Despite her previous thoughts, now that they were truly out of danger, Mei Lin found herself unsure how to handle Murong Jinghe. She decided to ask him directly where he wanted to go.
“Go where? I’m not going anywhere,” Murong Jinghe replied flatly, not even looking up as he sipped the ginseng and wild chicken soup she had prepared.
His answer surprised Mei Lin. Though she knew it couldn’t be his true desire, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of joy, which showed plainly on her face.
Murong Jinghe didn’t notice, too focused on savoring the warm soup that finally satisfied his dulled taste buds after so long.
Mei Lin said nothing more, concentrating on feeding him the soup. Afterward, she helped him sit up against the kang bed to digest and opened the window beside it to let the outside scenery flow in before taking the empty bowl away.
The window overlooked the courtyard, with its wattle fence, thorny gate, and an old moss-covered well near the left side. The yard had packed earth, with a stone path leading from the main house to the gate. Several bare old trees of indeterminate species grew inside and outside the fence, their dark branches spread wide against the clear blue sky, lending a wild charm to the scene. Beyond the fence, one could see the roofs of other houses and the distant mountains and cliffs.
Murong Jinghe gazed silently at the view, his eyes as still and deep as calm waters.
Mei Lin was adaptable by nature and not picky about her living situation, so once settled, she had no plans to leave. Since Murong Jinghe didn’t say he wanted to go, she wouldn’t presume to decide for him. If she were to send him where he truly belonged, she could no longer stay here herself. She liked this place, so his not leaving was naturally for the best.
With Murong Jinghe taken care of, she turned her full attention to preparing for winter. Beyond just considering food and clothing, there were other matters to address…
As she carried armfuls of chopped firewood into the woodshed, Mei Lin mentally listed all the tasks that needed doing. But unexpectedly, when she was nearly finished, she collapsed in the woodshed, firewood and all.
After two overcast days, it finally began to rain. The rain wasn’t heavy, but its incessant patter was irritating.
Murong Jinghe watched as the remaining firewood in the yard got soaked. Rain blew in through the half-open window, spattering onto his old cotton quilt and quickly soaking a large patch.
It wasn’t until dusk that Mei Lin suddenly appeared from somewhere, silently holding a dim tung oil lamp that cast her delicate face in a ghostly blue-white light.
The rain continued to pour, growing heavier.
“Where did you go?” Murong Jinghe asked quietly, breaking the silence as he watched her climb onto the kang to close the window, remove the now-sodden quilt, and wipe the water from the bedding with a dry cloth.
Mei Lin’s hands paused briefly before continuing her task.
“Someone asked for help. It took longer than expected,” she replied softly, her bangs hanging low and slightly damp.
Murong Jinghe detected the suppressed tension and exhaustion in her light tone. His eyes narrowed slightly as he remarked with mild displeasure, “How many of your words are true, woman?” His words carried a hidden meaning.
Mei Lin glanced at him, her lips curving into a forced smile. She didn’t contradict him, but she didn’t say anything else either.
She was more silent than ever before, but she didn’t neglect any of her usual tasks.
She stoked the kang fire, and since the quilt had shielded most of the bedding from getting wet, she didn’t need to change it – which was fortunate, as there were no spare blankets. She relied on the kang’s heat to dry what dampness remained. She heated water for Murong Jinghe’s bath to warm his chilled body, then attended to his meals and other needs. Finally, she replaced the wet quilt with some thicker clean clothes to make do for the night.
Thinking it over, it seemed all her efforts revolved around Murong Jinghe, with little left to do for herself.
Previously, to make caring for him easier and to conserve firewood for the kang, they had shared the bed due to a lack of extra bedding. But on this night, after seeing to his sleep, she took the oil lamp and left, not returning.
The kang remained warm throughout the night.
Though he had no quilt, Murong Jinghe felt hot – not unbearably so but noticeably warm. Yet he couldn’t sleep. Perhaps anyone forced to lie idle all day would struggle to find rest.
Occasional faint sounds from the kitchen let him know the woman hadn’t slept either.
