Chapter 29: Misfortune and the Stench of Death

The winding mountain path wasn’t particularly challenging for a modern person – in her previous life, Lin Xihe had participated in company-organized hiking activities and proudly won the Athletic Excellence Award.

It wasn’t that she was skilled at climbing mountains, but the prize was too tempting: a branded sports watch.

The watch wasn’t expensive, but the subtle satisfaction of obtaining something she could afford through a company activity had completely captivated her.

It drove her to wield her hiking poles and keep climbing upward.

Ever upward.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the mountain forest. Lin Xihe snapped out of her daze and looked down to find the hiking poles in her hands had turned into a tree branch she’d picked up.

So she was no longer in the modern era.

The servant from the estate had long since disappeared, probably having already run back to Shu Shi An, after seeing the young mistress use a branch to flick away a dead snake – he’d taken off at double speed.

Lin Xihe didn’t think much of it, only considering that the servant would likely be sternly reprimanded by Housekeeper Yan upon his return.

Looking up the muddy mountain path, she saw her maid struggling with each step, already panting heavily after just one hour of walking.

They say going downhill is easier than climbing up, yet Qingwu’s steps were slow and heavy. Lin Xihe pondered for a moment: Were ancient people’s stamina really this poor? Should she really be so strict about making her lose weight?

“Qingwu, you can use my hiking poles,” Lin Xihe said, shaking the branch in her hand.

“Miss, I found one!” Qingwu excitedly hugged a small tree as thick as a fist – with a neat split and branches sprouting green leaves. Had this maid been a woodcutter in her previous life? Had she mastered the divine skill of splitting trees barehanded?

Lin Xihe was momentarily speechless.

“I’ll find you a suitable one.” These ancient people really – how could one climb mountains without proper equipment?

Lin Xihe looked around. This wild mountain was full of broken branches, thick and thin, but finding one that felt right in the hand wasn’t easy.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a straight branch lying in the grass. Her eyes lit up: “There!”

She immediately rushed into the woods, running with the excitement of someone achieving a hundred-meter dash in ten seconds.

“Miss! It’s dangerous over there!”

Qingwu’s startled cry was drowned out by the wind rushing past. The next moment, Lin Xihe’s foot met empty air, and her whole body suddenly became weightless. She felt herself falling in free fall.

.

Qingwu, clutching that “hiking pole,” stumbled down the mountain, wanting to return to the nunnery for help.

Before she reached the nunnery gate, she ran into a somber procession – everyone dressed in neat nun’s robes.

Huixin from the procession spotted her immediately and rushed forward: “Where is your young mistress?”

The maid’s face was streaked with tears as she tightly clutched the wooden stick, speaking incoherently: “Miss, this is miss…”

From behind the crowd, someone’s gaze swept over the stick before looking up and asking in a deep voice: “Where is your young mistress now?”

Only then did Qingwu clearly see the young man at the rear of the group. He stood tall and straight, his black and white robes particularly striking, exuding a reassuring steadiness. She wiped her tears: “Miss fell down the cliff! Second Young Master, Madam, please go save her!”

Upon hearing this, Huixin’s eyes rolled back and she fainted on the spot.

Huici barely managed to support her, her gaze falling on Wen Zhixu: “Take people to search for her immediately.”

This was the first time his mother had assigned him a task.

“Be careful,” Huici added in a low voice.

.

Wen Zhixu: “Can you determine the exact location where Miss Lin fell from the cliff?”

Qingwu nodded vigorously: “This servant marked the spot!”

Wen Zhixu fell silent. It sounded rather unreliable.

He then inquired about the circumstances of the incident: it turned out Lin Xihe had fallen off the cliff while searching for a suitable stick for her maid.

“A stick?”

Qingwu hurriedly presented the object in her arms: “This is the young lady’s ‘walking stick’.”

Wen Zhixu took the straight wooden stick, his gaze pausing briefly before turning to the nuns: “Does the convent have a stretcher available?”

A nun promptly replied: “We occasionally have herb gatherers who slip and get injured, so the convent has long kept a stretcher prepared for emergencies.”

Amid the chaotic voices at the scene, Wen Zhixu quickly divided the crowd into two groups: two slender nuns were sent back to fetch the stretcher, while servants from the Wen and Lin households along with nuns familiar with the back hill terrain were tasked with searching for the missing person.

The rescue team set off immediately.

The spot where Lin Xihe had fallen wasn’t far from their location.

Wen Zhixu soon found the place. Deep and shallow footprints were clearly visible on the muddy mountain path, vividly suggesting how swiftly Lin Xihe must have been running—like a wild monkey returning to the forest.

Qingwu pointed toward a thicket: “The young lady rushed through here, she wanted to help me retrieve the stick… Sob, I don’t want any walking stick anymore, I just want the young lady safe!”

“What use is crying?” Wen Zhixu shot her a glance. “She’s already come back from death once. You think she’d die from climbing this broken mountain?”

Qingwu immediately fell silent. His words sounded rather crude.

Using Lin Xihe’s walking stick, Wen Zhixu pushed aside the bushes ahead.

Just a few steps further lay the cliff edge. Lin Xihe’s footprints ended here.

It wasn’t her fault—the bushes provided such thorough cover, who could have guessed a precipice lay just steps away?

He leaned over and peered downward. Several old trees grew diagonally from the cliff face.

Wen Ba also stuck his head out, gasping sharply: “So deep! I’m afraid Miss Lin’s chances are slim…”

Only the howling wind remained in the mountains.

The wind carried his trailing words back, echoing faintly through the valley: “Slim… slim…”

Wen Zhixu frowned and, without a second thought, struck Wen Ba’s neck with the stick.

