Encountering a Snake - Chapter 6

The next day, the rain abruptly ceased, and the sky cleared.

The flowers in the courtyard, having endured several days of wind and rain, inevitably began to wither. However, more verdant leaves emerged, and among them, small flower buds had just started to grow. Judging by their appearance, in three to five days, the trees would once again be covered with blossoms.

Shen Qingxuan sat in the courtyard, inhaling the earthy fragrance in the air as he gazed into the distance. After several days without seeing it, the entire mountain forest had been washed by the rain into a deep, lush green, gleaming with a gem-like luster.

He sat until noon, when the sun became scorching, causing sweat to pour from his body, as if all the heat stored over the past few days had erupted at once. The heat made the birds in the forest droop their heads in exhaustion.

Shen Qingxuan squinted up at the blazing sun in the sky, but in an instant, his vision turned white. He quickly closed his eyes to let them rest, feeling a sense of frustration in his heart. He thought helplessly, “Now that the old demon has left, the sun dares to come out.”

This thought made him chuckle to himself. He leaned back in his chair and sighed softly.

He remained seated there until the afternoon.

The sunlight stretched the shadow of his lone figure in the wheelchair into a long, drawn-out silhouette.

It had been more than a month since Yi Mo left, and there had been no news during this time.

Shen Qingxuan pretended that he was unaware of Yi Mo’s departure, refusing to think about it. However, in rare moments when his thoughts wandered, Yi Mo’s image would flash in his mind, and he’d wonder if he had found the snake’s skin and how long it would be before he returned to the mountain. As soon as these thoughts arose, he would forcibly suppress them, unwilling to bring more trouble upon himself.

In this way, the past month had been relatively peaceful.

In the second month, just after the seventh day, Shen Qingxuan flipped through the calendar. The ink marks he had made stood out clearly, reminding him that his mother’s birthday was approaching. He pondered over what to give her as a birthday gift, feeling somewhat troubled.

Noticing his master’s gloomy expression, the servant by his side guessed what was on his mind and shared in his melancholy for a few days. Finally, the servant suggested, “Young Master, why not gather some wild goods from the mountain and personally cook a bowl of longevity noodles for the old madam as a birthday present?”

Shen Qingxuan thought it over and agreed with the suggestion.

Old Madam Shen was a devout Buddhist who abstained from meat, a fact well known to everyone. The mountain was full of fresh mushrooms, especially bamboo shoots that sprouted after the rain, which were abundant and easy to find.

Shen Qingxuan had a large basket of them picked, sorted, and stored. He then went into the kitchen to knead and roll out the dough.

After several days of effort, he finally managed to roll out a single long noodle without breaking it. The day of Old Madam Shen’s birthday had arrived.

He prepared a pot of mushroom broth, sliced the fresh bamboo shoots and drizzled them with sauce, and packed everything in a food box. He instructed a servant to deliver it down the mountain, emphasizing that the longevity noodles must be cooked only after reaching the mansion, with the mushroom broth poured over them.

The servant, carrying the food box and a basket of wild mountain goods, set off down the mountain.

Shen Qingxuan escorted him to the gate, watching the servant’s figure disappear into the distance, lost in thought for a long time.

A maid standing nearby saw him like this and felt a deep sense of sorrow. After a while, she softly said, “Young Master, since you miss the old madam so much, why not go down the mountain and deliver it yourself? Seeing you would make her even happier.”

Shen Qingxuan snapped out of his thoughts. Hearing this, his expression remained unchanged. He shook his head slightly and gestured for her to push him back to his room.

The servant hurried down the mountain with the food box and other items, arriving at the Shen residence just as the sun began to set. Upon hearing of his arrival, Shen Qingxuan’s mother came forward, and upon seeing the food in the box, tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe them, murmuring to herself, “My son is so filial.”

The clever servant, bowing low, spoke a few auspicious words, adding, “This noodle was handmade by the young master himself. He sent me to deliver it and instructed that it must be cooked only after reaching the household. Would you like to eat it now, madam?”

