Encountering a Snake - Chapter 6

v3c6

Even after his name was changed, Liu Yan still remained cheerfully carefree. His mind was simple and couldn’t handle complicated matters. Over the years, Yi Mo had told him many stories about their past lives—Shen Qingxuan, Ji Jiu, Liu Yan. The love, hatred, and grievances intertwined, the unfulfilled desires—all of it was beyond Liu Yan’s comprehension.

So, after hearing it all, Liu Yan very simply categorized his past lives into two kinds of people: good people and bad people. The good person was, of course, Shen Qingxuan, who treated Yi Mo well and was therefore a good person. The bad person was naturally Ji Jiu, who had even stabbed Yi Mo with a knife. To Liu Yan, that wasn’t just bad—it was utterly unforgivable. In his simple mind, his previous incarnation was a villain of the worst kind. As for the grievances and tears Ji Jiu had endured, Liu Yan simply refused to think about them. His scales were tipped so heavily that they could nearly pierce the heavens.

Every time he saw Yi Mo silently touching his vermillion birthmark, Liu Yan would think, This was left behind by the bad Ji Jiu.

So, at an opportune moment, his dissatisfaction with the vermillion birthmark finally erupted, and he removed it.

Now that the mark left by the “bad Ji Jiu” was gone, and Yi Mo had decided to call him Shen Qingxuan, Liu Yan grinned, wholeheartedly pleased. He agreed joyfully, and, brimming with happiness, even leaned in shamelessly to say, “So, you’ll like me now, won’t you?”

In truth, Yi Mo was already regretting it in that moment, reasoning that Shen Qingxuan would never be this foolish. But he hadn’t expected Liu Yan to ask this so directly, and he replied, “Why should I ‘have to’ like you?”

Liu Yan answered confidently, “Because you’re calling me Shen Qingxuan,” his large round eyes staring seriously. “So, you have to like me.”

Yi Mo was briefly taken aback by these words, unable to comprehend Liu Yan’s logic and left speechless.

Liu Yan continued, “You just have to like me!” Otherwise, what was the point of changing his name? To Liu Yan, his past life as Shen Qingxuan was still himself, though he had died. But that didn’t matter. He could continue the affection that life had for Yi Mo. Yet Yi Mo disliked him for being a fool.

Liu Yan had been troubled by this problem for a long time and had no idea how to make Yi Mo like him, foolishness and all. But now it was fine—Yi Mo had easily solved his problem. Yes, I can just be called Shen Qingxuan.

If I’m called Shen Qingxuan, you’ll have to like me, even if I’m a fool. Because you like Shen Qingxuan.

So, you’ll also have to like a fool who bears the name Shen Qingxuan.

A name was just a label, and Liu Yan didn’t care what he was called—Shen Qingxuan or Liu Yan. It didn’t change the fact that he was a fool. No matter what he was called, his essence as a fool wouldn’t change.

Therefore, names were meaningless to him, but they mattered to Yi Mo. That was enough.

The fool laughed happily, with the indulgence born from long-term pampering, and declared quite imperiously, “Yi Mo has to like me.” Then he pounced on Yi Mo and kissed his face, his usual tactic.

Yi Mo’s face was left wet from the kisses, feeling as if he had been licked by a dog. But a dog could be kicked away, whereas Liu Yan couldn’t. So, he could only cover his face and begrudgingly escape the predicament.

He hadn’t realized that he was starting to lose his grip on the fool.

Just as he managed to push Liu Yan’s face away, Liu Yan leaned close to his ear again. Amidst the continuous, overbearing cries of “Yi Mo has to like me,” Yi Mo couldn’t hold out any longer and reluctantly said, “Fine.”

Liu Yan, accustomed to finishing the words “has to like me,” froze in place before suddenly snapping back to his senses. He threw his arms around Yi Mo’s neck and asked, “Really? Really? For real?”

Yi Mo replied with a headache, “Mm.” He added, “Go to sleep.” How late had it gotten with all this fuss?

