Chapter 20

Morning light filtered through the leaves, golden and bright, forming a holy beam that seemed perfectly aimed at Shen Jianqing, outlining him in a radiant halo.

I hesitated. “If something is troubling you, you can tell me. We’re friends. I won’t tell anyone.”

Shen Jianqing stepped closer, teeth lightly biting his lower lip, resembling a stray dog—small, delicate, and seemingly weary from the world.

And if it were a stray dog, it was a handsome one.

He sighed softly. After a long pause, he finally said, “Her name is Wan Ying. She’s the granddaughter of the leader.”

Of course—the elder I had seen that day was the village leader.

“No one here can oppose the leader. He is the master of this small world, almost like a god.”

It was absurd! This is a modern age—why resort to feudal petty tyrants?

“Did they bully you?” I asked, grasping his shoulders with concern.

He was taller than me by a fair margin. Though slender, holding him like this was still somewhat taxing.

If only Shen Jianqing were a little shorter… the thought suddenly popped into my head.

He hung his head, shaking it slowly, then after a moment, nodded slightly.

This posture—wasn’t it just like a child who’d been wronged, feeling upset but too scared to speak up?

I felt certain about my guess and said, “Don’t be afraid. Out here, we live in a society governed by law—no one can control your life at will. If they dare to bully you, we won’t just stand by!”

Shen Jianqing looked at me with wide, innocent eyes, full of hope. “Really? Is it really like that outside?”

I nodded firmly.

“Li Yuze… you won’t ignore me? You’ll help me all the time?”

“Of course!”

With my reassurance, Shen Jianqing finally opened up.

“Wan Ying and I… we have a… childhood bond. Since I was sixteen, she’s been chasing me. She’s the leader’s granddaughter, and I… I’m just an orphan. To avoid them, I moved into the forest to live alone. But recently, her insistence has grown stronger, and the leader has been pressuring me—I feel like I can’t breathe.”

So that was it.

Losing his parents had left him with no one to rely on. Her behavior—pressuring him, forcing closeness—was no different from coercion or an arranged marriage. He was young, innocent, and had spent his whole life confined to this small world. How could he possibly resist them?

The more I thought about it, the more I felt for him. No wonder the atmosphere between them had always felt strange. Shen Jianqing was such a kind, gentle person, yet he couldn’t even interact with a girl without tension. There had to be something beneath the surface.

“Don’t worry,” I said awkwardly. I had only ever seen something like this on TV—never in real life.

“I’m really scared… no one has ever helped me before…”

By the end, his voice carried the tremor of tears. Perhaps all the frustration he had kept bottled up inside was finally erupting. Perhaps he didn’t want me to see him in such a pitiful state. Suddenly, he raised his hands and hugged me tightly, burying his face in my shoulder.

He held on with all his strength, as if grasping the last straw for survival. I had no idea that his frail-looking frame could contain such power. His arms were like pincers, squeezing mine painfully, impossible to break free.

But I didn’t struggle. To refuse a desperate hug in this moment would have been cruel.

I wasn’t good at comforting people, so I could only lift my elbow gently—my upper arm pinned—pat his back, offering the simplest form of reassurance. For a long moment, we stood there in silence, neither of us speaking.

The forest was still and serene; not even a bird called. Shen Jianqing’s head rested on my shoulder, warm, probably wet with tears. His breathing was low and heavy, as if holding back something he couldn’t release. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he didn’t want me to see him crying.

Such a boy… not even able to cry freely.

So pitiful.

My sympathy for him deepened.

“Do you want to come with us, leave this place?” I asked.

Shen shook his head. His cheek rubbed against my neck, warm and tingling, sending a strange flutter through my heart, like something quietly growing, difficult to ignore and even harder to name.

“I can’t leave here. Shidi Mountain is a place I can never abandon.”

I sighed, ceasing my persuasion. The idea had seemed naive the moment it left my mouth. A person like him, appearing in society with no ID, no connections, no experience with the outside world… he couldn’t survive. I could help temporarily, but not for a lifetime.

After a while, I looked up and noticed the crimson insect from before had crawled back onto the tree near us, hanging by the trunk close to our faces.

