Небо над реками и озерами очень чистое

Глава 75

"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration? I've been walking around for days, and there are hardly any houses in this area."

The old man took out his pipe, tapped it at his feet, and lit it over the campfire. The smoke rose slowly, and his wrinkled face seemed to disappear into the mist.

"This used to be the royal palace of the Cangwu Kingdom. People don't remember it anymore, except for older people like me who still have some impression... It was a nice place..."

"With mountains and rivers, the entire nation was a large clan of tens of thousands, thriving and prosperous. Their mining and silver-refining skills had been passed down through generations, leading to a life of wealth that was the envy of countless smaller nations at the time… The women of this clan were exceptionally beautiful, with fair skin and exceptional singing and dancing skills, unlike the women of other parts of Southern Yue. Unfortunately, they never intermarried with other tribes. In particular, the princess of Cangwu was said to have songs that could attract the responses of ghosts and gods, and even birds and fish would come out to listen. Her beauty was otherworldly, and no one who saw her could resist being captivated. Countless traveling merchants came from afar, more than half of them hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and upon returning home, they would talk about her like fools for dozens of days…"

Perhaps due to his age, the old man's words were a bit rambling, leaving Yin Hu somewhat confused.

“That was good, how come it’s changed now…” He gestured to the deathly silence around him.

"It's because it's too good that it's brought trouble." The old man puffed on his cigarette, his voice filled with sadness and helplessness. "The neighboring small countries were envious, wanting both their wealth and their women. They conspired to bribe the general stationed in Nanyue with a large sum of money, falsely accusing Cangwu of treason, and led several times their number of people to invade and seize this land..."

"And then?"

"This tribe is extremely proud. Even knowing they are no match for them, they refuse to surrender. The men, led by their king, fought desperately and all perished on the battlefield. The women..."

"They've been captured? No, they just said they were all dead..." As he got to the point, he gradually sensed something was wrong.

Looking around at the shimmering lake, the old man spoke with a hint of awe. "I only heard that a dark army surrounded this mountain, forcing the women hiding in the palace to come out and surrender. All the men died, and the whole tribe was wiped out... The women hated the demons who destroyed their homes and country, but they were unwilling to be slaves. Led by the queen, they all threw themselves into the lake. Not one of them would submit, and the whole small country was finished."

"They're all dead?" The few words evoked a horrific scene. The thought of the lake being covered with corpses sent a chill down Silver Swan's spine, and he almost immediately vomited up the fat fish he had just eaten.

"...Later, people cried every night, so much so that even the occupying enemy troops couldn't bear it. The corpses began to rot, and a plague broke out. The shamans all said it was a curse from the Cangwu Kingdom. To exorcise the evil spirit, under the orders of the shaman, tung oil was poured into the lake and burned for three days and three nights. The flames could be seen from dozens of miles away..." The old man sighed deeply. "But women still cried. In the end, they were afraid and withdrew from this place with a large amount of gold and silver they had seized. For decades, it has remained desolate. No one dares to catch the fish in the lake, no matter how good they are. They are women from the Cangwu Kingdom who have transformed."

"Is it really a witchcraft curse?" Whether it was just his imagination or not, his stomach started churning, and he looked at the fragrant fish with a sense of wanting to cry but having no tears.

"That's not necessarily true. I once traded goods in Cangwu. This country is different from other parts of Nanyue. Both men and women are skilled singers. The tribe believes they are descendants of a god and don't believe in witchcraft, but they do possess secret arts, known only to a few members of the royal family." The old man casually plucked a flower swaying gently in the wind. Its delicate petals, unfurling like tassels, were exquisite and beautiful. "They considered this a sacred flower. Back then, the royal court was filled with them. Snow-white clothes, white flowers, and songs like heavenly music—it was truly beautiful..."

The old man stopped talking and silently smoked his pipe.

In the deathly still night, another gust of wind swept by, carrying a faint echo of sobbing. Beyond the terror, there was a mournful and poignant sorrow. The moonlight, as silver as silver, reflected on the mottled and desolate ruins, and Silver Swan stood there in a daze for a long time.

He tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. When he finally drifted off to sleep, it was almost dawn. When he woke up, the sun was high in the sky, and the fire beside him was only warm. The old man who had been talking all night was nowhere to be found, and he was not even sure if what he had encountered was real.

