Chapter 39

At night, after washing up, Ah Wan went to the kitchen to heat a cup of milk, then closed the doors and windows before returning to the bedroom.

Little Snake, wearing her pajamas, sat on the bed, a book with pinyin annotations spread open on her knees.

She had progressed quite fast, already learning to recognize pinyin. Now she could stumble through reading a short story by herself and even retell it fairly accurately.

But Ah Wan felt she was a bit lopsided in her skills, because she still couldn’t figure out addition, subtraction, multiplication, or division.

Two days ago, Ah Wan posed a question to Little Snake: say there were four apples at home, and the two of them split them evenly—how many would each human get?

Little Snake couldn’t calculate it. After holding it in for a long time until her face turned bright red, she quietly said she didn’t like apples and would give them all to Ah Wan to eat—Ah Wan could eat four. This made Ah Wan so exasperated that she tapped her on the head with a finger flick.

The milk was placed on the nightstand. Ah Wan lifted the covers and got into bed, settling close to Little Snake. Then she reached back for the milk and considerately brought it to her lips.

Little Snake was seriously reading her book. When something was fed to her, she habitually opened her mouth, but after just one sip, her brows immediately furrowed.

“Snakey doesn’t like drinking this.”

She said petulantly.

“I know. Once the ones in the fridge are finished, you won’t have to drink it anymore.” Ah Wan perfunctorily brushed it off, still supplementing her nutrition on schedule and in the right amount.

Little Snake glanced at her, but still drank it, puffing out her cheeks.

Her mouth circled with a ring of milk residue, she lifted her head and muttered with some dissatisfaction, “But the milk in the fridge never runs out.”

“Mm,” Ah Wan put down the cup, casually pulled out a tissue, and gently wiped her mouth, coaxing softly, “It will run out.”

Little Snake stared at Ah Wan for a moment, asking for confirmation: “Really?”

“Mm.” Ah Wan replied flatly.

“That’s good then.” Little Snake was happy. She picked up her book again and said to Ah Wan, “Snakey will read it for you to hear.”

Ah Wan lowered her head to watch, seeing her point with her finger, reading with utter seriousness, word by word, her face full of solemnity. She looked incredibly cute.

Ah Wan couldn’t help it. She gently leaned her head over to bump against hers, hearing her say: “Left side green, right side red…” [T/N: A Chinese riddle for the character “Autumn” (秋)]

Little Snake slowly finished reading aloud while pointing, but couldn’t guess the character. She could only turn her head to look at Ah Wan curiously, grabbing her sleeve for help: “Human, what character is this?”

“Want to know?” Ah Wan gently lifted her chin with her finger, her voice slow. “Beg me.”

“Please~”

Little Snake immediately clasped her hands together, shaking them back and forth, pleading softly: “Please, Human, tell Snakey.”

But Ah Wan grabbed her hands and laughed smugly. “I’m not telling you.”

“Human! You’re bad!”

Little Snake was so angry that she flopped over like a carp thrashing and sat on the other side, turning her back to the human.

Ah Wan laughed lowly twice, then moved over and hugged her from behind. She whispered sweet nothings into her ear, saying a few nice words, carefully making amends.

In the blink of an eye, it was May. Only now did the peach blossoms fully bloom on the branches in the mountains.

Early morning, sunlight filled the courtyard, passing through the window to fall on the people inside.

The electric blanket on the bed had been put away, but the mountain nights were still occasionally cold. Since before the new year, Ah Wan had been bathing and soaking her feet in herbal water every day. After half a year, she had finally nursed her constitution back to health.

Now, she was like a small furnace every night. Little Snake always loved burrowing into her arms to sleep, clinging stickily to her, wanting her to hold her.

Ah Wan often looked impatient, but her movements were exceptionally gentle when she pulled the human into her embrace, as if afraid of causing pain. Yet the next day, Little Snake would still be tightly entangled with her.

Looking at the human sleeping soundly in her arms, the fine, tiny hairs on her plump, fleshy cheeks were clearly visible. She looked just like a plump, juicy little peach.

