Chapter 31

“No worries if you can’t walk. I’ll carry you on my back.”

Miao Bai had already stepped up to Meng Bai and crouched down slightly, ready for her to climb on.

Her slender shoulders looked as fragile as a sheet of paper in the darkness, and Meng Bai suddenly felt awkward, worried she’d be too much of a burden.

“You’re really going to carry me…?”

“Hm? Come on up.”

“Oh—” Meng Bai shuffled forward a couple of steps and placed her hands on Miao Bai’s shoulders. She felt a flutter of nerves as she leaned forward.

Being carried like this… it was such a strange sensation.

Still, she bent down, wrapped her arms around Miao Bai’s neck, and pressed her chest against Miao Bai’s back.

She immediately sensed the strength in Miao Bai’s arms. When Miao Bai stood up, Meng Bai’s heart gave a little lurch.

Swish, swish—the sound of their shoes brushing through the grass.

The sky had grown fully dark, the world around them cloaked in tree shadows. The green leaves along the field ridges had deepened to an inky hue, as if the entire landscape had been painted over in somber tones.

Frogs croaked in the fields, their low, muffled calls rising and falling in a rhythmic chorus that sent a ripple through Meng Bai’s heart.

So this was what it felt like to be carried by Miao Bai.

“Miao Bai.”

“Hm?”

Meng Bai knew she was just grasping for words to fill the silence, but they died on her tongue. “Nothing, really.”

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

“Am I heavy?”

“You’re so light I can hardly feel you.”

Meng Bai let out a soft snort of laughter, her gaze drifting naturally to Miao Bai’s hair.

There were times she didn’t quite dare to look at Miao Bai closely—only when Miao Bai wasn’t paying attention.

This was the perfect moment.

Her glossy black hair gleamed even more strikingly in the night. Peeking through the collar of her dark clothes was the smooth, pale curve of her neck—a striking contrast of black against white.

With each light step, a faint fragrance wafted up, fresh and gentle.

In that instant, Meng Bai felt as if she’d stepped into some fantastical dream. A pang of regret washed over her: she’d lived in this town for so long, yet she’d only met Miao Bai now, right on the cusp of leaving.

If only it had been sooner—just a little sooner.

They soon reached the courtyard, the iron gate creaking shut behind them.

The walnut tree inside swayed gently, its branches whispering against one another in the breeze, rustling like welcoming applause.

Miao Bai paused before another door—the entrance to her own home.

Meng Bai’s chest warmed. Was Miao Bai really going to take her inside?

She’d always been curious about that door but had never dared to ask.

Now she studied it closely. It even resembled the Star Lattice Gate a little, with wooden panels embedded in it. Above hung a plaque with three characters, blurry in the dim light. Meng Bai squinted and made them out: Presented Scholar Residence.

She guessed it must date back many years, from when someone in the family had passed the Presented Scholar exams.

The term sounded ancient—probably all the way back to the Qing Dynasty.

This really was an old courtyard!

With a deep rumble, the two heavy doors swung open, revealing darkness within.

Miao Bai ascended the steps, and in that moment, a candle flared to life inside. The flickering flame illuminated the interior.

Meng Bai glanced around. The furnishings were strikingly antique, mostly wood, adorned with all sorts of decorative items. She was too young to recognize most of them or even know their names.

But they were beautiful all the same—rare and exquisite.

She imagined Miao Bai’s family must have been quite wealthy once.

The space was so vast and wide, it almost felt eerie for just one person to live there.

Miao Bai helped her settle into a reclining chair. “Wait here. I’ll go get the medicine.”

“Okay.”

Seated on the chair, Meng Bai took in her surroundings more carefully. The building was undoubtedly very old, with a classic Chinese style and furniture crafted from fine wood. But Miao Bai must have added some pieces herself—there were Western curios mixed in.

A telescope, bone carvings, and what looked like a crystal vessel made of antique bronze, giving off a faint, fragrant haze. Meng Bai figured it was a perfume bottle.

The room was dimly lit, and that very dimness lent the space an air of mystery.