There were only a few fish left, and he had lost all interest in grilling them. He patted his stomach and decided to hunt some wild birds. He tripped on the path leading to the ruined palace, and when he bent down, he saw a stone tablet hidden by wild vines, with strange inscriptions carved on it. After staring at it for a while, he took out a plain silk cloth from his pocket. Although the characters were different, the strokes and patterns were exactly the same, clearly indicating that it was the same script.

He scratched the back of his head, looking at the dilapidated palace. After searching tirelessly, he had stumbled upon the target he had been looking for all along.

Thinking back on everything that happened last night, it was truly... unbelievable.

Author's Note: A birthday present for Ice, hehe, although a little late.

Tracing Dreams

A bead of sweat seeped from his forehead, slowly trickling down his brow, across his damp cheek, and rolling down his chin onto his clothes. Gradually, it was chilled to the bone by the cold room temperature.

Her body, drenched in sweat, felt like it was frozen solid. The damp, heavy blanket she had struggled to pull on was completely useless. Fortunately, after several episodes, she had figured out the pattern and had entrusted her child to the shop owner beforehand. She didn't want anyone to see her in this disheveled state.

The pain was excruciating; enduring it felt like her body was falling apart, her will nearly collapsing. Extreme weakness made her want to sleep, but the cold became the biggest obstacle.

It's indeed a bit ridiculous to freeze to death inside a house.

This damn north, this damn winter… She began to regret not going to Nanyue.

It's said to be very warm there, and it never snows.

What is that person doing now?

The last expression I remember was one of utter rage; I must have really angered him…

It was terrifying, but thankfully I won't see it again.

The cold kept creeping in, and my head gradually grew heavy, but if I could just sleep like this...

He dragged the sword from beside his pillow and slashed his wrist. He hadn't gripped it properly, and it went a little too deep; more blood flowed than expected. But the pain should be enough to hold him for a while longer, if only he could get through a few hours…

Footsteps sounded outside the corridor, very light, and there was more than one person. Regardless of who the enemy was, she had no strength to resist, so she simply waited, pretending it was none of her business.

There was a light knock on the door, followed by a pause and another knock, patient and polite.

After knocking repeatedly without any response, a cracking sound finally rang out, and the bolt snapped.

The door opened.

The room was extremely dark, and the light shining in made it difficult for her to see clearly for a moment.

A moment later, a gentle male voice rang out.

"You stay outside, it's poisonous here."

A tall, slender figure stepped in, extinguishing the faint glow of incense in the corner of the room. Turning to look at the person on the bed, he softly apologized and reached out to open the window.

Light streamed into the room, which was filled with a faint mist of smoke, and the wind carried the scent of snow as it blew in. She squinted slightly.

"The person who's been following me for the past two months, is he one of yours?"

The sound was so faint it was almost inaudible, yet he heard it clearly.

"It's me."

He touched her cold forehead and checked her pulse. He took off his light fur coat, pulled back the blanket to wrap her slender body, picked her up, and stepped out of the icy room.

She was very tired, but she forced herself to stay awake.

Although the steaming hot bath dispelled the chill in my bones, the maidservants were respectful and polite, the thick, heated mattress was extremely comfortable, and the room was heated by an underfloor heating system, making it warm enough to make one sweat.

"Go to sleep," he said gently, standing by the bed. "There's no danger. I mean no harm."

"Who exactly are you?" This question lingered in my mind for a long time. "Whom have I killed?"

He smiled slightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You're surrounded only by enemies? It's not what you think."

That look made her very uncomfortable, as if she felt endless heartache. She tried hard to shake off the daze, but it wasn't easy.

He held her slender wrist, preventing her from pressing on the newly bandaged wound. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I don't know you."

“You’ve seen me before, or perhaps you’ve forgotten.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his expression warm and nostalgic. “A long time ago.”

“Impossible.” She stared at his face. “I’ll definitely remember what I’ve seen before.”

He smiled again, gently stroking his black hair, and strangely, he didn't seem to feel any disgust.

Like speaking to a stubborn child, his voice carried a gentle coaxing tone. "You're very tired, go to sleep. When you wake up, I'll tell you everything, and no one will ever be able to hurt you again."

Having confirmed that the other party meant no harm, her consciousness gradually blurred. Despite having countless questions, she relaxed and almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.

A dream I haven't had in many years.

In my dream, she was flying a kite, a very beautiful butterfly kite. Her handiwork wasn't very good, but her drawing was exquisite.

Mother sat under the tree sewing new clothes made of light pink silk, which she would soon be able to wear. She eagerly awaited the return of her father, who was away on a long journey, with new and interesting toys.

