Chapter Thirty-Seven: Traces of the Qilin Appear

On the eastern bay, Jiang Zhenyuan and Chen Shanglu lounged shirtless against the rocks, idly kicking at the water in boredom.

“That must be Xiao Rongxian laughing. Tsk tsk, what a lovely sound,” Jiang Zhenyuan said, cocking his ear.

“You think that’s good? Clearly you’ve never heard Chu’er laugh. Now that’s a beautiful sound,” Chen Shanglu replied, dreamy-eyed.

Jiang Zhenyuan leaned in, looking puzzled. “Chen Shanglu, do you think my sister likes you?”

“Of course.”

“Of course she doesn’t?”

“Of course she does!” Chen Shanglu shot him an indignant glare.

“Come on, she barely even pays attention to you.”

Chen Shanglu shoved Jiang Zhenyuan aside, smirking mischievously. “Shows what you know. Women always say the opposite of what they mean.”

“The opposite?”

“Exactly.”

“But when Xiao Rongxian says she wants noodles, she really just wants noodles.”

“You don’t get it. I’m done talking to you,” Chen Shanglu said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Fine, like I care. I don’t want to talk to you either,” Jiang Zhenyuan retorted, climbing up onto the shore.

“Where are you going?”

“To hunt some wild rabbits for dinner.”

Meanwhile, Rongxian’er and Mingchu were playing happily, with Rongxian’er laughing as she ran to the center of the spring.

“Come catch me!” she giggled.

Suddenly, a torrential downpour crashed down, drumming into the spring. Within moments, the water surged, rising highest in the center.

Rongxian’er turned pale with fright, almost slipping.

Mingchu quickly regained her composure, grabbing the edge with one hand and reaching out with the other. “Grab hold! I’ll pull you over. You’ll be fine.”

The rain pounded harder, growing fiercer by the second. The water was nearly up to their shoulders.

Rongxian’er gulped, extending a trembling hand. “The water’s so cold. Save me, Mingchu, I can’t swim.”

The wind and rain were so loud she could barely keep her eyes open. Mingchu shouted, “Stretch your arm out more! I can’t reach you!”

“I’m scared I’ll slip!” Rongxian’er shivered.

“Hurry, there’s no time!” The water had reached her neck. Mingchu yelled, “Help, Yuewu! Help!”

“I’m going for it,” Mingchu declared, stretching as far as she could to clutch Rongxian’er, pulling with all her strength. Just as she almost succeeded, Rongxian’er’s foot slipped and she disappeared beneath the water, swept away by the current.

Yuewu and Jiang Zhenyuan arrived at the same time, sprinting from under the trees.

Yuewu grabbed Mingchu first, wrapping his own coat around her shoulders to comfort her. “I’ll get Rongxian’er.”

Jiang Zhenyuan, desperate, scratched his head in panic and shouted, “Xiao Rongxian, I’m coming!” then leaped in after her.

“My brother can’t swim!” Mingchu cried anxiously.

Yuewu didn’t hesitate. He dove in, first dragging the flailing Jiang Zhenyuan out, then plunging back under to search for Rongxian’er.

Chen Shanglu, half-dressed and stumbling, ran over. “Chu’er, are you alright?”

Mingchu shook her head, her gaze fixed tensely on the pool. Jiang Zhenyuan was still coughing from swallowing water.

The rain thickened, a shimmering curtain, churning the spring into anxious waves. Mingchu clung to her clothes.

Suddenly, two figures surfaced: Yuewu, swimming with one arm around Rongxian’er.

“Hurry, Yuewu! Over here!” Mingchu shouted, standing up.

Yuewu dragged the unconscious Rongxian’er ashore and began pressing the water from her chest. Mingchu and Jiang Zhenyuan stood at either side, struck by a sense of déjà vu.

At last, Rongxian’er coughed up a mouthful of water. Jiang Zhenyuan rushed to hug her. “You scared me to death! Thank goodness you’re safe.”

Rongxian’er clung to him, sobbing, “Little General, I thought I was going to die.”

Mingchu coughed lightly, handing over her coat for Rongxian’er to put on.

“Let’s all find shelter from the rain,” Chen Shanglu suggested, as drenched as the rest.

He hurried over, raising his coat to shield Mingchu. “Chu’er, let’s go.”

In the mountains, the five of them found an abandoned temple. Yuewu managed to start a fire, and they gathered around it, breathing warm air into their hands.

“Miss, you should take off those wet clothes, or you’ll catch a chill,” Yuewu advised.

“It feels awful having wet clothes stick to me,” Mingchu complained, wringing out her sleeves. “See, I’m soaked through.”

Rongxian’er chimed in about her discomfort and began to undress. Jiang Zhenyuan licked his lips and awkwardly turned away, as did the others, all facing the wall where firelight danced in flickering shadows.

Mingchu and Rongxian’er stripped off their cumbersome outer garments, leaving only their underlayers, which they draped over branches to dry.

“What about you?” Mingchu asked the boys. “Aren’t you going to dry your clothes?”

“A real man can handle a bit of cold. I’m tough,” Jiang Zhenyuan declared loudly, then promptly sneezed three times in a row.

Chen Shanglu snickered, slapping his own face playfully. He glanced sideways at Yuewu, who sat silent, his very breathing calm and measured.

“Little General, are you alright?” Rongxian’er started to get up and go over.

“Don’t move!” Jiang Zhenyuan’s face flushed red. “If you come over here, I—I’ll hit you.”

Mingchu tugged Rongxian’er back. “Let’s dry these clothes quickly.”

A quarter of an hour later, their clothes were somewhat dry and they pulled them back on.

“Alright, you can turn around now.”

Rongxian’er bounced over to yank Jiang Zhenyuan. “Come warm your clothes.”

Chen Shanglu sat next to Mingchu, grinning. “Rain’s not all bad. It’s romantic, and when it’s over, there’ll be a rainbow.”

“Really? But the trees here are so tall—won’t they block it?”

“No tree is taller than the sky. Rainbows are in the heavens—nothing can block them,” Chen Shanglu replied.

Rongxian’er and Jiang Zhenyuan huddled together, and she began retelling the story of the first time they met.

“Hahaha! You should have seen yourself—you went pale with fright! Did you really think there was a ghost?”

Jiang Zhenyuan clicked his tongue. “Keep your voice down. You never know—female ghosts love to haunt temples at night, sucking the souls of passing men. Ever heard of a book called ‘Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio’?”

Rongxian’er shook her head.

“Ha! So I know something you don’t,” Jiang Zhenyuan said smugly. “Listen, there’s a story in there about a ghost girl named Xiao Qian. Every night, she waited at a temple—Lanruo Temple, that’s it—to drain the souls of any scholar passing by.”

“What happens if your soul is drained?”

“You die, of course! And your spirit can never be reborn. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“So scary, so scary,” Rongxian’er replied with exaggerated shivers. But before Jiang Zhenyuan could bask in his victory, she burst out laughing. “Silly, if the ghost wants to suck souls, she’ll come for you. Why should I be afraid?” Her eyes crinkled with mirth.

“But…but…” Jiang Zhenyuan stammered, at a loss, staring helplessly at her.

Watching them, Mingchu couldn’t help but laugh along. She turned to see Yuewu sitting across the fire, its glow playing over his features, his gaze resting quietly on her. Mingchu smiled and scooted over to sit beside him.

“Yuewu, are you cold?” she asked, touching his hand.

“I’m not cold,” he replied.

“Then…wait, what’s that smell?” Mingchu leaned in, sniffing. It was the scent of fresh blood.

“Yuewu, are you…?” She hurriedly began checking his body for wounds. “Are you hurt?”