Sweet and tender
Days on the mountaintop.
After the rice seedlings left, the area seemed to be filled again with the vibrant life of early summer.
The traces of spring plowing have blended into the verdant green of the new seedlings.
The sun grew stronger each day, warming the wooden house to a cozy glow.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of rising grass and trees, mixed with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers.
The sun was shining brightly that afternoon.
Even the wind carried a lazy, warm feeling.
The little bull was hugging a large earthenware jar that was almost empty.
It snuggled up to Shen Yan, who was drying herbs under the eaves, and its voice was cheerful.
"Dad! Black Ball's honey pot is almost empty! It's been whining and whining these past few days, and its tail is wagging weakly. The old beehive on the cliff behind the mountain must be overflowing with honey right now! Shall we go and get some for it?"
His eyes shone with an astonishing light, full of the pure anticipation of a young man for adventure and reward.
Shen Yan put down the herbs in her hand.
Looking at her son's sunburnt, energetic face.
The slight emptiness that lingered in my heart because of my daughter's departure was also dispelled by this vibrant energy.
He smiled and gently rubbed the little bull's sweaty forehead.
"Alright! Today, my son will come with me to try and conquer that 'Bee Gate Pass'! However..."
He deliberately put on a stern face.
“Those bees are not to be trifled with. They are ruthless when it comes to protecting their hives. We two have to put on our ‘armor’ properly.”
"I know, Dad! The gauze cover Mom made is very sturdy!"
The little bull jumped up excitedly.
He deftly pulled out two sets of thick, coarse cloth clothes and a fine, resilient silk gauze cover, as delicate as a cicada's wing.
The father and son were fully armed, carrying baskets on their backs, tobacco bundles, and long-handled honey-cutting knives.
The Frostblade White Wolf followed silently.
Its icy blue eyes were fixed intently on its young master, as if this were its natural duty.
"Frostblade, you're going too?"
Shen Yan was somewhat surprised, as this big guy usually preferred to patrol the mountaintop or lie down and take a nap.
"Ugh."
Frostblade responded softly, its massive head nuzzling against the little bull's leg.
The meaning is self-evident—wherever he is, there it is.
Little Bull chuckled and patted Frostblade's thick shoulders and back.
"Frostblade Nose Spirit, perfect for scouting ahead for us!"
He took the lead, like a fawn familiar with the mountains and forests, and nimbly made his way to the back of the mountain.
Shen Yan, leaning on the wooden cane that Xuan Chenzi had recently carved for him, which was now more handy, followed with a smile.
The mountain road gradually became steeper.
As we approached the sun-facing, steep cliff, the buzzing sound of wings could be clearly heard in the air.
Like countless tiny golden gongs ringing out in unison.
"Dad! Look! There it is!"
The little bull lowered its voice.
He excitedly pointed to a huge beehive half-hidden by lush green vines.
The golden swarm of bees busily moved in and out of the hive entrance.
The two lit tobacco sticks, and the wisps of smoke, carrying a unique herbal aroma, drifted toward the beehive.
The buzzing of the agitated bees gradually subsided under the soothing effect of the smoke, and they appeared somewhat drowsy.
Chen Yan made the little bull retreat to a safe distance.
He carefully climbed up a protruding, moss-covered rock.
Raise the long-handled knife, hold your breath and concentrate, the tip of the knife steadily probing towards the fullest and most tempting honeycomb at the edge of the hive.
The moment the blade cuts into the wax, a rich, sweet aroma explodes!
Just as Shen Yan was fully focused, preparing to cut off the golden piece with a forceful wrist—
"Click!"
The seemingly stable rock covered in moss suddenly loosened at its base!
"father--!"
The little bull's terrified screams tore through the air!
Shen Yan felt a sudden weightlessness gripping his entire body!
Tinnitus, blurred vision.
He instinctively threw the honeycomb he had just cut from the hive toward the little bull.
His body, however, fell backward uncontrollably.
It crashed heavily onto the ground below, which was covered with a thick layer of decaying leaves!
"Thump! Crack!"
A dull thud was followed by a clear, teeth-grinding crack of bones dislocating.
Shen Yan sank into a shallow, natural pit, half a person deep, partially covered by fallen leaves.
The excruciating pain in my right ankle felt like a red-hot branding iron.
His vision went black instantly, and cold sweat soaked through his clothes on his back.
"Father! Father! How are you?!"
The little bull scrambled to the edge of the pit, tears welling up instantly.
