Isn’t this… the small painting I gave to Tunshe Nalin?
How did it end up… under the pillow?
I sat there, racking my brains to recall, and suddenly an idea flashed through my mind—wait, this seems to be… the thing that fell out of Tunshe Nalin’s clothes the night before last?
He accepted it and even… kept it on him?
I was stunned for a moment, the corners of my mouth couldn’t help but rise slowly, thinking about the kiss just now and his strange behaviors the night before and last night, my mind seemed to be clearing up.
Could it be that Tunshe Nalin… has developed feelings for me?
Not because of my face, but because of who I am?
So that’s why you asked “why,” not because you were asking me, but perhaps questioning yourself?
I chuckled softly, feeling an unusual sense of ease in my breath. The poisonous serpent of desire for conquest that had coiled around my throat had finally been fed, and an overwhelming sense of satisfaction rose from deep within me.
My muse, this fierce and proud wild creature—have I captured him?
From now on, will I never suffer from a lack of inspiration again?
There was no way I could sleep now. I stuffed the small painting into the wardrobe, feeling energized as I got out of bed. I took the flamestone out of the basket and began preparing the pigments.
The flamestone is much harder than other pigment ores, and smashing it alone was incredibly time-consuming and exhausting. By the time I started sifting, my fingers were already swollen. Unwilling to waste any more time, I endured the pain and continued with each step of the process, taking advantage of the intense sunlight on the mountain to dry the pigments.
By the time the sun set, the final step of the steaming process was finally complete.
As I sifted the pigment particles into the jar, a sharp pain began to throb in my stomach. It was then that I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day.
The whole day, Tunshe Nalin’s servant hadn’t brought any food.
Was he upset and forgot?
Seeing the bird eggs I had prepared to feed to Brother Vulture on the table, I hesitated for a moment before peeling off the shell and taking a bite. The cold, fishy white egg slid down my throat, almost choking me. I quickly washed it down with some cold water. With something in my stomach, I felt a bit better and decided to get back to work. I lit a lamp and resumed fixing the painting.
As the white paint, shimmering with a faint purple fluorescence, touched the paper, it seemed to scatter stardust and glowed with new vitality. Just as I was silently marveling at it, a soft, sorrowful wail of a woman drifted from nearby: “…Mi Jia… save me…”
My fingers trembled, and the paintbrush fell onto the scroll.
I was startled in my heart, and I slowly turned my head to look at the door.
“Wuwu…” But the sad sobbing sound did not come from the door but seemed to come from… the table in front of me. I turned my head, and my body froze.
The painting on the table seemed to come to life, twisting and writhing, stretching out in all directions. It began to sprout… flat human limbs, floating upwards, with thick, dark blood overflowing from beneath the paper, mingling with strands of pitch-black hair.
I stumbled backward in fear, shouting, “Tunshe Nalin! Tunshe Nalin, help me!”
The blood that had spilled onto the floor writhed and gathered, slowly forming a thin, emaciated human shape. A pair of bloody hands suddenly seized my feet, and from beneath the tangled black hair, a face—bare of skin and muscles exposed—lifted up. The eye sockets were hollow and dark, devoid of eyeballs.
“Give it to me…” The woman’s scream grew more and more shrill, like the howls of a thousand wild cats. “Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me…”
“Ahhh!” I kicked the table, and the skull-shaped candleholder wobbled before tumbling onto the painting. With a loud “boom,” the painting was instantly ignited. Flames shot up into the sky, enveloping the blood-soaked, distorted ghost figure crawling on the ground. In the blink of an eye, both the painting and the ghost turned to ash, scattering into the air, leaving only a thin wisp of white smoke rising into the sky.
A drop of liquid fell on my forehead, trickling down my cheek.
I wiped it away, and my fingertip was translucent and sparkling, almost as if… it were a tear.