Before dawn fully broke, Mei Lin entered carrying a bowl of hot porridge and two steamed buns. This time she hadn’t lit a lamp, and her hands shook slightly as she helped him sit up. He noticed that in just one night, her eye sockets seemed to have sunken deeply, her lips as white as death with clear bite marks.
“You…” Turning his face from the proffered porridge, Murong Jinghe hesitated before asking, “What’s wrong?”
The spoon clinked against the bowl. Mei Lin unconsciously bit her lip again, her teeth sinking into the clotted wound. The trembling in her hands subsided slightly as her chest heaved twice. Suddenly, she looked up at him and blurted out, “Give me the antidote, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
Murong Jinghe met her gaze steadily, his eyes full of scrutiny as he slowly asked, “What antidote?”
Mei Lin’s eyes dimmed, and she fell silent, offering the spoonful of porridge again.
Murong Jinghe’s gaze fell on her bloodied lips. After a long moment, he opened his mouth and drank the porridge from the spoon. After drinking about half the bowl and eating most of a bun, he turned his head away.
“I said I’m not going anywhere,” he reiterated, watching as she sat down and silently ate his leftovers, her slightly curved back revealing a tension that seemed ready to snap at any moment.
Mei Lin murmured an acknowledgment without looking up. Her face showed none of the joy from days before, and her hunched posture suggested she might break at any moment.
After hastily finishing the remains, she left. When she returned, she carried the quilt that had been soaked the day before. Now dry, it still held some warmth and the scent of woodsmoke when she spread it over him.
“I’ll be back before noon…” she said, turning Murong Jinghe onto his side and gently massaging his limbs and the side of his body against the kang. Glancing at the window where the soft dawn light filtered through, the rain still pattering against it, she added, “It’s raining, so I won’t open the window today.” She knew how uncomfortable it must be to lie motionless all day, unable even to turn over. So before leaving, she often propped him up slightly and opened the window, at least allowing his gaze to extend beyond the confines of the room.
“Where are you going?” Murong Jinghe asked thoughtfully, watching her.
Mei Lin shook her head without answering, smoothed her slightly disheveled hair, and quickly left.
As her figure disappeared through the doorway followed by the sound of the closing door, a hint of gloom passed through Murong Jinghe’s eyes.
Mei Lin didn’t go anywhere special – she simply sought out the old man and returned with some common herbs for detoxification and pain relief. She knew in her heart they wouldn’t be very effective, but felt it was worth trying.
She could have reported Murong Jinghe’s condition to her organization or revealed the mysterious tomb beneath Stone Forest. Either option might have secured her the best antidote available. But she dismissed these thoughts almost as soon as they arose.
Aside from the trouble that would come from revealing Murong Jinghe’s whereabouts, she had finally found an opportunity to break free from the organization. Why invite trouble by getting involved again? Moreover, she still couldn’t be certain if Murong Jinghe was truly who she thought he might be, making rash action even more risky.
Her attempt to trick him that morning had only deepened her confusion rather than providing any clarity. But this wasn’t surprising – after the incident at Mount Zhong, she knew she was no match for his cunning. Perhaps it was better to be straightforward from now on.
Upon returning home, Mei Lin brewed the herbs and drank the decoction. Apart from the warmth and bitterness sliding from her throat to her stomach, there was no notable effect. The pain remained – a bone-deep, heart-piercing agony that, despite years of familiarity, had never become bearable.
Her strength was ebbing away, yet her inner power grew increasingly turbulent, swelling within her weakened meridians as if ready to burst forth and tear her apart at any moment.
She had long known something was amiss with her recovered inner power but never imagined it could one day become deadly.
With trembling hands, she grasped nearby objects to stand up. Before she could catch her breath, her chest heaved, and she vomited up all the medicine she had just consumed. The already herb-scented kitchen now reeked even more strongly.
Mei Lin took out a handkerchief to wipe the residue from her mouth and nose. She collected herself, then went to the water vat to rinse her mouth with cold water.
