The red string wound around his wrist three times and was finally tied into a knot that could not be undone.
The young girl stood by the bedside.
Daylight passed over her shoulders and cast a slender shadow upon the earthen wall.
Shen Ci looked at the red string on his wrist.
It was merely an ordinary object, with no flow of spiritual power and no formation patterns to empower it.
The material was rough, the edges carrying a few frayed threads.
Just like his current body.
His meridians had never been widened.
His dantian was blocked as if by stone.
Within his limbs and bones only faint qi and blood flowed slowly.
He could no longer find even a trace of true essence.
Shen Ci felt no resentment.
As one born for the tribulation, after severing the ten-thousand-year false longevity of the Nine Provinces, he should have turned into dust between heaven and earth.
To awaken now in an ordinary countryside thatched hut with his mind intact was already a great fortune.
“My name is Sang Zhi.”
Seeing that he remained silent, the young girl repeated the words she had just spoken and tilted her head lightly.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, you know. My fated one.”
Fated one.
Shen Ci chewed on those four words in his heart. After a moment of silence he slowly opened his mouth.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Miss Sang.”
He knew full well that he was currently nothing more than a frail mortal.
The young girl before him must have cared for him while he was unconscious.
“May I ask, Miss Sang, where is this place?”
Sang Zhi sat down on the low stool by the bedside, her hands folded upon her knees in a docile posture.
“This is the Eastern Continent, Shen Cang Mountain.”
Eastern Continent.
Shen Ci searched for this name in his memories. The Nine Provinces were vast.
The Qingming Dao Sect dominated the Central Continent and commanded the four seas.
In the previous map of the cultivation world, the Eastern Continent had been a boundless blue sea dotted with countless cultivation islands.
But he had never heard of any “Shen Cang Mountain.”
In that past battle of severing the heavens, he had destroyed the extraterritorial deity with a single sword and thoroughly cut the umbilical cord sent down by the Heavenly Dao.
The false spiritual energy upon which the Nine Provinces depended for survival must have vanished completely, and the entire order of the cultivation world should have collapsed and been rebuilt.
He only did not know how many years had passed since that great catastrophe.
Whether this Eastern Continent was still the Eastern Continent of his memories.
“Have you forgotten everything from before?” Sang Zhi tilted her head.
Shen Ci pondered for a moment.
He did not know what the outside world looked like now, nor whether the past of cultivators had become taboo.
In this unfamiliar Shen Cang Mountain, concealing that past of burying the Heavenly Dao was undoubtedly the most prudent choice.
“I truly cannot remember clearly.” Shen Ci nodded slightly.
“I only vaguely recall that my name is Shen Ci. Aside from that, everything in my mind is chaos.”
Upon hearing this, Sang Zhi showed no expression of surprise and simply listened quietly.
Shen Ci looked at her and asked in a casual tone, “Miss Sang, living on this Shen Cang Mountain, have you ever heard of a place called the ‘Nine Provinces’?”
“Or perhaps, have you ever heard of a place named the ‘Qingming Dao Sect’?”
Sang Zhi thought carefully for a while, then gently shook her head.
“I’ve never heard of them.”
She looked at Shen Ci, her eyes carrying a bit of curiosity.
“What is the Nine Provinces? And what is the Qingming Dao Sect? Are they very, very big mountains?”
Shen Ci looked into the young girl’s clear eyes and knew she was not lying.
“It’s nothing.”
He revealed a gentle, faint smile and shook his head slightly.
“Probably just some fragmented words remaining in my mind. They don’t count for anything.”
“Oh.”
Sang Zhi did not pursue the matter further.
She stood up, straightened a rag by the bed, and her tone became light and cheerful.
“Actually, amnesia is very normal. Many children, in order to forget their previous life in hell, will go beg the Mountain Lord to use his great magical power to erase those memories. Although you forgot on your own, this actually saves the trouble of begging the Mountain Lord.”
“Hell?”
Shen Ci’s gaze paused slightly.
In the ancient records of the cultivation world there were indeed mentions of the “Avici Hell” and the
“Yellow Springs of the Underworld.”
But those were merely transit points for the reincarnation of souls.
Why would this girl mention “hell” in such a calm tone?
“We… also came from hell?”
Sang Zhi nodded lightly and said, “Yes. Hell is so dark, there’s nothing at all, and many people die every day. But it’s better now. The Mountain Lord brought us back to Shen Cang Mountain. Here there’s the sun, thatched huts, and food to eat… As long as we listen to the Mountain Lord, we never have to go back to hell again.”
Mountain Lord.
The existence who brought them back to Shen Cang Mountain and could use great magical power to erase memories.
Shen Ci only felt that everything about Shen Cang Mountain carried a few traces of strangeness, yet he did not think of it in a bad light.
Perhaps erasing the memories of those children who escaped from hell was a different kind of mercy granted by this Mountain Lord in chaotic times.
He decided to first nurse this mortal body back to health, then slowly understand the rules of Shen Cang Mountain.
