Chapter 82 [VIP]

The boy in his arms fell into a peaceful sleep. Lu Xuejin held him, gazing at the prince's profile, and couldn't help but lean over and touch the boy's cheek. When he touched the eyelashes, the dense, curly downy hairs cast a small shadow under the eyes.

The child seemed perfectly peaceful while asleep, yet he grew worried. He looked down at the child, fearing a relapse of his nightmares.

They set off for the capital, and it rained continuously along the way. The rainy season suddenly seemed to have become very long. For some unknown reason, the heavens were shrouded in sorrow, and the sky was dark all day long, with dark clouds drifting by.

By evening, they reached the border between Chuzhou and Quzhou, where the Jinwu River flows. The Jinwu River descends from the Kunlun Mountains in the west, flowing eastward through Wuling, Wuzhou, Chuzhou, Quzhou, and finally to Lin'an and Mingzhou. A grove of redwoods grows along its banks, towering high above the surrounding landscape, their reflections creating a blood-red river.

The three children had never seen anything like it before, and they were captivated by the golden crow statue. The three-legged golden crow, its gray shadow hazy among the trees, was shrouded in a dim light. The redwoods, enveloped in this dim light, seemed to have carved a path for the golden crow. The banks were completely silent, save for the rustling of large birds flying by.

“Myth says that this is a river between Yin and Yang, and at night you can always see people crossing it. After people die, they will cross this river to go to the Western Paradise,” said Tengluo.

Lu Xuejin watched from the side. Branches from the bushes had fallen to the ground. The Jinwu River was as tranquil as a beautiful painting. He had passed through this place five years ago when he traveled south, but he hadn't felt anything at the time.

Today, when I see it again, the river remains the same. The late emperor to whom he was to return the decree is dead, and the world is a completely different place.

Murong Yue: "If that's really the case, then let's spend the night here and I'll see if there really are people crossing the river."

As the two of them made their suggestion, Ziyan couldn't help but ask, "Young Master, is this a suitable place to set up camp?"

“Yes,” Lu Xuejin said to Murong Yue, “Your Highness once slaughtered a tiger, so what is there to fear now?”

"I was lucky to escape from the jaws of death. If there were any wild beasts, you would have to protect me, brother." Murong Yue moved closer and stuck to Lu Xuejin's side like a punching bag.

The two stood together, their reflections shimmering on the Jinwu River, merging in the crimson light. Behind them, the redwoods resembled sharp thorns growing from beneath the swaying branches, surrounding them.

He stared at the sharp thorns, always worried they would prick the boy. Could the reflected river, as he imagined, keep the redwood away from the one beside it? The river was a mirror of heaven and earth, reflecting all things according to the law, revealing the fear and dread within.

"Brother Changyou, what are you thinking about?" Murong Yue asked him.

Lu Xuejin: "I came here five years ago. Coming back today, I feel a different sense of déjà vu."

“Last time I came here alone. Being alone is always different from being with others. When you see this river again in the future, you will always remember me,” Murong Yue said, his eyes revealing a subtle meaning as he went to help Ziyan set up her tent.

Now that there was no more government silver, their luggage was light, and the two tents were quickly set up. Murong Yue chopped down four stakes with his axe, and the fallen red pine tree landed next to the Golden Crow statue. The rope was firmly tied to the stakes, and Tengluo went to find some dry grass and spread it on the soft, wet ground.

Tengluo: "Then you will think of me. I always remember the days when I traveled south with you, young master."

"..." Lu Xuejin was somewhat helpless. How could it be a leisurely trip? There were many dangers along the way, yet Tengluo and His Highness seemed completely unaware. He watched as the two little ones huddled together again to look at the mushrooms growing at the base of the tree stump. After glancing at the brightly colored mushrooms, he couldn't help but speak up to remind them.

"Many of the plants in this wetland are unfamiliar to me, so please do not touch them."

As soon as Lu Xuejin finished speaking, Murong Yue had already picked the mushrooms, one for each of them.

The mushroom was orange-red with black spots on it and had long roots. Murong Yue held the mushroom and looked at it from left to right, then said to him, "Brother, come and take a look. Honey is oozing from the cut part of this redwood tree, and its color is somewhat similar to that of the leaves."

Lu Xuejin came up behind the two and saw that a layer of red, sticky substance was flowing from the cut-off tree stump, which looked like blood from a distance.

"Did it shed tears after its head was chopped off? Even plants have feelings," said the wisteria.

Murong Yue laughed, "Then let's just accept it as fate. If it has something on its mind, we shouldn't worry about it. We just happened to be passing by and happened to choose four trees. It was just one of them. What can we do?"

