YCY - 6

Chapter 6: A Heart Lost in the Vastness of the World

I was plunged into endless darkness, yet the faint scent lingered at the tip of my nose. What had happened? An overwhelming sense of fear rose uncontrollably within me as I tried to regain control of my body. Like a wisp of cloud drifting through the night, no matter how hard I tried to steady myself, I was rootless—unable to control my movements, scattered and adrift. Helplessly, I searched through the vast emptiness, desperate to find an exit. But the farther I reached, the more distant it seemed, each step filled with hesitation and longing.

I don’t know how long it had been when the sound of rustling broke through the haze, clearing the fog in my mind. Toward the dim light in the corner, I moved forward until finally, I opened my eyes.

Still unable to move below my neck, I greedily took in my surroundings. Above me was a canopy of oil-yellow canvas, and beneath me, the surface swayed slightly, rocking gently.

“Lei River flows long, connecting all directions.” A clear voice sang from outside the tent, accompanied by the rhythmic creaking of oars and the splashing of paddles. We were on water.

“On the river, a young man sings aloud; on the shore, a maiden pours out her heart. The nine paths are fragrant, and the youth in green robes departs. Since you left, I’ve only the silk curtains to gaze upon. Who will deliver my letter, carrying my wishes to the three lights?”

The folk song carried a deep sense of longing. Feeling the dry cracks on my lips, I instinctively licked them and cleared my throat. Suddenly, I realized I couldn’t make a sound. Opening my mouth wide, I tried to hum softly, but my lips only felt the faintest breath—no words came. Panic surged within me as I strained my throat desperately. After a while, I closed my mouth and stared blankly at the tent.

I was mute. Truly, utterly mute.

Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together, a wave of sorrow washing over me. After a moment, I opened my tear-blurred eyes and turned my head to search for my mother. Through the murky glow filtering through the yellowish canvas, I looked up to see a small four-legged table before me, with a dim oil lamp resting on it. Turning my head further, I noticed two flat bundles beside me, seemingly empty.

The boat’s curtain was lifted, and the brilliant sunlight stung my eyes, forcing them shut. “Husband, Qing’er has awakened,” a crisp voice said as I felt myself being gently lifted. Struggling to open my eyes, everything was blindingly bright. As my vision cleared, I finally saw the person holding me—a middle-aged woman wrapped in a blue floral headscarf, dressed in coarse cloth, with delicate eyebrows like blades of grass and a round face like the full moon. She was unremarkable, ordinary.

Qing’er? Was she referring to me? What was this act? Narrowing my eyes, I studied her curiously. A cold smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she softly cooed, “Good girl~” Her fingertips pressed harshly against my cheek, leaving a stinging sensation.

With frantic eyes, I asked silently: Good girl? And if I’m not? Who are you? Where is my mother? Where am I? Where are we going?

She shifted her gaze to the curtain, ignoring me completely.

“Thud.” A dull thump shook the boat, as if we’d collided with something.

“Wife, we’ve reached the shore. Bring Qing’er out to see the sunlight,” a rough voice called out. Large, calloused hands pulled back the curtain, revealing a square, slightly dark face outside the cabin—another forgettable visage.

Helplessly, I was cradled by the woman as she stepped off the boat. On the gray stone dock stood the man in green, placing several copper coins into the boatman’s palm. He bowed slightly, his smile guileless. “Thank you, old sir. This is for the fare. Please accept it.”

Squinting, I glanced at the slightly tilted sun. Turning my head, I realized I was now in a bustling dock. Looking down at the gray cloth covering my body and observing the throngs of people around me, I recalled the boat song I’d heard earlier. The quiet, wide river behind us must have been the Lei River.

My mother had once told me that this vast continent had three great rivers. The longest was the Yue River, flowing through Jing, Yi, Yong, and You. The second was the Chi River, passing through Jing, Qing, and Liang. The shortest was the Lei River before me now. All three originated from the central plateau of Jing, which was why Jing, though small, remained a key player among the five great nations.