***
Sang Zhi had already turned around and walked toward the simple mud stove on the other side of the room.
The firewood was burning vigorously, and white steam rose in waves from above the clay pot.
“You and I are lucky too.”
She stirred the pot with a wooden spoon while speaking.
“Coming to Shen Cang Mountain means we never have to suffer again. The Mountain Lord brought us back here, gives us food to eat, and clothes to wear. No one has to remember the past anymore. How wonderful.”
She took the clay pot down from the fire and filled a large porcelain bowl to the brim.
Thin porridge, with few grains of rice, the soup rather watery and sparse.
Sang Zhi carried the porcelain bowl to the bedside and sat down again on the low stool. She picked up the wooden spoon, scooped a spoonful, gently blew on it by her lips, and held it out in front of Shen Ci.
“Hurry and eat. You’ve slept for a long time. You must need food.”
Shen Ci looked at the wooden spoon held before him, and waves of hunger rose from his abdomen.
He indeed needed to eat.
This mortal body lacked the ability to abstain from grains.
Ordinary food was the way to sustain life.
He struggled to sit up, his back resting against the earthen wall. This simple action tugged at his injured parts, causing him to cough repeatedly.
“Cough, cough…”
After steadying his breathing, Shen Ci stretched out a hand to take the bowl from Sang Zhi.
“Miss Sang, there’s no need to trouble yourself so.” His voice was gentle and restrained. “I can manage on my own.”
Although he was a mortal, the cultivation and etiquette in his bones had not been worn away.
Facing a young girl who was neither kin nor friend yet sincerely cared for him, he ought to maintain the proper respect.
Yet Sang Zhi drew her hand back a little, avoiding his contact.
She tilted her head, a trace of incomprehension flashing in her eyes.
“You’re such a strange person. We’re already fated ones. Why are you still being shy?”
Shen Ci was slightly stunned.
“What fated ones?”
“Ah!”
Sang Zhi leaned back, only then coming to her senses.
She reached up and patted her forehead, looking as if she had suddenly remembered.
“I forgot to tell you. You’ve only just woken up, so of course you don’t know.”
She set the porridge bowl aside, pressed her palms together, and smiled a little awkwardly.
“From now on we’re a pair. This is the Mountain Lord’s arrangement. The Mountain Lord said that when you woke up, you would be my fated one, and I would be your fated one. From today onward, we have to stay together forever and ever, and cannot be separated.”
Shen Ci looked at Sang Zhi.
The young girl met his gaze, smiling, her expression open and calm.
Forcibly binding two complete strangers together under the name of “fated.”
On this so-called Shen Cang Mountain, even the marriage of mortals was arranged single-handedly by that Mountain Lord?
Such a rule was strange no matter where it was placed.
But he did not speak out against it, nor did he show any displeasure.
Sang Zhi was someone who followed the order of Shen Cang Mountain; she was merely fulfilling the duty as she understood it.
“Eat the porridge first. It’ll get cold soon.”
Sang Zhi picked up the bowl again, scooped a spoonful, and stubbornly held it to Shen Ci’s mouth.
Shen Ci lowered his eyelids and no longer refused.
“Then I must thank Miss Sang.”
He opened his mouth and swallowed that spoonful of thin porridge.
One spoonful, then another.
Sang Zhi fed him carefully, not letting a single drop of porridge spill onto Shen Ci’s clothes. When the bowl of thin porridge was empty, she satisfiedly cleared away the bowl and spoon and turned to wash them.
Shen Ci leaned against the wall and, through the half-open wooden door, quietly looked out at the world beyond.
Lush green trees stretched continuously, blocking the sky and leaving only mottled light and shadow.
Everything has its laws. He would use his own eyes to slowly see clearly the laws of this Shen Cang Mountain.
***
The sun rose and the moon set. Light and shadow slowly alternated upon the earthen wall.
For the entire week that followed, Shen Ci truly experienced what a mortal body was, and also genuinely witnessed the care that Sang Zhi spoke of.
During this period he remained lying on the bed to recuperate.
This body had been damaged too severely.
The stagnant meridians made even standing a luxury.
Sang Zhi’s care was meticulous, even somewhat overly insistent.
Every morning she would carry a basin of clear water into the room.
She wrung out a cloth and carefully wiped Shen Ci’s face, neck, and even every finger.
Shen Ci wanted to do it himself, but every time he struggled to sit up, Sang Zhi would press down on his shoulders.
The young girl’s hands looked slender, yet their strength was astonishing.
“Don’t move. The Mountain Lord said that patients must be carefully nursed, or else they’ll become cripples later.”
When she spoke, her brows and eyes always curved, the corners of her mouth carrying a smile.
She did not seem to feel that taking care of Shen Ci was any trouble at all.
Not only for eating and wiping his body.
Even for private matters like relieving himself, Sang Zhi showed no avoidance.
At first Shen Ci was still a little embarrassed.
