Chapter 16

Happy to see us?

But every record and rumor said the Shengmiao people hated outsiders.

Yet Shen Jianqing had welcomed us with such warmth. Maybe the village that raised him wasn’t so cold after all.

Books and reports only tell you so much—seeing the world for yourself, that’s the real truth.

Wen Lingyu set her bowl down and said with a smile, “I was worried we might not be welcome here, but hearing you say that makes me feel a lot better.”

After dinner, Shen Jianqing led us toward the Shengmiao settlement.

From up on the cliff earlier, we’d seen their cooking smoke rising into the air and thought the village couldn’t be far. But it turned out they were on the other side of the mountain, and we had to make a wide detour around the base before reaching them.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, we rounded a bend—and the view suddenly opened wide before us.

The dense forest thinned away, revealing a clear, winding river hidden deep among the mountains. The water spread broad and still, with a graceful stone arch bridge stretching across it like a rainbow. On both banks, lush grass swayed in the wind, and clusters of reeds bowed low together, whispering softly.

Beyond the river, the land rolled gently between mountain and water, rich and fertile. Farmland lay neatly divided by gray ridges, young crops painting the fields a vivid green.

Farther in the distance, at the foot of a bamboo-covered slope, stood rows of stilt houses. They were built according to the rise and fall of the terrain, scattered but never isolated from one another—like a village grown organically from the mountain itself.

It was a scene out of a fairytale—a paradise untouched by time.

“Whoa…” Qiu Lu’s eyes widened in awe. “This place is gorgeous! I never thought something like this could exist here!”

Unlike the cities we grew up in, this beauty had nothing to do with steel, glass, or electricity. It was something purer—like nature’s quiet answer after enlightenment.

A proud smile lifted the corner of Shen Jianqing’s lips. “And how does it compare to the place you come from?”

Qiu Lu waved his hands quickly. “It’s not the same! This—this is totally different!”

Shen Jianqing tilted his head, his long, narrow eyes gleaming with a peculiar focus. “If you had to choose, would you stay here?”

His gaze didn’t leave my face as he spoke. It felt like he wasn’t asking all of us—just me. Remembering what he’d asked earlier in the kitchen, my chest tightened.

Maybe I was overthinking. He was young, straightforward, and probably didn’t mean anything by it. We were both men, after all—it was just me reading too much into things.

At that moment, Wen Lingyu happened to step forward, unintentionally positioning herself between us. Her movement blocked Shen Jianqing’s line of sight, and I let out a subtle breath of relief.

Qiu Lu said cheerfully, “If it were up to me, I’d still go home. This place is beautiful, sure—but it’s more like a vacation spot. There’s no electricity, no Wi-Fi, no way to charge our phones or go online. What can we even do here?”

Xu Zirong immediately chimed in, all earnest devotion: “Wherever Lulu is, that’s where I want to be for the rest of my life.”

Qiu Lu nudged his arm with her head and laughed, and the two of them started fooling around again.

“This place is really peaceful,” Wen Lingyu said softly. “If I could, I think I’d like to stay here. What about you, Li Yuze?”

“Me?” I blinked. I’d never considered the question—it didn’t feel like one that applied to my life. “I don’t really have a choice like that, so… I’m not sure.”

“I see…” Shen Jianqing murmured, his voice low, the rest of his words swallowed by the wind.

“What did you say?” Xu Zirong asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go.”

He took the lead again, walking ahead.

We followed him down to the embankment. The wind by the river was fierce; Qiu Lu’s and Wen Lingyu’s long hair whipped wildly around them.

The stone bridge had wooden railings on both sides, and tied along them were countless red silk ribbons fluttering in the wind—rustling, whispering, almost alive. Some ribbons were bright and new, their color vivid and full, while others had faded so completely that their original red was barely visible.

“What’s this?” Qiu Lu asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. She reached out to touch one—

—but before her fingers made contact, Shen Jianqing grabbed her wrist sharply.

“Don’t.” His voice was cold and cutting, offering no gentleness just because she was a woman.

Qiu Lu winced. “Ouch—that hurts!”

Xu Zirong stepped forward protectively, but Shen Jianqing had already let go.

A dark red handprint bloomed around Qiu Lu’s pale wrist—he hadn’t held back at all. Xu Zirong’s face darkened, ready to argue, but Qiu Lu caught his sleeve, stopping him.

“What is this? Some kind of taboo?” I asked, stepping quickly between the two of them before things could escalate. They were standing close, so my sudden movement made it look like I was the one pressing into Shen Jianqing’s space instead.

I thought he’d move aside—but he didn’t. He just looked down at me quietly, unmoving, his feet rooted to the ground.

