Encountering a Snake - Chapter 8

The distant sky gradually brightened.

The hot spring was located at the mountain’s summit, so when the first rays of light appeared on the horizon, they fell directly into the spring.

Shen Qingxuan felt a force holding him up, keeping him afloat in the water without sinking.

Soaking in the natural hot spring was nothing like being confined to a cramped wooden tub. Shen Qingxuan soaked in the water, feeling so comfortable that he wanted to sigh.

After a while, Yi Mo also removed his robe and stepped into the water.

The rippling waves stirred as Shen Qingxuan slightly opened his eyes, watching the man with long, loose hair wade closer. The air, thick with the scent of sulfur, was now tinged with a sharp, cold fragrance, close enough to touch.

Shen Qingxuan opened his mouth to speak but suddenly remembered that he couldn’t make a sound. With no pen or ink nearby, there was no way to communicate. His good mood was instantly dampened. After all, they hadn’t seen each other for so long, and now that they were finally face-to-face again, they couldn’t even talk. It was quite disheartening, and Shen Qingxuan’s expression grew gloomy.

Yi Mo, soaking in the water, looked at him for a moment before finally raising his hand. His cold fingers emitted a faint green glow as he touched Shen Qingxuan’s throat.

Shen Qingxuan watched his movements, feeling as if his throat had been drenched inside and out with mint juice. He couldn’t tell if it was burning or chilling, but the sensation was so intense that it brought tears to his eyes.

When Yi Mo withdrew his hand, Shen Qingxuan’s vision filled with a blinding light. The feeling of suffocation was unbearable, causing Shen Qingxuan to clutch his throat and cough desperately.

At first, the coughing was silent, but soon his throat emitted a hoarse, strange sound that gradually grew louder. Eventually, each cough sounded just like that of an ordinary person.

He—he could cough aloud. Shen Qingxuan realized this, unsure whether to be shocked or delighted. All he knew was that streams of tears flowed from the corners of his eyes, accompanying the coughing sounds that echoed through the lonely mountain peak and the mist-shrouded hot spring.

It felt as though he was coughing up his lungs. Shen Qingxuan’s eyes were bloodshot as he hunched over, nearly choking on the hot spring water several times. Exhausted, he slumped against a protruding rock, gasping for air.

Yi Mo leaned against a rock opposite him, his arms casually draped over the sides, watching him with an indifferent gaze. After a while, he closed his eyes to rest, leaving Shen Qingxuan to cough and wheeze as if on the brink of death.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Shen Qingxuan finally stopped coughing. Once he had caught his breath, he turned to look back and saw the scene before him.

In the misty hot spring water, Yi Mo leaned against a protruding rock, arms stretched out like a figure in the shape of the Chinese character “大” (dà). His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, his expression serene, as if nothing in the world concerned him.

Only his long, loose hair floated on the water in front of him, occasionally swaying with the gentle waves.

Other than that, he seemed like a statue—cold, indifferent, and unmoved.

Shen Qingxuan watched him, feeling inexplicably sad.

Because of this vague sadness, even though Shen Qingxuan had regained his voice, he didn’t speak. He just stared at Yi Mo without blinking.

Though they were only a few steps apart, the mist rising from the hot spring was like a thin veil, faintly separating them. Behind that veil was Yi Mo’s face.

Just like the first time he saw Yi Mo’s face, Shen Qingxuan couldn’t tear his eyes away. He thought to himself that there wasn’t another person in the world with such unparalleled grace.

As he gazed, Yi Mo’s tightly shut eyelashes fluttered, and then he opened his eyes. His eyes were deep and quiet, like a thousand-foot-deep cold pool, without a single ripple.

Yi Mo asked calmly, “Why are you unhappy?”

Shen Qingxuan thought to himself, *How do you know I’m unhappy?* But he didn’t say it aloud. He continued to look at Yi Mo for a long while before finally replying, “Of course I’m happy.”

It had been nearly twenty years since he last spoke. His voice was raspy, unfamiliar even to himself. He had to listen closely and recall his childhood voice to be sure that this sound was indeed coming from him.

“I…” Shen Qingxuan tentatively spoke again, startled by the sound that emerged from his throat. After a moment, he reminded himself to speak more naturally, and then slowly said, “I thought you wouldn’t return for another two months.”

“It’s done, so I naturally returned,” Yi Mo said.

Shen Qingxuan responded with a soft “Mm,” lowered his head, and after a moment of thought, spoke again, “For some reason, I don’t want anyone to know that I can speak again…”

Yi Mo nodded, indicating his understanding.

“If they ask how I regained my voice, I’m not good at lying,” Shen Qingxuan said, carefully choosing his words while practicing his pronunciation. “So, I don’t plan on telling them just yet.”

After a pause, he added, “Did you retrieve the snake molt?”

Yi Mo replied, “Yes.”

“That’s good,” Shen Qingxuan said.

After that, he didn’t know what else to say, so he lowered his head and fell silent.

Yi Mo withdrew his arms into the water, remaining silent for a while before finally asking, “How did you get sick this time?”

Shen Qingxuan hadn’t expected this question. After hesitating for a moment, he recounted the events in detail, naturally leaving out the part about the vivid dream. He blamed it on drinking too much, falling asleep while bathing, and not realizing the water had turned cold. That’s how he fell ill.

Yi Mo listened, then lifted his eyes to gaze at Shen Qingxuan for a moment. Whatever he was thinking, he finally said, “Even the young ladies in their boudoirs wouldn’t be so careless.”

Though his words were vague, Shen Qingxuan immediately grasped the teasing undertone. His face flushed with embarrassment and anger. Yi Mo was comparing him to a delicate, sheltered girl!

