Chapter 167
The oil lamp flickered dimly in the simple earthen house. Sheng Xuan's breathing soon became even and long, clearly indicating that he had fallen into a deep sleep after a long and tiring day.
Su Zhelan lay on the hard earthen bed, but couldn't fall asleep. He stared at the low roof, blackened by smoke, and the sounds of the day's futility, the villagers' whispers that they avoided like the plague, and the child's unintentional remark, "This is where ghosts live," seemed to echo in his ears. These sounds intertwined, scraping against his taut nerves.
The path leading to the source of his suffering seemed to reveal a faint outline in the darkness, yet it only made his heart more unsettled. The yearning for the truth, the fear of his cruel past, and the overwhelming sorrow of returning home pounded against him like waves, preventing him from finding peace. His body was utterly exhausted, yet his mind was unusually clear; he could even distinctly hear his own heart pounding like a drum in the silence.
He tried his best to suppress the urge to turn over, afraid of disturbing Shengxuan beside him, and could only lie stiffly, letting his chaotic thoughts run rampant in the darkness.
Just then, a warm and steady hand gently landed on his tense shoulder.
Su Zhelan's body trembled almost imperceptibly.
That hand, carrying an undeniable weight, patted twice gently, a soothing gesture, steady yet strangely comforting. Immediately afterward, Xiao Qiyun's deep, calm voice sounded beside her, low as if afraid to break the silence of the night, yet clearly reaching Su Zhelan's ears:
"Stop thinking about it." Xiao Qiyun's voice was devoid of blame or excessive emotion, only displaying a calm and insightful understanding. "Since we have clues, we can follow them tomorrow. Tossing and turning at this moment will not help and will only waste our energy."
Su Zhelan remained silent and did not respond immediately, but the muscles on her shoulders, which were as taut as iron, relaxed almost imperceptibly under the steady warmth of Xiao Qiyun's palm.
Xiao Qiyun's hand did not leave, remaining firmly on his shoulder, as if trying to transmit his strength and composure through his palm. "Close your eyes and slow your breathing," Xiao Qiyun's voice continued in a low tone, carrying an undeniable guiding tone, "So you can conserve your energy and have the strength to deal with things tomorrow."
Su Zhelan took a breath, then slowly exhaled, and obediently closed his dry eyes. In the darkness, the warmth and weight of the hand on his shoulder became exceptionally clear, like a silent and reliable mountain, calming his almost out-of-control emotions.
Xiao Qiyun didn't speak again, but remained in that posture, silently conveying comfort and strength.
Time flowed slowly in the silence. Su Zhelan tried to clear her mind, focusing her attention on the steady touch on her shoulder and her gradually slowing breathing. Her rapid heartbeat subsided, and her tense nerves gradually relaxed. Extreme exhaustion finally overcame her chaotic thoughts, her heavy eyelids slowly closed, and her breathing gradually became even and long.
Just before he fell into a deep sleep, he seemed to feel a hand on his shoulder press down very gently again before slowly withdrawing.
In the darkness, Xiao Qiyun lay quietly on his side, listening to the gradually synchronized, steady breathing of the two people beside him. A faint, almost imperceptible light flashed in his deep eyes in the dim light before he slowly closed them as well.
The simple mud house finally fell completely quiet. The wind outside the window still whistled, but it no longer sounded so cold and biting. That night, Su Zhelan, filled with heavy anticipation and anxiety, finally found a brief moment of peace under Xiao Qiyun's steady protection and fell into a deep sleep.
As dawn broke, a thin mist enveloped this remote mountain village. The air was filled with the scent of firewood and earth, and a few scattered cries of roosters and barks of dogs drifted from afar.
The three of them had already gotten up. Su Zhelan's face still showed a hint of fatigue and pallor, but his eyes were much clearer than the night before. The faint light in his eyes settled down, transforming into a more serene and resolute expression. He carefully retied the small package, tucked it away close to his body, his movements carrying an almost reverent solemnity.
Sheng Xuan packed his meager belongings with great enthusiasm, muttering to himself, "This earthen bed is making my back ache... but at least we're making progress! Su Zhelan, don't worry, we'll definitely find it today!"
Xiao Qiyun remained silent as always. He had already prepared the horses and was standing in the courtyard, his gaze fixed on the desolate path the child had pointed out yesterday. His deep eyes held the usual caution and consideration.
After a quick wash and breakfast, Xiao Qiyun took some copper coins from his bag and placed them on the old wooden table in the main house as a token of his gratitude. The homeowner, an honest and simple peasant woman, declined a few times, but ultimately accepted them with profuse thanks.
Su Zhelan walked to the courtyard gate, nodded slightly to the peasant woman, and said calmly, "Thank you."
The peasant woman looked at his handsome face, which was weathered yet bore a heavy air about it. She glanced at the distinguished Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun behind him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something more to dissuade him from going, but in the end, it turned into a sigh. She simply murmured, "Please be careful on the road, everyone..."
Su Zhelan didn't say anything more, but nodded again and turned to walk towards Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun, who were already waiting with their horses.
Sheng Xuan nimbly mounted his horse and gestured with his chin toward the overgrown path: "Is this the right road, Su Zhelan?"
Su Zhelan mounted her horse and, once settled, her sharp gaze swept over the winding path that disappeared into the morning mist and deep forest. The words of the children from yesterday and vague fragments of memory intertwined in her mind.
He took a deep breath, his voice not loud but exceptionally clear: "Yes, let's go."
He flicked the reins and spurred his horse onto the desolate path. The horse's hooves rustled as they trampled the knee-high grass, and dew soaked the horse's legs and the hem of his robe.
