012Accommodation

At the end of the narrow path, wisps of smoke rose faintly. The weary figures toiling in the fields began to tidy their tools, gradually making their way home.

Into the village strolled a pair of remarkably handsome brothers. One strode ahead on foot, while the other rode a snow-white mule nearly as tall as a man. The mule was truly a sight to behold, without a single stray hair, adorned with a precious golden bell around its neck, emitting a clear tinkling with each step. The appearance of the two immediately caught the attention of the villagers.

The elder, clad in a sable robe, with a kerchief upon his head and wooden clogs on his feet, possessed a slender figure and wore the air of a young scholar who had ventured far from home. The younger, appearing to be around eleven or twelve, bore a resemblance to the elder but possessed a charm of his own, with rosy lips, white teeth, and deep-set features. Perhaps there was a trace of indigenous blood in their ancestry, giving their features a profound allure beyond that of ordinary folk. At first glance, one might mistake him for a radiant maiden, yet upon hearing the address from the youth, it became evident he was a young noble.

"Our humble abode is modest, but we beseech the two gentlemen to make do for a night," the village elder ushered the two into a humble dwelling.

Qianjia Village is a small hamlet of fewer than a hundred households, with the most respectable and tidy house belonging to the village elder. Upon hearing the desire of the two gentlemen to find lodging, he warmly invited them to stay at his own residence, and instructed his wife to tidy up the guest room. 

Qishan fumbled out a piece of silver and handed it to the village elder, asking them to prepare some dry rations for him for a few days, boil a pot of hot water for bathing, and consider the remainder as a token of appreciation. The village elder, with a genial smile, weighed the silver fragment, made a quick estimate, and hastened to assure Qishan that it was no trouble at all. Before departing, he even inquired whether they would like some fresh grass for the mule. 

At the mention of the mule, Qishan's expression briefly flickered with unease: "No need, that mule is not a living creature, but rather a manifestation of my brother's command of the arcane." The village elder immediately grasped the situation, his demeanor becoming even more deferential. 

The familiar sound of bells drew nearer—ding-ding-ding. Qishan pushed open the window to dispel the stale air within the house, and as he glanced upward, he beheld Shentang leading the mule with one hand while teasing it with a handful of grass in the other. Faintly, he could overhear Shentang exchanging murmurs with the mule.

"Moto, why aren't you eating? Just try a bite, I picked it specially for you..." 

Qishan: "..." 

Speaking of this mule named "Moto," he felt a suffocating sense of guilt. No one would have expected that a simple incantation - "Swift as the wind, swift as lightning, Moto in great fortune" - could actually conjure up a snow-white mule! Shentang joyfully mounted the mule. 

"Mr. Qishan, would you like to have one too?" Qishan firmly declined. Not only did he not know how to use that incantation, even if he could, the result might not be the same as Shentang's. Most importantly, no matter how handsome the mule looked, it was still just a mule, and he had no intention of riding it! 

"Then, would you like to ride together?" Shentang raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sun and offered another suggestion.

Qishan once again refused. He would rather walk with a broken leg than ride this foolish-looking mule. Shentang shrugged, not pressing the matter further. With the low-end "sports car" (mule) as her transportation, her feet were finally liberated. 

Passing by an unidentified tree that resembled a banana plant, she bent and reached to pluck two leaves. One she held over her shoulder for shade. The other she handed to Qishan to shield his head from the sun. 

"Mr. Qishan!" The sunlight was blocked from above, and Qishan turned at her words. Shentang tossed the leaf to him. "Here you go!" Seeing Shentang's efforts to shield herself from the sun, he could only smile helplessly.

"Courageous men fear not such hardships."

"I'm not afraid, but as the old saying goes - 'One white covers a hundred flaws.'"

Shentang adjusted the angle of the large leaf and, carrying it over her shoulder, smiled. "Getting tanned unevenly would mar the beauty."

Qishan: "..."