Ah Wan couldn’t resist. She licked her lips, then lowered her head and gently bit her, causing her pain. Even in her sleep, Little Snake grabbed her neck and whimpered softly.

Ah Wan lifted her head, looking at her as she ground her teeth, forcibly suppressing the urge to bite again. She softly pressed her lips to the spot, quietly soothing her.

Little Snake had been a bit drowsy lately, seeming listless. So Ah Wan didn’t disturb her. She slowly withdrew her own hand, gently pulled away the hand Little Snake had hooked around her neck, then lifted the covers and got out of bed.

She went to the kitchen, made a simple breakfast for herself, then specially mixed some batter, wrapping minced meat to make pancakes for Little Snake. Only after everything was done did she shoulder her small back basket and head up the mountain.

Inside the basket was the Gu Jar, containing the nest of bees she had dug up and brought back last winter. After several months, only a thousand or so remained, including a single Queen Bee.

Ah Wan took them to the fields. The vast patches of medicinal herbs were now in bloom, exactly the time they needed pollination—and also the perfect time to cultivate the Gu.

She set down the basket, took out the Gu Jar, and opened it. The bee Gu inside immediately swarmed out and flew off, except for the slightly larger Queen Bee.

She still lay inside the Gu Jar, forever unable to leave.

Ah Wan held the Gu Jar, sitting directly on the ground. She held a small wooden mallet, tapping it slowly and lazily.

The crisp echo resonated through the valley as the bee Gu lined up, collecting nectar in an orderly fashion.

As the sun dimmed behind clouds, Ah Wan packed up, preparing to head back. But then her phone suddenly rang. Taking it out, she saw it was a call from Little Snake—

The corner of Ah Wan’s lips curled up. In a great mood, she answered: “Awake already…”

“Human, where did you go? Snakey is scared…”

Ah Wan’s words were cut off. Little Snake’s terrified cry came through the phone, followed by nothing but the busy tone.

“Hello?”

Ah Wan calmed herself. Lifting the basket with one hand, she quickly redialed the number, but this time it rang for a long time with no one answering.

Without overthinking, she hurried home. The Orchid Mantis flew out from her knuckle, circling around her frantically.

Logically speaking, with the Flower Gu guarding outside the courtyard and plenty of toxic creatures inside, no one should be able to break in. Little Snake alone at home shouldn’t have any problems.

But Ah Wan grew increasingly flustered, even feeling an unprecedented heart-stopping fear, as if she wished she could instantly fly back to Little Snake’s side, hating herself even more for leaving her home alone.

A journey that usually took half an hour, Ah Wan covered in just ten minutes today. Several times she jumped down from earth banks as high as a single-story building, recklessly dashing through the mountain forest with practiced skill.

But when she reached home, she found the courtyard completely normal. The Flower Gu at the door was lazily basking in the sun; nothing had happened at all.

Ah Wan let out a slight pant, still not daring to let her guard down. She threw down the basket and headed straight inside.

The breakfast she had made for Little Snake was still on the table. The tablet nearby was playing Little Snake’s favorite variety show. Only half of the meat patty on the plate had been eaten, but the chopsticks had fallen to the floor, as if someone had been frightened and fled in panic.

Looking at the scene before her, Ah Wan’s face instantly darkened. After scanning the room and finding no sign of Little Snake, she immediately went to the bedroom.

The covers on the bed were messy—matching Little Snake’s usual style when she woke up. Ah Wan walked over and reached out to touch them, but they were already cold.

Her face darkened further. Her mind raced, trying to replay if anything unusual she hadn’t immediately noticed had happened when she brought Little Snake down the mountain, something that might have drawn the attention of people with ill intentions.

But the more anxious she became, the less clearly she could think. Her usual calmness and composure were completely thrown out the window.

The Orchid Mantis circled her once more, gently touching her finger as if to comfort her, then turned and flew towards the wardrobe.

Ah Wan followed close behind it, standing before the wardrobe door. She took a deep breath, then without hesitation, reached out and opened it.