When she reappeared before Murong Jinghe, she had tidied herself up. Apart from her poor complexion, nothing seemed amiss. Since Murong Jinghe had asked her once without receiving an answer, he didn’t inquire again.
Two days passed like this. On the third day, Mei Lin finally collapsed in front of Murong Jinghe.
When she regained consciousness and saw his furrowed brow, she did not explain. She simply went to drink some cold water to revive herself a bit.
“I can’t take care of you properly…” she said bluntly upon returning. After a pause, she added, “Tell me somewhere reliable, and I’ll take you there.” As she spoke, a sudden pang hit her heart. Even if she wanted to care for him for life, even if he was willing to let her, it simply wasn’t possible.
Murong Jinghe gazed silently at her face, which had grown gaunt so rapidly in just two days. He asked slowly, “If you discard me, where do you intend to go?”
The word “discard” stung Mei Lin’s heart, but she was past the point of dwelling on such things. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she gave a bitter smile. “Wherever the wind takes me.” She had planned to settle here long-term, but the agony of the poison left her no choice but to wander, hoping to find some cure or at least relief for her pain.
Murong Jinghe fell silent, his gaze moving from her face to the window, taking in the distant green mountains interspersed with brown and drunken red. After a while, he said flatly, “If you find me burdensome, you can leave. There’s no need to concern yourself with me.”
Mei Lin was taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to say this. Given his previous temperament, if he still needed her, she would have expected threats rather than such petulant words.
Her lips moved, wanting to say something, but she didn’t know what. In the end, she just sighed softly and walked out.
Of course, she wouldn’t abandon him, but traveling around seeking treatment with an immobile person was impractical. So they could only remain where they were, taking each day as it came.
“They say that datura leaves combined with codonopsis roots can relieve pain,” Murong Jinghe suddenly said one day.
These herbs could be found in the mountains. At this point, Mei Lin had little to lose, so she went to gather some and brewed them into a decoction. The effect wasn’t immediate, but after an hour or two, just when she thought it hadn’t worked, the pain that had tormented her for days eased considerably.
Mei Lin wondered if increasing the dosage might eliminate the pain. So, while her energy was somewhat restored, she went back into the mountains and gathered a whole basket of datura and codonopsis, figuring it was better to have extra.
When Murong Jinghe saw this through the window, he was alarmed.
“If you wish to die, that dagger would be cleaner and quicker. Why go to such lengths?” he called out to her irritably.
Mei Lin finally realized that these two herbs could be fatal in large doses. Her plan to increase the dosage to counteract the poison’s effects had to be abandoned. Nevertheless, having these herbs was still far better than before.
With the physical pain no longer unbearable, that night she finally returned to the kang bed. For the first time in days, she fell asleep, not waking until the herb’s effects wore off and the pain roused her. Even this much was deeply satisfying to her.
She first went to the kitchen to brew and drink a bowl of the herbal decoction. While waiting for it to take effect, she prepared breakfast and helped the now-awake Murong Jinghe wash up. After breakfast, as the medicine began to work, she seized the opportunity to head into the mountains to gather supplies for winter.
The inner power recovering within her body grew noticeably stronger each day. After the pain subsided, it no longer felt as violently explosive as before, but it still swelled uncomfortably, making her want to find some way to release it.
Mei Lin threw herself into hunting with abandon. Surprisingly, even after exhausting herself to the point of complete depletion one day, she would wake the next morning with her inner energy even more vigorous and abundant than before. For a martial artist, this phenomenon would typically be considered a stroke of incredible luck. But Mei Lin felt no joy in it. She could sense that this inner power was different from what she had cultivated in the dark factory. It was too fierce, so overwhelming that it might one day consume even its host.
Murong Jinghe noticed her abnormal state as well. Confined to bed all day, with nothing to do but observe the scenery outside the window and the only moving thing in the room, how could he not notice after days of careful observation?
“What’s going on with your inner power?” he asked one day as Mei Lin was massaging his body.
Mei Lin had been troubled by this very issue. Knowing his extensive knowledge and cunning mind, she eagerly seized the opportunity to explain the situation in broad strokes. She didn’t expect him to provide a solution, but if his insight could help deduce even part of the cause, it would be enough.