Following the crowd, we slowly advanced. Soon, a slate-gray city gate came into view. Two black characters were inscribed on the wall: Border City.

Suddenly, the flow of people halted. My eyes widened as I looked ahead. At the city gate, a line had formed, stretching in a straight row. What was happening? I felt the woman’s body stiffen slightly, and I frowned in confusion, looking up at her. She exchanged a glance with the man in green, her eyes darting, then fixed a cold stare on me, tightening her grip.

The line moved slowly, like the gentle flow of the Lei River. As we neared the gate, I faintly heard rough shouts: “Next! Move along!” The guards seemed to be inspecting something. Could they be searching for me and my mother? Excitement surged within me as I widened my eyes, hoping for rescue.

“Next!” The man in green held the woman tightly as she carried me, standing obediently in line. A guard in ochre-red armor held a piece of paper, scrutinizing the woman and me. He pursed his lips, waving dismissively. “Next!”

I bit down hard on my lower lip, tears streaming down my face. Eyes wide, I stared imploringly at the guard: Don’t let them pass. Please, save me.

The woman tightened her grip on my body, her gaze menacing, as if issuing a silent threat. Ignoring the pain, I frantically shook my neck, my disheveled hair sticking to my cheeks. I tilted my head back, gazing pitifully at the guard in ochre.

“Wait!” A bearded guard with a protruding belly stepped forward, blocking their path. He pulled out a drawing, studying me carefully. Eyes wide, he barked, “Who is this little girl to you?”

The man in green gently touched my forehead, explaining calmly, “I am Tang Zhong, traveling with my wife and daughter to visit relatives in Qianzhou. Unfortunately, during our journey, our mischievous daughter fell into the river and caught a chill, leaving her frightened.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I shook my head furiously, glaring at the bearded man, unable to speak but pleading with my gaze: It’s not true! Don’t believe him!

“Qing’er? Qing’er! Child, are you alright? Don’t scare your mother!” The woman turned me toward her, pressing the back of my head and pulling me tightly into her chest. “Husband! Husband! What should we do? Waaaah, my poor daughter!” She began to sob softly. I tried to wriggle free, but my body was stiff, and the only part I could move—my neck—was firmly locked in her grip.

“This child… is mute?” The guard’s voice was low and somber.

“Yes,” the man sighed deeply.

“All right, all right, move along. Once inside the city, find a clinic. Such fright in children can be treated.”

“Thank you.” Crushed against the woman’s chest, I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as despair settled in my heart.

After a long while, the pressure on the back of my head eased. Sniffling, I raised my tear-blurred eyes and glared fiercely at the two of them.

“Third Brother, this child has quite the stubborn spirit,” the woman with the blue floral scarf said, rolling up her sleeves and wiping my lips with a smile.

The man in green glanced at me expressionlessly, sneering, “Once we reach Qianzhou, this child will no longer be our concern. Shi Jiu, don’t grow too attached to her.”

Attached? This was attachment?! I shot him a glare, turning my head to study the surroundings. Unlike the intricate elegance of You’s capital, the buildings here were simple, made of gray bricks and tiles. Focusing, I listened to the lively cries from the marketplace, nothing like the soft, sweet dialect of the capital. True to its name, Border City was indeed on the frontier of You.

I felt the woman named Shi Jiu stop walking and looked ahead. A string of yellow lanterns hung high on stone pillars, with three flattened clerical script characters written on them: Little Inn.

Turning my head, I noticed the man in green’s lips twitch slightly. Pressed against Shi Jiu’s chest, I felt her exhale softly. Was this little inn their territory? Who were they?

A young man in coarse, earth-yellow clothing stood at the entrance, eagerly greeting us. “Honored guests, are you stopping for a meal or lodging?”

“Lodging,” Tang Zhong replied curtly.

