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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter Three
On the day Lin Yuan returned to the village, the sky was overcast, heavy as if draped in lead. Under the Old Huai Tree at the village entrance, uncle Zhang was still smoking his pipe, the thin smoke curling around him like a shroud. Lin Yuan approached, his feet sinking into the muddy ground, making his shoes feel weighted down. He remained silent, but uncle Zhang spoke first: “You don’t look well. That woman from the mountains didn’t come back with you?” Lin Yuan frowned and shook his head, the memory of A Qing’s eyes from last night flashing in his mind—eyes that seemed to hide a blade.
There weren’t many people in the village, but that day the courtyard was filled with shadows. A few men leaned against the wall, whispering among themselves, gripping their hoes and sickles tightly. Wang Wu stood in the center, his voice booming like thunder: “Last night someone saw that woman from the mountains. Her footprints didn’t look human; her tail dragged on the ground!” Lin Yuan’s heart sank; he wanted to refute it, but his throat felt as if it were blocked by a stone. Wang Wu shot him a glance, his eyes glinting with malice: “Lin Yuan, you’ve been hanging around her for days. Why aren’t you saying anything?” Gritting his teeth, Lin Yuan managed to say, “She saved me.” The crowd erupted in an uproar, voices rising like a boiling pot. Someone shouted, “Saved you? She probably wants to harm you!”
uncle Zhang cleared his throat and stood up: “I’ve said it before—when Azure Smoke appears, disaster is not far behind. You young folks never listen.” He squinted at Lin Yuan. “I saw her footprints last night; they were all claw marks in the wet mud.” Lin Yuan’s mind buzzed; last night when she pulled him down the slope, her grip had felt as cold as ice. He hadn’t thought much of it then, but now those words struck him like a hammer on his heart.
Before darkness fell, the villagers moved. Wang Wu led the way, carrying a torch, followed by about ten men, all with grim expressions. Lin Yuan wanted to intervene, but uncle Zhang held him back and whispered, “Don’t get involved; they’re scared.” He shook off uncle Zhang ’s hand and grabbed his bow, running up the mountain. He knew A Qing was still in that wooden house; she had said she wouldn’t leave tonight.
The fog rose again, thicker than before, as if it wanted to swallow the mountain whole. Lin Yuan ran breathlessly, surrounded by the shouts of villagers and the crackling of torches. When he reached the wooden house, A Qing stood at the door, her gray clothes soaked and clinging to her body as if she had just been pulled from water. She looked up at him; there was no smile in her eyes: “You shouldn’t have come.” He gasped for breath and pulled her inside: “They want to catch you; we need to run!” A Qing didn’t move but stared at him for a moment before softly saying, “There’s no escape.”
The firelight surged up from below like a fiery serpent. Wang Wu shouted until his voice was hoarse: “The Fox Spirit is over there! Don’t let her escape!” Lin Yuan pulled A Qing back, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground. Panic surged through him: “What are you doing just standing there?” She didn’t answer; instead, she gently pushed him aside and walked toward the firelight.
The villagers closed in around them; torchlight flickered wildly before their eyes. Someone threw a stone that landed at A Qing’s feet; she didn’t flinch. Wang Wu raised his sickle and bellowed: “Show your true form! Stop pretending!” Lin Yuan rushed forward to block him, but A Qing turned back to look at him with eyes that sparkled with something—was it tears or blades? He froze for a moment; before he could react, that layer of gray clothing suddenly dissolved away like smoke.
A claw emerged from the fog—white fur sharp at the tips—scraping across the ground and leaving deep marks. The firelight danced on her face as it transformed; her eyes elongated and narrowed while her mouth split open to reveal two rows of sharp teeth. Lin Yuan felt his legs go weak as he dropped his bow to the ground; his mind buzzed with confusion. The crowd erupted into chaos—some shouted "monster," while others fled backward—but Wang Wu did not retreat; he swung his sickle forward without hesitation. A Qing did not dodge; her body swayed slightly as mist enveloped her like a living thing sweeping toward the crowd.
Lin Yuan stood frozen in place, watching helplessly as she lunged at Wang Wu. With a swipe of her claw, blood splattered everywhere. Wang Wu fell to the ground as torches crashed down beside him, crackling ominously. She turned back to look at Lin Yuan; her eyes still held that elongated shape but now contained something more—a mix of sorrow and danger. He wanted to scream but found himself voiceless.
Lin Yuan crouched on the ground, trembling hands unable to grasp his bowstring. The fog wrapped around him thick with blood's metallic scent that invaded his nostrils; his stomach churned violently. Was that really A Qing? That face and those claws seemed like something crawling out from his nightmares. Memories flashed through his mind—the way she smiled while skinning rabbits, how cold her hands felt when she pulled him down the slope at night, and that shadow under the moonlight that had seemed so vague yet familiar. He told himself she had saved him once, but now that face shattered his heart into pieces.
He looked up; she stood in the mist with a low growl that sounded both like a fox and like a person crying. He wanted to run but found his legs too weak as if they were stuck in mud. Her gaze locked onto him as if trying to draw out his very soul. Suddenly he remembered uncle Zhang ’s words: when Azure Smoke appears, disaster is not far behind. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against the ground trying to stand up when that low sound echoed again in his ears like needles piercing through flesh. He covered his head as her voice filled his mind: “You shouldn’t have come.”
He gasped for breath, tears mingling with sweat streaming down his face. He was scared, truly scared—not of her face, but of what lay hidden in her eyes. He couldn't understand; had she really been making him laugh and grilling meat for him these past few days? Was it all genuine? The moment her claw sliced through Wang Wu, his heart stopped, as if someone had gripped his throat. He looked up at her; she remained still, but the mist enveloped her, as if it were trying to swallow her whole.
As the fog cleared slightly, the villagers had vanished without a trace, leaving only Wang Wu's blood pooling on the ground like a dark red river. A Qing stood there, looking down at Lin Yuan, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her voice was barely above a whisper: "You shouldn't have stayed." Lin Yuan didn't move, staring at her, wanting to ask something, but no words could escape his throat. She turned away, the mist swirling around her as she drifted up the mountain, her claws leaving the last marks on the ground.
He struggled to his feet, his legs still trembling, leaving his bow on the ground. He glanced back at the village entrance; the flames still flickered, as if calling him to return. But he didn't move. Instead, he looked up at the mountain, where something resembling Azure Smoke seemed to rise within the mist, a low rumble echoing around the mountain peak. His heart sank as her words echoed in his mind: "You shouldn't have stayed."
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