Murong Jinghe’s eyes lit up with interest upon hearing this, clearly intrigued.
“We’ve been together constantly, never apart…” he mused, confirming once more the specific time when this situation occurred. Then he asked, “Did you encounter anything unusual in that coffin?”
Meilin, prompted by his question, recalled the beautiful man and his dizzying fragrance.
“Did you disturb the corpse?” Murong Jinghe frowned.
“I needed to take the jade pillow under his head, so naturally…” Meilin began to explain uneasily, but Murong Jinghe impatiently cut her off.
“Is that the kind of corpse you can just casually disturb? Do you have any sense?”
Scolded again. Meilin felt dejected, but not as upset as before, sensing concern beneath his rebuke… or at least she hoped it was a concern.
“He might not be dead,” she muttered, still unconvinced it was a corpse.
“That stone forest has existed for thousands of years. Do you expect that person was just put there recently?” Murong Jinghe retorted irritably. After a moment’s thought, he decided it wasn’t worth getting angry over and added, “This is a stroke of luck others would dream of. Consider yourself fortunate.”
Hearing the dismissiveness in his tone, Meilin didn’t pursue the topic further. Thus, the matter of her inner energy’s rebirth ended there, and they didn’t speak of it again for a long time.
Although Lao Wozi Village was poor, life there was peaceful and leisurely, free from scheming and constant fear. Meilin had never experienced such a life in her memory, and she felt it was worth enduring some hardship for this tranquility.
The pain from the poison attacks, though eased by herbal decoctions, still took its toll on her body. Combined with the conflict arising from her growing inner energy, she fainted several more times afterward. Once, it happened on her way back from hunting, and a fellow villager brought her home.
When she awoke, she found herself lying on the kang bed, with Murong Jinghe facing her, his expression less than pleased. Before she could recall what had happened, she heard a man with a grating voice speaking rapidly in the local dialect.
Turning her head in confusion, she saw a short man sitting cross-legged at the foot of the kang, gulping water from a bowl while talking to Murong Jinghe. More accurately, he was doing all the talking while Murong Jinghe listened.
The room was filled with the pungent smell of fermented soybeans, nearly making Meilin faint again.
When the man saw Meilin awake, his face lit up with delight. If not for the cold glare from Murong Jinghe, he might have pounced on her.
“Lady Lin, you’re finally awake! Have some water, have some water…” he said, eagerly leaning forward to offer her his bowl.
As he moved, the stench grew stronger. Meilin’s face paled slightly as she propped herself up, accepting the bowl but not drinking from it.
“You are…?” Despite wanting to send this strange man away, her habitual caution made her smile faintly, prioritizing understanding the situation.
Her natural beauty, enhanced by this smile, made her appear like a blossoming flower. Her pale complexion only added to her touching allure, distinctly different from ordinary village women.
The man stared, transfixed. If not for Murong Jinghe’s cold snort, he might have started drooling.
Although displeased, Meilin showed no sign of it. She got up from the kang, tucked the blanket around Murong Jinghe, and listened to the man’s stuttering explanation. After a while, she understood that he had brought her home after finding her collapsed.
Since he had essentially rescued her, she couldn’t show any displeasure. She selected a roe deer, two hares, and five pheasants from her hunt as a thank-you gift, finally managing to send him away. Although the villagers of Lao Wozi lived in the mountains, few were hunters, mostly relying on small plots of poor land for survival. Thus, her gift was considered generous.
After seeing him off, she returned to the main room, still filled with the nauseating odor. Murong Jinghe’s expression remained sour. Remembering his reaction to the smell of the corpse ghoul before, Meilin found his endurance both amusing and pitiful.
“I want to go outside,” he said, clearly unable to bear it any longer.
Meilin instinctively looked out the window, noticing it was dusk. The mountain forest was tinted with sunset hues, and the sky was a deep blue, presenting a breathtaking autumn evening scene. Realizing he hadn’t been out in a long time, she agreed, found a relatively intact chair to place against the wall, and went to carry him.
