Un cœur pur dans un pot de jade

Chapitre 6

"How can you be so stupid?!" I poked his head with a smug yet sighing tone. He leaned back from the poke, and I quickly reached out to grab him.

I held his fingers, and he looked up at me. Even in the darkest of times, his eyes still held a faint light. I was happy to see his progress these past few days. His eyes were no longer swollen or bloodshot. Sometimes he would look at me with clear black and white pupils, making me suddenly forget what he looked like when I first met him.

I pulled him to sit up straight, he lowered his eyes, took the branch from my hand, and wrote on the ground: Why; then he wrote: These.

I knew he wasn't asking me why I was so bored as to make him recognize these numbers; he was asking: why do we need these redundant numbers when there are already written characters for counting? He lowered his eyes, waiting for my answer. I felt I was getting to know him better and better; I even knew how to fill in the gaps in his answers and explain it to myself.

“Because it’s easy to remember, look—” I pulled him over to look, and then wrote 10 on the ground, then 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100, 200… I wrote a lot, and he quietly watched. Anyway, time was incredibly absurd, so there was no need to worry about wasting time writing a few numbers.

After I finished writing, I paused for a moment and saw him slowly nod.

I laughed, not believing he would fully understand. Suddenly, a beginner's Sudoku puzzle came to mind, so I waved the branch to remind him, "You understand now, right? Well, I'm going to test you now—"

He hesitated to look up as I dragged out my voice. I would have thought he was a student who was flustered and confused as he entered the examination room. But it turns out that he was just like that by nature. Sometimes he would habitually lower his head or look down at me. At those times, I couldn't see his eyes or his expression, so I couldn't guess what he was thinking.

Or perhaps he was secretly laughing at me from below; I have no way of knowing.

With a flourish of my pen, I drew a 3x3 grid on the ground, then divided it into 81 smaller squares. I filled in the original hint numbers, leaving the other squares empty. Then, I explained the rules of the game to the unassuming savage beside me: "It's very simple. Here are nine 3x3 grids, each with nine smaller squares. Now you need to fill in the numbers so that no two numbers in any row, column, or larger square can be repeated. Do you understand?"

He kept his head down, intently looking at the grid I had drawn for him.

I handed him the twig, but he didn't appreciate the gesture and turned around to take another one from the fire.

"You don't know what's good for you!" I tapped him on the head with a twig, and only then did he raise his eyes and look at me seriously for once.

A faint light flickered in his eyes, and he seemed to raise an eyebrow at me, but it didn't seem real. He turned his head, leaned forward, and reached out. With the first stroke, he filled in the most fitting number in the square, then the second, the third... all in one smooth motion.

The branch in my hand fell to the ground with a thud. I stared at the savage who had so effortlessly accomplished everything, and I heard myself muttering to myself, "My God, how did this savage suddenly become a genius..."

Just then, the wild man finished Sudoku. He looked up at me silently, and the light that had been shining in his eyes earlier seemed to have faded. His expression was also very calm. He was neither happy nor boastful, as if he had only done a trivial and simple little thing.

"That's not fair!" I exclaimed angrily. "How can you learn it so easily? And you still say you're not an alien?!"

He stared at me, still expressionless.

I turned away angrily, ignoring him. But to my surprise, he didn't come over to coax me right away. Usually, if he saw that I was ignoring him, even if he was eating wild fruit, he would immediately spit out the fruit in his mouth and throw himself into my arms—no, he would run a few steps to my side, hug me tightly despite my resistance, or rub my freshly washed hair without restraint. In short, he would coax me. But now, we both fell silent, with only the whistling wind and the sudden sound of rain.

This kid is getting more and more outrageous with each lesson. I raised an eyebrow. How long has it been, and he's already trying to rebel?!

After a long time, the savage stretched out his fingers, which were gradually growing new flesh. He reached out and tugged at the hem of my pajamas. I raised my hand and slapped his hand away, without even looking at him.

This time he wasn't discouraged and reached out to tug at my clothes again.

"Tear, tear, tear—!" I turned around and glared at him. "This is the only tattered piece of clothing I have. If you tear it any more, I'll end up like you, wearing tree bark and leaves every day!!"

He withdrew his hand, lowered his head, and looked back at the ground.

Seeing him like that, I couldn't bear it, so I suppressed a laugh and asked, "Do you know you were wrong?"

He nodded.

"Alright, confess. What did you do wrong?"

His head hung even lower, and I couldn't bear it any longer. I leaned forward, intending to move to his side and comfort him, but instead, I noticed a line of small writing on the ground behind him. I walked around him to where I had just drawn the Sudoku puzzle. Under that large square, there was a line of small, though faint, writing that was remarkably powerful.

I moved my lips and silently uttered those small words: Thank you for teaching me; I never knew these things before.