Liu Yan chuckled foolishly and obediently burrowed under the blanket. Then he buried his face in Yi Mo’s chest, still unable to stop smiling.

His smile was so silly yet so content that Yi Mo couldn’t resist. He grabbed Liu Yan’s ear and pulled him out from under the blanket, then bent down and bit his face. After biting the left side, he moved to the right, gnawing until Liu Yan yelped in protest. Only then did Yi Mo stop grinding his teeth.

When everything quieted down, Liu Yan clung to Yi Mo’s waist and quickly fell into a sheep-counting slumber. Lying in bed, Yi Mo thought of his past life, Ji Jiu. At first, Ji Jiu resisted the name, and though he eventually accepted it, the process was tumultuous and intense. Yi Mo couldn’t understand why, now that Liu Yan was foolish, he had accepted it so easily.

Unable to help himself, Yi Mo woke the freshly sleeping Liu Yan again, pulling his eyelids upward. Staring into those drowsy eyes, Yi Mo asked, “Why did you agree so quickly to being called Shen Qingxuan?”

Forced to adjust his gaze and focus his spirit, Liu Yan stared blankly for a while before understanding the question. Without thinking, he replied, “Because no matter what you call me, I’m still a fool.”

Yi Mo was stunned.

Liu Yan, thinking Yi Mo hadn’t heard him clearly—since his drowsiness made his speech slurred—explained again, “No matter what you call me, I’m still a fool. So no matter what you call me, you can only like a fool.”

See? So simple. Names didn’t matter. Going by any name, the only person who could stand before Yi Mo and pierce his heart was this person—a fool.

Liu Yan’s expression seemed to say it was the simplest thing in the world. Yi Mo let go of him and lightly patted his face, saying, “Sleep.”

Liu Yan grabbed Yi Mo’s hand and wrapped it around himself, muttering, “Yi Mo, hold me to sleep.” Then he hugged Yi Mo’s waist, rubbed his face against Yi Mo’s chest, and obediently fell asleep.

Yi Mo held him as they lay back down, thinking about the kind Shen Qingxuan. Besides kindness, there was nothing else. Shen Qingxuan’s kindness was something he was willing to reciprocate. Although at first, he knew what Shen Qingxuan wanted, he found it troublesome and attributed it to “repaying a debt of gratitude.” In truth, he didn’t have to accept this “repayment”; he merely wanted to see to what extent this young man, frail and sickly for many years, could go. So, he accepted it. Later, there were some twists and turns, and Shen Qingxuan became ruthless, pouring all his kindness onto him. “Kindness to me is goodness.” Those were Shen Qingxuan’s words, and he had always acted that way. Shen Qingxuan was so good to him that he decided to stay.

He didn’t know that this decision to stay would mean he no longer wanted to leave.

Then there was Ji Jiu. Ji Jiu wasn’t good. From the first meeting, he wasn’t good. For the sake of a woman, Ji Jiu turned against him, drawing his sword. If Yi Mo hadn’t had spiritual power, he would’ve died by Ji Jiu’s sword that night.

He stayed by Shen Qingxuan’s side for thirteen years, realizing he didn’t want to leave. But he couldn’t stay, as he was destined to ascend to immortality. So, he deliberately provoked Shen Qingxuan, hoping to sever this attachment.

Yet, he found himself missing the Shen Qingxuan who would go to every extreme to be good to him.

Ji Jiu and Shen Qingxuan were no different at their core, only their chosen paths differed. Yi Mo had realized this early on but still hated Ji Jiu’s attitude toward him. It wasn’t a matter of reason; it was instinctual.

Thus, from beginning to end, he couldn’t be bothered to discuss past lives with him. The entanglements of their previous life weren’t something Yi Mo wanted to share or talk about.

Different paths meant that even if they were the same at their core, Ji Jiu in front of him was not the Shen Qingxuan he could sit with by candlelight and share ink and words.

After the harm and disputes, they reconciled. In the end, Ji Jiu admitted defeat, agreeing to be his Shen Qingxuan for one night—the Shen Qingxuan who was only good, never bad. Then they parted.

