Lan Yin Bi Yue

Capítulo 1

Green Mountain Wild Man Valley

remote

I arrived in a strange place, and at first, I didn't see anything, but someone suddenly grabbed me tightly from behind.

It cannot be simply described as "strong." The arm that was holding me tightly in its arms at that moment was so strong that it could break my bones and kill me.

It was a long, agonizing embrace. The person holding me didn't utter a sound. I could only look down slightly to see the two arms tightly wrapped around my chest, covered in wounds and filth.

There was also a pair of hands with prominent bones and slender fingers—the words to follow were neither pure white nor jade-like. These hands must have rummaged through piles of corpses, or they must have been repeatedly run over and squeezed by tires. In any case, they were equally filthy. The fingertips of all ten fingers were in a terrible state, with either broken nails or none at all, and the bloodstains that had flowed there had long since dried.

With nothing to do, I stared intently at my hands to avoid focusing too much on the suffocating pain in my chest.

Gradually, it was discovered that one of the hands had three broken fingers. Although the fingers were still intact, they were unnaturally twisted. In some places, the finger bones were exposed, and the bones were not white.

Suddenly, a sigh came from behind.

This was a long sigh, but not a sorrowful one.

The man's entire face was pressed against the back of my neck, so I could hear the softness, joy, and satisfaction in his voice... Because the two of us were so close, my back was tightly connected to his, and with each rise and fall of his heart, I took a breath and exhaled.

The person behind me remained silent, but gradually released me and turned me to face him.

Oh my god—my heart suddenly stopped working with a "click".

I was terrified. I'm 300% sure I was terrified by what I saw. I need my grandma to have someone perform a soul-summoning ritual for me. I'm about to die of fright.

The face that appeared before me, this face, slowly curled its lips into a smile at me, but my hands trembled. My shoulders were being held, but I still managed to break free of one hand and reach in front of him, punching him in the nose with a bang.

The man's smile seemed to freeze, his face frozen there in a half-smile.

I could only reluctantly meet his gaze. His hair was so long and messy that I wanted to reach out and pluck it for him. Wildness was an understatement; it was half-wet, covered in mud and dirt, mixed with fallen leaves, sticky and disgusting.

He put on two tattered clothes of indistinguishable color, the top reaching his knees with tattered cuffs, but the style was still avant-garde, something that no designer who advocates postmodernism could have created. This was a menswear style that could be traced back at least five hundred years or at most two thousand years. I swear I once saw the exact same one in a museum, with a similar degree of damage.

As for his appearance, I haven't seen it clearly yet.

Because half of it was covered by hair, and the other half was covered in blood, plus a breathtakingly thick beard extending from his nostrils down.

The beggar under the overpass near my house has a much neater, tangled beard than he does.

Therefore, I really don't understand how I had the courage to fight this savage on the mountaintop. At this moment, his gaze was fixed on me, like a jackal or tiger staring at its prey, for a long time without getting tired of it.

However, the intense excitement in their eyes could not effectively conceal the madness, disorientation, and confusion within.

He opened his mouth; at least his lips were still pleasing to the eye, not hidden by his beard. He had an extremely chapped yet beautifully curved mouth, now stained with blood. He moved silently, and I only heard a few hoarse "ah-ah" sounds before making no other noise.

Perhaps he is mute; that's the only conclusion I can draw.

And there's no doubt he's a madman.

Furthermore, he wasn't angry about being hit; instead, he hugged me from the front again.

I smelled a sour and fishy odor on his shoulders, which didn't tell me whether he hadn't showered for a month or two, but his clothes were too tattered to cover his body.

However, his breath was warm, and the cold wind blowing in the wild made me feel comfortable, even though I was only wearing pajamas.

The hug was brief and gentle. He didn't tighten his grip on me anymore. He released me, touched my face with his deformed fingers, and smiled foolishly at me again.

I didn't make another move. After this series of actions, I didn't even dare to resist in the slightest. Because he was tall, if he grabbed my arm, his fingers would be like vises. When he hugged me, I even knew he wasn't using any force, but I couldn't move an inch.

If I were to wrestle with him in the wild, the outcome would be far too predictable.

Fortunately, although I love cleanliness, I am not a germaphobe. I can tolerate the pus and grime on his exposed skin and ignore his horrifying face. I just beg him not to tear me apart or eat me. I'm afraid of pain.

They were also afraid of dying.

A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered. His eyes showed worry, and the next moment he suddenly grabbed my arm, and with a gentle push of his other hand, he spun me around and wrapped his arm around my waist, and flew away with me.

"ah--!!!"