Sheng Xuan immediately spurred his horse to follow closely, saying, "I'll clear the way! This grass is too tall..." He drew his sword from his waist and slashed at the overly dense branches and vines to clear a path for those behind him.
Xiao Qiyun silently controlled his horse to cover the rear, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings warily, watching for any possible signs of danger, while also taking in Su Zhelan's straight and resolute back.
The three of them followed the almost forgotten path, heading towards the depths of the dark, mist-shrouded mountains, a place considered taboo by the locals. The morning light struggled to pierce the fog, casting dappled shadows through the forest. The only sounds were the clatter of horses' hooves, the crackling of Shengxuan's knife cutting through thorns, and the lone cry of an unknown bird in the distance.
Su Zhelan's gaze was fixed on the road ahead, comparing every turn and every feature of the terrain with the long-buried fragments of painful memories in his mind. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, a mixture of the urgency of approaching the truth and the dignified resolve to confront the cruel past.
The three of them walked along the desolate path for nearly an hour through the increasingly rugged mountain forest. The morning mist completely dissipated, and the sunlight became dazzling, but it could not dispel the increasingly heavy atmosphere of deathly stillness and desolation that permeated the depths of this mountain forest.
A faint, lingering smell, a mixture of burnt and decaying odors, began to drift through the air. Su Zhelan's back tightened, his knuckles turning white from gripping the reins, but his gaze remained sharp and unwavering as he scanned ahead.
Finally, after passing through a dense thicket of thorns that almost completely obscured the path, the view suddenly opened up—but instantly pulled one into a suffocating desolation and deathly silence.
It was a wide, open mountain valley. At the bottom, vast stretches of charred, broken walls lay silently like jagged scars amidst the overgrown weeds and bushes. The outlines of the houses were long since blurred, leaving only the uneven, smoke-blackened stone foundations and a few scattered, stubbornly pointing blackened beams towards the sky. A dried-up, cracked riverbed, like a dead python, meandered through the heart of the ruins. As far as the eye could see, there was only decay, collapse, and a desolate sense of abandonment by time and disaster.
There were no birdsong, no insect sounds, and even the wind seemed to deliberately avoid this land; there was only a heavy, unsettling stillness.
Su Zhelan abruptly reined in his horse.
He sat upright on his horse, his body taut like a fully drawn bow, completely still. His deep eyes were fixed on the ruins, his pupils contracting sharply, as if trying to etch every inch of the cruelty before him into the deepest recesses of his soul.
There were no gasps, no tears, not even a noticeable tremor; only a near-frozen, icy stillness enveloped him. But beneath that ice, a surging, overwhelming wave threatened to tear him apart—a deep-seated hatred, profound sorrow, and a cold confirmation of finally reaching the other shore after countless hardships.
“…It’s here.” His voice was low and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against rough rock, each word carrying immense weight as it crashed into the silent air.
Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun also reined in their horses and stopped beside him. Sheng Xuan looked at the devastated ruins before him, gasped, his face filled with shock and unbearable sorrow. He subconsciously looked at Su Zhelan, opened his mouth, but found himself unable to say anything, and could only grip the reins tightly.
Xiao Qiyun's sharp gaze swept across the entire ruins, assessing the environment, before finally settling on Su Zhelan's seemingly frozen profile. A complex emotion, almost imperceptible, flashed in his deep eyes.
Su Zhelan stared silently for a moment, then he dismounted very slowly, his movements stiff. When his feet touched the ground, it was as if he had stepped into some kind of invisible quagmire, heavy and sluggish.
He still clutched the package tightly, walking step by step toward the scorched earth that buried all his warmth and joy and also swallowed the lives of his loved ones.
Their steps were slow, yet exceptionally firm, as if each step was treading on the bones of their enemies, carrying a chilling resolve.
Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun exchanged a glance and immediately dismounted. Sheng Xuan quickly tied the reins of the three horses to the trunk of a dead old tree nearby.
Xiao Qiyun quickly followed Su Zhelan, maintaining a distance that allowed him to reach out and support her without disturbing her too much.
Su Zhelan didn't turn back; his entire being seemed to be focused on the ruins before him. He walked through waist-high weeds, treading on broken tiles and charred charcoal, his gaze like the most precise ruler, measuring this land that had long since been unrecognizable.
Finally, he stopped in front of a relatively open area of ruins where the outline of a courtyard could still be vaguely discerned.
There may have once been a low stone wall there, but most of it has now collapsed and is buried under weeds and soil. Inside the courtyard, the outlines of several charred foundations are still faintly discernible, one of which is relatively large, with a smashed iron pot and half a charred millstone lying nearby.
Su Zhelan stood quietly at the dilapidated gate of the courtyard, his figure appearing exceptionally thin and lonely against the backdrop of the vast ruins and the pale sky. He gazed at the courtyard for a long time, as if he could see through the chaos to the scenes of past life, with smoke rising from chimneys and the sounds of chickens and dogs.
Those warmest memories, deliberately buried deep within him, clashed violently with the cruelest reality before him, nearly crushing him.
His body swayed almost imperceptibly.
Xiao Qiyun, who had been following closely behind, immediately took a half step forward without making a sound, raising his arm slightly to form a silent and stable support.
Sheng Xuan also held his breath nervously, his fists clenched tightly, but he dared not rush forward to disturb them.
Su Zhelan took a deep breath, the air thick with the pungent smell of scorched earth and decay, piercing his lungs. Finally, he lifted his foot, which felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and stepped over the long-gone threshold into the courtyard.
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