Shen Qingxuan’s mother nodded and went into the kitchen. She watched as the cook boiled the water and put the long noodle into the pot. When it was done, it was placed in a bowl, with the warm mushroom broth poured over it. The hot noodle, once coated in the broth, was just right for eating—not too cold, not too hot.

After eating the noodles, Old Madam Shen called the servant to reward him and instructed, “When you return, tell Xuan’er that his mother understands his feelings. In the past, every time he came home, I cried, and it only made his heart ache more. Now that he has not come down the mountain, I do not blame him. Let him rest well on the mountain. I do not expect him to become a merchant or official; I only wish for him to live a peaceful life.” She then clasped her hands together and prayed for Buddha’s blessing before leaving in tears.

The servant received a generous reward, which he tucked into his pocket. When he returned to the mountain, he faithfully relayed Shen Qingxuan’s mother’s words. He was rewarded once more and happily withdrew.

Life in the mountains passed slowly, especially in summer, with long days and short nights.

Shen Qingxuan also felt that time was dragging on. During the day, he would sit under a tree in a daze for a long time, and when he opened his eyes again, the bright sun was still overhead.

He didn’t know how the time had slipped by, but one day, when he pushed open the window, the scent of osmanthus flowers suddenly filled his nostrils, startling him. Was it already August?

In August, during the Mid-Autumn Festival, chrysanthemums bloom, crabs are fat, and the fragrance of osmanthus fills the air.

Shen Qingxuan became interested and ordered the courtyard to be washed with clean water and the ground to be covered with fine sand. When the evening cooled, he called the servants, maids, cooks, and old servants together, setting up three or four tables of food and drink. They cooked dozens of large, plump crabs, placed them in the center, and heated some wine, inviting everyone to enjoy the moon and feast.

The servants in the mountain courtyard were not as strictly managed as those in the mansion and were somewhat wild by nature. Seeing their master in such a rare good mood, they immediately began to eat and talk.

Shen Qingxuan sat at a table with a few close servants, smiling at their jokes. The servants, seeing their master so cheerful, became even more excited, telling one joke after another. Some were quite crude, and Shen Qingxuan laughed so much he lost his composure, rewarding them with drinks afterward.

After three cups of yellow wine, one of the servants became rather pleased with himself, and his jokes grew more uninhibited. They began to talk wildly, ranging from the absurd to the mystical, recounting stories of gods, demons, and spirits. The tales of tragic scholars and loyal demons or spirits who made vows under the moonlight were their favorite topics. Once one servant started, the others followed, each story more poignant and entangled than the last.

The courtyard buzzed with excitement.

The revelry continued until the third watch of the night, with everyone in the courtyard showing signs of drunkenness. Shen Qingxuan, in high spirits, drank a few more cups and became somewhat dazed. His personal maid, still sober, escorted him back to his room to rest. Shen Qingxuan lay in bed and sent her back to the courtyard to continue drinking with the others, choosing to rest alone.

After the maid closed the door and left, Shen Qingxuan felt the effects of the alcohol, feeling quite uncomfortable. Yet, his mind became clearer. He could faintly hear the sounds of merriment from outside slipping through the window slats and door cracks, seeming both near and far, real and unreal, filling him with a sense of melancholy.

He couldn’t help but think of Yi Mo, wondering where he was, what he was doing, whether he had found the snake’s skin, and whether he had had any wine during the Mid-Autumn Festival… Did he ever think of him, of the times they spent together, chatting by candlelight?

As he was lost in these thoughts, a delicate female voice suddenly called out beside his ear, “Young Master.”

Shen Qingxuan’s eyes flew open, but no one was there. He almost thought he had misheard, pausing for a moment before abruptly pulling back the bed curtains.

Not far away, a woman in red stood gracefully, her hair piled high, her face flushed, and her features as delicate as a painting, exuding an indescribable charm.

She gazed at him with tender affection.

Shen Qingxuan stared at her in a daze for a long while, watching as her cheeks grew redder, her expression more enchanting.

Thinking he was in a dream, Shen Qingxuan quickly pinched himself, feeling a sharp pain that brought him back to reality. He suddenly realized that this woman was not a mortal but either a celestial being or a demon. His heart filled with caution.