It was Xu Zirong who finally retreated a few steps, tugged back by Qiu Lu, easing the tension.

Shen Jianqing said flatly, “Each of these red ribbons represents someone who has died.”

We froze.

He continued, “There’s not much land here. When people die, they can’t be buried. So we cremate them, scatter their ashes into the river, and tie a red ribbon to the bridge in remembrance. We believe their souls drift with the current—and when they pass here again, the red ribbons will remind them where home is.”

So that’s what they meant. No wonder he’d reacted so strongly—touching those ribbons would’ve been like stomping on someone’s ancestral grave.

Qiu Lu’s face turned pale. She clasped her hands together and bowed apologetically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. I thought it was like those tourist things—red strings for love or wishing trees or something like that. I didn’t mean to offend anyone, really!”

Shen Jianqing’s tone softened slightly. “You didn’t know. I won’t blame you. Let’s keep going.”

We crossed the arch bridge behind him. As we walked, I couldn’t help studying the ribbons more closely. On some, I noticed faint embroidery done in dark red thread—crude, uneven characters I couldn’t read. They must’ve been names, each one marking a different soul.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of one ribbon that hadn’t fully faded yet.

And there—stitched clearly among the others—was a Chinese character.

Hmm? Chinese characters?

I turned my head to look again. But in that brief moment, a gust of wind swept through, and the ribbons began to flutter wildly. The one I’d just seen disappeared back into the swarm, lost from sight.

Maybe I was just seeing things.

“What’s wrong, Aze?” The others had already crossed the bridge, and I was still standing there like I was daydreaming. Xu Zirong called out to me.

“It’s nothing,” I said, catching up to them. “Just taking a look.”

“What’s there to look at?” Qiu Lu muttered under her breath. “After hearing what they mean, I think it’s kind of creepy.”
Her voice was low enough that Shen Jianqing probably didn’t hear—his steps didn’t even pause.

The boy’s figure in the dark blue tunic was tall and straight. The black sash at his waist was tied tight, emphasizing his slim waist and broad shoulders—like a solitary bamboo in the wind.

“I actually think it’s kind of beautiful,” Wen Lingyu said softly.

Qiu Lu stuck out her tongue and made a playful face to show she disagreed.

After crossing the bridge, the path turned into a stone-paved road. The stones were uneven in length and width, but finely polished and smooth to walk on. Considering the tools they must have had back then, crafting this road must’ve been a serious undertaking.

The end of the stone path connected to the edge of the fields. The smell of soil and crops came rushing in, filling the air with the freshness of farmland.

The fields were full of lush plants—I could recognize cucumbers and some kinds of beans, but the rest were a mystery. No wonder my father always scolded me for “not knowing one grain from another.”

It was just past noon, the sun blazing overhead, beating down on the empty fields.

“This is where we plant,” Shen Jianqing said. “The village is ahead.”

He stepped onto a narrow dirt ridge barely wide enough for two feet. The path was soft underfoot, uneven, with tufts of green weeds poking through. Thankfully, the day was dry—if it had rained, it would’ve been a muddy mess.

We walked single file through the vegetable patches, past ponds and fruit trees, until the stilted houses came into view.

Then, a bright voice rang out—sharp and clear—and the sound of running feet followed.

I turned toward the source of the noise. On a small hill among the stilt houses, a girl in a red Miao skirt was waving at us excitedly, calling out in a language I didn’t understand. She looked about fifteen or sixteen, her voice light and tinkling like wind chimes.

“She’s calling you?” I asked Shen Jianqing.

His face darkened as he stared up at the girl. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his brows furrowed unconsciously. The silver butterfly-shaped ornament in his hair caught the sunlight, flashing so brightly it almost hurt to look at.

When he wasn’t smiling, Shen Jianqing always gave off a quiet, brooding intensity.

Qiu Lu noticed his expression and asked hesitantly, “She’s… your friend?”

“Just someone I know,” he said, his tone shifting to weary resignation.

As we watched, the girl came halfway down the hill, then suddenly stopped. Her big round eyes darted between us, full of curiosity and uncertainty—like she wanted to come closer but wasn’t sure if she should.

Finally, she mustered her courage and ran toward us.

Thinking girls might be easier to approach, Qiu Lu smiled warmly and took a few steps forward. But before she could say a word, the girl darted behind Shen Jianqing and hid there.

“Ah-na…”

She whispered something in Miao, too soft for me to catch.

Shen Jianqing turned and spoke to her in the same tongue. Reluctantly, she stepped out from behind him, gave us a wary sideways glance, then took off running toward the cluster of stilted houses.