Volume One: Fresh Rain Chapter Eleven: Layered Riddles

“To think you dared to scheme against even me. No wonder this is the most splendid era among all the countless epochs—so full of talent indeed.”

The deity, having just soothed the little girl, gazed toward the distant town, then looked back at the child who this time had truly fallen into slumber, a hint of self-mockery in his eyes.

“But in such circumstances, perhaps it doesn't matter even if they try to plot against me. Now, all I am good for is to trick little girls. No, wait—maybe I can still fool a few suspicious old men.”

Something seemed to cross his mind, and he chuckled, glancing once more at the sleeping Ye Mingke on the ground. The smile faded.

“Six years. Spring is here. What kind of flowers will bloom this season?”

He murmured softly, then took a step forward.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished without a trace, while Bai Qiaoqiao and Ye Mingke silently appeared among the crowd confronting each other before the school hall.

In that instant, the teacher, the village chief, and the others all heard the same clear and gentle voice beside their ears.

“Tell that person—he owes me an answer.”

“For the next six years, it’s best to keep the peace.”

The voice was so mild and mellow, but everyone who heard it—except for the man in the wheelchair and Long Yinling—showed expressions of fear and pain. A few shadowy figures even sat down cross-legged on the spot, entering meditation as if they'd heard the most terrifying demonic sound.

After a long time, those people finally came to themselves, opening their eyes, their faces marked by the terror and shock of that night, preparing to leave.

“Wait,” said the middle-aged man in the wheelchair.

The shadowy figures turned to look at him. He alone remained, for Long Yinling had already taken the children home.

“We've found the person. What more do you want?” the village chief rasped.

“The answer you promised me!” The man in the wheelchair slowly lifted his head, revealing a pair of pale, sword-straight brows.

A sudden flash of sword light.

...

“So, why did the teacher shave off that long beard he'd been growing for so many years?”

“I don't know.”

“Then, why did the school hall suddenly collapse?”

“I don't know.”

“Why did the village chief suddenly fall ill and take to his bed?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“Why did the town’s tailor suddenly move away? We live out on the sea—where could they have gone?”

“Well… I heard they have relatives on the shore.”

“Where on the shore?”

“That, I don’t know either.”

“Oh heavens, so you don’t know what illness took the old man who wove mats, who suddenly died, do you?” Lying in bed, Ye Mingke covered his face in despair, unable to bear the sight of Tao Yao’s guileless expression.

“That I do know! I heard the townsfolk talking about it!” Tao Yao scratched his head, speaking eagerly.

“What illness?”

Ye Mingke parted his hands to peek out with a glimmer of hope in his bright eyes.

“A vicious malady! They say the old mat-weaver died suddenly of a vicious malady,” said Tao Yao with conviction.

Mingke stared at him blankly, then—

“Oh heavens!”

He groaned, hiding his face back beneath the covers.

“Mingke, Mingke, what's the matter?” Tao Yao asked in his guileless way.

“It’s nothing. I just want to be alone.”

“I think my brain may have caught a vicious malady too…” Mingke muttered, muffled by the blankets.

“How could that be?” Tao Yao was utterly baffled.

“If my brain weren’t stricken, why else would I ask you all these things?” Mingke sighed and poked his head back out of the covers. “By the way, did you pass the academy’s trial?”

“Hehe, I passed without a hitch.” For some reason, Tao Yao’s face flushed red as he scratched his head and grinned foolishly.

“Hey, that’s too much. Passing is already great—why are you grinning like you’re lovesick? Did you have a romantic encounter or something?” Ye Mingke slapped his blanket and rolled his eyes at Tao Yao, feeling a little envious.

“What’s a romantic encounter?” Tao Yao stopped grinning, reverting to his usual inquisitive, model-student self.

“Well… um… just ask Old Bai about it.”

Old Bai was the town storyteller. Mingke cocked his head; he actually wasn’t quite sure what a romantic encounter was, only remembering how the adults and teens listening to stories would scratch their heads and laugh foolishly whenever that term came up.

“Oh. Okay.” Tao Yao, ever the dutiful student, nodded obediently.

“So… how did you guys pass the trial?” Ye Mingke frowned. His own trial had been anything but ordinary.

Ordinary, my foot! There’d been mists, illusions, and even a tiger.

“It was just climbing a mountain, and then we were there,” Tao Yao replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“No way? No mist? No illusions? No tiger?”

Ye Mingke suddenly felt a pang in his heart.

“Wouldn’t that mean anyone could pass?”

“Not everyone. Some of the girls who weren’t strong enough didn’t make it, and a few others got stuck in the bamboo forest halfway and couldn’t find their way out.”

“A labyrinth?” Ye Mingke felt a bit better. He asked, curious, “So how did you get through?”

“I ended up in front of the same clump of bamboo several times. I got so mad I just yanked it out, and after that I found my way out easily. I was the first one down the mountain!” Tao Yao said with a smile.

“Well, you really are clever.” Ye Mingke rolled his eyes helplessly, reached out to pat Tao Yao’s big head, then fished a box out from under the bed and tossed it to him.

“Here, a clay doll made by Old Liu the mason—your favorite. Consider it your entrance gift.”

“Wow! It really is one of Uncle Liu’s dolls! Thank you so much, Mingke!”

Mingke lay back on the bed, pulling the covers over his head, not in the mood to deal with Tao Yao’s excitement.

