Encountering a Snake - Chapter 28

V3C28

Xu Mingshi paced back and forth in the courtyard for a long time before deciding to go in and comfort the person inside, even though comforting others was not his strength.

Entering the room, Xu Mingshi sat cross-legged on the ground beside Liu Yan, shoulder to shoulder, and said, “Look, the sun is shining beautifully outside. Shall we go bask in the sunlight?”

The expression on Liu Yan’s face finally shifted slightly. He glanced sideways at Xu for a moment, then stood up, dusted off his sleeves, and walked out.

He boiled some water, brewed a pot of tea, brought out a few plates of snacks, placed them on the stone table in the courtyard, pulled over two bamboo chairs, and said seriously, “Let’s bask in the sun.”

It was a sunny afternoon. The leaves rustled in the breeze, birds hopped and chirped on the branches, and various insects made their sounds from hidden corners.

The entire courtyard was thus enveloped in a profound, silent cacophony.

Holding the hot tea Liu Yan handed him, Xu Mingshi suddenly felt a sense of calm. The chaotic thoughts stirred by his earlier inability to find comforting words vanished instantly. He realized that Liu Yan might not need anyone’s comfort. Liu Yan already understood all the reasoning in his heart. It was just that reason couldn’t overcome emotion, which was why he did so many things, knowing they were futile but doing them anyway.

Thinking this, Xu Mingshi stayed silent. Beside him, Liu Yan tilted his head to look at the distant mountains and forests, then spoke slowly, “Fortunately, I’m not alone right now.”

Xu Mingshi was momentarily stunned and turned to look at him. That was almost a tone of gratitude. He thought, Shen Qingxuan must also have moments of loneliness like this, and it is because of such loneliness that one feels grateful for the presence of another person.

Everyone has moments like this, feeling as though they’ve been abandoned by the heavens and earth. Xu Mingshi smiled and said, “I’ve always thought I was old and useless. Now it seems I’m not entirely without value.”

Liu Yan nodded, smiled, and took a sip of tea. He had been planning for the family to go on a trip together in spring, but that plan had been put on hold because of Xu Mingshi’s unexpected arrival. Now he was still here on this mountain, and at this moment, his family was all gone. The only one left beside him was Xu Mingshi.

Luckily, there was still Xu Mingshi. Liu Yan thought that it was precisely because someone was there, trying to offer comfort and solace, that he could sit here now, basking in the sunlight and sipping tea.

“Shen Qingxuan,” Xu Mingshi said, “I’ve never told you about my past.”

“What past?” Liu Yan asked.

“I once had someone I liked,” Xu Mingshi said.

Perhaps it was because the sunlight was so pleasant, or perhaps it was a shared sense of sorrow. Xu Mingshi openly brought out the shadows he had long buried deep in his heart, exposing them under the bright light, and said softly, “It was a long time ago.”

Indeed, it was a very long time ago. Xu Mingshi couldn’t even recall the exact dates—the dynasty, the day.

All he remembered was a rainy night when he was still young. Though not impulsive anymore, he was still youthful. At the time, he had heard about a village plagued by a demon harming people and livestock. Thinking it was some powerful monster, he packed up numerous magical tools and rushed over, only to find a snow-white rabbit spirit hiding in a shabby farmhouse, munching on a half-eaten carrot and sleeping soundly while taking shelter from the rain.

Xu Mingshi smiled as he recounted this to Liu Yan and said, “Back then, you told me that not all spirits are evil, and humans aren’t always good. So, I spared her life.”

“And then?” Liu Yan asked.

Then the rabbit spirit followed him, traveling far and wide.

She was a beautiful girl with a pair of prominent front teeth. Shy and timid, she would hide and tremble at the slightest disturbance. She knew she was a spirit, and that exorcists existed to subdue spirits. By nature, they were supposed to be mortal enemies. Yet, because of his act of mercy, this rabbit spirit developed an attachment to him. At first, she followed him from a distance, taking one step forward and two steps back. Gradually, she realized that the man ahead would leave her two vegetarian buns at mealtime and request an extra room at inns for her when they rested. She grew bolder and began to walk closer and closer.

Until one day, they could walk side by side in broad daylight.