Just as she lifted him onto her back and took a few steps, he bit her ear. Her legs nearly gave out, almost causing her to fall.
“You can’t fancy that sort of man,” Murong Jinghe said in a lower voice than usual, his tone more commanding than discussing.
Meilin steadied herself and continued walking, carefully considering his words before laughing.
“What are you thinking?” The villagers all believed they were husband and wife, so how could anyone have designs on her? Besides, knowing her condition and needing to care for him, how could she have the energy to entangle others?
Murong Jinghe pouted, still not letting go. “Then why did you smile at him so flirtatiously?”
Flirtatiously, flirtatiously, flirtatiously… For a moment, these words filled Meilin’s mind, nearly causing her to cough up blood. After a while, she retorted bitterly, “I smile at you even more flirtatiously, and you don’t seem to care.” She had spoken without thinking and only realized what she’d said afterward, her face turning crimson.
Murong Jinghe chuckled, and his mood greatly improved. By the time Meilin placed him in the chair, his expression had returned to normal, no longer looking as if everyone owed him a fortune.
Meilin draped a coat over him, then returned to the room to change the bedding, soaking it in a tub. She opened all the windows and fumigated the room with wormwood and other herbs. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t tolerate the kang smelling of someone else, given that she had shared cramped, dirtier, and smellier spaces with others before.
Unable to comprehend it, she didn’t bother trying. As she worked, she kept recalling her earlier outburst, her face growing hotter and her heart pounding. She felt embarrassed, flustered, and inexplicably expectant, reminiscent of when they were crawling through that narrow passage, bodies pressed close, as he softly called her name.
“Woman, if I remain like this for life, would you still stay with me?” Murong Jinghe suddenly asked, turning his gaze from the distant sky as Meilin crouched by the well, scrubbing the bedding.
For life… Meilin’s hands paused, her downcast eyes darkening. She didn’t answer.
How could she promise a lifetime when she didn’t have one to give?
Receiving no response from Meilin, Murong Jinghe didn’t seem displeased. He simply smiled and turned his gaze back to the horizon.
In their minds, this wasn’t a major issue. They had expressed their gratitude, and that should have been the end of it. However, the next day, an old woman arrived unexpectedly.
Meilin was about to go hunting when the old woman came early, catching her just as she was leaving. The woman’s family name was Liu, and this was their first meeting.
When Liu saw Meilin fastening the wooden gate, she didn’t greet her immediately. Instead, she stood there, scrutinizing her from head to toe, as if she wanted to undress her for a thorough examination.
Meilin felt uncomfortable under her gaze and was about to speak when the old woman started muttering.
“Quite a pretty young thing, though a bit thin. But those hips look like they could bear children…”
Meilin’s expression changed briefly, but she quickly smiled, her radiance dazzling. Liu’s old eyes blinked in surprise, and she inwardly lamented as she shuffled closer, launching into a string of familiar greetings before Meilin could speak.
“Where are you off to, young lady?” she finally asked, seeming to realize Meilin was about to leave.
While trying to decipher the old woman’s intentions, Meilin smiled and replied, “Winter’s coming, and we’re short on food. I was thinking of heading into the mountains to see if I could find something to tide us over.” Since she had sought advice from hunters on how to process furs and sell games, almost everyone in Lao Wozi Village knew she hunted, so there was no need to hide it.
Hearing this, Liu clicked her tongue and sighed. Just as Meilin’s smile was about to falter, the old woman exclaimed with feigned sympathy, “Such a pity! To have a delicate young thing like you traipsing through the mountains day after day. What if you encounter wolves or tigers? How dreadful!”
Meilin maintained her smile but didn’t respond or invite her inside.
Seeing no reaction, Liu had to continue, “If only you had a capable man at home, you wouldn’t have to endure such hardship.”
Meilin’s eyes darkened slightly, her tone cooling, “What are you saying, Auntie? I have a capable man at home.” Even if Murong Jinghe couldn’t move, he was still more useful than most men in the world. She felt indignant but didn’t realize she had unconsciously begun to consider him the man of their household.