Bright light instantly pierced the dark wardrobe. The originally hanging clothes had all been pulled down and piled up haphazardly. The young girl sat naked amidst them, hugging her legs tightly to herself, trembling slightly as if suffering from an immense shock.

Ah Wan crouched down, reaching out to gently touch her, but saw her shaking in fear, helplessly shrinking back, hugging her legs and sobbing quietly.

“It’s me.”

Ah Wan’s heart felt as if it were being torn apart by someone’s bare hands, ripping flesh to split open a crevice, aching intensely.

Everything had been perfectly fine. How could it suddenly turn into this?

Hearing the familiar voice, Little Snake slowly turned her head. She stared blankly for a moment, then stretched out her neck, sniffing forcefully. She stuck out her tongue, flicking it helplessly and confusedly.

Ah Wan knelt on one knee, proactively leaning her body forward so Little Snake could touch her, then reached out her hand and said softly, “I’m back.”

Little Snake smelled her scent. It was familiar. Instantly, she burst into tears, crying out aggrievedly, stretching out her hands wanting to be held, repeating over and over: “Human, Snakey is scared.”

Ah Wan remained silent, gently picking her up and wrapping her in one of her own shirts, then walked over to sit on the edge of the bed.

Coming into the light, Ah Wan finally noticed something wrong with Little Snake’s eyes. Her pupils had turned a faint blue, not very clear, misty as if covered with a veil. They lacked any spirit and didn’t look at anyone.

Ah Wan hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised her hand and waved it twice in front of Little Snake’s eyes—

No reaction, no reaction at all.

Ah Wan’s heart instantly sank. She held Little Snake tenderly, pressed her lips to her forehead, and asked, “Your eyes… what happened?”

Hearing the voice, Little Snake blinked her vacant big eyes, pouted, and complained tearfully: “This morning when Snakey got up to eat, her eyes suddenly couldn’t see clearly. Snakey was scared, called you, but just after calling you, Snakey’s eyes couldn’t see anything at all.”

“Why couldn’t they see all of a sudden? Has this happened before?” Ah Wan questioned carefully. Little Snake shook her head blankly, denying it: “No.”

Then she immediately cried out in pain: “Human, Snakey’s body hurts very much, uncomfortable. It’s from falling off the stool.”

Perhaps due to excessive shock, Little Snake’s speech was somewhat incoherent as she flicked her tongue anxiously.

Listening to her words, Ah Wan kept replaying the steps she took while making breakfast, trying to see where things might have gone wrong. How could Little Snake suddenly lose her sight?

But after mulling it over, she couldn’t pinpoint anything wrong. She could only first soothe the human in her arms, gently kissing the tip of her nose and coaxing, “I’m here, don’t be afraid.”

“Mm.” Little Snake had clearly calmed down a lot. She raised her wrist to show Ah Wan, complaining, “Fell and hit my hand on the floor, it hurts.”

Ah Wan caught her wrist and brought it to her lips to kiss it, soothing: “I’ll put medicine on it for you in a bit.”

“And also here.”

Little Snake wanted to point at her knee, but since her eyes couldn’t see, she couldn’t point to the right spot immediately. She had to feel around bit by bit. Once she found it, she tearfully said, “This also got hurt from the fall. It hurts so much.”

Ah Wan held her. Hearing this, she hesitated for a moment, but still leaned down and kissed her calf.

Being soothed so gently and meticulously, Little Snake felt much happier and was no longer so afraid. She wrapped her arms around Ah Wan’s neck. Her blue, vacant eyes rolled twice, then somewhat guiltily, she used her hand to feel her own head and said, “This was bumped too.”

Ah Wan leaned down and kissed it.

“And here.” Little Snake felt her collarbone. Ah Wan let a smile spread unrestrainedly, asking, “Where else?”

“Mmm, here, here.”

Little Snake pointed to her arm, then her ankle, lower abdomen, lower back, buttocks…

“They all hurt so, so much.”

With her beautiful, unseeing eyes wide open, she started spouting nonsense.