“So, you used to go out!”
I felt a surge of hope. I had thought that none of the villagers could leave, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. At least, it seemed that Tunshe Nalin was an exception. Could he also be a “transportation official” too?
“So, have you searched online?”
“On, line?”
I shook my head and laughed to myself. Could it be that he didn’t even know what the Internet is?
What era do the people here live in? He said he has been out before, could it be that he went out a long time ago when the Internet was not popular? But he looks quite young… or has he only been to the surrounding villages and towns but never to the city?
“How about this, Tunshe Nalin,” I reached out and pressed his shoulder. “Promise to be my muse, and I’ll help you find the sweetheart you’ve been looking for for so many years, is that alright?”
“Muse?” He repeated the word, seemingly confused by its meaning.
I smiled and explained the word to him: “It is the source of inspiration. You can understand it as… the passion for painting. This is what a painter relies on to survive.”
It doesn’t really matter if he becomes my muse or not. He reignited my passion for painting, so in a way, he already is—he’s the fire that fuels my soul. But if he refuses to let me paint and chooses to leave with me, then all I’ll have left when I go is the memory of him, the ashes of a muse. Just like what Ming Luo left behind.
“So, you want to draw me, because, you need passion.” He said slowly, and his speech seemed more fluent than before.
“You can see it that way.” I nodded. For some reason, I had a vague feeling that I might have misspoken, so I instinctively added, “Of course, not just anyone can ignite my passion. Tunshe Nalin, I haven’t felt this kind of passion in a long time—until I met…”
I was just about to bring the topic back to him when suddenly something fell from above and rolled between me and Tunshe Nalin. I shrank back in fear, only then did I see that it was a long cylindrical object wrapped in a layer of dark red cloth.
“This is…”
“A painting.” Tunshe Nalin picked up the long tube wrapped in red cloth with one hand, gently running his other hand over it, as if he treasured it deeply. Then, he slowly handed it to me. “Since you are also a painter, take a look at it, what do you think?”
Was he asking me… to admire ancient paintings?
I hesitated for a moment before taking it. The scroll felt heavy in my hands, wrapped in layers of stiffened red cloth that had begun to fray, hinting at its age. Carefully, I unwrapped it, revealing a yellowish-brown scroll inside. The strong scent of preservatives filled the air. When my fingers touched its soft and delicate surface, reminiscent of animal skin, I felt an inexplicable shiver. A wave of panic washed over me, and I instinctively wanted to throw it away immediately.
Not wanting to make a fool of myself in front of my muse, I forced myself to calm down and slowly unrolled the painting. The fine and ancient lines, meticulously crafted, gradually unfolded before my eyes. The golden mineral pigments gleamed like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the white background. It formed into undulating folds of clothing, intertwined with sea-like dark blue hair, and vibrant red vermilion accents dotted across the painting, outlining exquisite red flowers. The painting seemed to have aged significantly, with some of the mineral colors flaking off and fading and certain sections appearing to have been scorched, leaving behind dark burn marks. Still, it was clear that the image depicted a man sitting amidst a sea of flowers, half-naked, with only a white drapery wrapped around his waist and shoulders. Around his neck, he wore a necklace of various gemstones, and golden arm rings adorned his arms. Behind him, there was a halo of golden light, reminiscent of the gods depicted in ancient Indian Ramayana murals.
My gaze fell upon the small area of the man’s face in the portrait. The man in the painting had his eyes closed, and the lines of his eyebrows and eyes reminded me of the wings of a bird soaring in the clouds.
Proud, indifferent, and looking down on all beings.
My gaze drifted to his lips and nose, my heart racing. Unable to help myself, I looked up at Tunshe Nalin and teasingly said, “Tunshe Nalin, why does this god in the painting… look a bit like you?”
Beneath the black cloth, there was a slight bulge as Tunshe Nalin furrowed his brows, but he said nothing in response.
I was left with a sense of disappointment, so I pursed my lips and continued to examine the painting closely, only to furrow my brows slightly. At a quick glance, the artist’s skills were impressive, with each stroke and line being finely crafted. But upon closer inspection, I noticed that many of the lines weren’t fluid but rather showed signs of being redrawn, with some parts discontinuous. It was clear that the artist had been overly meticulous, even anxious—almost as if someone had held a knife to their neck, forcing them to work under extreme pressure. That tension seemed to spill out of the painting, creeping up my fingertips, climbing my veins, making it hard for me to breathe.
“From my subjective view, although this painting is exquisite and luxurious, the lines are overly tight and rigid, lacking relaxation. As a result, the entire painting feels somewhat lifeless and lacks vitality. It’s clear that while the artist’s skills are profound… it seems like they were merely completing a task.” I said, immediately closing the painting. I took a deep breath, and only then did the uncomfortable sensation in my chest ease slightly.
Tunshe Nalin’s brows furrowed even deeper. “You don’t have any other feelings about it?”
The discomfort in my chest might count, but it’s probably just from the preservative scent. I shook my head and handed the painting back to him, only to notice that Tunshe Nalin’s shoulders were trembling slightly. He grabbed my hand and pressed it onto the ancient painting, making me trace it inch by inch.
As my fingers touched the texture of the leather canvas, an inexplicable wave of nausea swept over me. Not wanting to embarrass myself in front of my muse, I forced myself to suppress the feeling and asked, “What’s wrong, Tunshe Nalin?”