Still, he was genuinely happy for his best friend.

Still… after waiting so long for the entrance trial, he was the only one who hadn’t passed.

Tao Yao, Qiaoqiao—both had made it. Only he was left behind. It was hard not to feel a little lost.

“Mingke, are you unhappy?” Tao Yao, slow to catch on, finally quieted down and gently shook Mingke’s blanket.

It took you this long to notice I’m not happy.

Mingke rolled over under the covers, not wanting to deal with this oaf.

“Oh, right. Everyone in town’s been wondering why the teacher suddenly shaved off his beard.”

Seeing Mingke unwilling to talk, Tao Yao scratched his head for a long while before he finally thought of something to say.

“Some folks say it’s because you and Qiaoqiao went missing, and your Aunt Long argued with the teacher and yanked his beard out. The teacher was so angry that after finding you, he refused to take you as a student.”

“Nonsense. That old fossil’s just blind,”

A woman’s voice suddenly sounded from outside the door.

At the sound, Tao Yao instantly shrank his neck and fell silent, while Mingke, delighted, poked his head out from the covers.

A graceful woman in white, about thirty years old, entered from outside. Realizing her words had come out harsher than intended, she paused, glanced guiltily toward the next room where the sound of hammering came from, then turned back, softening her expression and voice. She tapped Tao Yao’s head gently and spoke tenderly.

“Nonsense. Your Aunt Long is a gentle, well-mannered person. She would never go pulling out someone’s beard. Don’t go spreading such talk. Or else…”

She looked down at Tao Yao and smiled sweetly.

Though Tao Yao was tall—taller than many grown women—he still stood half a head shorter than the slender lady in white. Her smile was clearly kind and gentle, yet for some reason Tao Yao always found this beautiful aunt a little intimidating. He nodded repeatedly and obediently.

“Mingke, I’m off now.” With that, Tao Yao turned to Mingke, waved, and slipped away.

“Haha, Aunt, you’ve scared off another child,” Ye Mingke laughed, pounding the bed. “At this rate, it’ll be hard for you to ever become the gentle and demure lady you aspire to be.”

“Laugh all you want, you heartless child.” Long Yinling wagged her finger in mock anger, then sat listlessly on Mingke’s bed.

She glared at Mingke, lowered her voice, and spoke with agitation: “What else can I do? I’ve already changed into white clothes like you suggested, and these are impossible to wash. I even copied that strange hairstyle from the picture you gave me, but it’s still not working. Sigh…”

“That’s odd! In Old Bai’s stories, all the gentle heroines wear white. I even begged him for ages to get that illustration of the beautiful girl from his story. How could it not work?”

Mingke sat up in bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder with the woman in white, stroking his chin in thought.

“But Aunt, you’re already beautiful enough. Why do you need to be so gentle and demure?” Ye Mingke asked.

“It’s because your uncle only likes gentle and demure women,” Long Yinling replied dejectedly.

“How do you know?” Ye Mingke pictured his uncle, always aloof and hammering iron, and realized that perhaps that was indeed his uncle’s type.

“I just know,” Long Yinling sighed deeply, head bowed.

Ye Mingke hugged his poor, perennially lovelorn aunt.

“Aunt, you’re so pretty and capable—who wouldn’t like you? Why do you like Uncle so much?” Mingke asked curiously.

“Because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have an aunt anymore,” Long Yinling teased, pinching Mingke’s cheek.

“Ah? So, even after ten years of life and death, you still only love Uncle and not me. I’m heartbroken,” Ye Mingke declared dramatically, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“Bah, you cheeky brat. Did you pick that line up from Old Bai’s stories just to tease me?” Aunt Long poked Mingke’s head, but seeing his thin, frail form above the covers, she couldn’t help but soften, pulling him into her arms.

“You, you… No matter how hard it’s been, you’ve at least grown this big. That’s something. But it’s been so tough on you.”

Leaning against his aunt, Mingke felt warm and touched, but as a ten-year-old boy, it had been ages since he’d been hugged by his aunt, so he grew a little shy, changing the subject.

“Aunt, you still haven’t said why you like Uncle.”

“Why? Because… because your uncle is beautiful,” Long Yinling murmured dreamily, gently rocking Mingke as she gazed toward the next room, where the sound of ironwork echoed.

Beautiful? Did that word even suit his uncle?

Mingke was baffled, but suddenly he remembered the night he’d cried and raged, and his uncle had hammered at the forge all through the night—the silhouette, unmoving as a mountain, cast in firelight.

There truly was something inexplicably compelling about his uncle.

“Enough. I’ll go make you something to eat. If you had to rely on your uncle for food, you’d starve to death.” Aunt Long released Mingke and headed out to the kitchen.

At the door, she paused for a long moment, gazing at the glowing forge next door, but in the end, she didn’t dare go in.

“Mingke, Mingke!”

No sooner had Aunt Long left than Tao Yao’s furtive figure popped up at the window.

“I suddenly remembered what you asked me to check with Old Chang, the hunter. I was right—tigers can swim! Old Chang even said he’d seen a tiger catch fish in the river!”

“So running into the river to escape the tiger really was a bad idea. But why did the tiger following you disappear as soon as you reached the river? I still don’t know.”

Mingke sat warm in his bed, but abruptly felt a chill all over.

That white tiger—that phantom beast that appeared and vanished like a ghost, that white demon…