“Say one more word,” his voice flat, “and I’ll send you down there.”

Wen Ba didn’t dare speak again.

“Lin Xihe—” Wen Zhixu shouted toward the bottom of the cliff.

The echo repeated Lin Xihe’s name.

Qingwu called out several times after him, only managing to startle a few forest birds.

If it truly was as Wen Ba said, that the young lady’s situation was dire… she thought, tears sliding from her eyes, then her own life would be meaningless.

Wen Zhixu naturally detested this kind of mournful wailing. He pointed with the stick toward a particular spot.

“That fabric hanging from the tree branch on the cliff face—does it belong to your young lady’s clothing?”

Qingwu hurriedly widened her tear-filled eyes for a closer look.

Several fabric scraps hung from the tree branches. Looking more carefully, though the cliff was dangerous, it wasn’t bottomless.

Wen Zhixu glanced at the broken branches on the cliff—tree trunks as thick as bowls had been cleanly snapped in two. The protruding trees had cushioned Lin Xihe’s fall. His gaze then fell upon a corner at the cliff bottom. Piles of scattered rocks and overgrown vegetation, yet no sign of Lin Xihe. He already had an idea.

Feeling inexplicably somewhat relieved, he remarked offhandedly: “Your young lady is quite heavy.”

“…” Qingwu’s voice trembled, “The young lady must still be alive!”

Who knew what condition Lin Xihe was in? The group had shouted themselves hoarse without eliciting any response from her.

The irritation he’d just suppressed rose within him once more. Wen Zhixu ordered the servants to follow the nun familiar with the terrain and search for her by going around to the bottom of the cliff.

Qingwu descended the mountain to join the stretcher team, primarily responsible for guiding the way.

Wen Zhixu, accompanied by Wen Ba, circled around to survey the terrain, attempting to find a shortcut leading directly to the cliff base.

Using a wooden stick to clear away tangled branches, he plunged deep into the mountain forest where wild grass and vines grew rampant.

Wen Ba, whose father was a woodcutter and who had grown up crawling through mountain forests, was somewhat afraid of such wild mountains. Yet his young master stood straight-backed and fearless.

Wen Ba pushed aside vines and bent forward as he advanced: “Second Young Master, last month an herb gatherer slipped and fell from this very mountain. He was just buried—he was an old acquaintance of my father’s.”

“…Second Young Master?”

But where was the Second Young Master now?

.

Wen Zhixu wasn’t as reckless as Lin Xihe.

Since his mother began practicing cultivation at Shu Shi An, he had frequently visited her during his childhood and was quite familiar with this mountain.

Although he hadn’t climbed it for several years, his memories gradually came alive with every plant and tree.

For instance, at this moment, he suddenly recalled a small path leading to the cliff base.

Wen Zhixu pushed aside the dense shrubs, and indeed, the wild trail hidden beneath overgrown grass was revealed.

He proceeded along the path, paying no mind to whether his clumsy servant was following.

He only wanted to find Lin Xihe quickly and ask her clearly about the Emerald Phoenix face to face—if she had said earlier that she needed the flower stamen stone, he would have found it for her.

Why go through all this trouble?

He grasped the tree vines on the stone wall and descended along the path.

He thought again: Did Lin Xihe break her left leg or right leg? That Qian Daifu was probably unskilled in medicine—how could he treat Lin Xihe? He would have to go to the palace and beg the Empress to assign a royal physician.

“Lin Xihe?” he called out again.

There was no response from any direction.

“Lin—”

Wen Zhixu’s foot slipped, the world suddenly turned upside down before his eyes, and before he could react, he tumbled down the mountain.

.

A dull pain shot through her nose bridge, as if she had been punched. Lin Xihe opened her eyelids.

Had she died again? Fragmented images flashed through her mind, finally settling on the image of a broken branch.

Good heavens, she fell from such a high cliff and actually didn’t die?

Did some heroic tree save her wretched life?

…It seemed she should consider losing weight?

She propped herself up, and just as she was checking whether her limbs were broken, her peripheral vision caught sight of a human figure not far away.

The person lay motionless, like a corpse.

“!” Lin Xihe remembered the rumor about the herb gatherer who accidentally fell from the cliff.

Could it be the herb gatherer?

Even so, she was really afraid of dead bodies.

“Hey,” she called out to the corpse, “are you dead?”

This seemed like a pointless question.

Lin Xihe sniffed but didn’t detect any odor of decay: “Did you just die recently?”

Another pointless question.

She, a modern time traveler, had watched “The Wicked Ghost” and “Ring”! What was there to fear from a mere ancient corpse?

When she fell from the cliff, Lin Xihe’s shoes had long disappeared. Now she only wore filthy silk socks, crawling forward among the scattered rocks.

Twilight had long passed, and the dim, grayish light made the corpse’s pale skin appear even more terrifying.

Crawling closer, she could see the clothing on the person in the faint light.

High-quality brocade fabric—the kind only young masters from wealthy families would wear. She moved even closer, and her gaze finally fell on the face.

Whether it was the line of the nose bridge or the curve of the lips… the person lying there was clearly someone familiar to her.

“Wen Zhixu?” Lin Xihe was utterly shocked.

How could this detestable rival be here?

“Dead…?” For a moment, she forgot her fear and extended her index finger, trembling as she checked his breathing.

Good news—he was still breathing.

Bad news—his breathing was erratic, sometimes heavy, sometimes faint.

Without hesitation, she immediately pressed her palm against Wen Zhixu’s forehead.

The next moment, she jerked her hand back: “You…!”

His forehead was hot enough to boil an egg.