“Wisteria, look at this mushroom we picked. If it had its own thoughts, would it complain about its bad luck? It was pulled up by the roots as soon as it grew, and it couldn’t even live peacefully as a mushroom. Fate is so cruel.”

Murong Yue: "But in our eyes, it's just that we saw it was pretty and picked it. To them, it's like fate."

The boy held the bright red mushroom close to his nose and smelled it, a deep smile in his eyes, a smile that was neither a smile nor a smile. Seeing the vine's confused look, he turned his gaze to the young man beside him.

"If all mushrooms are like this, I would naturally appreciate the mushroom that never complains no matter what situation it is in. Fortune and misfortune are like our moods, sometimes bright and sometimes dark. There are good circumstances and bad circumstances, so we just need to go with the flow."

Lu Xuejin met his gaze. The prince held a brightly colored object in his hand, his handsome, aloof face radiant with a divine aura, as if he had stepped out of a golden crow statue. Though his words were emotionless, they conveyed compassion for all things in heaven and earth. He seemed to see his younger self again, the image overlapping with the boy before him.

Tengluo didn't want to understand these subtle metaphors, so she asked in return, "Is that so? I feel that even if Your Highness were a mushroom, you would be the one who complains the most. You might blame other mushrooms and bully other little mushrooms if things don't go your way. Your Highness is not a harmless type at all."

Hearing this, Lu Xuejin couldn't help but laugh, and Ziyan laughed along with her. Seeing that Murong Yue wasn't very happy and the two children were bickering beside him, Lu Xuejin started a fire in the center of the tent. As soon as the fire started, the surroundings became much brighter, and a warm atmosphere enveloped the entire tent.

Lu Xuejin and Ziyan found some food: buried sweet potatoes, edible mushrooms, two pheasants, and a few fish from the river. They carried some pickling sauce with them. They cleaned the pheasants and fish, wrapped them in airtight oil paper, and then completely covered them with the sauce. They also wrapped the sweet potatoes and mushrooms in the sauce, piled them up in a small kiln, and put them inside to bake.

After burning for about half an hour, Tengluo took out the oil paper wrapped in a damp handkerchief. The fragrance of the oil paper, which had been wrapped in leaves, wafted out. The roasted chicken inside was charred but not burnt, and the aroma of the sauce blended together perfectly. Tengluo's eyes immediately lit up. She skewered the chicken with bamboo sticks and divided some among everyone.

The four of them surrounded the torch. Tengluo took a bite and her expression became lively and cute. "Young master, I am now the happiest person in the world."

Wisteria is easily satisfied; all it needs is delicious food.

Lu Xuejin looked at the young man beside her. The young man's face was very clear in the firelight. His Highness pursued himself and firmly walked on the path he had chosen. Happiness and unhappiness were irrelevant to His Highness.

“Brother Changyou has been lost in thought lately. The Liancheng official silver has been sent over. Is there anything else on your mind?” Murong Yue asked, leaning closer.

Tengluo and Ziyan also looked over. Tengluo ate more slowly, her eyes reflecting his face, filled with serious emotion.

Lu Xuejin: "It just reminded me of things from the past. When Tengluo first came to our house, she ate just as much, and we were always worried that she wouldn't have enough to eat."

“That’s right, I was very happy back then,” Tengluo said. “When I was little, I didn’t have enough to eat, so I naturally craved food when I grew up.”

"Back then, I didn't have any sense of etiquette or propriety. I always ate very quickly. I gradually changed that later. I sometimes think that if I had been born into a wealthy family, would I not have developed these bad habits even if I had fallen on hard times? If you have experienced a life of abundance in your youth, food and clothing will become external things."

“Well,” Murong Yue said, “if one is determined, one might believe that one will return to one’s previous circumstances and then abandon all manners and etiquette. If one is not so determined, one might suffer heart damage and die after experiencing such a fall from grace. This might be what you were referring to as the backbone you praised earlier.”

Tengluo: "Then which one does Your Highness belong to?"

Murong Yue: "Neither of them. In my opinion, there is no such thing as proper or improper. These are tools that others use to discipline people. I don't need to be disciplined, so naturally I don't need to follow or care about them."

Tengluo took another bite of the chicken wing in annoyance and ignored everyone.

Lu Xuejin looked at the people and said, "Your Highness was born into wealth and is not included in this category. Your Highness can make these rules, so naturally you don't need to think about it. In the eyes of many people, there is no such option. So whatever they choose is ultimately not worth discussing."

“I understand. Why not eat meat porridge? I understand everything Brother Changyou said.” Murong Yue blinked, his innocent and carefree expression shining through, and leaned over to press the mushroom on the bamboo skewer against Lu Xuejin’s lips.

