Encounter with a snake"

Good and Evil

Shen Qingxuan had also carefully weighed in his heart; since the snake could pull him back from the brink of death, it seemed likely that it could also enable him to walk, jump, and speak loudly like a normal person. However, he found this hard to voice out.

To put it bluntly, Shen Qingxuan had inadvertently spilled a pot of hot tea on the snake. Although he had walked the line between life and death, he ultimately survived. The price for his survival was to protect the snake during its tribulation - after all, he was destined for a prosperous life. Shen Qingxuan didn't fully distrust the snake's words, but he also couldn't wholly believe them.

Up to now, the transaction between the man and the snake was fair.

He spilled hot tea on it, and it bit him, which was only right; it spared his life, and he protected it during its tribulation, which was a fair deal.

Asking for a return gift was initially a joke. Yet, he had to admit that it carried a hint of greed, hoping to gain more from the snake.

It's human nature to prioritize oneself. As a scholar, Shen Qingxuan, although hopeful, also felt genuinely ashamed when writing these words.

Unexpectedly, the demon was so straightforward, granting his wish without him even voicing it out.

Shen Qingxuan lowered his head and remained still.

The only sound in the room was Shen Qingxuan's breathing; nothing else.

Shen Qingxuan had nothing to say, not daring to look again at the black and white words on the paper in front of him, just lowering his head, his face alternating between pale and flush.

At twenty-seven, his life full of hardships had endowed him with more thoughts and insights than ordinary people, but how could he compare with a demon snake that had cultivated for nearly a thousand years?

The demon snake, Yi Mo, had hidden its form from the beginning to the end, conversing with him only through ink and paper, its understanding piercingly clear.

Shen Qingxuan was merely a sprouting seedling, while it had long obscured the sky.

The tea had long gone cold.

Finally, Shen Qingxuan lifted his head, stared at the empty space in front of him for a long time, then slowly picked up the brush and wrote next to the neat handwriting: Thank you.

At this moment, he could only write these two words; any more would be superfluous, unable to express his feelings.

Later, the brush controlled by someone else automatically moved back to the brush washer. Shen Qingxuan watched it, knowing that their conversation was over, and Yi Mo was leaving.

As expected, in the blink of an eye, the cool aura in the room gradually faded.

Shen Qingxuan sat silently for a while, then picked up the scattered papers on the table, arranging them in the order of their conversation, carefully reviewed them once more, and then cautiously placed them into a wooden box beside the bed.

The apricot blossoms in the courtyard had bloomed and then faded.

The buds of the peach blossoms emerged one after another, and within just two days, they couldn't wait to bloom under the bright sunlight.

Shen Qingxuan sat back in the sunlight, having someone push him, smiling under the peach tree.

His heavy cloak had been put away, replaced by a light cape, and he wore a moon-colored robe.

The servants remained anxious, inspecting every corner of the garden, fearing the emergence of another snake that would terrify them.

Shen Qingxuan was indifferent to all these, merely lifting his head to admire the beautiful peach blossoms. Occasionally, a breeze would blow, scattering the delicate petals on his face, deepening his smile.

After the peach blossoms, the roses climbing over the fences hurried to bud, as if unwilling to disappoint the spring. Shen Qingxuan still had his wheelchair pushed next to the roses.

His request alarmed the young servant: "Young master, this should not be done!"

The flowers climbed the fence, dense and seemingly impenetrable, hiding who knows what within.

But he was just a servant, unable to dissuade his master. Seeing his advice unheeded, he quickly sprinkled some realgar powder around Shen Qingxuan to repel insects and snakes, though Shen Qingxuan let him mix the fragrance of the flowers with the smell of the realgar, creating a mess.

Shen Qingxuan's days slowly passed amid the changing seasons of flowers.

Perhaps because Yi Mo had performed some magic to cleanse the snake venom earlier, his health had improved, and he no longer caught colds easily.

However, he remained weak, and staying in the courtyard for too long tired him.

The servants, who had been with him since childhood, developed a keen eye, promptly pushing him back inside and serving him ginseng tea whenever they noticed his fatigue.

From time to time, Yi Mo would also appear.

As usual, it concealed its form and remained silent, conversing with him through written words on paper.

Occasionally, Shen Qingxuan would prepare a table of wine and dishes in the room. Whenever he did, Yi Mo would arrive as expected.

Although they never arranged these meetings early, they never went awry.

But Shen Qingxuan had never seen Yi Mo's face and was still unclear about what this reticent demon snake looked like.

Sometimes he would speculate, without malice, whether it was ugly and thus unwilling to show itself.