And now, in his arms was this simple-minded, bright, yet empty-headed fool.

Yi Mo sneered. Yes, regardless of whether the Shen Qingxuan he sought was good or bad, in the end, it all turned to nothingness. The reality he faced now was this fool. And if this fool were gone, who would he face next? What kind of goodness, or what kind of badness? Perhaps letting go and never being entangled again would be the best strategy. But if he left, what would happen to the fool? He couldn’t help but think this as he stroked the smooth, soft back of the fool in the blanket. The warm, soft texture made him reluctant to let go. No matter how foolish, there were still endearing aspects—like purity. No obsession with family constraints in the first life, no indifference weighed down by the burdens of a nation in the second life. Stripped of all these, what remained was a simple fool who just wanted to be good to him.

Yi Mo held the fool and sighed, “Fool… I can’t bear to leave you.” He wasn’t sure if the fool heard him in his dreams, but the fool smiled, his lips curving up in his sleep.

A Shen Qingxuan who was kind to him because of desires, a Shen Qingxuan who was unkind without any desires, and now, a Shen Qingxuan with no desires yet stubbornly determined to be good to him. The name didn’t matter. Whether Shen Qingxuan, Ji Jiu, or Liu Yan, they were all the same soul at their core.

Yi Mo bit the smiling face of the fool who was sleeping. He felt annoyed. The first life was good, the second life wasn’t, and the third life was foolishly good. What would the fourth life be? Just thinking about it irritated him. How could he not be annoyed? Filled with frustration, Yi Mo took it out on the fool’s face.

The next morning, Liu Yan touched his face and, while washing up, asked Yi Mo, “Is there something on my face?”

Yi Mo replied, “What?”

Liu Yan rubbed his cheeks in confusion. “It hurts a little,” he said, looking around for a mirror. Suddenly, he realized that the bronze mirror in the room was nowhere to be found. After searching all over and coming up empty-handed, he leaned over and said, “Yi Mo, take a look. Is it broken?”

It wasn’t broken, just swollen. Yi Mo, with an indifferent expression, glanced at him and then said, “There’s nothing there.”

Liu Yan never doubted him. Even though his face felt strange, he believed Yi Mo’s words, tugged on Yi Mo’s sleeve, and said he wanted porridge.

After finishing his porridge, he went out with Yi Mo, his face red and swollen, looking happy as ever.

Walking on the mountain path, Liu Yan gnawed on the fruit in his hand. He had three fruits in total, biting into each one. After tasting them all, he picked the sweetest one and handed it to Yi Mo. “Yi Mo, eat this one. It’s sweet.”

Other than eating and sleeping, he was good at nothing else. But then again, if a fool could do everything, smart people would have to become gods. As Yi Mo silently criticized him in his heart, he also silently forgave him. But this time, when the soft, fair Liu Yan handed over the fruit with bite marks—the sweetest one—Yi Mo took it and bit off the part where the teeth marks were.

Liu Yan’s big eyes instantly turned into crescent moons as he watched Yi Mo eat the fruit he’d given. “Is it good?” he asked eagerly, lips moving slightly as if recalling the fruit’s sweetness.

Seeing Liu Yan’s expression, Yi Mo took a few more bites, finishing the fruit until only the seed was left. He tossed the seed away and nodded, saying, “It’s good.”

Liu Yan said, “Tomorrow I’ll pick even sweeter fruit and save it for you.”

Yi Mo replied, “Alright.”

They looked at each other. At this moment, Liu Yan was unaware of how silly he looked with his still swollen face, and Yi Mo didn’t realize how tender his own gaze had become.

The mountain wind rustled through the treetops. Autumn had arrived, and the wind swirled as it blew. Yi Mo took Liu Yan’s hand, looked up at the sky, and said, “It’s going to rain. It’s cold. Let’s go back.”

Liu Yan responded with a hum, gripping Yi Mo’s hand tightly, their fingers intertwined and locked together.