Where on earth had she gotten these things? They weren’t in fashion anymore, and no one sold them in town.

No matter how she puzzled over it, she couldn’t come up with an answer. It only reinforced how extraordinary Miao Bai was—even the things she used set her apart from everyone else.

“What are you thinking about?” A moment later, Miao Bai emerged from an inner room, carrying several small bottles and jars.

“Wondering why your home is so different from mine.”

Miao Bai sat down beside her. “Different how? A stool’s a stool, a table’s a table.”

“But yours are all so special—I don’t even know what to call them.”

The corners of Miao Bai’s lips curved up. “Come on, let me apply the medicine first.”

Meng Bai wasn’t sure how it worked.

Miao Bai took the initiative, lifting her foot. Meng Bai was slim, so her ankle fit easily in one hand.

The wound was fairly deep, still oozing blood.

In the orange glow of the candlelight, Meng Bai’s shadow stretched across the floor. Miao Bai’s slender fingers brushed her ankle.

The instant her fingertips met skin, Meng Bai’s calf twitched involuntarily.

“Does it hurt?” Miao Bai glanced up. “I haven’t even touched the wound yet.”

“No, it’s not that.” Meng Bai swallowed, unsure how to explain that it actually tickled a little.

But she didn’t dare say so.

She eyed the small porcelain jar in Miao Bai’s hand—blue-green, looking like some antique curio.

“What kind of medicine is that?”

Miao Bai shook out a bit of coffee-colored powder. “Gazing Jiangnan. Ever heard of it?”

Meng Bai shook her head, of course.

“Then there’s Octagonal Lotus, and Wooden Hibiscus. All good for snakebites.”

Meng Bai blinked, utterly baffled.

She’d always thought herself pretty clever, but around Miao Bai, she felt like she knew nothing at all.

“I don’t know any of it. Sometimes it feels like we’re not even from the same era.”

Miao Bai smiled without replying. She poured out the powders and dabbed them onto her fingertip.

“It might sting a little. Just bear with it.”

“Mmm, I’m not afraid of pain.”

Miao Bai rubbed her fingertips together, then sprinkled the powder onto the wound.

It wasn’t painless—the snake had bitten deep, and with these strange powders, a sharp sting flared up instantly.

“Ow—”

“Does it hurt?” Miao Bai looked up, hesitation in her eyes.

“It’s okay.”

“It hurts, so scream it out. It’s fine; letting it out might make you feel better.”

“Then I’ll really scream.” Meng Bai clutched the hem of her shirt. “Don’t mind me, it really hurts!”

She dropped her pretense, her true feelings bubbling up, her face twisting with a touch of pain. She couldn’t help but let out two more pitiful wails, soft and weak-sounding.

For some reason, Miao Bai wanted to laugh.

“The wound’s pretty deep. Looks like you’ve got a real grudge with that snake.”

“I didn’t provoke it!” Meng Bai had a touch of mysophobia; just thinking about wild animals gave her goosebumps. “And it feels kinda dirty too.”

“There are risks, that’s true. You’ll need to keep applying medicine afterward. Good thing it was just a red chain snake—if it had been some other venomous one, I might not have been able to save you.”

Miao Bai finished applying the ointment and tugged Meng Bai’s pant leg back down.

“In the future, come find me instead. This area’s pretty desolate, snakes everywhere, and on autumn evenings, they love to slither out for a stroll.”

“Lots of snakes around here?” A chill ran down Meng Bai’s spine. “Your place doesn’t have any, right?”

“No, they don’t dare come in.”

Meng Bai finally breathed a sigh of relief. Truth be told, she was one of those people deathly afraid of snakes; what had just happened had already pushed her to her limits. She had no idea what she would have done without Miao Bai.

The two chatted a little more about the snake, and the conversation gradually drifted to other topics.

Meng Bai prattled on—she’d grown accustomed to sharing everything with Miao Bai.

She talked about what had happened that day, about Zhou An, Xu Zhou, Carpenter Zhou, GM Engineering, everything under the sun, as if her words could go on forever.