“How many rooms? What kind?” The young man rubbed his hands together, leading them into the hall.

“One room, Room D. A view of trees outside, spacious inside.”

“Got it!” The young man raised his voice, calling out, “Boss, three travelers, one Room D!”

I was carried into a room at the far western end of the second floor. Shi Jiu tossed me onto the bed. With a flick of her hand, the curtains slid shut, blocking my view. The door clicked softly as it closed.

“Little Artemisia greets the Hall Master.” It was the young man’s voice. So, this place truly belonged to them.

“Have Old Six and the others arrived?” Tang Zhong’s voice was low and authoritative.

“Sixth Master and Eleventh Miss crossed the border smoothly the day before yesterday.”

The sound of a stool scraping against the floor echoed. Shi Jiu sighed softly, “Third Brother, it seems the land route is faster after all.”

“No rush. We still have three days until delivery.” The sound of water being poured made me lick my dry, cracked lips. I was so thirsty.

“Little Artemisia, are the carriages ready?”

“In response to the Hall Master, they were prepared yesterday. We can depart tonight. Qianzhou has already been notified, and someone will meet us upon arrival.”

They had set up multiple hidden posts within You’s borders—clearly, this was no small organization. Thinking carefully, it must have been the incense. Before leaving, Hongluo had quietly closed the doors and windows to maximize the effects of the Essence of All Fragrances. In other words, this was Consort Shu’s plot.

But who were these people? Were they officials? Bandits? Soldiers? Where was Qianzhou? Why had they taken such risks to kidnap me? And where was my mother? Was she in their hands?

The more I thought, the more tangled everything became. This was undoubtedly a conspiracy, but who were they targeting through me? Thousands of threads intertwined in my mind. Calming myself, I began unraveling them one by one, inching closer to the truth. Just as I was about to reach clarity, the bed curtains were abruptly pulled back, interrupting my train of thought.

“Little girl, hungry?” Shi Jiu smiled warmly, lifting me into her arms.

My forehead rested against her chin, and I felt her skin—dry and rough, strangely unfamiliar. Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head up and suddenly noticed a faint line along her jaw. Had she disguised herself? My eyelids twitched, and I swallowed nervously. So, they were people of the江湖 (jianghu).

By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, we were already in the inn’s main hall on the first floor. Shi Jiu sat down slowly, cradling me as if in affection, and lightly tapped my lips. She waved to a server, “Young man, bring us some tea.”

“Coming right up~”

“Third Brother, look how dry Qing’er’s lips are,” Shi Jiu gently patted my head, speaking softly. “Let’s have some noodles tonight—they’re cheap and filling.”

“All right, as my wife wishes,” Tang Zhong’s previously cold demeanor melted into a warm, tender smile. “Server, bring us three bowls of dry-mixed noodles.”

“Got it! Please wait a moment.”

I was forced to drink a cup of tea and eat a bowl of noodles. Feeling fuller and slightly more alert, I began observing my surroundings. The sky grew darker, and the lanterns outside the inn were lit, casting a warm glow. The hall buzzed with activity. How could I escape under their watchful eyes? If I didn’t act tonight, once we boarded the carriage, escape would be impossible. Closing my eyes, I furrowed my brow and began shaking my head.

Shi Jiu pinched my chin, her fingers tightening, but her voice remained eerily gentle. “What’s wrong?”

Pouting, I parted my lips, silently mouthing three words: Stomach hurts.

Shi Jiu narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping over my face for a long moment. Finally, she looked up at Tang Zhong. “Third Brother?”

He smiled without warmth, patting my head gently but staring intently at Shi Jiu. “Go ahead, Wife. Take good care of Qing’er.”

“Don’t worry~” Shi Jiu smiled faintly, carrying me toward the back of the hall.

Outside the latrine, a single lantern hung from the eaves, casting a weak light. Resting on Shi Jiu’s shoulder, I confirmed she couldn’t see my face before widening my eyes and locking my gaze onto the old man behind her. Initially gazing at the sky, he seemed to sense my stare and lowered his head, bewildered.

