Chapter 14

Among us, some had bungee-jumped, some had paraglided—but always with safety gear and careful preparation.

Now, staring at a rope ladder dangling in midair with no harness, no rail, nothing between us and a hundred-meter drop—none of us were eager to be the first.

Even someone without a fear of heights would feel their knees weaken at the sight.

Shen Jianqing seemed to sense our hesitation. A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “If you’re scared,” he said lightly, “you can stay.”

His tone was teasing but oddly sharp. He raised an eyebrow at me.

I clenched my fists at my sides. No way I was backing down.

Before I could speak, soft-spoken Wen Lingyu beat me to it. “You look younger than we are,” she said steadily. “If you can climb down, so can I.”

That surprised me. Wen Lingyu had been quiet and gentle the whole trip, barely raising her voice, never complaining. I hadn’t expected this kind of steel beneath the calm.

Shen Jianqing’s eyes flickered, glancing her way. His gaze was lazy, almost careless—but from my angle, the faint red mark on his eyelid caught the light, echoing the gleam of the silver in his hair and the choker at his throat. The combination lent him a strange, exotic allure—beauty so sharp it almost hurt to look at.

I’d never thought to describe a boy as beautiful, but with him, no other word fit.

Not to be outdone, Xu Zirong laughed. “I’ve gone skydiving before. This looks like a thrill. Let’s see what it’s got!” His voice rose at the end, full of reckless excitement.

Qiu Lu rolled her eyes. “Fine, Mr. Thrill-Seeker. But if I fall, I’m dragging you down with me, Xu. Zi. Rong!”

Despite our nerves, our little team was still holding together. I’d been worried someone would chicken out, but apparently not.

“I’ve got a few carabiners,” I said. “But only enough rope for two. The girls get them. I’ll watch over Wen Lingyu—Xu Zirong, you take care of Qiu Lu. Deal?”

Xu Zirong thumped his chest, flexing an arm. “You got it.”

“Then let’s go,” Shen Jianqing said—and without another word, he gripped the chains and began his descent down the trembling ladder.

That rope ladder looked dangerous as hell—there was no way to carry anything heavy down with us. I shoved a few essentials into my pockets: bug repellent, a voice recorder, and a lighter. My backpack held only the camera and a few basic supplies.

I swallowed hard, forcing down the fear that rose in my chest, and followed behind Shen Jianqing. My palms were slick with sweat; I wiped them on my pants and tried to stop my body from trembling. Testing the first step with my foot, I felt the cold iron chain under my sole, then lowered myself carefully. My other foot searched for the next rung while my hands gripped the chains on both sides in a deathlock. I hooked myself firmly onto the ladder.

Suddenly, I felt something tighten around my ankle—warmth seeped through the fabric of my pants and touched my skin. Looking down, I saw Shen Jianqing with one hand holding the ladder, the other firmly wrapped around my ankle. When our eyes met, he gave me a bright smile and guided my foot onto the next step.

My heart, which had been dangling in my throat, finally settled.

He looked up at me and said softly, in a voice only I could hear, “Don’t be scared. I’ve got you.”

My pupils contracted.

He saw right through me.

I actually have acrophobia. I thought I’d hidden it well. I thought no one had noticed. But this boy—who clearly looked younger than me—just told me not to be afraid, that he was there.

Of course I was moved. I gave him a shaky, awkward smile, took a few deep breaths, bit down on my lip, and tightened my grip on the chains.

Behind me was Wen Lingyu. She had a rope tied around her waist with a carabiner at the end, so she could clip herself to the ladder for safety. It slowed her down a bit since she had to unclip and reclip every few steps, but right now, we cared more about safety than speed.

She moved carefully, step by step, and once I saw she was steady, I finally relaxed a little.

Next were Xu Zirong and Qiu Lu.

So there we were—five people dangling off the same chain like a string of grasshoppers.

With so many of us on it, the rope ladder kept swaying. Every step had to be taken with caution to avoid slipping. My fingers clenched the chains so hard my joints locked up, muscles aching as the strain slowly seeped through my limbs. The repetitive movements dulled the fear in my chest. At least my legs had stopped trembling.

I completely lost track of time. It felt like we’d been climbing forever, yet the ladder still stretched endlessly below us.

Then, from above, Qiu Lu groaned, “I can’t… I’m exhausted… You guys go on first. I’ll catch up.”