“Miss Sang, please step aside. I can manage on my own.”
He struggled to stand, yet nearly fell because of his weak legs.
Sang Zhi immediately stepped forward and supported his arm with her shoulder.
“Why call me ‘Miss’? Call me Sang Zhi.”
She turned her face, her warm breath brushing against the side of Shen Ci’s neck.
“We’re fated ones. The Mountain Lord said that between fated ones, there are no secrets.”
She looked at Shen Ci, her eyes clear to the bottom, her smile without the slightest impurity. In her understanding, this level of service was a matter of course.
She showed not the least shyness.
Every time she saw Shen Ci avert his gaze out of embarrassment, she would instead let out a silvery laugh.
Shen Ci could only accept it helplessly, yet he always maintained etiquette. Each time he would earnestly thank Sang Zhi.
Besides that, every day while lying on the bed, he would attempt to use the mortal method of breathing and circulating to regulate his dry qi and blood, guiding the qi mechanism to repair his damaged bones.
His body improved day by day.
***
One afternoon the sunlight was slightly dim. Floating dust drifted slowly within the beams of light inside the room.
Shen Ci leaned against the head of the bed, watching Sang Zhi who was sewing clothes nearby.
After several days of interaction, their conversations were no longer limited to daily living. Shen Ci had more than once tried to probe for information about this world from Sang Zhi’s mouth.
“Sang Zhi, what exactly does the ‘fated one’ you speak of mean?”
Sang Zhi stopped her needlework, tilted her head, and thought carefully for a moment.
“Actually… I don’t know either.”
She answered honestly.
“But everyone on Shen Cang Mountain has a fated one. It’s the same for everyone. When they reach a certain age, the Mountain Lord will go to the divine hall and tie the names of two people together with a red string. Then they move into the same thatched hut, work together, and live together.”
She paused, her eyes brightening a little.
“It’s like… the closest people. Oh right, I once heard some older children say there’s a word called ‘husband and wife.’ That should be the relationship we have.”
“Husband and wife…”
Shen Ci gave a self-mocking smile.
For mortals to marry, they still needed the three letters and six rites, the parents’ command, and the matchmaker’s words.
Yet on Shen Cang Mountain, with merely a single red string from that Mountain Lord, two complete strangers became so-called husband and wife.
“Then who is the Mountain Lord?”
When this name was mentioned, Sang Zhi’s attitude became noticeably more devout.
“The Mountain Lord is the Mountain Lord. He is the greatest person. She is the one who carried us out of the Avici Hell one by one. If not for the Mountain Lord, we would have long been eaten by the monsters in hell.”
“Everything on Shen Cang Mountain was given by the Mountain Lord. Our lives belong to the Mountain Lord. Our red strings were also tied by the Mountain Lord. So whatever the Mountain Lord says is always right.”
Looking at the young girl’s rosy cheeks, the strange feeling in Shen Ci’s heart grew thicker and thicker.
This near-blind worship…
Was Shen Cang Mountain truly the paradise away from hell that Sang Zhi spoke of?
Those children whose memories had been erased and who had been tied with red strings—were they lucky ones who had been saved, or lambs being raised in another breeding ground?
The scenes he had seen in the cultivation world in those years were still vivid before his eyes.
Those sanctimonious immortals had also devoutly believed in the Heavenly Dao like this, treating the monsters parasitizing their bodies as gifts of the Great Dao.
Shen Ci asked no more.
He knew that the information he could obtain from Sang Zhi had already reached its limit.
“You have to get better soon.”
Sang Zhi picked up her needle and thread again, sewing while earnestly exhorting.
“On the first of next month, we have to go together to meet the Mountain Lord.”
She lifted her head and glanced at Shen Ci.
“The rules of Shen Cang Mountain are very strict. If you can’t get up by then, Shen Ci, and can’t go to pay respects in person, it will be considered disrespect toward the Mountain Lord.”
The first of next month, meet the Mountain Lord.
Shen Ci nodded lightly.
“I understand. I will recover my body as quickly as possible and not make things difficult for Sang Zhi.”
He also happened to want to go and see what kind of person this Mountain Lord, who had gathered everyone here and reshaped everyone’s understanding, truly was.
Was it a residual accomplished expert from the old cultivation world, or a hero who had established a new order by certain means in the Age of Declining Dharma?
***
Time flowed slowly.
Shen Ci immersed all his mind into the recovery of this mortal body.
Without the torment of corpse miasma, this ordinary body, nourished by mortal blood and qi, displayed astonishing resilience.
One week later.
The morning mist had not yet dispersed.
Sang Zhi carried the water basin as usual and stepped into the room with the morning light.
She stopped in her tracks.
On the bed inside the room, the straw had been arranged neat and tidy.
Shen Ci, dressed in a simple cloth robe, stood quietly in the center of the room.
He looked at Sang Zhi, who held the water basin and showed surprise on her face, and nodded slightly.
“Sang Zhi, good morning.”
He could already get out of bed and walk.
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