Chapter 8

In the end, she was just a young girl. Being lectured by a man like that stung her pride and stirred up a defiant streak. Xi Mi looked at Ying Quhe, and suddenly she saw it: the young, energetic wolfdog before her was exactly the same as the silent, imposing old wolfdog back home.

Even the way they scolded people was cut from the same cloth.

Thinking of Old Man Xi’s disdain for women, how nothing she did was ever right, how he never showed any tolerance… an inexplicable feeling of grievance overwhelmed Xi Mi. A flicker of defiance burned behind her eyes. She clenched her little fists, shot to her feet, and glared at him. “You’re right! I’ve been too lucky. I got this spot too easily, so I don’t treasure it!”

The girl’s soft voice suddenly hardened, like a raw nerve had been struck. Even her timid, gentle gaze towards him abruptly turned firm, as if the little white rabbit had suddenly transformed into a puffed-up little hedgehog.

Xi Mi clenched her fists and retreated to her room, leaving Ying Quhe and Tian Jian sitting under the grapevine trellis.

Tian Jian had just taken a big bite of her “Snow Mountain Flying Shreds^[1],” leaving a ring of white ice cream around her lips. She stuck out her tongue and licked it off. Watching Xi Mi disappear, she blinked, then poked Ying Quhe in the elbow with a finger. “Hey, Lao Qu^[2],” she whispered, “did you make Mimi mad?”

Ying Quhe’s thick eyebrows shot up, his face the picture of innocence. “What did I say?”

“You yelled at her, didn’t you?”

He carefully replayed their earlier conversation in his head and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Tian Jian delivered her sharp remark with precision. “Old Ying is right. How could a guy like you ever get a girlfriend? You just scare them all away.” She buried her head back in her phone, mumbling under her breath, “Serves you right, you lonely old virgin.”

Ying Quhe felt a blood clot lodge in his chest.

A perfectly nice girl like Tian Jian, completely corrupted by his older brother. It’s no wonder Tian Hao broke his leg.

At five in the morning, just as dawn was breaking, rain began to fall over the ancient town.

The days of oppressive summer heat were finally washed away a little by this cool, fresh rain. Xi Mi, already dressed in her raincoat, was heading out of the inn when she ran into the innkeeper, who was just returning from the market. The woman called out to her. “Xi Mi, where are you going?”

To keep the rain from soaking her hair, Xi Mi pulled up her hood and tightened the drawstring, leaving only her small, palm-sized face exposed.

“I’m going up the mountain to gather some ingredients for tomorrow’s competition.”

The innkeeper grabbed her and yanked her inside, pointing at the sky and cursing. “Are you crazy? It’s pouring out there and you want to go up the mountain? You reckless girl, have you got no brains at all?”

Xi Mi’s mind was made up. Once she decided something, she wouldn’t change it.

She couldn’t let Ying Quhe look down on her. She couldn’t lose this competition and give Old Man Xi a reason to laugh at her.

She wanted people to know that a girl could be a damn good chef too, and earn the true respect of a God of Cookery.

Rain splashed down from the green tile eaves, dense and rapid, like a cascade of loose silver needles, fiercely stabbing into the bluestone pavement and kicking up blossoms of water. Xi Mi, with a woven bamboo basket on her back, dashed into the curtain of rain before anyone could stop her.

The innkeeper stamped her feet in fury, shouting at the rain in her local dialect. “Stupid woman! Get back here!”

Soon, that small, jade-green figure vanished completely into the endless sheet of rain.

The weather forecast had said the rain would stop around six. She hadn’t expected the mountain paths to be so winding and muddy, so treacherous. By the time she reached the halfway point, it was already eight o’clock, and the rain showed no sign of letting up.

Xi Mi found a small pavilion halfway up the mountain to take shelter. The sky was a blanket of dark clouds, the wind howling, with not a single ray of light escaping through the seams. Though it was already eight, an hour when the sun should be high, the sky hung as heavy as it did at six in the morning.

The rain not only continued, but now thunder and lightning joined the fray.

A bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the sky as the torrential rain poured down, splashing across the muddy path and churning the already difficult trail into a swamp.

Looking at her surroundings, Xi Mi’s limbs began to tremble. The unceasing rain, the rugged, muddy path, the dense, dark forest behind her… it brought back memories from many years ago.

Ever since that day, she had never dared to venture up a mountain alone.

There was once a little girl who loved to cook and dreamed of becoming the God of Cookery. She and her grandmother had rushed up a mountain in the rain, chasing the freshest wild ingredients. Midway, the storm hit, and mud and rocks blocked the path, trapping the grandmother and the eleven-year-old girl.

That day had been just like today.

The forecast had called for light rain throughout the day. No one imagined it would turn into the biggest storm in recent years.

When the little girl woke up, she was in the hospital. She had been unconscious for three days. Her grandmother’s body was already cold.

According to the firefighters who found them, her grandmother had been curled up, holding her tightly. By the time they were found, the old woman’s body had already gone cold. Even as her rigid body was wheeled into the morgue, her arms remained locked in that protective embrace around her granddaughter.

The trees behind her whipped back and forth in the wind, howling like wild beasts. A chill spread from Xi Mi’s toes, terrifying her. She collapsed to the ground, buried her face between her knees, and didn’t dare move.

Ying Quhe, dressed in a black raincoat, had been following the sole path up the mountain. He finally spotted the girl in the pavilion at the halfway point. She was sitting on the ground, hugging her knees, a curled-up ball of jade-green, trembling uncontrollably.