My heart was racing, and I turned to look at the savage.

The savage was still squatting there, head bowed as if he knew he was wrong. I remembered his expression when he finished the Sudoku a moment ago. He wasn't smug at all, but when he was still working, a glint had flashed in his eyes, though it was too faint for me to notice… I was jealous of his ability to finish Sudoku in an instant. I turned my back on him and ignored him, but instead of immediately trying to coax me as usual, he carefully wrote a sentence on the ground. He pulled me back, wanting me to look at it. This was the first time he had ever written a sentence with such a neat number of characters. Before, he would either omit or simply not write anything at all. This was truly a first.

I've seen the wild man laugh before, but I really don't know when his happiness truly comes from the bottom of his heart.

If a person meets his dream girl and gazes at her tenderly, his eyes filled with satisfied joy, does that mean he is truly happy?

I have no idea, after all, he mistook someone for someone else.

Perhaps there's still pain in her heart...

But if I had known it would be so simple to make the savage grateful—"You should have said so earlier!" I walked up to him and lifted his head. "If I had known you liked these things, you would have told me. I, Sun Qingshan, have no great abilities, but I know the most about these unorthodox methods. We'll see how it goes. I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve!"

I held his chin up, and he half-closed his eyes, not looking at me. His messy beard tickled my hands, and his long hair slid down his cheeks. His pale, listless face and chestnut-brown, slightly raised eyebrows made me feel like some kind of warlord in a chaotic world was holding the face of the most beautiful woman in the world, and my next move was to pounce on her and kiss her passionately.

But I won't do that. I'm facing a savage, with that savage face. I can't possibly act like a powerful, ruthless leader.

After all, he's the savage. I laughed and released his chin. Even if you were to one day split this green mountain of mine with an axe, I could never fall in love with a savage. A green mountain can never love a savage.

I let go of him, and at that moment he looked up.

His eyes were bright. When the bloodshot veins were gone, the firewood beside him made his eyes appear clear and bright. He had narrow but perfectly folded double eyelids. His eyes were large and long.

“You have to teach me,” he said to me, but no sound came out.

I felt a little smug. The savage only used lip movements when he was in a critical moment, too happy, too angry, irrational, or utterly desperate. He always preferred to write, but I was more capable, so he was often angered or provoked by me into speaking to me with his mouth.

"Great!" I clapped my hands. Better to be lucky than early. "Come here, let me teach you what the Germanic English of the British Empire is. There are twenty-six letters this time, you'll have a lot to learn!"

He nodded and obediently followed.

Chase game

Time slips away little by little, as if it hasn't passed, yet as if it's already gone forever.

Even I, who always counts the days on my fingers, have gradually lost track of how long I've actually been in this Savage Valley.

It's been a few months now, and I'm anxiously waiting for the cold, snowy winter. But the wild man tells me that there is no winter here; it's like spring all year round, or rather, like autumn.

In an instant, I breathed a sigh of relief; in an instant, my heart sank again.

In a valley where even the seasons are indistinguishable, there are no human traces and no large creatures to be seen. If a person lived here, how could they maintain their peace of mind and avoid panic and madness?

Before I arrived here, I knew that the savages had lived here for a long time.

Later I discovered that even those deep pits that seemed to be alien ruins were actually dug by savages. I saw him sleepwalking and digging. One night I woke up from the cold and realized that the savage who had been holding me while I slept was not beside me. I followed the footprints and went outside, and saw the savage with a vacant look in his eyes kneeling on the ground digging a pit. In the light of the misty moonlight, his face was empty and focused. The old wounds on his hands were torn open, and blood seeped into the soil and rocks from between his fingers. So that's how he got those wounds that hadn't healed for so long.

Later I asked him, and he was completely unaware of everything.

I didn't want to tell him about digging the hole, since sleepwalking only happens once in a long while, and it had been quite a while since the last episode.

But I don't understand, is this his way of venting? He's stuck here, so bored that he invented a way that hurts himself and wastes time, which is to dig a hole with his hands?

He's ridiculous. Once again, I'm starting to doubt his original intentions for coming here.

But now it seems it doesn't matter anymore.

"Hurry up—it's your turn!"

We played hopscotch on a large house image, with each square dividing it into rooms. I modified the game slightly, turning it into a Monopoly-like game of rock-paper-scissors, events, and chase.

I came up with this idea yesterday. We played from sunset to dawn, and ended up playing all night.

At that moment, I was standing at the back door, and the wild man had just had a chance to start.

I know he sometimes lets me win, because I have bad manners when playing games and I often can't stand losing, so I get angry with him.

He didn't mind, as long as there was something to do, he was happy too, and he had just as much fun as I did.

