Chapter 64

“—Chen Shu!!”

The name tore from Shen Jie’s throat, the last syllable almost a raw gasp, stretched unbearably high. The instant Chen Shu tore free from her embrace and dashed forward, Shen Jie had flung herself after her without a second’s hesitation. But a mortal’s limbs could never overcome instinct, especially facing such a monstrous conflagration, a fire fierce enough to consume the entire mountain! Shen Jie managed barely a few running steps before her foot caught on something. She stumbled.

Pushing herself up, her head snapping back frantically to search, Shen Jie could only watch in frozen dread as Chen Shu raced far ahead. Helpless, she saw Chen Shu gather herself into a soaring leap – right into the heart of the inferno.

The flames swallowed the figure whole.

One blink. Like a page softly turning in a book. All the messy scrawl from the previous page, vanished as if they were droplets flung into a raging fire. Exploding sparks. Dissolving utterly into that overwhelming expanse of searing light.

After consuming Chen Shu, for a fleeting moment, the flames seemed to flicker, shrinking back almost in submission. But only a moment. Then they erupted back with voracious fury! Fire tendrils lashed greedily at the surrounding trees and bushes. It felt monstrously alive – gorged and rearing menacingly. The ghastly sight made Shen Jie sway on her feet.

Even she felt her legs tremble beneath her.

Unsettlingly like that catastrophic deluge at Diancang Pass, yet so utterly different. Here, there were only devouring flames, roaring silently. Yet their rabid expansion, this terrifying swelling… they mirrored each other. Swiftly engulfing the cabin. Devouring Chen Shu. And now, leaping towards the stream, reaching hungrily, relentlessly towards Shen Jie herself!

She stood frozen. A numb pause. Then, a desperate, disbelieving cry ripped from her:

“—Chen Shu?!”

No response.

At that moment, the crackling sparks seemed eerily quiet—eerily still, in fact.

Despite the raging flames and the slow spread of smoke, the scorching heat bore down on Shen Jie, flushing her cheeks an unnatural red. Yet her fingers, gripping the tree trunk, trembled. Her jaw was clenched so tight, teeth chattering, as if assaulted by cold rather than heat, producing faint clicks swallowed entirely by the relentless crackle of the fire—inaudible even to herself.

Shen Jie closed her eyes. The smoke scalding her skin, she held her breath, stiffening her neck as if steeling her resolve. When her eyes snapped open again, she didn’t retreat. Instead, she took two deliberate steps forward—

The firelight glistened on the fine droplets of sweat beading her face, evaporating before they could fall. Shen Jie bent down, tore off a piece of cloth, scooped up water from the stream now warmed almost painfully by the heat, and splashed it over herself!

Then, heedless of the patches still dry, she moved without hesitation, racing straight towards the towering inferno!

If her earlier actions held a shred of stunned hesitation, this time, Shen Jie advanced decisively. There was no faltering, no pause, only a resolute charge into the heart of the blazing fire.

The flames, as if responding, flared wildly in the wind, licking towards Shen Jie, singeing her very eyelashes mere inches away. Even holding her breath, the stench of burning seemed thick enough to choke on. She dared not open her mouth, blinking her eyes in stunned alarm.

This terrifying tendril of fire, savage and sharp, finally began to merge in her mind with the cataclysmic floodwaters of Diancang Pass.

But in the blink of an eye—just as sparks sizzled before Shen Jie, nearly falling into her eyes—the fire recoiled as if touched by a breeze. It swept around her, burning harmlessly!

Immediately, she knew it wasn’t merely a chance gust. The fire flowed around her, eddying close like an embrace or an encircling hug. Shen Jie tilted her head back slightly, eyes wide, staring dumbstruck as the inferno seemed poised to engulf her entirely. Then, almost shyly, timidly, as if fearing to harm her, it wavered, twirled, and suddenly retreated with startling speed.

A familiar voice emerged from the flames:

“Ah!… Jie, don’t come closer! You’ll get burned!”

“…Little Shu?” Shen Jie said. Even as the words left her lips, they sounded uncertain to her own ears. She leaned forward, peering into the fire.

But the smoke billowing over this hillside grew denser and denser: not just white, but thickly yellow and black, like the dirty wash from a paintbrush carelessly tossed into water by a weary artist. It obscured her vision; forget seeing the hut or whoever was inside, even the flames became mere flickering ghosts through the haze.

Shen Jie involuntarily inhaled, choking back a cough, ready to call out again.

Just then, the dense, fog-like smoke shifted. A sudden breeze tore it open. Something charged through the haze, lightning-fast, stopping cautiously before her as the smoke slowly drifted aside.

The fire still raged.

Shen Jie looked up. Backlit, Chen Shu’s features gradually materialized through the scorching haze. Her expression was as earnest and eager as ever, a bright smile spread across her face. She sat astride a handsome horse. Before Shen Jie could gasp in astonishment, Chen Shu hauled a massive object slung behind her and heaved it heavily onto the ground between them.

Though “massive object” might not be entirely accurate. As the smoke fully cleared, Shen Jie saw clearly: the thing lying there, neither clearly human nor entirely phantom, was the half-burned corpse of a man, dragged from the hut before it could turn to ash!

“You…”

“I fished him out while I was there,” Chen Shu declared, scratching her head. “Can he be saved? Probably not, huh?”

“He’s long dead,” Shen Jie stated flatly. Yet her gaze remained fixed intently on Chen Shu, unblinking, refusing to shift.

Only when Chen Shu brushed off her hands and lifted her head did their eyes meet. Chen Shu caught the complex wave of emotions held in Shen Jie’s stare. She tucked her hands into her sleeves, hesitated, then pressed her lips together nervously, blinking rapidly, suddenly at a loss for words.

