Devouring Souls to Defy Heaven

2

Grandmother’s hands paused, the medicine almost overflowing. She was silent for so long that Li Qingyun thought she wouldn’t answer. Finally, she spoke slowly. “Your father… was the handsomest young man for miles around. He was clever, opinionated, and unwilling to spend his life stuck in this mountain hollow. When he was eighteen, he said he was going out to see the world, to make a fortune, and let me, his mother, live a better life.”

Her voice grew hoarse. “He was gone for half a year, then came back with a young woman – your mother. She was beautiful, fair-skinned, soft-spoken; clearly not a girl from our mountains. They settled in the village, and the next year, you were born.”

“And then?” Li Qingyun’s voice dropped even lower.

“And then…” Grandmother sighed. “Then, after you were born, your mother stayed until she finished her confinement, then left. She said she had matters to attend to in the city and would come back to take us with her when they were done. Your father waited three months, couldn’t bear it any longer, entrusted you to me, and went to find her. They never came back.”

Li Qingyun clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

“Grandma doesn’t blame them.” Grandmother reached out and stroked his head, her palm rough yet warm. “Everyone has their own path. They had their own way to go. Having you is enough for Grandma.”

“Grandma, I’m not going anywhere.” Li Qingyun looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. “I’ll stay with you forever.”

“Silly child.” Grandmother smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes bunching together. “Grandma doesn’t want you stuck in this mountain hollow forever. After Grandma is gone, you should go out and see the world. Don’t be like your father…” She stopped mid-sentence, as if realizing she’d misspoken.

“Grandma isn’t going anywhere.” Li Qingyun’s voice choked slightly. “You’ll live to be a hundred.”

“Alright, alright, Grandma will live to be a hundred.” Grandmother laughed, pouring the freshly decocted medicine into a bowl. “Go, get the pickled vegetables from the cupboard. Grandma will make you some noodles.”

Li Qingyun acknowledged her, got up, and went to fetch the pickles.

As he turned his back, he didn’t see the deep worry that flickered in Grandmother’s eyes as she watched him.

Outside, autumn winds stirred, sweeping up fallen leaves.

In the twilight, the vast Mangcang Mountains grew dark and mysterious, like a dormant behemoth, silently gazing down upon the tiny village.

Li Qingyun stood by the stove, nimbly boiling water and cooking noodles. He moved with practiced ease, clearly accustomed to these household chores. The noodles were hand-pulled by Grandmother, hung under the eaves to dry, enough to last several days. The pickles were r****h strips preserved the previous winter, tossed with a little sesame oil – crisp and refreshing.

Soon, two steaming bowls of noodles were on the table. Clear broth with a few greens and some pickled r****h strips, not even an egg. Yet the grandmother and grandson ate with relish, as if enjoying a feast of exotic delicacies.

“Grandma, the medicine is almost ready. I’ll bring it to you.” After the meal, Li Qingyun quickly cleared the bowls and chopsticks and brought the decocted medicine to her.

Grandmother took the bowl, frowned, and downed it in one go. The bitter taste made her whole face scrunch up. Li Qingyun quickly offered a cup of cool boiled water, which she used to rinse her mouth before recovering.

“This medicine gets more bitter each time,” Grandmother sighed. “I wonder how much longer I’ll have to take it.”

“The doctor said that after three more months of medicine, most of your cough will be healed,” Li Qingyun said earnestly. “Grandma, you must take it on time.”

“Alright, alright, Grandma will listen to you.” Grandmother shook her head with a smile. “You, so young, yet more nagging than the village women.”

Li Qingyun chuckled, took away the bowl, then fetched a basin of hot water and crouched before Grandmother. “Grandma, let me wash your feet. The doctor said soaking your feet in hot water at night is good for your leg pain.”

“No need, no need. Grandma can do it herself.”

“Let me.” Li Qingyun stubbornly placed Grandmother’s feet into the basin and carefully washed them.

Grandmother stopped protesting, sitting quietly in her chair, looking down at her grandson’s head. The youth’s hair was thick and dark, the ends slightly yellowed from constant sun exposure. His shoulders were narrow, but his back was straight, like a tenacious young white poplar.

“Qingyun,” Grandmother suddenly spoke.

“Hmm?”

“The jade pendant you wear around your neck, is it still there?”

Li Qingyun instinctively touched his chest. Beneath his clothes, a warm jade pendant lay against his skin. He had worn it for as long as he could remember; Grandmother said his father had hung it around his neck before leaving.

“It’s here, Grandma.” He pulled the pendant out and showed it to her in the lamplight.

The pendant was small, about the size of an infant’s palm. It was smooth to the touch, its color a lush green, carved with strange patterns that resembled both writing and incantations. Neither Li Qingyun nor Grandmother could decipher them. But the pendant had a peculiar quality – no matter when you touched it, it was always warm, as if alive.

Grandmother took the pendant, examined it closely for a long while, the worry in her eyes deepening. She handed it back to Li Qingyun, her tone solemn. “Qingyun, this pendant was left for you by your father. Guard it well. Don’t lose it. And don’t show it to others, understand?”

“I understand, Grandma.” Li Qingyun tucked the pendant back under his clothes, keeping it close to his body.

“And…” Grandmother hesitated, lowering her voice. “From now on, try not to go out at night. Stay home once the sun sets.”

Li Qingyun looked up, puzzled. “Why?”

Grandmother opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped. Finally, she just shook her head. “Nothing. Grandma just… worries. Just do as I say.”

“Alright,” Li Qingyun said, asking no further questions.

He had grown accustomed to Grandmother’s warnings – not going out at night, not venturing deep into the back mountains, not talking to strangers. These rules were ingrained in him. He had simply thought they were the excessive precautions of an old woman, never questioning them further.

After washing her feet, Li Qingyun helped Grandmother onto the kang and tucked her in.

“Grandma, sleep well.”

“You too, sleep early. Tomorrow you’re coming up the mountain with me to gather herbs.”

“Mm.”

Li Qingyun extinguished the oil lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

He lay at the other end of the kang, listening to Grandmother’s breathing gradually become even, but sleep eluded him. Moonlight filtered through the worn paper window, casting a patch of pale white light on the floor.

He turned over and touched the jade pendant on his chest.

It was warm.