When the lid of the pot was lifted, the cabin filled with rich aroma. Yan Dan looked at the dumplings and sighed. She had made extra portions, expecting company, but now only one person remained to eat them. Slowly turning her head, she saw the assassin huddled in the corner and smiled: “Since I cooked so much, I’ll feed you everything.”
The assassin’s face turned pale. “No, I still won’t spoil the girl’s cooking…”
Yan Dan pushed a bowl before Yu Mo, then turned to the assassin, her face sinking. “You seem very frightened… Do I look so terrifying?”
The assassin shook his head quickly. “The girl is naturally beautiful and very good‑looking!”
“Then what are you afraid of?” She scooped a dumpling with a spoon, holding it to his lips. “You shake so hard, I fear you cannot even hold the spoon. Shall I feed you?”
The assassin stammered: “But… but the meat in it, the meat…”
Yan Dan sighed, suddenly unwrapping the white cloth around her leg. “Look for yourself—where is there a piece of meat missing?” She smiled. “Come, open your mouth. My craftsmanship is very good.” The assassin glanced at her leg, closed his eyes, and swallowed the dumpling in resignation.
Yan Dan leaned closer. “Does it taste good?”
The assassin praised desperately: “Good, very good!” He dared not say otherwise, for fear she might truly chop his flesh for filling. Yan Dan smiled. “Then another.” One by one, she fed him until all the extra dumplings were gone.
Yu Mo watched silently, eyes shifting between dumplings and spoon.
Yan Dan asked cheerfully: “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘hey.’”
The man mumbled between bites: “Leopard… Leopard.”
Yan Dan’s eyes lit. “Then tomorrow we’ll make shumai. The best I ever ate was in Tongcheng.”
The leopard asked eagerly: “Is it the shumai sold by Old Man Huang in Yangliu Alley?”
“Yes, yes! You’ve eaten it too?”
“His steamed pork is also delicious, no worse than his shumai.”
Yan Dan laughed. “Exactly! I lined up early every morning, and it was always sold out late.”
Yu Mo coughed lightly. “Yan Dan.”
She turned at once. Yu Mo said evenly: “I think you’ve made enough trouble today.”
Yan Dan nodded obediently, moved the oil lamp, and said softly: “Mountain lord, are you going to read? I won’t argue.”
The leopard whispered: “Are you afraid of him too?”
“I’m very afraid. When the mountain lord loses his temper, he can tear anyone into eight pieces…”
The leopard shuddered, falling silent.
Yu Mo opened a book, but his gaze lifted often to Yan Dan. She had conjured dice with witchcraft, betting copper coins with the leopard. Yu Mo’s voice grew heavy: “Yan Dan!”
Startled, she dropped the dice—three points up. The leopard laughed: “Three one, I’m banker, kill all! These coins are mine.”
Yu Mo rubbed his temples. “You’ll be happy even if buried.”
Yan Dan staggered to the table. “I’ll never play dice again. Don’t bury me…”
Yu Mo patted the mat beside him. “Sit here. No bargaining.”
Yan Dan pouted but moved reluctantly, peeking at his book—Fuxi’s Shushu, boring beyond words.
The leopard, left alone, gambled with his own hands until bored, then curled up and snored.
Yan Dan rested her chin, eyes drooping. She drifted into sleep, head leaning against Yu Mo’s shoulder. He did not push her away. When she stirred, he frowned slightly, rubbing his chin against her hair.
She moved carefully, pulled a blanket, and covered him. Her fingers brushed his lashes. She whispered: “I know you must be sad to see that flower‑essence girl without arms. I’m not good at comforting, but perhaps the lark will give you warmth…”
At dawn, the boat docked at Wuzhen’s ferry.
Yan Dan saw the bustling market. “Is today special? It’s so lively.”
The leopard counted on his fingers. “It’s the third of May. The fifth is Dragon Boat Festival.”
Yan Dan murmured: “Dragon Boat Festival…”
For mortals, it meant rice dumplings and dragon boats. For demons, it was the hardest day. Though her cultivation was deep, discomfort lingered. Still, dumplings must be eaten.
She bought glutinous rice, leaves, salted meat, chestnuts, and handed them to the leopard. Passing a stall of apples, Yu Mo’s steps slowed. Yan Dan quickly pointed: “Young master, look at those oranges. Oranges only need peeling, apples must be cut. Isn’t it easier?”
The leopard muttered: “Too many oranges cause heat.”
Yan Dan retorted: “Pair them with mung bean cake.”
Yu Mo said lightly: “Then oranges.”
Yan Dan beamed. “Young master, you are so good.” The leopard sulked behind with the basket.
Yu Mo whispered: “In two days it will be Dragon Boat Festival. We may not return to the mountain realm. Can you endure?”
Yan Dan shrugged. “It’s not my first festival.”
Yu Mo smiled softly. “You say this now. Don’t cry to me when you feel uncomfortable.”
Yan Dan pouted. “I won’t cry.”
The leopard pointed at jelly. “Steamed pork… jelly.” Yu Mo’s cold glance silenced him.
Yan Dan teased the leopard with siu mai, feeding him happily. Yu Mo’s book creased in his hand.
Finally, Yu Mo dragged the leopard by the collar to the bow. Yan Dan clutched his sleeve. “Mountain lord, will you throw him into the river?”
Yu Mo said calmly: “So what?”
Yan Dan pleaded: “The boat has left shore. How pitiful to swim back. Right, leopard?”
The leopard nodded frantically.
“What if I must throw him down?”
Yan Dan sighed. “Then throw him.”
The leopard closed his eyes in despair. A splash followed. Yu Mo returned, dusting his sleeves, resuming his book as if nothing had happened.
Yan Dan peeked through the curtain. Yu Mo coughed lightly. She withdrew at once. “Mountain lord, are you hungry?”
She laid food before him. “What kind of rice dumplings do you like? Sweet or salty?”
Yu Mo thought. “Salty.”
Yan Dan nodded. “I agree. Salty is best.”
The fifth of May, Dragon Boat Festival.
The boat drifted to Huanhua Creek. Yan Dan felt dizzy, weak. Yu Mo dipped a handkerchief in the stream, wrung it, and wiped her face gently. “This day is like this. It will pass quickly.” His fingers were cool, soothing.
Yan Dan murmured: “Why don’t you… feel anything?”
Yu Mo smiled softly. “Do you feel better now?”
She revived, rowing to the ferry. Suddenly cries rang: “Help, help…” A child’s head bobbed in the stream. Yan Dan moved to leap in, but Yu Mo stopped her. “You are weak. Let me save one, not two.”
He stepped into the water, seized the child, and knocked him unconscious to stop his struggle. Dragging him ashore, he handed him to his sister.
The peasant woman wept with gratitude, then scolded the child fiercely. Yan Dan laughed, offering Yu Mo clean clothes. “Young master, are you alright?”
Yu Mo smiled slowly, like wind through blossoms. “It’s fine.”
Yan Dan thought perhaps Yu Mo truly was gentle.
Led home by the siblings, they met the grandmother preparing lunch. On the table lay boiled yellow croaker with pickled vegetables.
Yan Dan froze. Bailing had warned her—never bring fish before Yu Mo. His true body was a fish. To see his kind cooked and served must be agony.
She glanced at Yu Mo. His expression was calm, unmoved, as if Mount Tai itself could collapse without stirring him.
Next
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
Comments
Post a Comment