Chapter 9: Into the Mountains

When Luo Qiao’er followed them, Luo Shitou immediately stopped, his face showing obvious displeasure.

He snorted coldly and said, “Didn’t we tell you to go on your own? What are you following us for?”

“I… I just want to go with you,” Luo Qiao’er, who had been following behind, lowered her head and said pitifully when she was noticed.

Luo Qiqi frowned. “We don’t have extra food for you. If you’re going to follow us, you might as well go with Grandpa and Grandma instead.”

“I won’t take up much space. No, I can find my own food. As long as you take me along, I’ll be fine,” Luo Qiao’er quickly promised.

When she saw Luo Qiqi deal with the two people so efficiently and saw their tragic end, Luo Qiao’er felt a sense of relief.

She didn’t think there was anything wrong with what Luo Qiqi did—in fact, she admired her.

If only she could be as capable as Luo Qiqi, she wouldn’t have been in such a helpless position today…

She had figured it out now. Her father was weak and useless, always bullying the weak and afraid of the strong. He was a coward who only dared to be tough in his own home.

She didn’t want to go back to that family anymore. No one would care anyway.

She realized she hadn’t noticed how impressive her cousin was before. If she had known earlier, she would have clung to her tightly.

She wanted to follow Luo Qiqi from now on. However, …

She had made many mistakes before and wasn’t sure if her cousin would forgive her.

Afraid that Luo Qiqi might refuse, Luo Qiao’er quickly added, “I can work as a maid. I can wash clothes and cook. I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as you let me go with you.”

Luo Qiao’er looked at Luo Qiqi with a hopeful expression.

Luo Qiqi was initially planning to reject her, but then she looked up and saw the somewhat reluctant expression on Luo Father’s face.

“Fine, you can come with us. But you’ll have to take care of your own food. You have to listen to us in everything. Of course, I don’t need a maid, so as long as you don’t slow us down, you can come.”

Luo Qiqi pondered for a moment and then agreed.

“I won’t cause you trouble,” Luo Qiao’er quickly responded, relieved that Luo Qiqi had agreed.

Luo Father gave one last glance and said, “Let’s go. We need to hurry.”

With that, he carried Xu Yunxuan on his back and led the way out through the back door.

Luo Qiao’er quickly grabbed her little bundle and followed last.

“Big sister, will we ever come back?” Luo Shitou turned around and asked quietly as he looked at Luo Qiqi.

At seven years old, Luo Shitou already understood what this departure meant.

“We won’t come back,” Luo Qiqi replied firmly.

“If you ever want to come back, you can always visit,” Luo Qiqi added after a moment of thought.

“I’m not talking about coming back, but what if I miss Mama?” Luo Shitou lowered his head, his eyes reddening as he spoke.

Although he had never met his mother, he knew she must be the kindest person in the world.

When he was younger, his father told him that his mother was watching over him from the heavens, and that he had to be strong like a little man.

But he knew that was just something to tell children—he had figured it out long ago.

Hearing Luo Shitou’s words, Luo Qiqi fell silent.

“When we settle down later, we’ll move your mother’s grave to where we are,” Luo Father, who had come up to them at some point, said as he looked at the two siblings, offering comfort.

“Really? That’s great! When we do that, we’ll build a small house for Mama. I heard from Huzi that rich families put their deceased loved ones in a special room. We’ll do that for Mama too,” Luo Shitou said excitedly.

“Yes, we’ll put her tablet in the room. The wind won’t blow on it, the rain won’t wet it. When you miss her, you can go and talk to her,” Luo Qiqi said softly, her voice filled with warmth.

Luo Shitou’s face lit up, his spirits lifted at the thought of it.

Behind the Luo family’s house was a mountain called She Mountain. “She” sounds like “snake” in Chinese, and it was said that someone had once seen a giant python there.

According to the person’s description, the snake was huge, so large that from a distance, it looked like a small hill.