Hearing this, Liu’s face showed undisguised contempt. She scoffed before noticing Meilin’s displeasure and quickly put on a conciliatory smile. “Of course, you have a man at home, I know that. But forgive me for saying, isn’t your husband more of a burden than a help? How can he be of any use?”
“If you know it’s offensive, why say it?” Meilin coldly smiled, no longer polite. “Whether my man is useful or not is no concern of an outsider like you. Please leave.” She prepared to depart.
Liu had assumed that a young, beautiful woman facing a paralyzed husband daily would be full of complaints and eager to confide in someone. She was stunned by this reaction and hurriedly grabbed Meilin’s sleeve.
“What else do you want, Auntie?” Meilin, wishing to stay in the village long-term, tempered her tone slightly to avoid burning bridges.
Fearing she might be sent away before stating her purpose, Liu abandoned her roundabout approach and got straight to the point.
“Don’t misunderstand, young lady. I’ve come to offer congratulations.”
Meilin raised an eyebrow, a strange feeling rising in her chest, but she didn’t respond.
Liu had to continue, “You know Wei Er’er, the village head’s son.” Seeing Meilin’s confused expression, she added, “The one who brought you home yesterday when you collapsed on the mountain path.”
Meilin nodded to show she understood, and Liu went on, “Wei Er’er has taken a liking to you and wants to take you as his wife. He has five mu of good paddy fields, four mu of fertile land, and has never been married before…”
Upon hearing about being taken as a wife, Meilin was so shocked that she barely registered Liu’s subsequent, potentially exaggerated, praises.
“Auntie, I already have a husband,” she said, both amused and annoyed, emphasizing her words.
Liu paused, giving her an odd look. “So what? Several families in this village have one wife and two husbands. Wei Er’er doesn’t mind and is even willing to help you care for that paralyzed man…” Seeing Meilin’s expression darken, Liu realized her mistake and pretended to slap herself, spitting twice. “Forgive my loose tongue, young lady. Don’t be angry.”
Meilin, holding back her anger, merely pursed her lips without responding.
“Such a good opportunity is hard to come by. Just say yes, and you’ll be able to enjoy a comfortable life at home,” Liu concluded, unable to read Meilin’s thoughts and fearing she might say something else offensive.
Meilin closed her eyes, suppressing the urge to kick the woman. When she opened them again, she wore a pitiful expression.
“Thank you for your trouble, Auntie, but a good woman doesn’t serve two husbands. I can’t bear such a reputation…” Seeing Liu about to persuade her further, she quickly added, “Besides, although my husband can’t move, he’s a wonderful person. If I remarry, it would break his heart. His health is poor, and if anything happened to him because of this, how could I enjoy a comfortable life with a clear conscience?”
These words left Liu speechless. Fearing the situation might lead to tragedy, she didn’t press further. After a few more casual remarks and urging Meilin to reconsider, she left reluctantly.
With Liu gone, Meilin no longer felt like going out. Full of anger with nowhere to vent, she stormed back inside.
Murong Jinghe was sitting up in bed, gazing out the window. He watched as she angrily returned, making a racket in the kitchen, doing who knows what, and then suddenly darting into the woodshed. She emerged with an armful of logs and began chopping them in the courtyard. Her manner suggested she was imagining chopping people rather than wood. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Woman, come here,” he called.
Meilin, cheeks puffed out in anger, split two more logs before stopping. She turned to see the man in the window, his eyes full of amusement. Wearing an old white undergarment, his black hair spread out on the bedding behind him, his expression languid, his handsome face slightly pale but with curved eyebrows and a smile.
With just one glance, all her anger suddenly vanished, replaced by the thunderous beating of her heart. She lowered her head, her ears growing hot, feeling inexplicably shy.
“Hey, are you deaf? I told you to come here. Didn’t you hear me?” Murong Jinghe’s voice came again, with a hint of curiosity in his tone.
Fine, I’ll come! Meilin suddenly looked up and glared at him, then dropped the axe and truly went over.
(End of Chun Hua Yan – Chapter)