Xu Zirong immediately said, “I’ll stay with you.”

I looked up—the cliff top was already far behind us. Looking down made my scalp crawl; the ground was dizzyingly far away. We were stuck in the middle, too high to go down quickly, too low to climb back up.

“Do you need a break?” came Shen Jianqing’s calm voice from below.

When I glanced down, he looked completely unfazed—his breathing steady, face dry, not even a drop of sweat. He held the chains casually, like he wasn’t suspended dozens of meters in the air but just swinging on a playground swing.

I couldn’t help but admire him.

“Yeah, we’ve been at it for a while,” I said.

It must’ve been past noon by now—the smoke rising from the valley below had vanished. From this height, we should’ve had a spectacular view, but none of us were in the mood to admire it.

After resting, we continued down.

With the earlier experience, we moved more steadily. No one spoke; everyone focused on each careful step. Another hour passed before we finally reached solid ground, safe and sound.

When my feet touched the earth, it felt unreal. My legs felt light, almost weightless, and I nearly collapsed.

“We actually made it down alive!” Qiu Lu was the last to reach the ground, supported by Xu Zirong. Relief and joy brightened his face.

From above, we’d been able to see the stilt houses easily. Now, standing among the trees, everything looked the same—dense branches and leaves stretching in every direction. Finding those houses again wouldn’t be so simple.

Truly, “You can’t see Mount Lu’s true face when you’re standing within the mountain.”

Here in Shidi Mountain, more than ever, we needed a guide. And since the locals didn’t speak our language, we needed a translator too.

And conveniently, both were standing right in front of us.

I braced myself and asked Shen Jianqing, “We don’t have anywhere to stay right now. Could we trouble you to let us stay at your place for a few days? Don’t worry—we’ll pay you.”

He lowered his eyes to look at me. It was the first time we’d stood this close. I hadn’t realized before how tall he was. Even though I’m six feet tall, he still edged me out by a bit, despite his lean frame.

Shen Jianqing shook his empty bamboo basket and said, “Why would you give me money?”

“Ah?” I blinked, thinking he might not understand the word. “Money means something you use for fair trade—it’s how we exchange things. Since we’re asking for your help, we should give you something in return. It’s only fair.”

“Fair trade…” he repeated softly. “You outsiders are strange. Do you really think everything can be solved with money?”

Xu Zirong raised an eyebrow and shot back, “Of course. With money, anything’s possible.”

“Ha…” Shen Jianqing’s lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. “I don’t use money—and I don’t need your kind of fair trade.”

Right. For him, renminbi probably wasn’t even valid currency here. That made things trickier. If money didn’t work, what would?

“What do you want, then?” Wen Lingyu asked gently.

Shen Jianqing frowned slightly, as if the question puzzled him. After a moment’s thought, something flickered in his eyes. He looked straight at me and said seriously, “Whatever I ask for—you’ll give it? Fairly?”

To win him over, I forced a smile and said, “As long as it’s something I can give, I’ll make it happen.”

Shen Jianqing finally seemed satisfied. His long brows eased as he said, “Li Yuze, I’ll remember your words. You’d better remember them too.”

His tone still carried that strange, lilting rhythm of his, but when he said my name, the pronunciation was flawless. Maybe hearing the others call me by name along the way had unconsciously helped him correct it.

After speaking, he turned and nodded toward Qiu Lu and the others. “Follow me,” he said simply, then strode forward to lead the way.

We followed closely behind.

A narrow path wound through the forest ahead—it was clear that people walked here often. The ground was firm, the trail visible, making it much easier than the climb earlier. Still, something about the place felt… off. The forest was unnervingly quiet. No birds, no rustling, not even the faint buzz of mosquitoes you’d expect in a mountain forest.

Maybe they’d all flown off somewhere else. It was such a trivial detail that I quickly brushed it from my mind.

Before long, a gray stilt house came into view.

It was the same one I’d seen earlier from the cliff—standing alone in the middle of the forest. The three-story structure leaned against the slope of the mountain, supported underneath by tall bamboo pillars. A short flight of stairs connected the front porch to the ground, and the eaves, edged with weathered green tiles, were carpeted in moss.

Shen Jianqing walked up the steps and pushed the door open with both hands.

He turned back to us, looking down from the doorway. “Come in,” he said. “This is my home.”