Her voice trembled uncontrollably as her little hands reached futilely towards the bottom of the pit.
"hiss……"
Shen Yan gasped for breath, his jaw clenched, and veins bulged on his forehead.
He tried to squeeze out a sound.
"It's...it's nothing serious! I twisted my ankle! Don't panic!"
He tried to move his right foot, and the excruciating pain almost made him cry out.
She could only force herself to calm her son, "Quick! The rope!"
The little bull frantically rummaged through the basket and pulled out a rope, throwing it down with a sob in its voice.
Despite the excruciating pain, Shen Yan painstakingly tied a knot around her waist.
The little bull used all its strength to pull upwards.
The Frostblade White Wolf growled anxiously and bit down on the rope.
Its strong hind legs push off the ground, helping to drag it backward.
It took the combined efforts of the man and the wolf to barely drag Shen Yan up from the bottom of the pit.
Shen Yan sat on the ground, panting heavily, his face pale.
He unfastened his boots and socks, revealing that his right ankle was visibly swollen into a purplish-red bun, a horrifying sight.
"Father...it's all my fault...I insisted on coming..."
Little Bull looked at the wound, tears streaming down his face like broken beads, falling onto Shen Yan's hand.
"Nonsense!"
Despite the pain, Shen Yan used her uninjured hand to vigorously rub her son's head.
The voice carried a soothing quality.
“It was Dad’s own fault for not standing properly, and the stone slipped. What does it have to do with you? Come on, help Dad up, and let’s slowly move back together.”
However, the mountain path was rugged, and after hopping a few steps on one foot, Chen Yan was in so much pain that he was drenched in cold sweat, panting heavily, and almost unable to stand.
The Frostblade White Wolf circled around him anxiously.
A low whimper escaped his throat, and his icy blue eyes were filled with worry and urgency.
Just then.
A green shadow swept through the forest like a gust of wind.
It landed in front of the father and son in an instant.
The branches and leaves rustled slightly, bringing with them a cool breeze.
It's Ling Zhan.
She clearly sensed the anxious message from Frostblade and came looking for her.
His gaze swept over Shen Yan's horribly swollen ankles and his son's swollen eyes from crying.
Her cool, aloof brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"What's going on?" The voice remained steady, but the pace of speech was slightly faster than usual.
"Mom! Dad fell into a pit while collecting honey! He... he twisted his ankle!"
With a heavy nasal tone, the little bull quickly pointed to the pit.
Ling Zhan didn't ask any more questions and simply squatted down.
He reached out and quickly and precisely pressed and probed Shen Yan's wound.
The force was precisely applied, avoiding the most painful spot.
Her fingertips were slightly cool, but her movements carried an undeniable force.
Shen Yan hissed in pain, and even more cold sweat poured down his forehead.
"No broken bones, but sprained tendons."
She quickly made a judgment, then turned her back to Chen Yan and squatted down to steady herself.
"Come up."
"Ah Zhan, I..."
Shen Yan looked at the thin yet unusually upright back in front of her and hesitated.
He's a grown man, and he made her carry him...
"Don't dawdle."
Ling Zhan's tone was as commanding as ever, leaving no room for argument.
Without further hesitation, Shen Yan carefully crouched down.
Although her back was thin, it was more resilient and powerful than he had imagined.
It steadily supported his weight.
A scent, a mixture of sunlight, grass, and her unique, crisp fragrance, like pine needles after a snowfall, wafted into my nostrils.
It strangely soothed some of the anxiety caused by the pain.
His arm, with a hint of tentativeness and dependence, gently encircled her shoulder.
The little bull quickly picked up the honeycomb, which was covered in dirt but still oozing golden honey.
After gathering up the scattered tools, Frostblade and I followed closely behind, one on each side.
On the mountain road on the way back, Ling Zhan's steps were steady and powerful, but his speed was not slow at all.
Shen Yan lay on her back, feeling the even and powerful undulations of her back muscles as she walked.
Listening to her steady, almost unchanging breathing, I felt a mix of emotions.
Embarrassment, shame, and frustration at being a "burden" on someone.
Intertwined with an indescribable sense of security, and also a... secret, throbbing feeling enveloped by her presence.
The early summer scenery along the mountain road flashed by, yet he felt incredibly at ease.
Back in the cabin.
Ling Zhan carefully placed Shen Yan on a bed covered with thick animal hides.
Xuan Chenzi rushed over upon hearing the news, and after a careful examination, stroked his beard and nodded.