This was my last chance. I stared directly at him, my lips moving exaggeratedly: Save me!

The old man tilted his head, looking at me quizzically. After a moment, he smiled. Frustration and fear surged within me as tears spilled down my cheeks. Desperately, I mouthed again: Save me! Save me! Save me!

The old man seemed to understand. His beard trembled as he widened his eyes, focusing intently on my lips. Seizing the fleeting opportunity, I mouthed again: Save me!

He pointed to the back of Shi Jiu’s head, frowning. I shook my head slightly, tears streaming into my mouth, tasting bitter despair. Lips trembling, I pleaded silently: Save me!

The old man pursed his lips, trembling as he shuffled to stand in front of Shi Jiu. “You, release this child at once!”

Shi Jiu shifted her hold, cradling me horizontally against her chest. “Old man, what nonsense are you spouting?”

“This child isn’t yours!” The old man trembled with anger, raising his voice. “Help! Help!”

Shi Jiu lowered her head, shooting me a cold glance and smirking. “Old man, if you’re in a hurry to use the latrine, just say so. No need to fabricate such stories.”

Ignoring everything, I pressed my head against her chest, straining my neck muscles to arch my body, trying to break free.

“Fabricate stories? Look at this child! She doesn’t even want you!” Finally encountering a kind soul, the old man stood his ground, stamping his feet and shouting at the top of his lungs, “Help! There’s a kidnapper here!”

Hearing hurried footsteps, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Gratefully, I gazed at the old man, silently mouthing: Thank you.

“What’s the matter? What’s going on?” To my shock, it was the young man’s voice behind me. My heart sank—could there be no one else? Wait, there was still the person in the latrine, my final hope.

The wooden door creaked open, and I turned expectantly. The innkeeper emerged with a smile, walking slowly toward us. I stared at him blankly, my heart growing cold.

“You two arrived just in time,” the old man pointed at Shi Jiu, his voice trembling. “This woman is a kidnapper!”

Cowering in Shi Jiu’s arms, I stared at the old man in terror, my mouth opening wide: Run! Run!

The old man nodded at me, offering a comforting look. I shook my head wildly, tears blurring my vision, my throat trembling as I silently mouthed: Run! Run!

Run! It’ll be too late if you don’t! They’re all in this together! I… I don’t want to drag you into this…

A haze clouded my vision. Through it, I saw the short, thin figure slowly collapse, despair biting into my soul as I clamped down hard on my lip.

“Little Artemisia, clean this up properly,” Shi Jiu said coldly, stepping over the body on the ground. I turned my head, feeling icy tears slide down my temples. The night stretched endlessly, the lanterns dim, my body lifeless, my heart ashes.

Unfeeling, unseeing, detached. Though I hadn’t killed Bo Ren, he had died because of me. My rashness, my selfishness, had cost this kind-hearted old man his life.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck my face, jolting me awake. I stared blankly at Shi Jiu’s clenched jaw as she glared at me, teeth grinding. “Little wench, you’re quite cunning!” Coming to my senses, I glanced around, realizing we were back in the room.

Just as I caught sight of Tang Zhong entering, another fierce slap sent me flying. My cheek slammed into the edge of the table, a metallic tang flooding my mouth, my gums burning with pain. Spitting out a mouthful of saliva, I saw a tooth mixed with blood—white and ghastly, sending a shiver through me.

“That’s enough, Shi Jiu,” Tang Zhong said in a low voice, halting the enraged woman.

I felt a sharp pinch on my face, my jaw aching. Grimacing, I looked up to see Tang Zhong staring at me coldly. “If this cargo gets damaged, our entire trip will have been for nothing.”

With that, he raised his right hand and swung it down forcefully.

A numbing sensation shot through the back of my neck, the world spinning chaotically before my eyes. Once again, I lost consciousness.