This time I actually cried out, only to find that the silent valley, the two silent people, their hands trembling as they endured without daring to make a sound, were truly too quiet, eerily quiet, and there was even a deathly aura about it.

He was carrying me through the air, and I gripped his neck tightly. The wind howled in my ears, and I screamed incessantly. I felt like I might strangle him to death, but my fear of heights made me afraid to open my eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped. My feet touched the ground, and I felt his hand move away from my waist.

I felt dizzy and kept my eyes tightly closed.

Then he gently poked me twice with his finger. I'm timid and didn't dare to disobey, so I opened my eyes.

Looking around, I found myself in a cave with a rocky roof. The entrance was large, but the cave itself was shallow. The semi-open structure allowed for ample light and shelter from the rain, but it wasn't very windproof.

The savage next to me poked me again. I turned to look at him and found that he was gesturing with his hands outstretched. He was indeed mute. However, I don't know sign language, and neither does he, so I couldn't understand his gestures.

However, I still gave him a silly smile, because I was afraid that if we just stared at each other, he would get impatient and slap me flat.

He pointed outside, then pointed inside. I looked outside; the sun was setting, and the weather was fine and sunny.

I looked inside; it was spacious yet dark, nothing special.

At this moment, he patted my arm, but didn't gesture anymore. He opened his mouth and mouthed, "You, here, wait, for, me."

It turns out he wasn't a pure-blooded savage; he could even speak human language.

He spoke each word very slowly, as if afraid I wouldn't understand.

Seeing that I nodded, he, with his long, messy hair disheveled, vanished in a flash.

"Oh my god..." I finally slumped down and let out a long breath.

What happened? Just a second ago I was dreaming of spending money like water. Tomorrow is Boxing Day, and I was all ready to fight for it. I was so excited that I checked my phone's ringtone several times before going to bed. How did I end up here when I opened my eyes?

And now, where am I?! Even if time and space have flipped, do you really have to throw me off this godforsaken cliff? Could I have somehow ended up in some ancient caveman era? Otherwise, what was that thing that just ran out of here? Was it someone like me?

Although he was miserable—his appearance, smell, and taste were all terrible—I still had to reluctantly admit that he must have something wrong with his head. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought me, a complete stranger, to a place like this and seemed to treat me very well, even though he didn't actually do anything. But from the way he poked me, hugged me, and touched me, I knew he had mistaken me for someone else!

The sun broke through the clouds, and I stepped out of the cave, arms crossed. Looking up, I realized what profound despair truly meant. Even the thought of leaving alone was impossible. This was a valley surrounded by mountains, with nothing but flowers, grass, trees, and sheer cliffs—so high that even birds couldn't fly down. No wonder it was so quiet; apart from insects, there were no other animals—no wild boars, no pheasants, no wild ducks. I felt terrified. I couldn't even hear a wolf howl. Suddenly, the silence around me felt suffocating. I began to pray that the savage wouldn't lose his mind again and forget me. I prayed he would return quickly and not leave me here alone.

However, I waited and waited, until I was about to lose my temper, but I still couldn't see that figure who was as fast as lightning.

He wouldn't really just leave me here and abandon me, would he?

I turned around and walked back into the cave. It was so cold... I curled up and sat in a sheltered corner, hugging my arms, and started to stare blankly into space.

If I freeze to death here, can I go back to my soft, fluffy bed? Will I still have the chance to participate in the crazy discounts during the economic recession? I shout, I've waited a whole year for this once in a lifetime!

Suddenly, a figure flashed by, and the savage was already standing in the center of the cave.

He was holding a few peaches in his hand and carrying a pile of firewood on his back. He stood in the cave looking around and then saw me.

His eyes lit up, and even though we were far apart, I knew I wasn't mistaken. He looked around nervously, but when he spotted me, he walked towards me with genuine joy.

The savage stuffed all the peaches into my hands, then turned around and started a fire at my feet.

I watched his actions carefully. He took out a flint and started a fire with practiced and smooth movements. As the fire gradually grew stronger, he turned around and looked at me.

I met his gaze and was once again startled by his appearance.

Although it is said that a gentleman should not judge a book by its cover, this is the first time in my life I have seen such a person. Let me reiterate, compared to the beggar under the overpass in front of my house, he is absolutely stunning.

The savage walked back to my side, sat down, and leaned closer to me. Knowing that he wanted to hug me again, I closed my eyes tightly.

But this time it was all innocent. I waited and waited, but he didn't put his arm around my shoulder. Instead, when I opened my eyes, I was suddenly face to face with him—his long mustache, his bloodshot eyes, his horribly mutilated and hideous scars, his unbearably filthy face. I didn't dare breathe, and he just kept moving forward, forward, and forward again—

*Smack!* He kissed me!