"Madam's judgment is correct. It's a sprained ligament, but fortunately, it hasn't damaged the underlying structure."
The old Taoist priest took out a small jade box containing a dark green ointment that emitted a strong medicinal fragrance.
He skillfully applied the ointment to Shen Yan.
The cooling sensation instantly enveloped the burning pain.
Next, he used several smooth pieces of hardwood and soft strips of cloth to neatly fix the injured foot.
"Young master, please remember that you must not put any weight on this foot for the next seven days. Rest is the best course of action," the old Taoist priest advised.
Feeling guilty, Little Bull brought over hot water and a cloth, carefully wiping Shen Yan's face and hands.
Then he went to the kitchen to brew that bitter-smelling medicinal liquid.
Ling Zhan then took the honeycomb that was covered in mud and went to deal with it.
As night fell, the wooden cabin lit torches, and the warm yellow glow dispelled the slight chill of the early summer mountaintop.
Chen Yan leaned against the headboard.
Her gaze involuntarily drifted toward Ling Zhan, who was sitting by the fire pit, meticulously wiping her dark, short blade with a fine cloth by the firelight.
The flickering firelight outlined a soft contour on her serene profile.
Long eyelashes drooping.
The focused expression possesses a captivating, serene beauty.
Ankle pain seems to have become an excuse for some kind of "privilege".
When Ling Zhan finished wiping, sheathed his sword, and stood up to leave.
On a whim, Shen Yan reached out and gently tugged at a corner of her dress.
“Ah Zhan…”
His voice was soft and gentle, tinged with weakness from his injury, and he gazed at her longingly.
"My foot...it hurts even more now, and it feels swollen...I wonder if it will get hot tonight..."
He paused, seemingly finding it difficult to speak, but finally mustered the courage to speak in a low voice.
"I...I'm lying here alone, and I feel a little uneasy."
He felt his ears burning as he said those words.
Ling Zhan stopped in his tracks, looked down at the hem of his clothes that had been tugged, and then looked up at Shen Yan.
Those clear, cold eyes, illuminated by the firelight, were as deep and unfathomable as a frozen pool.
It seemed as if they were carefully discerning the truth or falsehood in his words, or perhaps assessing a "task".
Shen Yan's heart raced as she stared at him, and he almost wanted to let go of her hand.
However, the next second, Ling Zhan actually turned around.
He dragged over the hardwood stool that was placed in the corner and sat down on the edge of his bed.
She placed the short blade on her lap, within easy reach.
"I am here."
She uttered only two words before her gaze returned to the leaping flames, her back ramrod straight, like a guardian deity.
Shen Yan was overjoyed at first!
She stayed!
She's willing to stay by his side!
However, this joy lasted only a moment before being replaced by an indescribable anxiety.
Ling Zhan was really just "present".
She is like a perfect statue.
I sat on that hard, uncomfortable wooden stool.
His gaze was mostly fixed on the pine torches burning in the hearth.
Make sure the flames don't go out, and occasionally glance at the short blade on your lap.
Her breathing was long and steady, her expression focused and... calm.
Forget about showing concern or care, she didn't even glance at him out of the corner of her eye!
It's as if sitting here guarding the hearth and her sitting here watching over him who has sprained his ankle are doing the same thing.
Chen Yan tried several times to break the silence of this "perfect guardian".
"Ah Zhan... this old Taoist's ointment is cool and refreshing, it feels quite comfortable..."
"Hmm." A single syllable, completely flat.
"Tonight...it seems there's no moon? It's pitch black outside..."
"Um."
"The medicine brewed by Little Bull... just the smell of it is so bitter it makes me want to vomit..."
"Um."
A series of emotionless "hmm" sounds.
It precisely blocked all the topics that Chen Yan tried to bring up.
He gazed at her breathtakingly beautiful yet utterly expressionless profile in the firelight.
Then I looked at my ankle, which was wrapped up like a rice dumpling and was still aching slightly.
This...this is practically a piece of wood carved from ice!
He went to great lengths to "play the victim" here.
They, on the other hand, went straight to the highest level of "alert and guard" status!
This stool is so hard! She works all day and then sits on it all night...
Heartache and reluctance ultimately overcame that little bit of wanting to cheat.
“Ah Zhan…”
Shen Yan let out a long sigh.
His voice carried genuine weariness and helplessness, along with a hint of barely perceptible frustration.
