This time, Nan Xian stayed at the village chief's house.
After the meal, the snow turned into a light rain. She held an umbrella, tucked the peony cinnabar in her bosom, and went alone to the silly woman's house.
If the mountain won't come to me, I'll come to the mountain.
She arrived shortly afterward.
The door to the silly woman's house was still open, but no lights were on inside.
She skillfully crossed the courtyard, and as soon as her right foot stepped onto the steps, a figure quickly appeared in front of her.
The old woman, holding a gray rabbit that was still kicking its legs in one hand and a rusty kitchen knife in the other, looked Nan Xian up and down with a strange expression.
Nan Xian was also taken aback by her display of force, but she quickly recovered and regained her composure.
Before the foolish woman could make her next move, she took out the peony cinnabar and handed it to her.
Do you recognize this?
The old woman's gaze shifted downwards, landing on her palm. Her pupils contracted instantly, and with a clang, the kitchen knife in her hand fell to the ground, the blade leaving a shallow dent in the stone brick floor.
The gray rabbit seized the opportunity to break free, flicked its long ears, and disappeared in a flash.
"You, you, you—" The simple-minded woman pointed at Nan Xian in astonishment and said "you" three times in a row.
Nan Xian stepped forward, helped her sit down in the hall, picked up the teacup that had fallen to the ground, and poured her a cup of cold tea.
"Don't rush, let me explain slowly..." She sat down opposite the simpleton.
As the rain subsided, the sun slowly peeked out from behind the clouds. Outside the dilapidated little tile-roofed house, only raindrops slid down from the eaves, making a crisp, pattering sound.
After listening to Nan Xian's account, the simple-minded woman was stunned for a long time.
Nan Xian took a sip of tea to moisten her dry throat, then coughed lightly: "That's how it is. I went through it twice. The first time it stopped at your place, and the second time it was at Old Man Teng's house. Do you remember anything?" She gently tapped the peony cinnabar on the table with her finger.
The silly woman looked up blankly, stared at Nan Xian for a long time, and then looked at it, her eyebrows furrowed in a troubled knot.
"Is there something you can't tell me?" Nan Xian asked tentatively.
The simple-minded woman was startled, then hurriedly waved her hands and shook her head, making anxious "woo-woo" sounds.
Nan Xian asked in surprise, "Can't you speak properly? Wait, but you clearly talked to me a lot the first time we met. What's going on?"
The silly woman nodded and shook her head, gesturing wildly and making "woo-woo" noises for a long time. Unfortunately, Nan Xian couldn't understand her body language at all, and after guessing for a long time, she still couldn't figure out what she was trying to express.
We had no choice but to give up.
Just then, the production team called to inform her to prepare for the afternoon's recording, and Nan Xian had to leave.
She put the peony cinnabar into the brocade pouch and looked at the simple-minded woman. "I know you must know where this comes from. I don't trust anyone else in this village, but you—my intuition tells me you're different from them. So, can I trust you?"
The old woman froze again, staring at Nan Xian in disbelief. Her cloudy eyes widened slowly, and her lips trembled slightly.
"Yes!" she said silently, nodding vigorously.
Nan Xian smiled with relief and solemnly handed the brocade pouch to the simpleton.
"Then, I'll leave it to you."
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