My eyes widened in disbelief. Those lips, the very lips I had praised, were now kissing my lips!

A wave of nausea washed over me. How could this be? How could he do this? I imagined pushing him away, but I couldn't. He gripped the back of my head, his eyes closed, looking utterly blissful. No, I felt even more disgusted. In an instant, a vulgar phrase flashed through my mind: "Enough is enough." How could he kiss me with that mouth? That mouth that clearly hadn't brushed its teeth, that mouth belonging to such a savage-looking man, that… mouth that I imagined reeking of stench and saliva—Ah!! How could he kiss me like this?!

My patience finally wore off. I'm so grateful. He let go of me, and I took deep breaths of the fresh, pure oxygen. I wiped my mouth repeatedly with the back of my hand and spat out my saliva. Even though I had been clenching my teeth the whole time, he wasn't shameless enough to stick out his tongue and pry open my lips. But I just felt uncomfortable in my mouth, and a taste rushed straight to my head. Suddenly, I stopped all my movements.

Because there was no sound around, in this valley where even a wild boar's fart could not be heard, silence would be particularly clear.

The savage freed me from my bonds, and from that moment on, he watched me silently as I vomited and retched in a very unseemly manner. He remained silent, his hands trembling slightly at his sides, looking at me with a sense of despair.

despair?

I rarely use this word, but the look in this savage's eyes as he looked at me at that moment was clearly filled with despair.

I suddenly realized that even if he were a fool, an idiot, or a madman, he could still sense how much I hated his kiss just now, and I felt hopeless.

He'll definitely skin me alive!

Just then, the savage leaned over. I was startled and tried to back away, but I realized he was just trying to pick up the peaches that had fallen from my hand. I was so nervous that I couldn't hold onto any of the peaches he had just put in my hand, and the juicy peaches fell to the ground, looking utterly pathetic.

He picked a peach that looked relatively undamaged, placed it in front of him, and began to peel it carefully.

He was really peeling the skin off me!!! I shuddered. Was this the legendary "killing the chicken to scare the monkey"? Was he using the peeling of a peach as a metaphor that one day he would peel my skin off?

Good heavens! I wish I could roar to the heavens.

At that moment, he handed me a peeled peach without saying anything (he shouldn't have said anything anyway). He held the peach up in front of me, and even though I didn't take it, he wouldn't put it down.

So how could I dare not accept it? I quickly, immediately, and with trepidation, held the peach in both hands.

I guessed he wanted me to eat it, but who knows if I was right? I didn't dare think about what might happen. Under his unwavering watchful gaze, I brought the peach to my mouth. I gestured that I wanted to bite it but didn't. I watched his reaction. He didn't react, so I cautiously took a bite. Seeing that he still didn't react, I became bolder. Sweet peach juice filled my mouth, and I happily munched on the peach, nodding frequently in excitement to show my appreciation.

I quickly finished the peach and looked up to find the savage looking at me with a gentle expression. The firelight beside him illuminated his face, which was covered in tangled hair and beard. I shuddered. The savage's face could not be described as gentle; put together, it was ferocious.

I smacked my lips twice. Eating brings satisfaction, and when I'm happy, even a savage can face life with equanimity.

But that doesn't mean I can calmly face the savages slowly approaching me.

Please, he's already so close to me, why does he need to get so close? Is he trying to kiss me again? Help! I just ate a peach, I really don't want to throw it up and disgust myself.

The savage drew closer. He reached out his hand, and I trembled. His badly broken fingers touched my lips.

He gently brushed his finger across the corner of my mouth. I thought he might be annoyed that I didn't wipe my mouth after eating. But he withdrew his hand, looked at his own hand, and then put the tip of his incredibly dirty finger to his lips and licked it.

"Uh..." I covered my mouth; the peach was about to come out.

The savage stopped licking his fingers and started staring at me intently.

Is my face really so captivating that he can never tire of looking at it? I reached out and touched myself, and after touching myself, I felt a sense of emptiness, because suddenly there was nothing else to do.

The savage was watching me, and I didn't know what to do.

He was looking at me, and I nervously looked around.

Why is he just staring at me? I covered my face, wanting to cry but unable to.

Suddenly I felt a light tap on my arm. I suddenly realized that the wild man was actually very gentle. He only hurt me the first time he jumped out and gave me a long hug, just that one time.

The savage patted my arm, and I couldn't help but open my eyes.

I opened my eyes and saw the savage holding a half-burnt twig, writing on the ground.