“I’m fine now, really. My feet… don’t seem so swollen anymore. You… you should go back to your room and sleep. Sitting like this,” he pointed to the hard stool, “it’s exhausting just looking at you.”
Ling Zhan finally shifted his gaze from the fire pit to his face.
The firelight danced in her eyes, and a faint, almost bewildered glimmer seemed to flash within them.
It was as if it was asking silently: Didn't you want me to stay?
But she ultimately didn't ask.
He simply looked closely into Chen Yan's eyes.
I could tell that the frustration and determination in his eyes were genuine.
There was a slight, almost imperceptible pause in her movement as she stood up.
He then decisively picked up the short blade from his knee.
"Call me if you need anything."
With those same three simple words, she turned and left the room silently, gently closing the door behind her.
Shen Yan stared at the empty space in front of his bed, the hard wooden stool seemingly still mocking him silently.
He shook his head, both amused and exasperated.
I drifted off to sleep amidst the coolness of the ointment and the chirping of insects outside the window in early summer.
Shen Yan's foot injury was cured by Xuan Chenzi's miraculous medicine and Ling Zhan's "iron-fisted" supervision.
Whenever he tried to sneak out of bed, she would always pin him back to bed with just one look.
The recovery was faster than expected.
A few days later, the swelling had subsided considerably, and the purplish discoloration had faded to a pale yellow. With the help of a wooden cane, he was able to slowly stroll around the yard.
With spring plowing completely finished, the days on the mountaintop flowed peacefully in the warm early summer sun.
Little Stone immersed himself in the vast collection of books that Xuan Chenzi had prepared for him every day, his little face as serious as an old scholar.
Little Bull was busy in the kitchen doing all sorts of things.
Using freshly picked wild vegetables, mushrooms, and game hunted, he tried to make up for his guilt, feeding Shen Yan until his face was rosy and glowing.
That afternoon.
Shen Yan was leaning on his cane in the courtyard, watching Xiao Man Niu tend to his precious medicinal herb garden.
The Frostblade White Wolf lazily lay dozing under the shade of a tree beside the herb garden, its tail occasionally twitching contentedly.
Suddenly, a rapid and distinctive sound of flapping wings, accompanied by a metallic tremor, came from afar!
"It's a snowbird!" Little Bull exclaimed, pointing to the sky.
A snow-white snowbird swooped down like an arrow.
She landed steadily on Ling Zhan's outstretched arm and skillfully untied the thin copper tube from the snowbird's leg.
A secret letter, as thin as a cicada's wing, was poured out.
My weary heart stirred for no apparent reason.
He walked over, leaning on his cane.
Ling Zhan unfolded the letter and quickly scanned it.
Her cool and aloof face showed little change, but Shen Yan keenly noticed that the fingertips holding the letter tightened slightly for a moment.
"Old Yang's letter?" Shen Yan asked, his voice unconsciously lowering.
Ling Zhan handed him the letter and said only two words.
"They're here."
Shen Yan took the letter, her breath catching for a moment.
Familiar, meticulous handwriting by Yang Sijian came into view:
Your Excellency and Madam's Respect:
A gust of wind stirs in the capital; an imperial decree has arrived.
Firstly, in the Wild Buffalo Valley of the Northern Frontier. An angel arrived with a decree, explicitly praising the young master and his wife for their efforts in settling refugees and expanding the frontier, using many complimentary words. However, the implication of a summons was subtle, mentioning that "the Lord will personally come to discuss border strategies." Shen Xiao and Shen Hong, in the valley, responded cautiously, using the excuse that "the Lord is far away and has not yet returned" to delay the conversation. The angel remained in the valley, while his accompanying hounds secretly observed the valley's true intentions.
Secondly, the prefectural city. The imperial decree arrived at the workshop on the same day. It explicitly summoned "Earl Zhongyong, Shen Yan, and his wife, Lady Ling, to immediately depart for the capital to report to the Emperor." The imperial envoy, holding his insignia, stayed at the prefectural government office, his demeanor respectful, yet his actions were increasingly authoritative, imposing a one-month deadline. Everyone in the workshop was under his watchful eye.
The trees may wish to be still, but the wind will not cease. The wrath of Heaven is unpredictable; the capital is likely no safe place. Undercurrents surge; the workshops and Wild Buffalo Valley are both crucial points in this game. Please, young master and lady, make a swift decision.
Yang Sijian respectfully presents
Shen Yan slowly raised her head and looked at Ling Zhan.
