Chapter 45

Some plans seem perfect, but the moment they’re put into action, they spiral out of control like a runaway horse. No—this wasn’t in control from the very beginning! From the start until now, Ruan Qing hadn’t even seen a shadow of a cave. Her first journey into the mountains had been rough, and it seemed she and the mountains were somewhat incompatible.

Ruan Qing clung tightly to Nian Qi’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Even so, cold raindrops still splashed onto her face, and her exposed hands and calves felt ice-cold. Although she was being carried, there was nothing enjoyable about the experience given the circumstances. She sensed that Nian Qi was practically “flying” through the forest at a high speed. When it wasn’t raining, he’d mostly kept close to the ground, moving swiftly. She could tell that “flying” required much more exertion. Now, with urgency, he was giving it his all, desperate to find shelter from the rain for her.

Suddenly, Ruan Qing felt herself sway as Nian Qi seemed to change direction. After what felt like ages, the sound of rain lessened and finally moved away from her ears. Nian Qi stopped. Ruan Qing lifted her head and, in the dark gloom, saw a building.

“Lucky for us, there’s shelter here,” Nian Qi said, setting her down.

Ruan Qing’s shoes were completely soaked. Her ultra-breathable running shoes had let in water quickly, and although it was draining, her socks were already drenched. Stepping onto the ground made her feet feel uncomfortably cold. Her calves, exposed outside her raincoat, were also wet, as were her icy hands.

Encountering extreme weather like this in the mountains during summer was unimaginable for someone from the city. Standing there, Ruan Qing pulled off her hat, water dripping from her bangs. Her shoulders and fingertips were trembling from the cold as she hugged her arms and chattered through her teeth, “What kind of place is this? Looks like a haunted house.”

“I’m not sure,” replied Nian Qi. “I saw what looked like a roof from high up, so I came over. Turns out, it’s a building.”

Setting aside her curiosity, Ruan Qing quickly pulled out her phone. “I need to let Uncle Xiangyun know so they don’t keep searching for me and end up in danger themselves!” She had read news stories of extreme weather tragedies during mountain marathons. The mountains were far riskier than the city. If any villagers were harmed because of her situation, she’d be indebted for life.

In the plains, weather tends to be uniform over large areas, but in the mountains, conditions vary—sunny on one side, rainy on the other. The villagers moved quickly, covering two peaks in just over an hour. Luckily, they were near the edge of the rainclouds and only experienced light rain. But Ruan Xiangyun, seeing the worsening conditions, knew they couldn’t go further. Heavy rain in the mountains was too dangerous; Ruan Qing couldn’t be endangered, but neither could the villagers.

Crossing over the peak, the rain stopped completely on the other side, with everything dry. The group stood at the mountaintop, shaking the water from their raincoats and looking out. Unfortunately, the center of the rainclouds was right in Ruan Qing’s direction. Without hesitation, Ruan Xiangyun pulled out his phone to call her. He had a signal here, but Ruan Qing did not, as she was out of service range.

Ruan Qing, a city girl, had no idea how to find shelter from the rain in the deep mountains. Fortunately, after a while, she received a message from Ruan Qing:

“Uncle Xiangyun, the signal’s weak, so I hope this message gets through. It suddenly started pouring rain. Although I brought a raincoat, I was almost in danger. Luckily, I met someone in the mountains who took me to a shelter. I’m safe now. Where are you? Don’t come looking for me yet—it’s too dangerous! Please be careful! I’ll send a new location, and once the rain stops, we can figure something out. The person I met has been very helpful, and I told him you’re looking for me. Don’t worry. Please let me know you’re all safe, and be careful!”

A new location followed, marking a considerable distance from the previous one. While Ruan Xiangyun found it odd that Ruan Qing, with a twisted ankle, could have moved so far in the downpour, he was immensely relieved she was safe. He tried calling her, but the call wouldn’t connect. The mountain signal was really unreliable. He sent her a message back instead:

“We’re all safe here. Who is the person you met? Have him identify himself, and if possible, take a picture. Let him know we know who he is.”

This was to ward off any ill intentions from a stranger, just in case. Although his message went through, there was no way to know when Ruan Qing would actually receive it. Ruan Xiangyun looked up at the dark clouds in the distance, deeply concerned.