It was infuriating that Shen Qingxuan’s verbal skills weren’t as sharp as Yi Mo’s, especially since he had only just regained his voice. Compared to this thousand-year-old serpent, he was hopelessly outmatched.

After thinking for a long time, Shen Qingxuan retorted indignantly, “Of course, I can’t compare to someone with scales and thick armor.”

The implication was clear—he didn’t have Yi Mo’s thick skin, impervious to harm.

The two of them continued their verbal sparring while soaking in the water, neither feeling bored. As the night gradually faded, the light grew brighter, and the sun rose magnificently, illuminating their faces.

Shen Qingxuan’s speech became increasingly fluent and natural. As he spoke with joy, he used the buoyancy of the water to move closer to Yi Mo, intending to converse as they had done in the past.

As he drew nearer, he suddenly realized that the bright sunlight made the water crystal clear. Both of them were completely unclothed, and everything beneath the water was vividly visible.

Shen Qingxuan’s face turned bright red. He felt ashamed of his frail body, which, compared to Yi Mo’s strong physique, looked more like that of a boy who hadn’t yet reached adulthood, with thin arms and legs that were frankly unattractive. He quickly lowered his head and, using the rock for support, tried to move back a little. In his flustered state, his fingers slipped on the smooth, water-slick rock, and he lost his balance, plunging into the water. The warm spring water immediately submerged him.

Yi Mo, having already guessed Shen Qingxuan’s thoughts from his movements in the water, saw him lose his balance and sink. Finding the situation amusing, he didn’t rush to help, knowing that he wouldn’t drown.

Struggling underwater, Shen Qingxuan flailed his arms in search of something to hold on to, growing anxious as Yi Mo still hadn’t reached out to help. In his panic, he opened his eyes underwater.

What he saw were a pair of strong legs—long and muscular—with the calf muscles slightly tensed, their lines clearly defined.

His gaze followed the legs upward, and amidst the dark patch of hair between them, which moved slightly with the water’s flow like seaweed, lay a quietly coiled object. Even though it was not erect, due to the refracted light in the water, the thing appeared extraordinarily large.

The soft, rounded shape of the head was faintly visible, and even the small opening in the middle was clearly discernible.

Shen Qingxuan didn’t know where he found the strength, but he managed to push himself up out of the water with a loud splash.

His face was bright red, and his heart was pounding like a drum.

He couldn’t tell if it was from choking or something else.

With one hand on the rock and the other wiping the water from his face, Shen Qingxuan looked up and met a pair of eyes that seemed to be smiling mockingly.

His heart pounded so hard it was almost uncontrollable. After choking on a few mouthfuls of water, he quickly lowered his head and started coughing, trying to calm his racing heart.

At that moment, he heard Yi Mo’s cold voice, with a hint of teasing, say beside his ear, “Master Shen, how does the taste of this hot spring water compare to your Mid-Autumn wine?”

Shen Qingxuan now knew that this serpent liked to tease him. There was no hidden meaning in his words, just pure mockery. Yet, his mind couldn’t help but flash back to that cold body entwining with his in the icy bath on that night. And to the sight he had just seen.

His gaze instinctively drifted back into the water, and before he knew it, they had drawn much closer. This time, Shen Qingxuan clearly saw that sizable object once again.

Suddenly, a phrase popped into his head: *A serpent’s nature is inherently lecherous.*

These words seemed to burrow into his heart like a worm, stirring up unknown thoughts and causing an intense wave of desire to surge through him.

Shen Qingxuan could clearly feel his heart, which had been calming down, start to race again. It was like a torrential downpour on the tiles of a mountain, chaotic and erratic, yet growing louder and more frantic.

Unable to hold back any longer, he watched helplessly as the years of his disciplined, abstinent life were swept away.

Shen Qingxuan abruptly turned around, gasping for breath, and hurriedly bent over, pressing himself against the rock at the water’s edge to hide his legs in the shadowy water below. He then claimed he wasn’t feeling well and needed to lie down for a while. After saying this, he buried his head in the crook of his arm, taking quick, shallow breaths to suppress the surging desire within him.

Yi Mo remained motionless, his gaze deep and intent as he watched the slender, trembling figure hunched over the rock. That body, pale and frail, seemed to shiver as if it had been severely frightened. The ripples in the water around him expanded with his trembling, like invisible threads drawing Yi Mo’s attention to every slight movement in the water, the raging desire, and the sudden panic—he took it all in.

Like a deity looking down on mortals.

After a long silence, Shen Qingxuan finally lifted his head from his arms, but he didn’t dare look at Yi Mo. His gaze remained lowered as he softly said, “Take me back.”

Yi Mo didn’t respond for a long time.

Shen Qingxuan was already in a state of anxiety when he suddenly felt a chill on his shoulder. Yi Mo had somehow moved behind him without his notice. He placed a cold hand on Shen Qingxuan’s shoulder, turning him around to face him. And as if that wasn’t enough, he continued to close the distance between them.

In an instant, their faces were inches apart, their breaths mingling on each other’s faces, making Shen Qingxuan blush even more.

“Master Shen,” Yi Mo’s voice was still cold, without a trace of emotion, as if he were discussing someone else’s affairs. He spoke slowly and deliberately, “Since ancient times, humans and demons have walked different paths. You should think carefully.”

Shen Qingxuan’s face alternated between red and white.

But before he could react further, he suddenly felt a rush of wind in his ears.

In the blink of an eye, he was back in the mountain villa, lying on his own bed.

It was as if he had been thrown back. The flush on Shen Qingxuan’s face instantly faded, replaced by a deathly pallor.