid, but the elder seemed to be in great shock, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

Xie Zhigui, helpless, said, "You?"

It was at that moment the young man moved his lips, saying, "I can speak Mandarin."

Xie Zhigui was startled and found himself looking into the unfathomable depths of the other's eyes again, the calm and pleasant voice in stark contrast to his otherworldly appearance.

He quickly composed himself and said, "Hello, my name is Xie Zhigui. May I have the honor of knowing your esteemed name?"

"Ming Feiyu."

Ming Feiyu… Xie Zhigui silently repeated in his mind.

“Xie Zhigui?” Ming Feiyu suddenly called out his name.

Xie Zhigui looked up instinctively: “Yes?”

For some reason, Xie Zhigui thought he saw Ming Feiyu smile, a faint one, as if pleased with his response.

His smile made him seem even more like a demon bewitching hearts.

In that moment of distraction, Xie Zhigui caught a whiff of a sweet, peculiar fragrance, seemingly emanating from Ming Feiyu, stirring something strange within him, drawing him involuntarily closer.

How odd, he’d never felt such a pull to draw near a stranger.

But Xie Zhigui’s indifferent nature came to his rescue, preventing him from being swayed by beauty, steadying his heart before proceeding to the matter at hand.

“I apologize, we did not intend to cause any conflict with the villagers. We are merely students, wishing to complete our academic assignments here. We mean no harm.”

Ming Feiyu looked him over, then with a smile that was not quite a smile, remarked, “You are a student?”

“?” Xie Zhigui sensed an undercurrent to his words, “Doesn’t it seem so?”

“As you say.”

Ming Feiyu’s dismissive three words held a different weight, making Xie Zhigui feel as though he was being comforted like a nervous little lover shaken by alarm.

Before he could ponder further, Ming Feiyu continued, “You may stay, but you must abide by the rules.”

Xie Zhigui was overjoyed: “Thank you!”

Ming Feiyu smiled with him, the tranquil depths of his eyes rippling slightly, reflecting Xie Zhigui’s visage alone.

“Oh, right, there’s also this.”

Xie Zhigui handed over his bag to Ming Feiyu, “We will not freeload; this money is for compensation. It’s not much, but if it’s insufficient, we can provide more later. Is that acceptable?”

“It is acceptable.”

Ming Feiyu agreed without hesitation, not even glancing at the bag, his gaze fixed solely on Xie Zhigui, making him feel quite uncomfortable.

Who would stare so intently at someone they've just met? Even though Xie Zhigui had grown accustomed to covetous gazes all his life, he still felt violated, but it was not his place to make a scene.

Just when Xie Zhigui was reaching his limit of tolerance, Ming Feiyu finally decided to let him be, walking past him to look at his nervous companions behind.

“They are…”

“My classmates.”

“Just classmates?”

“Yes.”

Ming Feiyu's gaze lingered momentarily on the unconscious Zheng Hao, then he said in a grave tone, “Since you have come to my place, you’ll abide by my rules.”

Xie Zhigui acknowledged with a “Hmm” and then asked, “If we encounter difficulties, may we seek your help?”

“You may seek me out, but for every request, there is a price. That's the rule here, do you understand?”

Xie Zhigui nodded and said, “I understand.”

Ming Feiyu smiled enigmatically, giving him a profound look before turning away. In that instant, his pupils seemed to split open, a flash of red, and a hint of a sneer curled at his lips.

Xie, Zhigui… So you have come back after all.

He shouldn’t have let him off so easily, should have at least made him squirm a bit, taste some hardship.

But when Xie Zhigui approached with a smile, his appearance so bright and vibrant, his bashfulness over a straightforward gaze so endearing, it was irresistible not to want to tease him.

Suddenly, Ming Feiyu changed his mind, wanting to pause and watch him for a little longer.

Let's wait a bit longer, after all, there's plenty of time ahead, and there are many ways to deal with a traitor. Let him be at ease for a few more days.

Ming Feiyu and the villagers were discussing something behind their backs.

Fragments of broken, indistinct conversation reached Xie Zhigui; he couldn’t understand them, but the old man beside him gave him a meaningful look.

“Tsk, you, young lad.”

Xie Zhigui, clueless, asked, “What about me?”

The old man sighed and shook his head, "Fend for yourself."

Xie Zhigui was utterly confused by his words. The crisis had been resolved, and he hadn't provoked or offended anyone. Why was he being told to fend for himself?

The old man left after only offering that ambiguous piece of advice, saying he would return for them in a week. In the meantime, they were to live with the villagers.

His companions felt varying degrees of fear and unease. After all, they had just had a conflict that nearly cost them their lives.

They had convinced themselves that the villagers were nothing but barbaric, ignorant, and superstitious mountain folk who could not be trusted.

The group huddled together to discuss their next steps.

"What do we do now? Should we just head back home?"

"No way! We paid good money to get here. How can we go back without obtaining the item? That would be a total loss!"

"But as they say, 'A harsh land breeds tricky people.' Just look at their uncultured demeanor. Who knows how they might torture us if we fall into their hands!"

Xie Zhigui scolded with a cold gaze, "Shut up! They understand Mandarin. Do you want to cause more trouble?"

The companion who had spoken reluctantly closed his mouth.