The insect was bright red, with four slender legs and natural patterns on its back. It was alluring yet undeniably dangerous.

I didn’t dare touch it. “Shen, there’s a bug… let’s go over there.”

Shen finally lifted his face from my shoulder. The tear streaks had likely dried, but his eyes were red and pitiful.

Curiously, he only glanced at the insect, and it reluctantly scuttled down the tree and disappeared into the thick layer of fallen leaves.

“It’s okay. Bugs are common around here,” I said.

“Shall we go down the mountain? Qiu Lu and Wen are probably worried we’re missing.”

Given Shen’s state, I had no heart to continue climbing.

He adjusted his clothing and headpiece, eyes wide and shy like a rabbit. “Sorry for making you see such a mess. You… you’re not annoyed with me, right?”

“How could I be? Everyone faces difficulties—I could never resent you.”

At last, Shen Jianqing’s face relaxed into a satisfied smile. His voice was low: “Thank you. Though you can’t really help me, I’m still grateful.”

I couldn’t take him away, nor bear his entire life’s burden, nor stop the oppression from people here. His words were true, but they left a sour feeling in my chest.

“Is there anything you need? If I can do it, I’ll help you!” I could only make a verbal promise.

Shen said, “I don’t know yet. But when I do, don’t forget what you said today.”

I understood—it was a lack of security. He had done so much for us; naturally, I could not refuse him.

Descending the mountain proved far more perilous than ascending. The steps were steep, some stones unstable, embedded in the soil but constantly shifting. With no handrails, I descended shakily, calves burning with fatigue.

Shen Jianqing moved with ease, clearly accustomed to such treacherous paths.

Of course—he had even dared to climb that perilous cliff with the iron rope. A mountain trail like this would be nothing to him.

Thinking of that iron rope, it suddenly struck me: that was the only known way out of this Miao village. Yet the villagers themselves never left, so in reality, the rope was unnecessary. But we first met Shen Jianqing in Dongjiang Miao Village.

I asked, “Shen Jianqing, I just remembered—we first met in Dongjiang Miao Village. You all don’t leave this area, so why was that iron rope built?”

Shen Jianqing’s voice was soft: “That wasn’t built by the villagers. My father built it.”

I froze. “Your father? But… your father isn’t from Shidi Miao Village?”

I also recalled the red ribbon fluttering at the stone arch bridge, embroidered neatly with the character “Shen.”

Shen Jianqing was silent for a long moment. “My father was from outside. He accidentally stumbled into Shidi Miao Village, much like you all. He fell in love with my mother while he was here and stayed. Later, he became very ill—bedridden for years before passing away. I was curious, so at night I’d climb the iron rope to the outside world and return before dawn. The villagers never knew.”

“Your Mandarin… your father taught you?” I asked.

“Yes, a little. But after he got sick, I didn’t see him often. Mostly, I learned more from listening to people outside.”

Strange. If he was bedridden, why wouldn’t he be visited? Perhaps it was a condition that couldn’t be exposed to the wind. Better to change the subject—no need to press on his sorrow.

“You’re smart; learning Mandarin isn’t easy.”

Shen Jianqing let out a soft chuckle. “I’m grateful to my father, actually.”

“You should be. He gave you life.”

“No.” Shen’s reply was immediate, firm. “I’m only grateful he left the iron rope behind.”

“So you could explore the outside world?”

His voice darkened. “So I could meet you.”

My heart skipped uncontrollably, my pulse racing, breath tightening, chest aching.

If he were a girl, this would be practically a confession.

I’d heard countless declarations, seen many beautiful people—but none had ever made me feel so unbalanced, so flustered.

I had no time to ponder why I felt so nervous and awkwardly said, “You can’t say things like that casually. Outside, girls might think you’re confessing.”

Shen Jianqing let out a low, dark laugh from his chest, carrying a faint, unreadable ambiguity. He didn’t explain—and since we were both boys, there was no need.

I dared not look at him again, focusing instead on the mountain path beneath my feet. Fortunately, the descent was uneventful, and we reached the foot of the mountain safely.