Ying Quhe dashed into the pavilion and wiped the rain from his face, water streaming off his body in torrents.

The girl didn’t seem to notice him enter. He stood over her, staring down at the green bundle. In the basket on her back, he could see some small, miscellaneous items, tightly wrapped in plastic bags. He couldn’t tell what they were. Ying Quhe stood there a moment longer, but she still didn’t react. Had she fallen asleep?

But her body was clearly shaking.

Ying Quhe wanted to call out to her, but as the words reached his lips, he suddenly didn’t know what name to use.

Should he just call her “Mimi” like everyone else? Would that be too familiar?

“Hey,” he said.

Xi Mi didn’t react.

“Hey, I said,” he extended a finger and gently poked the top of her head. “Let’s go back.”

This time, Xi Mi trembled even more violently.

He poked her again with his finger. Seeing no response, he crouched down and poked her knee, her arm…

Finally losing his patience, he yanked off her hood. Static electricity made her short hair practically fly up into the air with a poof. This time, there was a reaction. The girl began to sob, a soft “sob… sob…” coming from her throat.

What the hell was that “sob… sob…” sound?

It took Ying Quhe a long moment to realize: wait, was she… crying?

Had he been too harsh the night before?

He glanced at the wild tuft of hair sticking up on her head and couldn’t resist reaching out to rub it. The soft fluff felt so nice he didn’t want to pull his hand away, and he discreetly gauged the size of her head.

This head was damn small.

He could practically wrap his whole hand around it.

“Alright, stop crying,” Ying Quhe said. He didn’t know he had it in him to be this patient. It reminded him of his eldest brother, who seemed to soothe Tian Jian the same way. He sighed inwardly. Tian Jian was just a little kid, so coaxing her was always a hassle. This girl wasn’t that young, so it should be easier.

What he didn’t expect was for the girl to look up at him and burst into a fresh round of sobbing the moment she saw his face.

Her small face was ashen, lips bitten bloody, her eyes red and swollen. Where the hell was that sweet, well-behaved girl? She looked like a damn ghost!

When Xi Mi looked up and saw Ying Quhe’s stern face with its slightly furrowed brows, those deep, handsome eyes always carrying a hint of authority, it inexplicably reminded her of Old Man Xi. After her grandmother died, Old Man Xi hadn’t treated her as well as before. He and her fellow disciples all blamed her for the old lady’s death. The heavy burden of guilt pressed down on her heart, refusing to lift, only growing heavier with each passing day.

Irritated, Ying Quhe ruffled her hair into a mess. “Stop crying.”

What the hell is there to cry about!

Then he gently smoothed it back down.

Xi Mi sniffled, a string of snot trailing from her nose.

Ying Quhe couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He turned his head away and let out a breath.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he handed it to her. “Wipe it yourself.”

Xi Mi took the handkerchief and blew her nose with a loud, wet honk. That crude noise nearly drove Ying Quhe out of his mind. She was blowing her nose in his handkerchief! Blowing her snot…!

His Virgo^[3] sensibilities were a little unable to endure this…

No, completely unable to endure it…

Forget it. Just bear with it. Wasn’t that exactly why he gave it to her?

Ying Quhe’s inner world had never been so volatile. He stood up and looked at the muddy water rushing down outside, resembling a raging miniature Yellow River.

He frowned and said, “Get up. Let’s head back early. Who knows how long this rain will last. It isn’t safe on the mountain.”

Xi Mi shifted slightly where she sat on the ground. Ying Quhe glanced at her in distaste. “Need me to pull you up?”

“I… my foot fell asleep,” Xi Mi said, her voice thick and hoarse.

Ying Quhe squatted back down, grabbed her calf with one hand, and started massaging it. Xi Mi flinched hard. “Don’t move,” he ordered sternly.

Sure enough, Xi Mi obediently stayed still.

Ying Quhe had quite a strong grip, kneading her sore, numb calf. Xi Mi bit her lip, not daring to move. The sensation… it was a maddening, unbearable tingle.

When he stood up, Ying Quhe held out his arm to her. She grabbed his forearm, and with a slight tug he pulled her up. Ying Quhe was the first to step into the rain. It was letting up now, the droplets hitting his black raincoat and sliding right off.

The man’s tall, upright frame lent the black raincoat a distinct flair. Standing in the rain, he looked like a stern swordsman from some ancient tale in black, the hood pulled over his head lending an air of mystery.

It was only then that Xi Mi realized a truly handsome man wasn’t just about good looks, but his aura.

Probably no one else but Ying Quhe could make an ordinary raincoat look like the attire of a mysterious swordsman.

The mysterious swordsman turned his head, gesturing impatiently. “What are you spacing out for? Get out here.”

The instant he spoke, the air of mystery shattered completely. She let out an “Oh,” rubbed her reddened nose, pulled up her hood, and dashed into the rain.

They hadn’t gone far down the mountain when the rain stopped. Moments ago, the sky had been shrouded in black clouds, but now a sliver of sunlight peeked through a gap.

Xi Mi looked up at the sky, then reached out and tugged on Ying Quhe’s raincoat. “Mr. Ying, the rain stopped. We can go up the mountain now.”

Ying Quhe glanced at the sky, remembering how utterly terrified she’d looked in the pavilion earlier. He looked at her again. “Are you sure you still want to go?”

She nodded firmly. “Yeah. Grandma used to say wild mushrooms after the rain are the freshest. Stewed with lard and minced garlic, the flavor is so savory.” She paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and asked, “By the way, Mr. Ying, why did you come to the mountain?”