“Ah!”
I woke up from the nightmare, fragments of blurry images lingering in my mind, my head throbbing with pain. I couldn’t remember exactly what I had dreamt, but the fear and anguish in my heart remained, refusing to fade away.
Unable to sleep, I got up, changed into new clothes, lit the oil lamp, and walked over to the desk.
On the desk was the unfinished snow scene from yesterday, with only the final touch remaining. Just as I sat down, there was a knock at the door. Knowing it must be my adoptive father, I unlatched the door and, as expected, saw his gentle, light-colored eyes. He was holding a tray with a bowl of hot porridge on it.
“You’re up so early to draw again, truly a little art fanatic. Are you hungry?”
I pursed my lips and smiled, taking the tray from him. “I told you not to call me a little art fanatic anymore. I’m twenty-eight this year. Do you still think of me as a child?”
“In my heart, you’ll always be my little art fanatic.” My adoptive father glanced into the room and smiled. “Drawing a snow scene?”
I nodded. “With the New Year approaching, the snow scene paintings will sell well. If we earn more money, we can go to a warmer place in the south… to see the sea.” I paused after saying the word ‘sea’, a sudden stillness sweeping over me. For some reason, I had always felt a peculiar obsession with going to see the sea. Was it because of the Illustrations of ‘Sea Creatures’ that Father cherished? The sea scenes in it were so beautiful that they made me long to see the ocean myself.
“Alright. I’ll go tidy up the shop and get it ready to open. The snow is falling heavily today, so make sure you bundle up.”
“En, you too, Father.”
Returning to the desk, I pushed open the window.
Outside, it was indeed a vast expanse of white, with snowflakes drifting down from the sky, just like the day Father found me by the river. Time had passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, fourteen years had gone by. The name “Tai Xue” was given to me by my adoptive father. His surname was Tai, and since I couldn’t remember my own name, and it had been snowing heavily the day he found me, he named me Tai Xue.
Fourteen years had passed, yet I still couldn’t remember anything about my past. Later, I heard from the physician that I might have fallen from the cliff by the river, and when the rushing water swept me away, my head struck a stone in the river. The brain injury caused my memory loss. I was already fortunate to have survived, and they advised me not to push too hard for answers.
I glanced down at the carnelian ring hanging around my neck, gently brushing my fingers over it. When my adoptive father rescued me, I had no other belongings on me, only this ring, clenched tightly in my palm.
Although it was clear that the ring must be quite valuable, and if we sold it, my adoptive father and I could easily afford to head south, I just couldn’t bring myself to part with it. After all, this ring might be the only connection I had left to that forgotten past of mine.
“Brother Xue!” At that moment, a voice from outside the window interrupted my thoughts.
The next moment, a yellow-haired head, with a round bun on top, poked through the window gap. “You’re drawing again? Ah, what a beautiful snow scene! Can you give it to me? I’ll hang it in the temple for the Compassionate One to see. Maybe he’ll take you to the immortal palace to be a painter!”
I picked up my brush and tapped the boy’s forehead. “Is there money in being a painter in the immortal palace? Adoptive Father and I are counting on selling this snow scene to get through the New Year. Go, go, don’t bother me.”
“How can you talk to your lifesaver like that!” The boy pouted, rubbing his forehead, then leaned against the windowsill like a lapdog. “I’m not leaving. It’s warmer here than on the mountain.”
“You’re the troublesome disciple of my lifesaver.” I tapped his head again, smiling helplessly. This boy was a Daoist child from the temple on the mountainside, and his master was the very person who had saved me fourteen years ago, pulling me from the river.
This boy was only five years old when I was saved, too young to remember much, yet he always said I looked familiar, as if he’d seen me somewhere before. He felt an odd sense of closeness to me and often came to bother me, wanting to play. He had a pure Yang constitution, associated with fire, while I had been gravely injured and in poor health, my vitality weak. Often, I would be plagued by nightmares, speaking incoherently, as though my soul had wandered, unable to wake up. But every time he came and slept beside me, I would feel better the next day. Over the years, he became like a younger brother to me.
He was an orphan with no name, only the Daoist title given to him by his master, Mo Wei, which meant “Do not forget kindness, do not lose the way of the heart.”