The horse beneath her innocently blew air through its nostrils at Shen Jie. Chen Shu covertly tugged its mane, and the animal obediently tucked its head back. A profound silence fell, rendered even more eerie and unsettling by the backdrop of the grotesquely magnificent inferno.

Shen Jie watched her for a long moment, seeming as though she meant to speak but couldn’t find the words. Ultimately, though, she just shook her head with a trace of patient tolerance and stretched out her hand. “…Come down?”

She hadn’t even finished speaking. The caution fled Chen Shu’s face entirely. Her round eyes crinkled instantly into delighted crescents. Joy returned to her face as quickly as a summer storm clears. She didn’t reach for Shen Jie’s outstretched hand. Instead, full of glee, she swung her leg over the saddle, braced herself, and leaped right down from the horse.

She landed squarely in Shen Jie’s arms, the impact forcing Shen Jie half a step back before she could safely set Chen Shu down.

It was truly bizarre. Emerging from that immense fire—forget the charred body she had dragged out; even this horse had suffered a scorched tail, its once-elegant plume now a mere tuft of blackened, tangled hair. The smoke choked Shen Jie, making her cough several times. Ash from the burning hut littered Chen Shu.

But as the wind stirred, these flakes of ash floated harmlessly off Chen Shu. She stood there—perfectly whole, utterly unblemished, completely refreshed—as if she had never entered the raging flames at all.

“This fire—” Shen Jie began.

“—Oh right, the fire!” Chen Shu responded swiftly, turning away with a hint of guilt, placing her index finger against her lips in a gesture for silence.

Then, whether it was truly from the fairy-like breath exhaled as she spoke, or that simple motion of hers, the towering inferno shrank back. Like some enormous, simple-minded creature that could understand human speech, it obediently receded, its movements even tinged with a trace of hurt. It grew smaller and smaller, paler and paler, until it shrank into a single spark. Flickering briefly on the roof’s edge, it spat out one last wisp of blue smoke before dissolving completely into the forest air.

The entire forest stood unharmed; not one flower, plant, or tree bore the slightest scorch mark. Only the woodshed stood utterly ravaged by the flames. From somewhere, a bird called once, its cry echoing through the mountain woods, lingering long after the sound itself faded away.

“—Fire’s always obedient, not like water. Water’s a real villain who doesn’t listen,” Chen Shu couldn’t help but murmur in its defense, her voice soft.

Shen Jie fell silent, studying her keenly for a moment. Only then did Chen Shu realize she had put her foot in her mouth again. Embarrassed, she ducked her head, not daring to meet Shen Jie’s gaze, until Shen Jie’s hand reached out.

Her fingers pressed firmly yet gently as she wiped away a smear of soot from Chen Shu’s cheek.

“…It’s good you’re unharmed,” Shen Jie said slowly, as if the words themselves were a struggle. “Next time, don’t frighten me like that again.”

Chen Shu naturally thought little of the caution, but a sidelong glance at Shen Jie’s expression told her an honest reply wouldn’t be wise. She gave a few incoherent grunts, slowly murmuring an “mm-hmm” of agreement, then swiftly changed the subject. “Is this person really beyond saving?” she asked. As she spoke, she pointed at the ground with one hand while pushing at Shen Jie with the other, half coaxing, half forcing her to turn towards the corpse lying a couple of steps away.

There lay the human-shaped corpse—or rather, half a corpse. One side was already charred a deep, unyielding black. Earlier, Chen Shu hadn’t looked closely. But now, taking a good look, the impact of her earlier forceful tackle had shattered part of its arm and one ear. A gritty powder of coal dust and burnt residue, much like coarse incense ash, had spilled from the cracked skull onto the withered grass below, creating a grimly absurd sight.

“You think it’s savable?” Shen Jie inquired, genuine amusement finally coloring her tone.

“…Hmm, alright, maybe it’s beyond saving,” Chen Shu admitted with an awkward chuckle. “But why would this person set himself on fire? Even if he didn’t think he could beat us fighting, trying desperately to flee would still have given him a sliver of a chance!”

“It wasn’t just self-immolation,” Shen Jie said, bending low. She ignored the nauseating stench—a sickening blend of charred flesh and decay—emanating from the corpse. With bare hands, she peeled back the scorched fabric that had fused with the body in a sticky, blackened mass, meticulously probing the remains. “Judging by this… he killed himself first before setting the fire… Which means whatever he wanted to burn was more precious to him than his own life.”

Chen Shu watched with fascinated disgust, unconsciously clicking her tongue. Even the horse silently ambled closer, stretching its neck to rest its head on her shoulder, gazing at the spectacle with even more relish than Chen Shu.

After Shen Jie worked the clothing free, whatever had been loosely attached promptly fell away. Only one hand remained somewhat intact among the limbs; the facial features had crumbled into unrecognizable dust. Yet, amidst this heap of scorched flesh, Shen Jie’s probing fingers suddenly stilled. She decisively flipped the corpse over and ripped away the remnants of charred trousers covering the waist.

Sure enough, on the skin there, spared the worst of the flames, half of a tattooed pattern remained clearly visible.

Instantly, Chen Shu’s head leaned in even closer alongside the horse’s as they stared intently at the mark.

Shen Jie stepped back, rising to her feet to give them a clear view.

But with only half the design present, Chen Shu squinted one way and then another without recognition. Finally, she asked:

“…What is this thing?”

“This person is from the Valley of Villains,” Shen Jie stated, a cold snort escaping her. “He took such extreme pains—killing himself, burning down the woodshed—all to prevent anyone from finding the brand on his back… Such astonishing loyalty, Ah!”