Young Xu Mingshi traveled with this little spirit, helping those in need and vanquishing demons. As a result, many people came to know of a Xu surnamed exorcist from Qingyun Mountain, a gallant young hero. They also knew that this exorcist had a beautiful companion by his side.

At this point, Xu Mingshi paused, his tone carrying a tinge of sorrow.

“Until that day, my sect sent a message summoning me back. At the time, I was traveling with her in the wilderness, having trekked through mountains and forests for two days. There was a demon bear on the mountain…,” Xu Mingshi said slowly. “I told her to go down to the inn and wait for me while I went to the sect. I said I’d be back soon.”

Liu Yan didn’t press further.

Life is full of unexpected events, some joyous, others tragic. Clearly, the one Xu Mingshi encountered was the latter.

The mountains were drenched in rain. It was pouring that day when Xu Mingshi left after giving his instructions. The rabbit spirit stood under a banana leaf, watching his figure disappear in the distance. She knew she couldn’t accompany him back to his sect. She was merely a spirit—or perhaps not even a spirit, as spirits were said to possess great powers. She was only a creature who had cultivated for five hundred years to take on human form, her abilities so feeble that she couldn’t help Xu Mingshi in any way and sometimes even became a burden.

Using the banana leaf as an umbrella, the rabbit spirit, troubled with thoughts, headed down the mountain. The leaf was too small for her form, and like a playful child, she reverted to her original form, using her meager powers to float the leaf above her for shelter.

The wind was fierce, and the rain struck diagonally, drenching her fur. The smell of wet animal attracted the mountain’s demon bear.

Five days later, Xu Mingshi returned from the sect, searching everywhere but unable to find the girl who was supposed to wait for him at the inn. Turning back, he went to the desolate ridge with a mixture of hope and despair. There, beneath a large tree, he found a filthy, ruined rabbit carcass. Its once snowy-white fur was stained with blood and dirt, its small body hollowed out and robbed of its inner core, crawling with maggots and swarming flies.

In his hands was a mutilated corpse, but its once-bright eyes remained open, as if waiting for someone.

Lowering his head, Xu Mingshi looked at his hands, withered and yellowed with age. Despite the passage of time and the changes in the world, he could still feel the heart-wrenching pain of holding that decayed body.

A hand patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. Xu Mingshi looked up, realizing his eyes were brimming with tears.

“Shen Qingxuan, you’ve suffered greatly, but you’ve always known what you wanted,” Xu Mingshi murmured. “Unlike me, who only realized after she was gone that I loved her.”

Liu Yan cleared his throat. Despite the bright sun and pleasant weather, an inexplicable sorrow filled the air.

After a long while, Liu Yan said, “You’ve already given up on immortality. In the next life, you’ll surely meet her again.”

Xu Mingshi’s aged face broke into a childlike smile. His tone was filled with joy as he said, “I think so too. In the next life, I will definitely meet her.”

In the next life, I must meet her and say I like her.

Liu Yan closed his eyes, leaned back against the bamboo chair, his expression tranquil, his heart at peace.

Yes, at any time, one must hold on to hope.

Hold on to hope and wait.

Shen Jue sat on a protruding rock, slightly raising his head to look into the distance. The sun was setting, the clouds drifting, and an eagle soared in the sky.

Finally, there was a rustling sound from the grass. Shen Jue glanced over and saw a mottled white snake slithering out from the grass, clearly “well-fed and satisfied,” its movements lazy. Shen Jue waited for a moment, and when the black snake still didn’t appear, he picked up a branch and poked apart the clump of grass.

Inside, he saw a tangled mess of black and white, and only after careful observation could he discern three snakes entwined together. The black snake he was looking for had its tail interlocked with another, while a third snake seemed unwilling to give up and was entangled with them as well.

Shen Jue observed for a while and identified the group as one female and two males. Seeing their tight embrace in such indecent positions under the broad daylight, he couldn’t help but grumble silently, “Snakes are inherently lewd!” Throwing away the branch in frustration, he stood aside, annoyed.

It wasn’t until the next morning that the satisfied black snake leisurely slithered over to Shen Jue, lingered around his legs for a moment, and then decisively climbed up his body. Shen Jue snorted, picked it up, and wrapped it around his wrist, striding back home with a quick pace. Anger simmered in his heart: while you were here indulging yourself, do you know how miserable that person at home has been?