Every time this thought arose, he immediately dismissed it. Yi Mo was a snake, and moreover, a demon. Even if it was extremely ugly, it could easily transform into a beautiful appearance.

On this evening, after bathing, Shen Qingxuan spread out his paper and pen and sat waiting.

Over time, he had figured out some of Yi Mo's habits. Every fortnight, Yi Mo would visit the mountaintop hot springs, and on its way back, it would stop by his courtyard for a brief visit - although Shen Qingxuan was never sure if it actually sat down during their exchanges.

It was all his conjecture.

Tonight was the night the demon snake visited the hot springs, and Shen Qingxuan was waiting.

During the wait, Shen Qingxuan picked up a book to read. Recently, everyone in the manor knew that their young master's temperament had suddenly changed, his interests completely shifted. He abandoned those ancient texts and exclusively sought out bizarre books. Tales of mountain villages, strange stories, chaotic discussions, all featuring fox spirits, ghostly flowers, serpents, beasts transforming into humans, and various mysterious legends from the streets were all brought to him, and he read them every day.

It baffled everyone.

Although Shen Qingxuan didn't take the stories in those books seriously, he found the crude but interesting writing style amusing and continued to read.

When Yi Mo arrived, Shen Qingxuan was silently laughing behind his book. He laughed at a crude poem in the book, vulgar yet irresistibly funny.

Sensing the familiar presence, Shen Qingxuan put down the book and picked up his brush to write: You've come.

Next to the three characters he wrote, another character was swiftly added: Yes.

Shen Qingxuan wrote again: I've been reading a mix of books recently.

Yi Mo wrote: I know.

After a moment's thought, Shen Qingxuan wrote

: Are the stories in those books true or false?

Yi Mo answered: Half true, half false.

Shen Qingxuan was startled and quickly wrote: Indeed.

He suddenly smiled slightly and teasingly continued to write: The spirits in those books are good and evil. I wonder, Young Master Yi, are you good or evil?

After writing, he felt he was being presumptuous. Although they had gradually become familiar, their relationship was merely superficial. To this day, he had never even met the demon snake face-to-face, let alone inquired about its other deeds.

Their interactions, though frequent in written words, were merely superficial conversations.

Feeling uneasy, Shen Qingxuan knew his question was abrupt and excessive. If Yi Mo turned away and left because of it, he had nothing to say.

Asking the snake demon, who had saved him and promised him a favor, whether it was good or evil?

What folly!

Shen Qingxuan pondered that it might disappear at this moment, feeling indescribably at that instant.

The solitary mountain at deep night, the brightly lit small cabin, the rustling of paper, the lingering scent of ink, the silent interplay of cups and characters, the shallow exchanges - all might vanish into thin air because of his absurd question.

He found it hard to let go.

Shen Qingxuan froze, staring at the empty space in front of him, motionless.

What seemed a long time was actually very brief, only to see the ink brush rise again and slowly write next to his neat small characters: Good and evil, by what standard? After a pause, a small question mark was added.

Shen Qingxuan's pale face regained color, relieved that Yi Mo wasn't annoyed with him.

But looking at the ink marks, his brows soon furrowed. Those eight casually written characters left him speechless.

After pondering for a moment, Shen Qingxuan wrote: I don't know, how do you distinguish?

The tip of the brush hesitated, then slowly descended again, this time with only six characters:

If it's good to me, it's good.

Shen Qingxuan stared at those six characters, unable to snap back to reality for a long time.

After a long silence, Shen Qingxuan picked up the brush and wrote:

If you were initially unkind to me, deceiving and harming me, but then changed your mind, showing pity and love, what then?

Yi Mo quickly added next to his characters:

Deceive her, harm her, then pity her, love her.

Shen Qingxuan bit his lip and wrote "an eye for an eye" next to the line, raising his eyebrows in a mocking smile, looking at the empty space beside him.

This exchange lasted longer than usual, and Shen Qingxuan, feeling unwell, reluctantly stayed awake until midnight, then put away the paper and pen, and fell into a dream as soon as his head touched the pillow, waking up only at noon the next day.

After drinking some ginseng soup and regaining his energy, he returned to his usual self, basking in the sun, quietly watching the fiery pomegranate flowers not far away, his heart not as peaceful as he imagined, picturing the next year's season, when he could drink and chat under these bright red flowers with the "kind" snake demon that had been kind to him.

Just one more year.

One more year until Yi Mo's heavenly tribulation.

Being kind to me is good.

So simple.

Shen Qingxuan curled his lips, revealing a clear and pure smile, warm as the spring breeze.