Chapter 301 - 130: That Four-Leaf Clover Pendant Never Falls (Part 2)

Chapter 301: Chapter 130: That Four-Leaf Clover Pendant Never Falls (Part 2)

The view was excellent, stretching far into the distance. Nearby, the blocky buildings sat beside a rolling mountain range, and at the horizon, a lake’s surface glinted. Everything was bathed in an orange-red glow.

Winter night was about to fall, but it didn’t feel the least bit cold. There was air conditioning, and a small color TV.

He asked:

"Want to watch another movie?"

"Wait, what did you just say?" Gu Qiumian’s eyes widened, her rosy lips parting slightly into an ’O’ shape.

"Watch a movie. I promised you yesterday we’d finish watching it." As Zhang Shutong spoke, he picked up the remote and flipped to the movie channel. The signal wasn’t great. "It might not be *Roman Holiday*, though."

"No, I’m asking about the sentence before that!" Gu Qiumian said, growing anxious.

"The day we watched the movie downstairs at your place..." Zhang Shutong said, confused.

"And then?"

"The family photo fell."

"The next sentence!"

"I wanted to go in and pick it up, but Aunt Wu didn’t let me in..."

"So, you were standing at the door to the study, Aunt Wu was blocking the family photo, and you only ended up seeing a small part of it," Gu Qiumian finished his sentence for him, her words tumbling out in a rush. "You didn’t see anything else? Including my dad and me?"

"Of course. What’s wrong?"

Zhang Shutong didn’t understand why she was reacting so strongly. ’Was I not supposed to mention the family photo? Does Qiumian not want people to bring up her mother?’

"Why didn’t you say so earlier! I thought... I thought... You blockhead! You idiot! You fool!"

The setting sun dyed her fair skin red, all the way to the tips of her ears.

"I’m leaving! My driver is still waiting downstairs. It’s not like we’re that close. Who wants to watch a movie with you...?"

She stood as she spoke and went to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. Only then did she realize she’d locked it from the inside. She turned back and shot him a glare.

"Bye-bye, you fool."

Zhang Shutong figured the avalanche must have frozen his brain. ’Otherwise, how could I not understand a single thing Gu Qiumian is saying?’

"What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"I. Don’t. Know!"

But as she said it, a bright, cheerful smile graced her lips.

Zhang Shutong watched her burst out of the room. Her little boots went CLICK-CLACK on the colorful terrazzo floor. Her steps were quick, yet she moved with an easy grace. The silver pendant she wore was always a beat behind her, swaying among the ends of her hair, yet never seeming to fall.

...

"I’ve found it."

Lu Qinglian placed the clay figurine on the stone tiles. She straightened up, her gaze fixed on the old woman standing at the entrance to the side hall.

"What is this?"

"A clay doll."

"A clay doll..."

Lu Qinglian murmured the name to herself, then turned to look at the temple’s right-hand wall. A mottled mural, of an age impossible to tell, covered its entire surface.

Lu Qinglian looked at the bottom-right corner of the mural.

The blue pigment represented the lake.

The black pigment represented the swamp.

The green pigment represented the weeds.

By now, the pigments had long since faded, as if covered in a layer of stubborn dust, but it was still easy to see the black and green surrounding the blue.

Lying within it was a doll, its features indistinct, with a simple, endearing quality.

The doll was an earthy yellow color; perhaps the pigment used to paint it was made from some kind of soil.

Lu Qinglian silently looked further along the mural.

The next scene in the mural showed a person lying on the ground, eyes shut tight, surrounded by more people. The onlookers’ eyes were painted as inverted triangles, perhaps to represent sorrow.

In the third scene, the person with closed eyes appeared in the swamp.

In the fourth scene, the clay doll vanished, as did the person with closed eyes. The swamp was empty.

In the fifth scene, the person with closed eyes reappeared among the people.

The dead had returned to life.

The mural ended abruptly.

Lu Qinglian retracted her gaze and turned to leave.

But the old woman called out to her:

"Tell me, how did you encounter it?"

"A chance encounter."

"Go on."

"I knocked that person unconscious and, as you instructed, took it to the waters in the west."

"Who had it turned into before?"

"I don’t know them."

"Place it on the altar." The old woman’s voice was low, like shards of glass scraping across stone.