“Brother Xue, can I sleep with you tonight? It’s snowing, and it’s so cold on the mountain.” He looked at me with pleading eyes, practically wagging his tail. He was acting like a little dog.
I burst into laughter. “What cold? I think you just can’t handle the hardships of cultivation and snuck out. Your master probably doesn’t even know you’ve come here again, right?”
“My good Brother Xue, please let me stay just for tonight. Look at your face, it’s so pale. Were you plagued by nightmares again last night? If I sleep here, I’ll make sure you sleep soundly until morning!”
As he spoke, he tried to slip into the room.
“Hey, don’t mess up my desk!” I hurriedly grabbed the painting, but as he tried to slip into the room, he suddenly tripped and fell to the ground, landing on top of me. We ended up face-to-face, staring at each other, big eyes meeting small ones. His face turned bright red, yet he still stayed foolishly sprawled on top of me.
“Brother-Brother Xue, your mask fell off…” I touched my face, and, sure enough, the mask had slid down to my chin. Afraid the scar on the corner of my right eye might scare the boy, I quickly sat up and adjusted the mask back into place.
“You don’t need to wear the mask in front of me, and honestly, you don’t need to wear it in front of others either. Even with the scar, you still look pretty.” He mumbled, his face turning red.
I chuckled lightly. “Forget it, with this face of mine, even little kids would cry at night. You were also scared of me when you were a child, don’t you remember?”
He retorted, “Nonsense, I don’t remember anything like that. From the moment I saw you, I thought you were quite good-looking. Didn’t I tell you? When I was little, I often had a dream where you were standing in the sunset, surrounded by animals, with a girl with blue eyes beside you. The two of you looked like immortal children, so beautiful.”
“You’ve been looking at too many of the immortal picture books your master gave you and imagining things,” I scoffed. Noticing the snow on his shoes and his socks getting wet, I quickly pulled him over to the heater. “Take off your shoes and warm up, or do you want to get frostbite?”
“Hey, look, I brought you a New Year’s gift.” He said, grinning as he reached into his bag.
As he spoke, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to me. Looking down, I saw that it was a piece of cinnabar. I was overjoyed and rubbed his head. “How did you know I was just in need of this color?”
He held up his fingers, looking smug. “Of course, I calculated it!”
“Wow, you’re quite something,” I shook my head, placing the cinnabar into the paint jar. Then I pulled a warm boiled egg from the heater and handed it to him. “Here, eat this.”
“I’ve brought you a New Year’s gift, so it’s only fair you return the favor. Aren’t you going to peel it for me?” He said, looking at the egg expectantly.
Seeing him open his mouth, looking like a lazy little egg waiting to be fed, I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. He’d been like this when he was little, and now, even grown up, he hadn’t changed a bit. With no other choice, I carefully peeled the eggshell for him and, like feeding a dog, stuffed it into his mouth.
He seemed to enjoy it immensely, his cheeks puffed up as he grinned from ear to ear, looking completely content.
“It’s delicious. I love the bird eggs you make, Brother Xue.” He said, still grinning with satisfaction.
“Eat slowly, don’t choke. There’s more for the New Year, so come early with your master,” I said, pouring him a cup of tea. Just then, my adoptive father’s voice called from outside the door, “Ah Xue.”
“Coming!” I walked to the door, about to undo the latch, but then I heard my adoptive father’s voice, low and cautious, from outside. “Today, you better stay inside and just focus on your painting.”
I noticed a hint of tension in his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Outside, a few priests from the Tusheng Sect have arrived.”
My heart tightened. The Tusheng Sect, a state sect, had become the national religion since the first king of Gugu ascended to immortality. After the new king took the throne, the saintess, the grand tutor of the Tusheng Sect, held immense power, and now they had even declared themselves as the supreme ruler. The sect’s priests held high positions within the court, rarely appearing in the common folk’s lives unless it was to select sacrifices. This was their duty, but it was the nightmare of the common people. It was said that they would regularly collect the birthdates of boys and girls under eighteen in the towns. If a child met the conditions, they would be taken away without a trace, never to return. Countless families had been destroyed, and many children’s lives had been ruined.
Mo Wei also widened his eyes: “Is it another selection of sacrificial offerings?”
“They’re recruiting court painters.” My adoptive father lowered his voice. “I’ve already closed the shop. There are other painting shops in this town, so let them go look for other painters.”
