Encountering a Snake - Chapter 2

After taking one last look at this world, Shen Qingxuan’s mind relaxed, and his vision instantly went black, as if someone had covered his eyes completely with a dark cloth, leaving no trace of light. At the same time, the hot flow that he had been desperately suppressing in his chest surged forth, filling his mouth with warmth and a pungent, bloody stench.

Knowing it was his own blood, Shen Qingxuan found the taste nauseating and foul, thinking how filthy his body had become. He didn’t notice that what he spat out wasn’t ordinary blood but a clump of dark matter tinged with red. The repugnant smell emanated from those corrosive toxins, mixed with the thick scent of blood, making it all the more sickening.

The foul, acrid odor filled the small room, causing even Master Shen, who was by his side, to feel his stomach churn with nausea.

The steward quickly opened the windows and doors, urging the servants to clean the room and wipe down the young master, all while quietly stepping outside to summon the old servant of the estate, somberly arranging the funeral matters.

Though Shen Qingxuan, who had fainted, still had a faint breath, any experienced elder knew that this hurdle was one the young master would not overcome.

While he still had a last breath and his body was warm, they fetched clean clothes to change him into, tidied him up, and prepared to send him off in a clean and neat manner.

The once-bustling estate fell into another kind of silence on this misty dawn after a day and night of commotion.

White mourning flags, coarse linen, paper money, and coffins—everything needed for the funeral was quietly transported from the back door of the estate into the courtyard in the dim light of dawn.

Shen Qingxuan occasionally drifted into an endless darkness, only to regain clarity intermittently.

Though he couldn’t move, he could hear the whispered conversations and footsteps outside quite clearly.

He had no idea what awaited him, and in his brief moments of lucidity, he wondered if the legendary Ox-Head and Horse-Face might come with their soul-reaping ropes to take him on his final journey. But his consciousness was fleeting, and before he could dwell on these thoughts, he slipped back into darkness.

In this muddled state, who knows how much time passed—perhaps a long while, or maybe just an instant—when Shen Qingxuan vaguely noticed that the world outside the bed curtains had suddenly fallen into complete silence.

It was as if the world had plunged into an eternal night, with no sound of human activity.

Even the wind had vanished without a trace.

His heart filled with unease, but he lacked the strength to open his eyes and see what was happening.

Shen Qingxuan lay there, anxiously trying to gather his scattered thoughts, straining to listen for any sound.

But there was nothing—no sound, no breath.

Although Shen Qingxuan couldn’t open his eyes to see, his mind was clear. At this moment, his father would never leave him alone; there should be several servants in the room attending to him. Yet, he couldn’t hear anything or feel any presence of life.

It was as if the entire vast world had been reduced to just him, lying here all alone, barely clinging to life.

As he was consumed by growing doubt, another mouthful of blood spilled from his lips, sliding down his cheek and pooling behind his ear, warm at first but then slowly chilling in the cold air, like a tiny snake slithering down his neck. No one wiped it away for him, and there was no startled cry from a maid—it was as if the whole world had fallen silent.

The unsettling feeling of having nothing to rely on made Shen Qingxuan deeply uneasy, and like anyone else, he held his already faint breath, as if waiting for something.

It felt as though he was in a dream when Shen Qingxuan heard faint footsteps. They were so subtle, almost unreal, making it difficult to tell if they were from a dream or reality. He even wondered if the long-awaited Ox-Head and Horse-Face had finally arrived to take his soul on the road to the underworld.

But what he didn’t know was that the only reason he still had a breath left was because a man in the corner had cast a spell.

In this daze, Shen Qingxuan distinctly felt something cold fall on his forehead. It was something soft yet firm, broad and cold, covering his entire forehead.

Shen Qingxuan found the shape of this object very familiar, but for the moment, he couldn’t recall what it was.

Just as he was straining his mind to figure it out, he heard a voice by his ear: “Your destiny is quite strong; you are destined for a life of wealth.”

In his muddled state, Shen Qingxuan thought this person had a deep, pleasant voice. But then, he suddenly realized that the cold object on his forehead was a hand.

How could it be this cold? It was so cold that he almost didn’t recognize it. Before he could think it through, Shen Qingxuan wondered whose destiny the person was talking about.

“You,” the voice responded quickly, as if reading his mind.

Shen Qingxuan’s thoughts momentarily stalled, then drifted again, thinking this person was speaking nonsense. If his destiny were truly strong, how could he have ended up in this state?

“Your destiny is too prosperous; it has only attracted vile people,” the person said casually.

Hearing this, Shen Qingxuan seemed to have touched on a sensitive topic and no longer argued, falling silent.

The person also paused, scrutinizing Shen Qingxuan’s face before continuing, “Shen Qingxuan, how about I spare your life today?”

Although Shen Qingxuan was hanging by a thread, his mind still had a place of clarity, and he was well aware of the strangeness of this person’s appearance, which didn’t feel like a dream. His heart was already filled with anxiety as he speculated on countless possibilities, but he had never expected the person to say such a thing. He was stunned again. Instinctively, he thought to himself, his condition had long been beyond saving—only a god could save him now.

Could it be… that this person was a god?

The thought was not unreasonable, but it struck him as somewhat absurd.

“I’m a demon,” the deep, pleasant voice sounded again. This time, Shen Qingxuan realized the person wasn’t speaking by his ear but rather directly in his mind.

A demon? What kind of demon?

Though Shen Qingxuan had already resigned himself to his fate, he couldn’t help but be startled. However, the shock wasn’t overwhelming, and he instinctively asked.

“The snake that bit you today was me,” the person’s tone was extremely calm, as if such a revelation was nothing out of the ordinary. As a snake, cultivating into a demon, biting a person—it was something he admitted to without care, with a very detached attitude.

His frankness left Shen Qingxuan at a loss for how to respond. If he could move at this moment, he would probably have furrowed his brows.

After a moment, Shen Qingxuan remembered the earlier words and realized that this snake could indeed save his life.

But he couldn’t help but think, so it’s a snake demon. No wonder his hand was so cold.

Notes –

There are a few cultural and narrative elements in this chapter that might benefit from further explanation-

### 1. **Ox-Head and Horse-Face (牛头马面):**

   – **Explanation:** In Chinese mythology, Ox-Head and Horse-Face are the guardians of the underworld, often depicted as the first beings a soul encounters after death. They are responsible for escorting souls to the afterlife, where they will face judgment. Shen Qingxuan’s reference to them reflects his awareness that he is on the brink of death and expects to encounter these mythological figures soon.

### 2. **Destiny and Fate (命格):**

   – **Explanation:** The concept of “命格” (mìnggé) in Chinese culture refers to a person’s destiny or fate, often believed to be predetermined and influenced by cosmic forces. The demon’s comment about Shen Qingxuan’s destiny being “旺” (wàng, meaning prosperous or strong) suggests that Shen Qingxuan was born with a fortunate fate, which paradoxically has led to envy and harm from others. This reflects a common theme in Chinese literature, where those with great fortune or destiny often attract trouble or jealousy.

### 3. **Paper Money and Funeral Rites:**

   – **Explanation:** The mention of “纸钱” (zhǐqián, paper money) and other funeral items such as “白幡麻布” (báifān mábù, white mourning flags and coarse linen) reflects traditional Chinese funeral practices. Paper money is burned during funerals as an offering to the deceased, intended to provide them with money in the afterlife. White is the color of mourning in Chinese culture, in contrast to the Western tradition of black, and the preparations of these items indicate that Shen Qingxuan’s family is ready for his impending death.