I sat there, still shaken, yet there was a trace of indescribable sadness. I stared blankly at the thin wisp of white smoke gradually dissipating, then snapped back to reality. Hurriedly, I crawled back to the desk and gathered the scattered ashes, but it was all in vain.
This painting, the treasure that Tunshe Nalin had cherished so dearly, was now gone.
Everything was ruined.
I had stayed by his side because of this painting, not only did I fail to fix it, I even ended up burning it as well. Even if he had felt a slight affection for me, it was probably now gone, reduced to ashes.
Can I still hold on to my muse?
A sharp pain twisted in my stomach, and I hunched over. Suddenly, I heard a loud “bang” as the door swung wide open, and a tall, dark figure stood in the doorway.
In a panic, I tried to hide the ashes in front of me, but I heard his footsteps, each one drawing closer, until his peacock-feathered boots and the golden-embroidered hem of his robe were right in front of me.
It was burned so thoroughly, it’s hard to believe it wasn’t intentional.
“What have you done…?”
The moment I heard Tunshe Nalin’s voice, I didn’t dare to lift my head. However, his cold fingers gripped the back of my neck, forcing me to look up.
“Qin Ran, what have you done?” Tunshe Nalin’s lips trembled, and beneath the black cloth covering his eyes, fresh red blood seeped through, trailing down his cheek. His fingers gripped the back of my neck with such force that it felt as if he were trying to crush my spine. Each word that escaped his lips was jagged, like a trapped beast tearing through its cage: “This is the only thing left to me by Mi Jia, the only thing left to me… Why did you take it from me? Why?”
Mi Jia—so the name the ghostly woman was calling out was the name of Tunshe Nalin’s former lover?
“I…” I opened my mouth to explain, but the pain in my stomach suddenly intensified, as if a sharp knife had pierced through it. I clutched my stomach, curling up in agony.
I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach condition flared up. This is bad, really not the right time…
“I…” I wanted to say something, but as soon as I opened my mouth, a sharp cramp gripped my stomach. I couldn’t hold it in and arched my back, vomiting a large amount of foul liquid with a heave.
Of all the bad luck, I threw up all over the gem-encrusted boots of Tunshe Nalin.
I wanted to die.
I covered my lips, trying to stop the vomiting, but the spasms in my stomach came in waves. I threw up into my hands, and bile mixed with blood oozed through my fingers. A sinking feeling gripped my heart—I was having another gastric bleed. I needed to go to the hospital… but in this remote mountain forest, not to mention how far the nearest hospital might be, if I left now while he’s still angry, this might be the end of whatever connection I had with Tunshe Nalin.
Unless he was willing to take me down the mountain, willing to return to the city with me.
“Tunshe Nalin, ugh—”
My legs were shaking, and I stood up. He grabbed my waist and dragged me up.
“What’s wrong with you?” His tone seemed to change.
I covered my mouth tightly. I really didn’t want to dirty his priceless antique robe, so I pushed him. Unexpectedly, his body remained motionless like an ice sculpture. I couldn’t hold it back and vomited. The dirty liquid mixed with blood splashed from between my fingers onto his shoulder.
Damn… it!
There was no greater humiliation in this life.
If it were anyone else, I could have let it go—but it had to be the muse I had set my heart on…
I was overwhelmed with shame, my ears and cheeks burning as if I were trapped between fire and water. The spasms in my stomach refused to stop—the more I tried to suppress them, the worse they became. Suddenly, a firm hand lifted me from below. Before I could react, I was scooped up like a child and placed onto the bed.
I was in excruciating pain, clutching my stomach as I curled up on my side. But before I could settle, he pressed down on my shoulder, forcing me to lie flat. My hand, which had been gripping my stomach, was pried away and pinned at my side.
With a sharp tug, my collar was yanked open, the agate button snapping off and striking my chin. Cold fingers touched my chest, sending a shiver down my spine. I lowered my gaze in shock, only to see Tunshe Nalin’s slender fingers tracing down my bare chest, inch by inch toward my stomach. Wherever his fingertips brushed, a faint red line seemed to rise beneath my skin—only to vanish in the next instant.