After several hours of walking, they finally spotted signs of civilization. Due to years of drought and war, only a few households remained in Qianjia Village. There were hardly any young faces left in the entire village, only elderly folk and naive children. With the sudden arrival of two unfamiliar faces, word quickly spread from one end of the village to the other, and mischievous children could often be seen peering curiously at the village elder's house.

When Qishan went to find the village elder for some matters, upon his return, he heard Shentang's laughter mingling with that of several playful children. The two groups were engaged in a "battle." One child, clad in clothes bleached almost white, rode atop the snow-white mule, wielding a dry branch as a lance, presenting an imposing sight. Meanwhile, Shentang's younger brother, armed with a stick, stood ready on foot to face his opponent. Back and forth they went, engaged in a fierce mock battle. The other children, acting as "soldiers," watched nervously from the sidelines, occasionally applauding and cheering, declaring the "general" to be mighty!

Qishan: "..."

At first, Qishan thought Shentang was simply indulging in playfulness - after all, Shentang's younger brother was just an eleven or twelve-year-old youth, prone to mischief and restlessness despite enduring hardships. However, after observing for a while, he realized that the unfamiliar child also had some charm. 

He asked the village elder, "What is the name of that child? Is he from one of the households in the village?" The village elder replied, "No, he is not from the village." "Not from here?" The village elder sighed, "I heard he is from a wealthy family, but he has been afflicted with illness since childhood. He resides nearby at a manor for treatment. Although they call it treatment, in reality, he has been abandoned by his family. The servants taking care of him naturally do not put their whole heart into it. He looks very pitiful and often sneaks out to play with the children in the village..."

Usually, they play until dark, and then the servants from the manor come to take him back. Qishan's curiosity was piqued. "Illness? What kind of illness does he have?" The village elder glanced at the child, who was beaming with joy, and cautiously pointed to his own head, saying, "I heard it's a brain disorder."

In simpler terms, he's a simpleton. Qishan was slightly taken aback, about to speak when he heard several children erupting in loud cheers. It turned out that the child had feinted with his spear, "tricking" Shentang, and struck the "lord" she was protecting. Fair and square, he hit the "lord" right on the forehead. According to the game rules, he won. 

Seeing the "fallen lord," Shentang could only "helplessly" shrug and drop her weapon in "surrender." "Well, I lost." The winner would receive a prize. The so-called prize was thumb-sized candy. She opened the pocket of her waist pouch, took out some homemade candies, and distributed one to each person, calling it "rewarding the troops." 

The "commander-in-chief" who had performed admirably— the child who sat confidently on the mule, wielding his spear with style—received three candies. The other children eagerly popped the candies into their mouths, but the one child just held the candy dumbfoundedly, unsure of what to do.

The child's vacant expression was starkly different from his spirited demeanor when he was "fighting" while riding on the mule's back. "Won't you eat?" Shentang crouched down to ask the child. The child shook his head, hesitated for a moment while looking at the candy in his hand, then picked one up and handed it to Shentang. With eager eyes, he seemed to be expecting something. 

"You want me to feed you?" "Yes, please eat." The child replied. Shentang didn't mind the child's small, dirty hands. She opened her mouth and accepted the candy he handed her, smiling with twinkling eyes. "Oh, it's really sweet. Would you like to try some too?" Only then did the child lower his head and pick up another candy to taste. 

The last candy returned to the faded pouch on her waist, which felt heavy.

Shentang, with a vantage point, vaguely glimpsed inside the pouch a delicate jade pendant shaped like a tiger's head, engraved with tiny seal characters. While the other children contentedly went home, only the child with the faded clothes remained, waiting to be escorted to the main house by the village elder. 

The summer sky was extremely capricious, and shortly after nightfall, dark clouds poured down heavy rain. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the wild wind howled. Shentang was studying diligently by lamplight, fervently memorizing incantations. 

At that moment, there came a brisk knocking at the door.