Fueled by his irritation, Shen Jue sped up, the wind howling past him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the mottled white snake and suddenly realized that it was one of the snakes from the previous day. Clarity struck him—it turned out there were three males and one female in that mess. A hint of malice surfaced in his mind: Go on, indulge yourself. That mother snake might not even bear your offspring!

Shen Jue knew he was letting himself get worked up over nothing. Why should he care about a snake? Even if it successfully spread its seed, neither he nor his father would raise the little ones. Yet he couldn’t suppress the indignation welling up inside him, as if he himself had been wronged. If not for his remaining rationality, he would have strangled it right then and there.

—You’re just taking advantage of the fact that you’re a snake!

Arriving at the front door, Shen Jue took a deep breath and calmed his emotions. With a broad smile, he pushed open the gate and called out loudly, “Dad, I’m back!”

Liu Yan had moved his bamboo chair under the shade of a tree to read, while Xu Mingshi crouched nearby, poking at an anthill with a twig. They both turned their heads at the sound and looked at him. Liu Yan said, “Hungry.”

Shen Jue didn’t get annoyed. He dropped the black snake to the ground, letting it slither around freely, then rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands and went to the kitchen to prepare food.

The black snake, back home, looked around and found everything unchanged. Overjoyed, it went straight to Liu Yan and clung to him like an affectionate stray dog, showing no memory of the time it had bitten him. Liu Yan seemed to have forgotten it too, cradling it in his arms while continuing to read.

Xu Mingshi, who had expected some sort of confrontation, found that everything was as usual and couldn’t help but fall into a daze. While he was spacing out, the disturbed ants scattered in all directions around his feet, some crawling under his shoes, only to get crushed. Xu Mingshi quickly moved aside to give them space, leaving a footprint in the yellow earth. But the ants didn’t seem grateful; they sniffed around the footprint, then detoured away.

Xu Mingshi thought: Are my shoes that smelly? Feeling a bit disheartened, he stood up and looked around before heading into the kitchen.

Shen Jue was washing vegetables. When he saw Xu Mingshi enter, he ignored him. Xu Mingshi awkwardly stood to the side, watching as Shen Jue washed fresh greens, quickly rinsed the rice, and tended to the fire until the fragrance of rice filled the air. Shen Jue then began slicing meat.

Xu Mingshi stood for a long while. Finding himself unacknowledged, he finally sighed and said, “Can’t you just call me uncle? What’s the harm?”

Shen Jue paused, put down the knife, and walked out without a word.

Alone in the smoky kitchen, Xu Mingshi felt utterly dejected.

Soon, footsteps echoed as Shen Jue returned. Xu Mingshi hung his head in frustration.

Until Shen Jue beckoned him over. On the wooden table where vegetables were placed, he set down a bundle he had been carrying.

Shen Jue opened the bundle he had kept close for three hundred years.

Blue cloth wrapped layer upon layer. Xu Mingshi couldn’t guess what could be so precious to Shen Jue.

Finally, Shen Jue unfolded the last layer to reveal a wooden box. Its dark red hue spoke of its age.

Opening the box, Shen Jue took out its contents one by one. With each item revealed, Xu Mingshi grew more bewildered.

He recognized every item—a carved wooden shepherd boy, a bamboo cricket cage, a whittled wooden knife, a small riding whip—all childhood trinkets.

And every one of them was something he had brought back to the Shen family during his travels, packed in his satchel, to delight a child.

Shen Jue displayed these items, all preserved and barely damaged, though time had dulled their sheen.

“They shaved my parents’ heads to carve their guilt,” Shen Jue said calmly. “I can’t call you uncle; it would dishonor them.”

Xu Mingshi raised his eyes, silent.

“You were good to me,” Shen Jue said, “and I remember it. I dare not forget it for a single day.”

After a pause, Shen Jue carefully packed the items back into the wooden box, wrapping it layer by layer, setting it aside. “People make mistakes in life. Not every mistake needs forgiveness to be resolved.”

Shen Jue continued, “Xu Mingshi, after all these years, haven’t you let it go?”

The aroma of food drifted into the courtyard. After the meal, Xu Mingshi said, “I’ll be leaving for a while.”