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墨書 Inktalez
They left, and San Chun clutched her stomach as she walked out of Horse Riding Slope. After walking half a mile, she suddenly realized something critical: she was lucky to be lost.
It had been smooth sailing when she came at night, but by daybreak, she was a bit unsure of her direction. She turned around for half an hour without finding the way and had no choice but to head back, fantasizing about a handsome young man discovering her and coming to her rescue like a hero.
Unfortunately, there were no heroes, but plenty of bugs. Being lost wasn’t the problem; it was that she was hungry and uncomfortable, her stomach rumbling loudly—bang bang—bang bang.
Just as her keen eyes caught sight of two plates of food on the ground, one with scrambled eggs and the other with stir-fried diced vegetables. The person who had offered them was considerate enough to leave a pair of chopsticks. It was obvious that this food was abandoned; the coffin was gone, so what was there to fear about the owner rising up to snatch it from her?
She sat down on the ground, shoveling food into her mouth while chatting with the dug-up pit. The owner might be gone, but there was still a wooden tablet standing there.
She didn’t know what compelled her, but the more she looked at the wooden tablet, the more familiar the name "A-Dan" seemed. It felt like she had heard someone call it before. As she stared longer, that sense of familiarity grew stronger, and she even began to wonder if that name belonged to her as well. Then… her scalp tingled.
Not caring about eating anymore, she threw the wooden tablet away and called out, “We’ve met before; don’t blame me for eating your food, and I won’t blame you for scaring me…”
That didn’t seem right. After a moment’s pause, she added, “Let’s just bury you properly.”
She tossed the wooden tablet into the grave, kicked some dirt over it, and dumped the remaining food in as well before quickly running away. She feared that if she stayed any longer, she might suddenly find herself lying inside it—that would be disastrous.
After wandering in the woods for a while longer without finding a way out, she suddenly heard many voices calling from afar: “San Chun—San Chun—”
Were the villagers looking for her?
She felt exhilarated and hurried a few steps forward, spotting Qing leading a group of villagers coming toward her from a distance.
It must have been at least several dozen miles from the village to here; they had probably been searching for her all night.
A mix of emotions surged within her—warmth and sorrow—and tears streamed down her face. She wished she could throw herself into Qing's arms and cry heartily. Repeatedly in her mind, she thought: he still cares about her; he is still the best to her.
Qing also saw her; his face looked as dark as if it had been washed with ink. He pointed at her nose with his finger and said, “Crying? How dare you cry? Do you know how many people have been looking for you all night? Whether you want to be willful or act recklessly, it’s unreasonable to put so many people at risk!”
Although he was scolding her with every word, San Chun felt warm inside. She never expected Qing to put so much thought into her. It should be known that there were very few men in the village, and they usually didn't care about others' affairs. The dozen or so strong men who came today must have been recruited by him, going door to door to help find her.
Such a thing would be impossible for an ordinary person; this was the result of his good deeds in healing and often helping the villagers with their ailments.
He was willing to do this for her, and even if he felt wronged, he accepted it.
Her heart had already softened, but she said, "It's none of your business."
Qing shot her a cold glance. "Who wants to take care of you? Taking care of chickens and dogs is better than taking care of you."
She retorted, "It's better to deal with chickens and dogs than with you."
Qing gritted his teeth. San Chun's personality was always like this; she usually didn't speak much, but when she did, she could easily provoke others. He often felt like he could spit blood from anger and had thought countless times about giving her a good squeeze around the neck.
Perhaps she wasn't always like this; a beautiful woman with a sharp tongue—who could like that?
Her bad temper was one thing, but what was most deadly was her ability to deceive others, which seemed to be a quick study.
He remembered that after she had recovered for a month, one day she suddenly wanted to learn medicine from him, aiming to become a renowned doctor who could heal people. He had never taught anyone before; it was a good thing that someone wanted to learn, so he found some medical books for her to look at first. But after just three days of reading, she dared to make a move on him.
It was a bowl of fragrant tea that she politely handed to him.
He had never seen her so diligent before, and he looked at her curiously. When their eyes met, her hand froze mid-air, trembling as she placed the cup on the edge of the table. With a forced smile, she took a step back toward the door seam and in the blink of an eye slipped outside.
Such a suspicious posture made it hard not to be wary. He glanced over casually and said, "The poison in this cup seems a bit excessive." Was her first act of wanting to learn medicine about poisoning him?
San Chun glanced at the tea that still looked normal and exclaimed, "How did you know I put an entire packet in?"
She made a large gesture, her finger tapping on the rim of the cup, "…the tea has turned white." Or it might not even be called tea; it would be more appropriate to call it porridge.
San Chun was recognized by someone and, feeling frustrated, bumped her head against the wall. It was no wonder she had achieved nothing; she couldn't even poison properly and still wanted to learn medicine?
Noticing her dejection, he put down his book and feigned interest, asking her, "What kind of poison is that?"
San Chun suddenly perked up and explained to him, "It's still from what I learned in books, a deadly poison made from Rhubarb, Glauber's salt, Bitter Orange, and Thick-skinned."
Qing: "…"
Rhubarb, Glauber's salt, Bitter Orange, Thick-skinned—those were all laxatives that could cause diarrhea…
Thinking back on those past events only intensified her desire to get rid of her; in his previous life, he must have done something terrible to end up encountering her.
At this moment, he coldly smiled and said, "Are you following dogs and chickens? Too bad you've lived with me for two years." If he was a chicken or a dog, what was she?
San Chun wanted to retort but was grabbed by the arm. "There won't be another time; don't expect me to have the time to look for you again. Why are you still dawdling? Hurry up and leave."
"Understood."
San Chun wiped away a tear, feeling quite pleased despite being scolded.
A group of people returned to the village. On the way, someone asked her what had happened that night and if there were any surprises. She thought for a moment but decided not to say anything. What had happened was too bizarre and strange, involving powerful individuals; she feared that if anyone found out, they would silence her.
Qing kept making sarcastic remarks at her all the way until they reached the door, only stopping when she entered. Perhaps she had spat too much while talking and went off to find water.
Sister Zhu heard her return and struggled to get out of bed, grabbing her hand and complaining for a while. It was only then that she realized they were talking about the hen that had been running around in the yard last night, not her.
The chicken never lays eggs; it only eats and sleeps, even more shameless than her.
"Sister, I've always regarded you as my own sister. You should trust me," Zhu suddenly started coughing violently, as if trying to cough out all the fat.
Qing came to support her, his expression unusually serious. He glanced at San Chun, who was standing there like a nuisance, and couldn't help but glare at her fiercely.
San Chun wisely stepped aside, thinking that Zhu's illness was getting worse.
Qing helped Zhu into the inner room and whispered, "Why don't we leave this place and find somewhere more prosperous? It would be easier to find a doctor to check on your illness."
Zhu smiled faintly; she knew that in this place where medical resources were scarce, it was really difficult to recover. However, with her identity, where could she go? She feared that just showing up would stir up a bloody storm. In that case, not only would she ruin herself, but she would also implicate him.
"Let's talk about this later."
"Alright." He sighed and went to prepare medicine for her.
San Chun had been eavesdropping at the doorframe, pondering whether they would really leave this place. If they did leave, would they take her with them?
The thought of them possibly abandoning her made her inexplicably anxious. This time she had run away not because she truly wanted to leave; she just wanted to scare them a little and prove her existence. She didn't want to leave them at all; not even a bit. Otherwise, where could she find such a good place with free food and shelter?
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