"Let's go..." "I'll go with you." "I'm going to the restroom—what do you need to accompany me for?" Chu Lingzhi looked at him in surprise. "I'm not an immortal; I have needs too." "..." The two headed toward the restroom. Di Ruiyingxue emerged from around the corner, her cold gaze fixed on their retreating figures.
*****
The mountain path wound and twisted, rugged and difficult to traverse. Tall trees with lush green leaves stood thick and verdant. Summer sunlight filtered through the layers of foliage, gently spilling across the forest.
Nangong Yehen and Huo Luan stood beneath a camphor tree, gazing at the slope before them. Thirteen years ago, this slope had been dotted with wooden cabins. Now, it was a carpet of green grass. Thirteen years ago, several families had lived in these mountains. But after a fire burned a Chu family to death, the superstitious mountain folk, fearing ghosts, had all moved away. Except for the occasional herbalist who came up to gather medicinal plants, the mountains were as silent and eerie as a deep forest, with wild boar tracks scattered everywhere.
"Your subordinate remembers that back then, when you were injured and afflicted by the cold, it was Master Chu Jinian who personally treated you," Huo Luan said, looking at the grassy expanse.
Back then, Nangong Yehen was thirteen, frail and gravely wounded. Nangong Yehen's father, Nangong Lao Ye, had some connection with Chu Jinian, so he brought his son from the city deep into the mountains for treatment. Nangong Yehen had always been weak as a child; no amount of treatment or medication in the city's big hospitals had improved his condition. His father, Nangong Lao Ye, decided to let him convalesce in the mountains. The mountain environment was beautiful, the air fresh, and Chu Jinian could constantly take his pulse and administer medicine.
At that time, Chu Jinian's granddaughter was only eight years old. She was small and thin, with dark skin, her hair tied into two little braids. She followed Chu Jinian everywhere, gathering herbs, grinding them, brewing them, and then helping to apply acupuncture or poultices to him. Perhaps because she spent so much time moving through the mountains, the little girl was shorter than other children her age. Her skin was dark, but she had eyes as bright as black gems. Though small, she moved through the steep hills like an animal—fast and agile. And her nose was incredibly sharp; among many similar-looking herbs, she could identify the right one just by smelling it. Chu Jinian often praised her in front of him, calling her his capable assistant and saying she would be his successor one day.
Nangong Yehen, naturally arrogant, disliked this dark-skinned little girl. What made him see her differently was the day Chu Jinian went down the mountain to treat a patient, and his body suddenly flared with pain. He vomited, trembled all over, and convulsed as if in spasms. The little girl's grandmother was at a loss with his condition. Then, the little girl grabbed a white-headed snake and made it bite his arm. She quickly applied acupuncture to control the venom, preventing it from reaching his heart. After letting it circulate through his blood vessels once, she sucked the poison out with her mouth. When the unconscious Nangong Yehen woke up, he felt an unprecedented clarity and ease. The little girl personally brewed medicine for him and said, "Grandpa told me you're a rich young master, and I'm to take good care of you. I know you look down on us mountain folk, but don't forget—sometimes, money can't buy health or life. The poison in your body—I was the one who cured it. You owe me a thank you." "Poison in my body?" He was shocked at the time. What poison did he have? Seeing his stunned expression, she spoke with a still-childish voice, "A rare kind of cold poison."