Chapter 29: Lost in the Wilderness

Xiaohua walked onward, emerging from the valley mouth. The landscape suddenly opened up, revealing a river where the shimmering, rippling water looked like shattered silver or snowflakes dancing in winter. Xiaohua lingered by the riverbank, gazing into the distance; the traces of humanity had long vanished, and there was no sound of a shepherd’s whip striking a cow’s back.

Xiaohua wept. Yet, by this river, her cries went unheard by any soul. Only the wind whispered softly, as if deliberating on how to rescue the young girl. But who could save her now? It seemed she had only herself to rely on.

Suddenly, a boat appeared by the bank, resting silently against the shore as if waiting for someone. In the dead of night, who could be worth such a devoted wait?

Xiaohua was utterly exhausted and could walk no further. It seemed the only way to leave this place was to board the boat, for any other path was surely impossible. But to whom did this boat belong? Xiaohua did not know. She crept toward it but dared not board, for it was not her own; one does not simply board a stranger's boat, does one?

She sat by the side of the vessel and began to doze, for sleep weighed so heavily upon her that she could barely keep her eyes open or hold her head up. Suddenly, she felt someone tapping her shoulder—a touch so cold that she looked up, only to find no one behind her. It had begun to rain; the drops pelted down, stinging her shoulders. With nowhere to hide, she looked at the pitch-black boat, its color truly chilling in the dead of night.

The rain grew heavier.

Helpless, Xiaohua climbed onto the boat. But once aboard, she was struck with terror and began to cry. A coffin lay upon the deck, adorned with red and green paper charms, and a basin of fire sat before it, its flames flickering erratically in the wind.

Xiaohua sobbed. Fearing to stay, she scrambled off the boat and chose to endure the pouring rain, which was surely better than remaining there.

She walked a few paces, still fearful that the boat might follow her onto the shore. She glanced back, and to her horror, the boat seemed to be crawling up the bank, accompanied by the sounds of many people cheering. Yet, in the middle of the night, no one was to be seen. Why this was so, Xiaohua could not fathom.

She ran for her life, falling countless times, yet she always scrambled back up, moving with a speed far beyond her usual capabilities.

She ran back into the valley, and behind her, she heard the sound of barking—or so she thought. In truth, these were not dogs, but a pack of wolves. Their green, eerie eyes scanned the darkness. At first, Xiaohua was not afraid, thinking someone had brought a flashlight to find her, and her heart leaped with joy. Only when they drew near did she realize they were not dogs. Yet, she reasoned, if dogs are man’s best friend, wouldn't their company be a comfort?

Xiaohua reached out to stroke the head of one, for in her eyes, these "dogs" seemed quite lovely.

The pale moonlight spilled down, revealing the wolves' bared, white fangs. Only then did she realize these were not benevolent creatures, and she determined to flee.

In the midst of the chase, Xiaohua heard someone calling her name—it was her father!

Old Man Hua rushed toward them. Seeing the wolves pursuing his daughter, he was consumed with rage. He lunged forward and swung his blade, but it sliced through empty air.

Just as the situation reached its climax, a thunderclap shook the sky. The wolf pack scattered, no longer daring to menace the father and daughter.

Xiaohua collapsed into her father’s arms, weeping bitterly and telling him she had seen a ghost. Old Man Hua comforted her, telling her not to be afraid. Following the overgrown path of the desolate village, they slowly made their way home.

Meanwhile, Shaoqiu sat in his room. It was said to be haunted; though he was a scholar and indifferent to such superstitions, the constant rumors made him feel as if every shadow were a phantom. Late that night, unable to sleep on his rickety bed, he heard footsteps outside. The sound was faint yet distinct. Who could know what it was?

Being a man of letters, Shaoqiu would not suffer such unease. He flung open his door, stepped outside, and shouted into the darkness. But the desolate village remained deathly silent. There was no one there. Only at such an hour would Shaoqiu dare to shout; in the daylight, he would never have the courage.

The sound of the river flowing eastward continued, a heavenly music more pleasant than any instrument in the dead of night.

The Gelimu Mountains were also wrapped in a deathly stillness. Shaoqiu wondered if anyone was on the mountain at such an hour, but he did not know. He stood before his door, lost in thought. Just then, he saw a woman approaching. She wore a short top and what appeared to be tattered undergarments. In the faint moonlight, her plump, white thighs were clearly visible. It was none other than Hua Gu. What business she had at his door, he could not guess.

"Come, let me let you touch me," Shaoqiu heard a voice say. It was clearly Hua Gu, though he dared not be certain. Having spoken, she drifted away, leaving behind a song. Though the melody was not quite standard, it sounded exquisite in the deep silence of the night.

Shaoqiu’s heart surged, yet he dared not act. He merely pondered the matter, his mind drifting back to the subject of ghosts. If the house were truly haunted, wouldn't it be terrifying to stay? But if not here, where else could he go?

He longed to follow Hua Gu to her home and speak with her, even if it were only idle nonsense. But he did not dare. He thought of Xiaohua, wondering where she was and if she was thinking of him.

Shaking off these thoughts, Shaoqiu glanced at the grim, terrifying silhouette of the Gelimu Mountains. He could barely stand to look at it for more than a second. He retreated into his room, closed the door, sat at his desk, and turned on the light to read. Whenever he could not sleep, Shaoqiu would always open a book and read in solitude.

"Come!" a voice whispered from outside the window, delicate and bewitching.

Shaoqiu ignored it. It was likely something unclean; how could he heed such a summons? If he followed, who knew what terrible place he might be led to? So, he did not listen, keeping his eyes fixed on his book.