Miao Bai mostly just listened, nodding here and there, chiming in occasionally.

Midway through, Meng Bai paused. “All this stuff I’m saying—doesn’t it bore you?”

Miao Bai shook her head. “No.”

“You seem like someone with so much life experience. Listening to me must feel like hearing a kid babble nonsense.”

That was exactly what Meng Bai had been thinking. She loved sharing, yet she was timid about it too.

“No.” Miao Bai gave the same reply.

If anything was boring, what could top decades of utter solitude?

Sometimes Miao Bai wondered if even that walnut tree wasn’t lonelier than she was. At least the tree had the wind rustling its leaves and the sun warming its branches.

She, on the other hand, was like a talking mute.

It was Meng Bai who had changed that—

Miao Bai looked up at her, their eyes meeting, and her tone grew firm. “Really, it doesn’t bore me at all. Say whatever you want.”

“Okay, then I will.” Meng Bai scooted closer to Miao Bai, narrowing the gap between them. “Tomorrow, Zhou An and I are heading to the city for remedial classes. GM Engineering’s organizing them—a bunch of classmates from school are going too. Any advice?”

Miao Bai pondered for a moment. “Play it by ear. Watch what they do first, then we’ll figure out our next move.”

“But I’m still worried something might happen to the girls in our class.”

“It won’t. The chances of trouble on the first session are slim.” Miao Bai gave the matter serious thought, then paused, still uneasy. “That said, just to be safe, I could go with you to the classes.”

“Together!!!” Meng Bai’s eyes sparkled with excitement for a fleeting second, but she quickly shot it down. “No way. It’s daytime—the sun’s out. That’d be rough on you.”

“It’s manageable if the sun isn’t too intense.” Miao Bai glanced sideways at Meng Bai. “The catch is I’d be in invisibility mode. You wouldn’t be able to see me.”

Invisible, unseen, but right there beside her.

The mere thought sent Meng Bai’s heart racing.

Like a private secret, just between the two of them—no one else.

It was a tempting offer, but Meng Bai turned it down. “Nah, I don’t think anything’ll happen tomorrow. Next time.”

Next time would work fine. She’d wait for deep autumn, when the weather cooled and cloudy days grew more common.

Inviting Miao Bai then wouldn’t be too late.

Miao Bai gave her another look. “We’ll talk.”

A noncommittal answer, neither yes nor no.

Night was deepening, time slipping away fast. They’d barely scratched the surface of their chat when, in the blink of an eye, it was already nine or ten o’clock—time for Meng Bai to head home.

Time felt so short; she wished she could make every hour stretch into two.

“Why do we always have to split up after just a few words?” Her tone held a touch of reluctance.

“No rush. We’ve got plenty of time ahead.” Miao Bai stood. “I’ll walk you home.”

“My mom’s not home tonight.” Meng Bai blinked, then added, “Dad’s not either.”

“So?” Amusement glinted in Miao Bai’s eyes. She probably knew what was coming but played innocent anyway.

“So… wanna come to my place? We can sleep together one more night.”

Meng Bai kept her expression casual, but her heart thumped wildly; she could hardly meet Miao Bai’s gaze.

It felt so strange.

It wasn’t like it was their first time sharing a bed, but saying it aloud made it weird. What was the big deal?

“Every night you want me sleeping with you. Don’t you get tired of it?” Miao Bai stared straight at her, her gaze hot enough to flush Meng Bai’s cheeks.

“Not at all. It’s not every night…” Meng Bai pursed her lips. “Just two or three days straight.”

She put extra weight on “just,” a subtle jab back at Miao Bai.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think—just come.” Pleading edged her words. “Seriously, I get scared alone at home. I’ll tell you a story as payment.”

“You’ll tell me one?”

What kind of story could a little rascal like her spin…

“Don’t underestimate my storytelling skills! I’m great at writing compositions; of course I can make up a good tale.” Meng Bai threw caution to the wind, grabbing Miao Bai’s sleeve. “Come on, come with me, and I’ll tell you a story. Guaranteed to be a good one!”