Ruan Qing, frustrated by the lack of a signal to call back, sighed. Nian Qi offered, “You write the message, and I’ll take your phone out to find a signal.”

Ruan Qing bit her lip. To be honest, Nian Qi was the one who had worked hardest today. She felt bad about sending him back out into the rain in this extreme weather, but she also feared for the safety of Ruan Xiangyun and the others if they continued searching for her.

“Well… thank you,” she said finally.

Running through the rain, with her in his arms, meant that his raincoat’s hood had long since fallen off, leaving his hair and collar soaked. Water had even seeped into his sleeves, but Nian Qi didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t worry; this is nothing. Back then, we’d travel through all kinds of rough weather with tigers, wolves, and insects. Much worse than this.” He shook his raincoat, chuckling, “And let’s not even mention the weight of an oiled-paper umbrella. This coat’s practically weightless!”

Ruan Qing genuinely thought that Nian Qi had an impressive emotional intelligence. Any issues he occasionally had were due to the generational gap, not a lack of sensitivity. When it came to steadiness and caring for others, he was every bit as attentive as the second-generation man she had almost married. Handing him her phone, she reminded him, “Be careful. Just get the message out; don’t wait for a reply. Quick in and out.”

Nian Qi nodded, tucked her phone into his waistband, pulled up his raincoat’s hood, and in a flash disappeared out the door, making Ruan Qing jump. Already cold, with dark clouds swirling and the wind howling outside, she felt unsettled in this dim, decrepit house. With Nian Qi’s ghostly speed, it added a chilling layer to the already eerie atmosphere. Who wouldn’t shiver?

Her hands and feet were ice-cold, shivering from the chill. She looked around the dim, abandoned house, noticing the floor was paved with long, rectangular bricks. Whether they were stone or blue bricks, she couldn’t tell, but they definitely weren’t red bricks. The place felt ancient and neglected, with grass sprouting from the gaps in the bricks, some patches growing up to waist height. Four square tables and many long benches filled the room, though the wooden door had long since broken, with the panels lying on the ground.

It seemed animals had wandered in at some point, as several benches lay overturned. There were also a few old cabinets, some toppled over, others with their doors flung open, revealing a few porcelain bowls and plates inside. Among the wild grass on the floor, scattered fragments looked like shattered pottery. Clearly, after people left, animals had come in and wreaked havoc.

Ruan Qing stamped her feet, eyeing a long bench covered in thick dust. Wearing a raincoat, she didn’t mind the grime and decided to sit down. But as soon as she did, the bench collapsed, leaving her unceremoniously sprawled on the ground. Frustrated, she got up, dusting herself off and feeling more unsettled by the eerie atmosphere. The house was dark, much darker than the stormy sky outside.

She hobbled over to the doorway, peeking out. When she first came in, she had clung to Nian Qi, seeing nothing. Now, looking out, she realized this was not a standalone house but a narrow, elongated courtyard. Outside the room was a decayed porch, parts of it having collapsed. The layout was traditional, with corridors leading to corner gates, suggesting this was only the innermost section of a multi-courtyard residence. Based on her knowledge from years of reading historical novels and studying traditional architecture, Ruan Qing guessed this might be the rear quarters of the complex.

However, the place was desolate, with some windows broken and fallen to the ground, leaving dark, empty frames that looked like the gaping windows of a haunted house. One side of the corridor remained intact, and Ruan Qing limped along it, passing through the corner gate. Sure enough, it led to a larger courtyard ahead—a spacious square, almost like a small plaza, making it seem far more substantial than an ordinary home. In a typical household, the main hall, side rooms, and attached quarters would be arranged with clear distinctions in height, but here, all the buildings stood uniformly tall and in neat rows, evoking the feel of a communal residence.

Some doors and windows were broken, and several rooms had partially collapsed. The once-open courtyard was now overgrown with wild grass, nearly obscuring her view. But this wasn’t even the front courtyard; another courtyard lay beyond, with grander buildings unlike any common residential structure, their rooflines distinctively different.

Dark clouds, fierce winds, icy rain, a courtyard choked with weeds, and tall, ancient buildings. The atmosphere was haunting—just like something out of Lanruo Temple. Creepy!

How could such a place exist deep in the mountains? What was this place?

Just as she thought about this question, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky and her heart at once!

Could this place be—