She watched the young woman place the clay doll before the statue of the deity. The flame on a nearby candlestick flickered weakly, its light licking at the doll’s body. The doll had no facial features, only a blurry face—an obscure, ambiguous expression that was neither a smile nor a frown, like a child’s figurine.

"Good child."

The old woman’s tightly furrowed brow finally relaxed.

"Good child. You did even better than I expected. It took you less than five days to find it."

The old woman had waist-length silver hair. Her back was hunched as she slowly walked to the young woman’s side.

"I’ve told you before: do not forget your duty. You are the Temple Priestess. You should have no other thoughts beyond this mountain and your service to the deity."

The young woman was tall and slender, so the old woman’s head barely reached her shoulder. The old woman reached out a withered, bony hand and gently patted the young woman’s back. Her palm landed with each word she spoke. It was as if time were flowing backward to when she was in her prime, though she could no longer easily reach up to stroke the young woman’s hair.

"Are you cold? Are you hungry?"

Lu Qinglian merely shook her head, her expression blank.

"You’ve worked hard these past few days."

The old woman said slowly:

"Unlike your mother. She wouldn’t listen to me, insisting on being with some man and clamoring to see the world outside. Fortunately, she left you behind. Go and visit her grave tomorrow."

Lu Qinglian’s gaze drifted to the back of the altar. Behind the candlestick and the clay doll, there stood rows of memorial tablets.

Small plaques, carved from wood and set side by side. These were the tablets for generations of Temple Priestesses.

Lu Qingkui.

Lu Qinglan.

Lu Qingcheng.

Lu Qingying.

Lu Qing...

Lu Qinglian looked away and said calmly:

"I’m a little tired. If there’s nothing else..."

"Of course I know you’re tired," the old woman interrupted, the first time she had cut her off. "It’s been snowing, and you’ve been running around outside, haven’t you? You’ve never taken care of yourself, even as a child. Coming back so late every day... I’ve seen it all. Of course you’re tired. Tell your grandmother, what have you been up to these past few days?"

Although the old woman’s voice was grating, it gradually softened. The two of them, one old and one young, stood before the deity’s statue, making rare small talk. A faint scent of incense smoke lingered in the temple. Time itself seemed to slow, and the candlelight quietly lapped at their faces.

"This one task was enough to keep me busy."

"True enough," the old woman muttered to herself. "It has only been five days, after all. Your grandmother is old and my body is failing me. I’ve been staying in the side hall this whole time and haven’t come out at all. Cooking, sweeping the snow, wiping the statue... I felt at ease leaving all those things to you."

She paused, her hand stopping its patting on the young woman’s back. In a kindly voice, she said:

"With so little time, and with you having to go to school and do all the chores, it’s natural you’d be too busy to spare a moment. Now that this business is finally over, well..."

Suddenly, with a dull THUD, her palm struck the young woman’s back hard.

"So, Lu Qinglian! Tell me! When did Its right eye shatter!"

In that instant, sparks flew!

Amid the wildly dancing flames, Lu Qinglian grunted, her body trembling from the unexpected blow. Her eyes shot to the Cyan Snake statue’s right eye. On the agate that she had so clearly sealed with wax, a new web of cracks had appeared.

"Did you think you hid it so well? Or do you really take me for a blind old woman?"

The ancient voice was like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. All this time, she had been slithering slowly through the grass, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

"You... not bad. You’re starting to get ideas you shouldn’t have, too."

The old woman stared intently at her, her murky eyes covered by a white, hazy film.

"It was my fault." Lu Qinglian lowered her gaze. "The afternoon of December 5th. It shattered suddenly after I finished sweeping the snow."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she pressed.

"Because repairing it is a hassle. I shouldn’t have tried to save myself the trouble by just covering it with wax."

"Saving trouble? Or playing dumb?" the old woman said grimly. "Do you truly not know what this means?"

"I forgot," Lu Qinglian said in a low voice.

"I’m sure I’ve told you before, but I will say it one last time: when Its right eye shatters, it means someone has returned from the future!"

The old woman’s voice suddenly rose to a shriek. She was wracked by a terrible coughing fit, but she forced herself to finish, spitting out each word:

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this day! Find him! I don’t care who he is or what methods you use, bring him to the temple! That is the only thing you are to do now. Don’t let me find you entertaining any other ideas!"

When she lifted her head again, the young woman’s eyes were once more as still as the water in an ancient well. She softly uttered a single word:

"Yes."