The mountain loomed ahead, vast and imposing. Its silhouette was dark and endless, stretching as far as the eye could see. The path up the mountain was rugged, and with the night falling, it became even more difficult to navigate.

The ground was uneven, and every step had to be carefully considered to avoid stepping on a hidden snake or venomous insect. With no way to use torches—any light would immediately draw attention in the pitch-black surroundings—they could only rely on the pale moonlight to guide them as they slowly ascended.

Everywhere, branches and twigs reached out, adding to the difficulty. Their progress was slow, and every now and then, they would have to stop and adjust, making sure they didn’t step on any dangerous creatures lurking beneath.

Luo Father led the way with his tall, solid figure, providing a sense of reassurance to the group. Luo Qiqi, who hadn’t felt the warmth of a father’s protection in a long time, was momentarily moved, almost overwhelmed with the urge to shed a tear.

Suddenly, a sharp scream broke through the air, interrupting her thoughts.

“Ah!” It was Luo Qiao’er, who had missed her step and fallen to the ground.

Realizing she was holding them up, Luo Qiao’er scrambled to get back on her feet. In her panic, her face was scratched by the sharp branches, but she didn’t even notice the small cuts.

“I… I didn’t mean to. I slipped,” she stammered, offering an apology.

Luo Qiqi merely glanced at her, her expression calm. “Watch your step,” she said indifferently, then turned to motion for Luo Father to keep moving. There was no real harm, so there was no need to dwell on it.

When Luo Qiqi didn’t tell her to leave, Luo Qiao’er felt a sigh of relief and quickly caught up with her, walking in step behind her. She had poor eyesight, a condition she had hidden from everyone except herself.

Although she had a mother, it didn’t feel much different from not having one. Her mother had never treated her like a daughter, let alone cared about her health. If her mother knew about her condition, she would only be met with scolding and punishment.

Her mother’s heart had always belonged to her younger brother.

Luo Qiao’er’s eyes dimmed as she thought about this.

But now, things had changed. She was no longer tied to that family. Moving forward, she would have to rely on herself.

As they ventured deeper into the mountains, the number of mosquitoes grew exponentially. They buzzed around them in swarms, occasionally landing to feast on their blood, which was both irritating and painful.

Luo Qiqi reached into her pack and, as a cover for the items in her space, handed out small medicinal sachets she had prepared. The contents were her own concoction, designed to repel mosquitoes.

Luo Father raised an eyebrow when he saw the sachets but didn’t ask too many questions.

He thought to himself, “My daughter really is thoughtful!”

After wearing the sachets, the mosquitoes around them vanished, and Luo Father marveled at how effective the remedy was. “These sachets really work!” he thought, impressed.

He made a mental note to ask her where she had gotten such an idea. It would be useful to prepare more for the journey—after all, they would be staying in the mountains for a while, and it was best to be prepared.

It wasn’t until they reached the mountain that he realized the mosquitoes here were far bigger than those at the base. The bites would swell into large, painful lumps almost immediately.

Thanks to the sachets, the remainder of their journey was much more bearable. At least the annoying mosquitoes were no longer a problem.

Luo Shitou took a deep breath with the sachet in his hand, inhaling the medicinal scent. It wasn’t a pleasant fragrance, but since it was from his sister, he cherished it and hung it at his waist.

Luo Qiqi then handed a sachet to Luo Qiao’er, who, touched by the gesture, smiled gratefully at her.

Luo Qiqi didn’t intend for her to be grateful, however. It was simply a matter of practicality.

After traveling for most of the night, they finally reached the halfway point of the mountain. Though exhausted, they pressed on, knowing that the higher they went, the more dangerous it would become. They couldn’t afford to stop for long.

The air was cooler now, and the further they ascended, the more they could sense the change in the atmosphere. The mountain was vast, and it seemed to hold many secrets of its own.

As they continued on, the sound of distant thunder rumbled through the air. The storm was coming.