Xie Zhigui anxiously glanced over at Ming Fei Yu's direction, hoping they hadn't heard the conversation. He breathed a sigh of relief, turned back, and analyzed, "As long as money is useful to them, there's no need to fear. They won’t harm us if they want money – a living person is worth more than a dead one."

The companions looked at each other, thought it over, and indeed found the reasoning solid. Their lives weren't in immediate danger, and their anxiety eased slightly.

Someone asked, "So, what do we do next?"

No one spoke.

Xie Zhigui was also troubled by this mess: "We'll have to take it one step at a time."

As evening fell, they followed the villagers to a temporary dwelling to rest.

When it was Xie Zhigui’s turn, a villager, with broken Mandarin and gesturing hands, informed him that there were no more vacant houses nearby, but there was still some space available at the other end of the village.

Xie Zhigui hesitated, not wishing to be separated from his companions in an unfamiliar place, yet not wanting to cause more trouble. In the end, he had no choice but to follow the villager to the vacant house.

The villagers showed little warmth towards him, leaving without a word after dropping him off.

Before entering, Xie Zhigui surveyed the surrounding area and found it to be a remote corner of the village, a full kilometer away from the nearest villager's home. Nearby stood only two wooden buildings, huddled together like lovers seeking warmth.

Fortunately, this place boasted tranquility, with a clean and orderly interior, equipped with everything he needed. Being a bit far from the others didn't bother him.

After settling in and having some compressed biscuits, it was already late. The lack of electric lights made candles seem dim and straining to the eyes.

Therefore, Xie Zhigui fetched a small desk lamp from his backpack, placed it on the dresser, took off his shoes and socks, and sat cross-legged on the bed. By the faint light, he pulled out a notebook and pen to record the vexing day and to plan his next moves.

The soft sound of writing filled the room, and soon the night deepened, silent and profound.

He was writing intently when suddenly he stood up straight, took the lamp, and paced barefoot on the wooden floor, restlessly searching for something.

That peculiar scent was back.

Upon entering the room, he had detected a faint, elusive fragrance, light as a cloud on his nose—familiar, yet indescribable.

It wasn't until he felt increasingly unwell while writing—his head heavy as if feverish—that he touched his forehead and recoiled at the scalding heat, and it dawned on him what the scent was.

It was the same scent of the green smoke the old man had lit at the boundary marker, the same scent that clung to Ming Fei Yu.

But there were no incense sticks burning in the room, and Ming Fei Yu wasn’t present. Where was the scent coming from?!

The eerie sensation was nothing compared to the discomfort racking his body. Xie Zhigui put away his notebook and poured himself a large cup of cold water, gulping it down. The cool liquid should have soothed the heat and thirst, but instead, it seemed to boil as it passed down his scorching throat, and upon reaching his stomach, it ignited a fiery pain!

The discomfort surged like tides, each wave more intense and unbearable than the last.

Xie Zhigui staggered to the window on shaky legs and thrust it open, allowing the cool night air to flow in. He knelt and leaned over the sill, letting the breeze lift the damp hair on his forehead and cool his flushed cheeks, breathing heavily.

This indeed offered temporary relief from the fever, but the dry mouth and weakness in his limbs persisted.

Was it a cold, a fever? But he had been fine during the day.

Meanwhile, the scent had intensified from its initial subtlety to a pervasive explosion, filling the entire room!

It was everywhere, inescapable, rich, and suffocating, wrapping around Xie Zhigui completely, as if countless invisible hands were binding his wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, trying to drag him back into this cloying, breathless space.

Xie Zhigui persevered, taking several deep breaths of fresh air, and looked up at the sky, his blurred eyes focusing after a long while.

Strangely, the moon that should have been clear and bright was instead a rose-red color—like it had been splashed with a bucket of fresh blood, gorgeous yet eerie, beyond the power of words to describe.

He felt he might truly be ill, fevered to the point of delirium, or perhaps there was something amiss with the sickeningly sweet scent, but he lacked the strength for deeper thought, wishing only to lie down and rest.

Maybe a good sleep would make everything better.

He made his way slowly back to the bed, what seemed like just a few steps taking hours to traverse.

His legs were weak, his head in agony.

It wasn't pain, but a heavy, dizzying sensation, swaying between consciousness and a slipping grasp on reality.

When he finally reached the bed, he let go of all his strength, his pretenses, his resistance, and lay down, his chest heaving with his rapid heartbeat, his eyes tightly shut, his hair drenched and sticky, muttering intermittently in the darkness.

If someone had been there in his moment of vulnerability and confusion, whispering sweet, coaxing words in his ear, he might have surrendered without the ability to discern or resist, compliant to their bidding.

Fortunately, that was not the case. He was alone, and Xie Zhigui thought to himself, it was a narrow escape from further trials.

No one witnessed his disgraceful plight, no one to take advantage of his peril.

Thus, he didn't notice that in a corner of the room, a figure in red had been standing silently, their fervent gaze trailing from his curled toes upward along his pale wrists, delicate collarbones, flushed cheeks, damp hair, and finally resting on the fragile, snow-white neck, so delicate it seemed it could break with a bite.

In the quiet darkness, aside from his labored breathing, there was only the sound of repressed, thirsting teeth grinding.