“No… no?”
“Are you alright?” I grasped his shoulders, and the candlelight above flickered, then dimmed, gradually fading. In the dying light, I saw, just near, beneath the black cloth covering his eyes, two dark red streams slowly seeping out… it looked like blood.
I was startled. “Tunshe Nalin, your eyes…”
Before I could finish, the flame suddenly went out.
“You aren’t… you aren’t as well.”
He seemed to grit his teeth, forcing out a vague and strange sentence between clenched jaws.
“Aren’t… what aren’t?”
A deep confusion stirred within me, quickly followed by a sense of foreboding. Just then, the light above me brightened once more, but this time, it was a crimson glow. I looked up, and in the sliver of sky framed by the tree’s shadow, a blood-red moon had suddenly emerged.
This scene and setting were eerily similar to that strange dream.
“Tunshe Nalin, do you see it? The moon has turned red…” I murmured, as a wave of dizziness washed over me. My mind spun, blurring the line between dream and reality—I could no longer tell whether this was a nightmare or the truth unfolding before me.
No one answered. I looked down—where was Tunshe Nalin? His figure had vanished without a trace.
“Tunshe Nalin?” I called out, trying to stand, but my limbs felt weak, drained of strength. Suddenly, a tightness gripped my ankle. I looked down to see countless tree vines slithering toward me from all directions, like venomous snakes coiling around my legs. In an instant, they wound around my hands and neck, constricting me and forcing me to my knees.
I’m dreaming, this has to be a nightmare. Wake up, wake up!
I thought this to myself and gave up on the futile struggle. I closed my eyes, and my consciousness, like a canvas wet with water, quickly became fragmented and blurred.
Suddenly, my body sank, as though something heavy was pressing down on me. A sound of hissing breaths echoed, followed by what seemed like sharp teeth grinding together near my neck, as if an evil spirit were savoring the scent of my blood. In my dazed state, I curled up, desperately hoping this nightmare would end soon, but then I heard a terrifying voice near my ear, like the howling of a north wind mixed with the shrieks of wild beasts—
“You saved me once, I, will not devour you. But, from now on, no matter where you go, you will be my slave.”
……
Cold.
The chill penetrated my bones, freezing my blood into ice.
I trembled, opened my eyes, and found myself surrounded by a vast, empty whiteness.
Snow… I was lying in the snow.
I lifted my eyelids, and through the snowflakes falling from above, faintly illuminated by the dim light, I saw a road not far ahead. On the opposite side of the road, there was an endless forest. I turned around and saw that behind me was also a vast forest.
I had lost consciousness near a road running through the forest.
What happened? Wasn’t I with Tunshe Nalin?
I rubbed my throbbing, dizzy head, trying hard to recall what happened before I lost consciousness, but my memory abruptly stopped after Tunshe Nalin handed me that painting. I couldn’t remember anything that happened afterward. Could it be that I fainted while admiring the painting?
Looking down, I realized I was still wearing the antique embroidered brocade robe that Tunshe Nalin had lent me.
If it weren’t for the robe, I might have doubted everything—the isolated village of the Nashe tribe, the cave with its tower of human bones and strange stone carvings, the towering ancient tree entwined with the building, and the mysterious man who had left me in awe. I would have thought it all was just a dream, a vision I had while hovering between life and death after the car accident.
Fortunately… it was not a dream. I did meet my new muse.
I stood up with difficulty and leaned against a tree trunk for a while, and then the dizziness gradually eased.
How did I end up unconscious here alone?
It seems… that the only reasonable explanation is that I was thrown here by Tunshe Nalin without knowing what was going on. What had I said to offend him so deeply that he hated me, refused to let me stay for the night, and cast me out by the roadside before dawn?
Is it because of my evaluation of that painting?
A deep sense of loss surged within me. I clenched my fists, feeling both frustrated and unwilling to accept it. After searching tirelessly for so long, just when I was on the brink of despair, I unexpectedly encountered a new muse. Yet, before I could catch him, I had already lost the chance.
I shouldn’t have judged so quickly… He clearly cherished that painting deeply.
And I actually said that the artist was just completing a task.
How stupid… I was really so stupid.
Finding Tunshe Nalin and apologizing—do I still have a chance to win back my muse?
Yes, I have a chance. His robe is with me, aren’t it?
Could he really just give such valuable clothes to a stranger like me?
But which direction should I go to find him?
I looked around and saw endless forests on both sides of the road.
As I walked to the middle of the road, a vast forest stretched out on one side, while on the other, the sky grew dim in the distance. I could make out the famous Sumilou Snowy Mountain, its peak visible from afar. However, the mountain seemed much farther away than it had when I was in Nashe Village.
—How far did Tunshe Nalin throw me…?
I gritted my teeth and started walking along the road toward the direction of Sumilou Mountain.
I’m not sure how long I walked, but gradually, the golden sun rose from behind the snow-capped mountain and soared above my head, only to be left behind again. I walked until my legs felt weak, and I could no longer go on. I finally sat down on a stone by the roadside, feeling utterly frustrated but also quietly making up my mind.
Tunshe Nalin… when I find you again, I’ll make sure we’re not done with this…
I will chase you down, and you’ll willingly let me paint you to my heart’s content…
I was thirsty, hungry, and exhausted. I scooped up a handful of clean snow and swallowed it. After resting for a moment, I forced myself to stand up, ready to keep going. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind.