Lu Xuejin stared quietly at the boy, who then ate the mushroom. It was the boy who had been teasing him; Murong Yue, seeing his behavior, blushed again, realizing he had given himself away.

When night fell, they left their tents to see the Golden Crow River.

Night hung high, its faint grey shadows falling upon the lake's surface. The rolling river, tinged with a faint light, flowed slowly along the moonlit path against a dark reddish-brown background. The winter chill pierced through the redwood forest, bringing a biting cold to those around them.

Legends are just legends; in the end, they are passed down by word of mouth and are nothing more than a blurry reflection.

They saw nothing. Nothing—no boatmen, no ghosts, no monsters lurking beneath the water, no signs of the sun appearing. Only the loneliness sweeping across the long river, especially pronounced in winter, a desolation that pierced the heart, magnifying the moonlight infinitely. The silence of the night stretched endlessly, leaving only their frail figures.

At night, Lu Xuejin fell into a deep sleep.

He dreamed about that long river.

The Jinwu River in winter.

The redwood forest transformed into sharp thorns.

The river water turned into real blood.

Ghostly shadows emerged from the grass.

The golden crow in the statue transformed into a bird-beaked boatman, the oars gently swaying on the river.

He asked the boatman where he was going.

The boatman told him that he was not the one who wanted to take the boat.

He saw two dark figures on the boat. The boatman with the bird-beak was carrying two boys. He saw Xue Yi.

Xue Yi's figure shrank to a tiny size, emerging from the gaps in the withered, sickly shadows. The red-clad boy nestled behind Xue Yi was himself in his youth.

The bird-beaked boatman carried them away.

The small boat drifted and rocked, swaying into the crimson hue of the night.

Swimming back into carefree childhood, returning to a dreamscape woven with illusions. Returning to the mist. Returning to the rain.

He saw his younger self waving at him. That smiling face was beckoning to him.

Gone. Gone far away. Vanished.

rain.

rain.

rain.

Luzhou City. The continuous rain had worn down Wei Ning's patience. He glanced out the window for a moment, then frowned and looked away, asking a guard, "Has His Majesty not returned yet?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a figure appeared downstairs at the inn. Xue Yi stepped in through the mud and water, holding an umbrella, his whole body soaked with moisture. He seemed to be in much better physical condition, but the gloom in his expression could not be erased, as if he was deeply wounded, with a layer of despondency on his face.

Wei Ning also went downstairs and asked, "Did you go to the post station again?"

Xue Yi responded quietly, "I heard the official silver has already been sent. Changyou hasn't written to me yet."

Wei Ning almost laughed. Not writing a letter meant he didn't want to; after delivering the official silver, he hadn't even returned, and his route was heading south. Why couldn't some people understand such a simple truth? Looking at Xue Yi's expression, she swallowed all her harsh words.

"Perhaps he's been busy lately. These matters can be left to the guards. If Changyou writes a letter, the guards will naturally deliver it to His Majesty. His Majesty has already visited three times today. He has just recovered from a serious illness, so it's best to avoid unnecessary trouble."

Xue Yi nodded and said, "I know what I'm doing."

The torrential rain poured down, and Xue Yi looked out the window. His dark eyebrows appeared even more pronounced in the rain, like ink spreading and revealing a hint of color in the dead of winter. He noticed Wei Ning looking at him, and when he turned his gaze, he saw the expression in Wei Ning's eyes and belatedly realized that Wei Ning was pitying him.

He suddenly laughed, and his features became vibrant and beautiful, melting away in the rain.

"Meng Chang, are you worried about me?"

Wei Ning immediately withdrew his gaze and said coldly, "No. It would be best if you died sooner, then I would save myself trouble and just send Changyou a letter of your will."

"I can't die on the road yet." Xue Yi said, coughing softly as he covered his palm with a pool of blood. Though his body was broken and frail, his deep-seated obsession made him all the more resilient.

"If I die, I want to die in front of Changyou, so that Changyou will never forget me until the very end. If I die in this desolate wilderness, I will crawl to his side as a ghost." He brushed past Wei Ning, leaving behind only these few words.

It just has to be him. It just has to be him.

It is unacceptable for someone to be born with a special blessing.

If he dies, he will become a ghost, a drop of blood, a vengeful spirit, haunting Changyou. His form and spirit cannot dissipate, but he cannot. Changyou cannot. As long as Changyou lives, he will endure in this world. Changyou cannot. Changyou cannot.

It transformed into the torrent of rain, into a blood-red river, into a fanatical deity.

He is the only one I can live with.