The black tide of insects and I remained in a standoff for a while. They were wary, not daring to advance, but their sheer numbers made it impossible for me to leave. The warm yellow candlelight was the only comfort in the darkness.
I suddenly thought of Shen Jianqing.
From Wan Ying’s words, he was naturally talented at talisman crafting. Where was he now? Had that “mountain trouble” been dealt with?
No—why was I concerned about him? I stopped myself abruptly.
But thoughts are rarely under perfect control. The harder I tried to think of something else, the more my mind filled with Shen Jianqing.
And then there was what he had once said… that he had left something on me that made the insects dare not come near.
…Insects!
At once, I reached for my neck. There still hung the little sachet Shen Jianqing had tied with his silver chain.
To test my suspicion, I removed the sachet and cautiously brought it near the insects. Before I could even get close, they recoiled as if confronted with a monster!
I put the candle back and approached holding only the sachet. Again, they surged backward, avoiding my approach.
Turning my gaze back to the candle, I saw that the insects left alone beneath it were now hesitant, testing whether they could approach.
So it wasn’t just the light they feared—it was the sachet.
Curiosity took hold. What was in Shen Jianqing’s sachet that could repel these disgusting insects?
I waved the sachet again. Wherever it passed, the insects retreated.
Shen Jianqing hadn’t deceived me. This little object really could keep the insects at bay, much more effectively than Wan Ying’s herbs.
At last, a sense of calm descended on me. The crisis was temporarily averted; at least these insects couldn’t harm me. I sat by the candle, night deepening, sleepiness overcoming me, and drifted off.
When I awoke, it was fully daylight. I lay face down on the table, still clutching the sachet, half-lost in the fog of sleep.
“Crack—” My body protested with every joint, as if I had broken bones. My arm beneath my head was numb; fingers tingled painfully. Both legs were stiff, unable to support me.
But thankfully, the black insects were gone. The room was peaceful, as if the terror of last night had been a dream. Yet I knew it had all been real.
I picked up the plain little sachet, remembering Shen Jianqing’s casual words about it repelling mosquitoes. I never imagined it could have such a powerful effect.
What was inside? I pinched it, sniffed it—nothing seemed strange. The ordinary aroma was strangely compelling. Curiosity won.
I carefully unwrapped the sachet. The top was stitched tightly with several rows of thread; I worked slowly, tugging at stubborn seams.
Finally, it opened, and a bitter herbal scent hit me.
I shook the contents onto the table. Amidst the dried, yellowed or grayish-blue herbs, one red object stood out, almost glaring.
“Ah!”
Before I fully saw it, I instinctively shouted and stepped back, putting distance between myself and the table.
It was Honghong!
A blood-red insect lay among the herbs. Against the backdrop of dried plants, it looked vividly crimson, shockingly beautiful.
After a moment, I calmed myself. Rationality returned.
Honghong had been taken by Shen Jianqing—how could it be inside the sachet? And it had been on my person for so long—any living creature inside would have died.
I breathed deeply, examining it again.
It remained still, like a splash of red ink, vivid as blood.
But on closer inspection, it was only the shell—Honghong had molted.
I reached out and touched it; dry, hard, it lifted slightly under my finger. The black eyes stared blankly, no longer terrifying, almost comical.
So last night, the black insects had only feared a mere shell?
What if it had been Honghong itself?
Suddenly, Wan Ying’s words about the chief being able to repel swarms, protect the village, made perfect sense.
I glanced at the corners of the room. The herbs I had sprinkled as insect repellent were gone—presumably eaten by the black insects during the night.
If they were meant to repel insects, why had so many come last night?
Coincidence? There is no such thing as that many coincidences. Or perhaps her herbs didn’t repel insects at all… perhaps they had some other purpose.
I dared not think any further. I carefully put the sachet back around my neck and gathered up the leftover herbs Wan Ying had given me, unwilling to scatter them again.
Whether she had good intentions or concealed ill will, I would not use them anymore.
At that moment, a long, low, plaintive melody of a lusheng drifted over from afar.
The music stretched, deep and mournful, as if weeping, sorrowful to the point of suffocation. This was not a joyful celebration by any measure.
Immediately, my thoughts went to Shen Jianqing, who had been gone for a full day and night.
No… he wouldn’t…
I hurried out the door and looked across the balcony, but the layers of green foliage obscured everything.
Seeing nothing, knowing nothing—this only made my heart race faster.
I admitted it—I was anxious. I worried for Shen Jianqing. Though I resented him, my concern now was real.
Humans are not trees. Having spent so much time with him… he was a living person. No matter what he had done, if anything happened to him… No, it couldn’t be. He was the future chief; many would protect him. And Honghong was so powerful, a mere insect shell could ward off the black bugs. How could anything happen to Shen Jianqing?
My thoughts were a tangled mess, an impossible knot I couldn’t untangle.
But reality rarely follows our wishes.
I fidgeted, trying to reassure myself, when Wan Ying suddenly rushed up to the stilted house, her face still wet with tears.
“Quick! You—Shen Jianqing, he’s in trouble!”