The woman took slow, delicate steps toward his bed and lowered her head shyly. “As you have guessed, I am indeed a flower spirit from this mountain. After years of receiving your careful care, I have finally attained human form. Just now, while you were drinking in the courtyard, you spilled some wine on me. Do you remember?”

Shen Qingxuan listened in a daze, trying to recall. He vaguely remembered that something like this had happened, and indeed, it was a cluster of *Feng Qiu* flowers.

The woman lowered her fair neck, softly saying, “That was me.”

Only then did Shen Qingxuan come to his senses, though he was still puzzled by her intentions, so he looked at her suspiciously.

“I owe my current form to your kindness,” she continued, her face blushing even more beautifully. Her voice grew softer, barely above a whisper. “I have come tonight to repay you.”

She spoke so lightly, her eyes downcast in embarrassment, that Shen Qingxuan, usually quick-witted, immediately understood her meaning. He blushed deeply, his ears turning red, unsure of how to respond.

Both of them were overcome with shyness, and the flickering candlelight created an intimate atmosphere.

The woman, still blushing, did not dare to raise her head. She slowly loosened her red robe, then lay down beside him, snuggling into his arms.

With such warmth and softness in his embrace, how could Shen Qingxuan remain unmoved?

Naturally, he was stirred, but he also hesitated. The matter between men and women was not something to be taken lightly. Although he was born into a merchant family, he had been educated since the age of three by renowned teachers, learning poetry, literature, and etiquette. He had never engaged in frivolous behavior. While he had thought about such matters, due to his physical condition, he had long since abandoned the idea.

Tonight, this woman was as beautiful as a flower, though she was a spirit, her intentions were pure. Despite his affection, Shen Qingxuan dared not act rashly.

After considering all this, he gradually regained his composure, but the woman did not relent. Her soft body entwined with his under the covers.

Unable to speak, Shen Qingxuan could only push her away, but she timidly clung to him again. He pushed her away once more, and she came back again.

After several rounds of this, the two, being young and vibrant, with passions ignited like dry kindling, eventually found themselves consumed by the flames.

Shen Qingxuan’s mind was foggy, and as he reached the critical moment, he suddenly felt the warmth in his arms turn cold, as if an icy hand had touched his forehead. The soft moans he had heard before were nowhere to be found, replaced by a low, deep voice whispering in his ear, “Shen Gongzi, truly you are of ancient refinement, naturally elegant.”

Shen Qingxuan was shocked awake, his body trembling slightly. He opened his eyes abruptly.

The surroundings were the same, with no one around. The bed was still a few steps away, the pillows and bedding neatly arranged, with no sign of disturbance.

Shen Qingxuan felt sweat drip down his forehead, yet his whole body was cold, as if still entwined by that icy figure from his dream.

Looking down, he realized he was sitting in a bathtub, the water already cold.

It turned out he had fallen asleep while bathing and had just experienced an erotic dream.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Shen Qingxuan shook his head in amusement and raised his arm to ring the bell to call for someone.

But in that instant, his eyes caught sight of something in the water. His outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and he stared blankly at the thin strands of white floating in the water before him.

He had… released his essence.

There are a few cultural and contextual elements in this chapter that might need further explanation-

1. **Mid-Autumn Festival (中秋节):**

   – This is a traditional Chinese festival celebrated on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, often involving moon worship, family gatherings, and the eating of mooncakes. The festival is associated with themes of reunion and gratitude, which are subtly reflected in the chapter as Shen Qingxuan organizes a feast for his household to celebrate under the full moon.

2. **Longevity Noodles (长寿面):**

   – The noodles Shen Qingxuan makes for his mother’s birthday symbolize long life and good health. It’s a common tradition in Chinese culture to eat these noodles during birthdays and other auspicious occasions.

3. **Flower Spirit (花魅):**

   – The concept of a flower spirit, or *hua mei* in this chapter, ties into Chinese folklore where it’s believed that after many years of cultivation and receiving care, plants or flowers can take on a human form. This idea reflects the deep connection between nature and spirituality in Chinese culture.