She was looking down at the churning sea of clouds below the mountain, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the short blade at her waist.
"The tree may wish to be still, but the wind will not cease..."
Shen Yan repeated the words from the letter in a low voice, his voice hoarse.
"The Taoist priest's words have come true. This paradise on the mountaintop..." He gave a bitter smile, "is ultimately just a mirage."
Ling Zhan withdrew his gaze, looked at him, his eyes sharp as a drawn blade, and clearly uttered four words.
There is no way to avoid it.
No further words were needed; their feelings were clear.
Pack your bags.
Ling Zhan's voice was resolute: "You can walk with a cane, so take more seeds and medicinal herbs with you."
Three days later, just as dawn was breaking.
The mountains were filled with a thin mist, sweet with dew, unique to early summer mornings.
The simple luggage has been packed.
The black ball seemed to sense the impending separation, and restlessly nudged the wall of the wooden house with its massive head.
It let out a low sob.
Ling Zhan stepped forward, placed his palm on its rough, thick neck skin, and gave instructions in a deep, clear voice.
"Guard this place well, Black Ball. Cloud Field and Wooden House are your territory. Take care of Little Golden Treasure."
The black ball quieted down, its huge eyes revealing reluctance, but it still nuzzled Ling Zhan's hand with its nose and let out a heavy, low growl, like a promise.
It belongs to this mountain peak.
Frostblade White Wolf stayed by Little Bull's side without leaving him for a moment.
Its icy blue eyes were calm, and its posture was clear—wherever its little master was, it would be.
Leaning on his cane, Shen Yan took one last deep look at the wooden house that had held their brief moments of peace and joy.
The neat rows of fields and the swirling mist filled my heart with a longing for my hometown, as if I were saying goodbye.
With red eyes, Little Bull wiped the kitchen until it was spotless.
There was still a pot of freshly cooked millet porridge in the stove, which was reserved for Heiqiu, and next to it was a large piece of fresh honeycomb that he had specially collected.
Little Stone quietly wrapped his handwritten copy of the "Star Classic" manuscript in oilcloth and put it into his backpack.
Ling Zhan handed the sealed secret letters to Ling Feng, the commander of the Shura Guard, who had been standing at attention and waiting.
Ling Feng accepted it with both hands.
He said in a deep voice, "My lord, my lady, please rest assured. I will certainly defend the city. The children will be properly taken care of."
The ten children, who had recovered from their illnesses, were led by Ling Feng's elite Asura Guards.
They huddled together, their faces showing a mixture of confusion and unease.
After resting on the mountaintop, their complexions became much rosier, and the initial numbness and fear in their eyes faded.
There was more of a childlike light and a bewildered anticipation for the future.
Zhou Wenqing's grandson has recovered and is now healthy.
He held the small wooden carving he had obtained on the mountaintop tightly, cherishing it immensely.
A little girl timidly tugged at Ling Feng's clothes.
"Uncle Commander,...can we come back?"
Ling Feng softened his voice, a rare occurrence, and patted her head.
"We're going back to the prefectural city. There are schools there, hot meals, and Grandpa Yang and Grandpa Zhou to take care of you. Grow up well."
He did not answer "come back".
But the children seemed to find some comfort in it.
Master Xuan Chenzi, dressed in a simple Taoist robe, carried a blue cloth bundle on his back and held a whisk in his hand, smiling with an air of otherworldly wisdom.
"This old Taoist priest, though enjoying the scenery on this mountaintop, should also go to the north to see the rustic charm of 'the wind blowing the grass low to reveal cattle and sheep'."
"Furthermore, according to my calculations, my disciple is probably being driven crazy by those little monkeys. I need to go and rescue him."
He chose to travel with them, their destination being the northern border region and his only apprentice, Shen Hong.
"I couldn't be happier to have you accompany me, Daoist Master," Shen Yan said gratefully.
"Let's go."
Ling Zhan's voice broke the silence of parting.
She walked over to Shen Yan and naturally extended her arm for him to support her.
Frostblade White Wolf let out a low growl and took the lead on the stone path leading down the mountain, clearing the way for the group.
The group, each with their own feelings, slowly descended the winding mountain path.
Shen Yan and Little Bull kept looking back.
The wooden house atop the mountain became increasingly indistinct in the thickening morning mist.
Ling Zhan didn't turn around at all.
It was only when they said they wanted to come back that things changed.
His footsteps paused almost imperceptibly.
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