“What is this… ugh—” I wanted to ask but felt another wave of nausea rising. Fearing I’d vomit all over the bed, I hurriedly covered my mouth with my free hand, forcing the bitter, metallic-tasting blood back down my throat.
“You’re sick.” His fingers stopped at my stomach.
“Nonsense… ugh… everyone—gets sick!”
Tunshe Nalin’s fingertips seemed to freeze.
I saw that he looked slightly stunned, not knowing what he was thinking, so I grabbed his sleeve and said, “Tunshe Nalin, take me, take me down the mountain to the hospital. I have this illness, and I need to take medicine immediately…”
“Hospital?”
It’s over, I thought to myself. Could it be that Tunshe Nalin doesn’t even know what a hospital is?
As if he thought of something, he raised his hand, put it to his lips, and whistled. Immediately, the sound of flapping wings came from outside, and a white shadow broke through the curtain and landed on his shoulder—it was the vulture with red head feathers that helped me deliver the painting to him.
“Go get the healer.” He said.
Didn’t he say he had saved those animals? Why can’t he treat people?
“Ugh—” Another wave of contractions came, and I turned around and vomited under the bed. This time there was more blood than bile, and what came out was a shocking, dark red, foul liquid, which was even more serious than the last gastric bleeding. F*ck, I won’t die here, right? This thought came to my mind, and I was suddenly extremely scared. I retched a few more times, but there was nothing left to vomit anymore.
I collapsed on the edge of the bed, exhausted. I didn’t even have the strength to look at Tunshe Nalin and talk to him. My whole body seemed to be sinking into the bottomless and cold darkness.
“I’m going to die, Tunshe Nalin… I didn’t mean it…”
My body sank, and I seemed to be wrapped in thick blankets, and then I was picked up again.
In a daze, warm liquid was spooned into my mouth, carrying a mixture of milky scent and medicinal bitterness. Instinctively, I gagged, only to have my lips covered, forcing it back down. But this only triggered a stronger vomiting reflex, and I almost immediately threw it all up.
“Bring a different medicine.”
“God… God Lord, this Xiao Ah Lang is in such a bad state. These medicines can only relieve the pain, but he keeps vomiting. I also don’t know what to do… God Lord, please have mercy…”
In the haze, chaotic sounds echoed around me, gradually fading away.
“Whoo—whoo—”
The cold northern wind whipped across my face, sounding like the wailing of a thousand ghosts mixed with the rapid pounding of hooves on the ground. My body was jolted up and down, and I struggled to open my heavy eyelids. Tiny snowflakes rushed towards me, and ahead was an impenetrable darkness. I couldn’t see where we were heading, only the moving silhouette of a horse’s head in front, with reins held tightly in a pair of pale hands.
I doubted whether I was dreaming. I turned my head and saw someone sitting behind me, wrapped tightly in a sheepskin cloak, with only their lips visible. Without a doubt, it was Tunshe Nalin.
“Where are you taking me, Tunshe Nalin?”
He didn’t answer but just pressed the back of my head with one hand and pushed my head back into the cloak, protecting me like a child, leaving only my nose exposed.
A warm, hard object pressed against my stomach. I glanced at the cloak and saw that it was a small hand warmer, emitting a scent of mugwort. Perhaps it was because of this smell that I felt a little better, though I still felt weak. Before long, my eyelids grew heavy again.
“Tunshe Nalin…” I raised my head in a daze and smelled his scent mixed with the wind and snow. “I burned your painting, and you can get as angry as you want… I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything, just… don’t leave me.”
If you leave me, I’ll be completely ruined. I won’t be able to paint anything good ever again.
“Tunshe Nalin… Did you hear that? I want you, I want you by my side.”
“Mm!” The fingers pinching my chin tightened suddenly, and he covered my lips.
“Qin… Ran.” He gritted out my name, muttering it like a curse.