The kite spun and wobbled as she ran further and further away. She tripped and fell, breaking the string. Ignoring the pain, she looked up at the sky and saw the kite, now without its tether, plummeting from mid-air and tumbling onto the grass, looking utterly pitiful.

She ran over to pick it up, but the kite ended up in a boy's hands. He had handsome features and looked somewhat familiar. He stared at her coldly.

She didn't understand it at the time, but much later she realized that the feeling that made her slightly afraid was a kind of hostility.

Behind the boy stood a dignified and beautiful woman, with a lingering melancholy between her brows, her gentle gaze fixed on him.

She turned around, bewildered. Her mother stood up from a distance, her snow-white dress fluttering in the wind.

I woke up to the sound of a flute.

My hands and feet have regained their strength, but I don't want to move.

The gentle, melodious tune, like a dream, was the humming she had learned while nestled in her mother's arms, evoking long-forgotten memories. Her father loved listening to her mother's songs and enjoyed tossing her high into the air and catching her, making her feel like a butterfly that could fly. Her mother often scolded her father for spoiling her too much. The happiness of that time was without any regrets, and even now, it still feels unreal.

I was so happy back then, that the memory feels like a luxury.

Surrounded by maids, she washed and changed, her mind somewhat unsettled, letting the maids dress her layer by layer.

The fabric was of expensive, high-quality material, light, warm, and soft. The style was simple and elegant. Although it was winter clothing, it didn't feel heavy or cumbersome at all. It was worn only after being warmed up. The width and length were just right, and even the boots fit perfectly, as if they had been tailor-made.

There were subtle changes to the objects in the room, and I no longer felt the fatigue I had experienced after the previous attack. I don't know how long I slept, but I think I took some medicine, otherwise it would have been impossible for me to be completely unaware of the change of location.

She looked at the short sword on the shelf for a while, then flipped it into her sleeve, pushed open the door, and stepped out.

His gaze suddenly became unfocused.

Outside was a spacious courtyard with long eaves. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, turning the world into a pristine white. But she knew that beneath the snow lay lush green grass, and the several large, distinctly branched trees would bloom with tiny, delicate flowers in summer, carpeting the ground in golden petals. Under the eaves, several clumps of banana trees would rustle gently in the rain, creating a monotonous yet serene sound. Large white flowers would grow beside the banana trees, often picked and arranged in vases, their elegant fragrance lingering for a long time…

The wind chimes under the eaves tinkled softly in the cold wind, as if the fleeting past had become a reality.

On the third pillar from the left in the corridor, there are several marks of varying depths. She bent down and stroked them as if in a dream. Once, a little person stood in front of the pillar, gesturing and clamoring to grow taller quickly.

Her delicate fingertips brushed across a beaded curtain of hundreds and thousands of gems, vibrant and dazzling, reflecting a brilliant light beneath the snow. A few gems lay missing below; she had plucked them to make marbles…

Everything felt like a scene from a dream, but there shouldn't be that person leaning against the railing playing the flute in a dream.

"Who are you?" the question uttered in confusion, only to be quickly seized by the cold reality.

"No, why should I ask... What does this have to do with me...?" She took a few steps back and slammed into the wall with a thud. Her face suddenly turned pale, and she vaguely guessed what had happened.

"Wrong, I'm not the person you're looking for."

The young man put away his flute and appeared before them in a flash.

“Wrong… wrong… I didn’t…” Even a blade to the neck wouldn’t be this terrifying. Her expression was filled with fear, her mind was a mess, and she pressed hard on her throbbing temples.

“I am Jia Ye… a demon hated by everyone… no… no…”

"Fluttering".

He spoke for her the name buried in layers of ashes, the name that lingered on her tongue, a taboo she could never utter.

She raised her head in a daze, gazing into those understanding yet sorrowful eyes.

"No... I'm not... You must have made a mistake."

"Do you still remember this tune?" He gestured with his piccolo, patiently guiding the student. "You taught me, and I sang it several times. Because I fixed your broken kite."

"...But you said you didn't understand..." Fragments of light and shadow flashed by. A handsome boy always wore a stern, impatient expression, yet because of some inexplicable intimacy, she preferred to cling to him and talk... "No, I'm not her, I'm Jia Ye..." She denied weakly, sometimes dazed, sometimes lucid. "The...devil in Tianshan..."

“I don’t understand the songs you sing, but I remember the tune.” He spoke softly, as if he hadn’t heard the denial. “You said I was your first friend who was close to your age.”

She paused for a moment, then became confused again.