He kicked a pebble, hopped over it on one foot and then on the other, but the idiot stepped on the line. He frowned, then stepped back two squares.

Then he waved to me, indicating that he wanted to play rock-paper-scissors.

I smiled and said, "Wild man, stretch out your hand. I have something for you."

He obediently took out his hand, and the two of them were separated by a large and a small square on the ground. He reached out his hand, and I reached out my hand too, and we just touched each other's fingers.

"You lost." I brandished the scissors in my hand and cut open the cloth covering his outstretched hand.

He raised an eyebrow, glared at me fiercely, but surprisingly didn't renege on his promise.

I was excited and quickly kicked the stone next to my feet, but I kicked too hard and the stone went out of bounds.

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed, rubbing my face. "We have to start all over again!"

The savage squinted his eyes with schadenfreude. Seeing me walk past him angrily, he was still determined to provoke me. He reached out and stopped me.

"What are you doing?!" I turned around and glared at him, feeling that my gaze must be so intense it would make him dizzy.

Regardless of whether I was in the spotlight or not, he gripped my hand tightly and wouldn't let go. He pointed to my two legs, then to his own posture of standing on one leg, and then looked up at me with ill intent.

I know he meant: You fouled.

"You little brat, are you threatening me?" I shook off his hand. "Just watch, I'm back to square one. I can always start over. What can you do about it?"

He pursed his lips. I took a step to leave, but after thinking about it, I lifted one foot and prepared to hop back on one foot.

Suddenly I felt someone laughing beside me. I turned my head and saw the savage's eyebrows spread open, his lips pursed in a smirk that he made no attempt to hide. "Well, you're something else!" I deliberately let my legs go weak and swayed. The savage immediately reached out a hand to protect me, and I deliberately pressed myself against him, and the two of us fell down together.

This time I pressed down on his chest, and he lay flat on the ground. I felt his fingers tracing across my back.

I'm always careless.

He wrote those words on my back stroke by stroke, which made my heart itch, but I still had to face his serious and resentful gaze.

"Mind your own business!" I pushed him away and stood up. "If you're so capable, then don't help Fu Ai—" I stopped speaking, looked around, and suddenly felt a little dizzy and dazed.

The savage thought I was angry again and helplessly reached out to push me away. But when he saw that I was still sitting on him without moving, he was also a little strange. He followed my gaze and looked around. His movements of struggling to sit up slowly stopped.

He saw the same thing as me; at that moment, we were sitting in the middle of a large house.

This is a very, very big house. I drew it myself. It has a living room, bedroom, kitchen, study... everything you could need.

We chased each other in this house, like the house's male and female owners.

I recently recalled a classmate saying she wanted to save money to buy a house with her boyfriend, and another junior high school classmate of mine got married and moved into a new house. It seems that no matter what era we live in, men, women, and houses, as long as these three things are combined, they can instantly evoke images of lights, the other person, ordinariness, and the future.

I turned my gaze to the savage, and he suddenly looked away at me. We were both a little stunned, as if we were in an incredibly strange situation. I felt the radiant light of the rising sun outside the cave, and I could hear the soft crackling of burning firewood inside. I could even hear my own heart beating firmly and reliably, one beat after another—thump, thump…

I bent down and kissed the savage.

At this moment, I remember with perfect clarity the first time I met him. His closeness made me nauseous and I vomited. I remember his lips, his gentle yet desperate expression, and the unbearable smell emanating from him. Back then, he held my head so I couldn't move away, and I saw the fear and resistance in his eyes. He then kissed me passionately. The situation is completely different now. Now, I blush and my heart races. In his eyes, I see someone eager and impatient.

Everyone is, in fact, an animal that can indulge itself without end. I pressed down on his shoulders and kissed his lips little by little.

His scent was faint, like the aroma of spring water and the sweet, enticing scent of wild fruit. We spent all our time together, absorbing each other's most natural and pure scents. He held my hand, his fingers weaving between mine.

I probably never imagined that I would be the one who couldn't stand the loneliness first.

Maybe I should be categorized as someone who's impatient in these kinds of situations, both with my ex-boyfriend and with my current boyfriend.

I always end up being the one who loses face and tries to seduce others, so before I can even move on to the next target, I always get dumped without a second thought.

People around me say I'm magnanimous, or that I always seem to be indifferent.

I didn't pretend to be; I was just acting.

If one day I absolutely have to let my tears flow, I will definitely not choose to do it in front of others. I don't need anyone's comfort; I just need to maintain my usual image of not caring about anything. Therefore, I am inevitably a contradictory person, on the one hand, I have to pretend, on the other hand, I crave, and on the other hand, I have to tell myself: you can endure anything.

Now, the savage hugged me and kissed me. His kisses made me dizzy and almost turned me over.