Chapter 846
Daily Life with Shen He
Qi Qi stopped what she was doing, raised her eyes, her gaze still empty, but it seemed that her focus was slightly fixed on his face.
“Walk.” Su Chen pointed to himself, then to the flat sand ahead, “Like this.”
He walked slowly and clearly in front of her a few steps, demonstrating how to lift his leg, shift his weight, and land, breaking down the movements as if they were steps.
"Lift your feet, put them down. One step at a time."
He repeated it several times, then stopped and held out his hand to her: "Here, give it a try."
Qiqi stared blankly at his hands, then looked down at her own feet.
After a long while, she slowly and tentatively lifted one foot, her movements clumsy as if she were operating an unfamiliar tool. Then, she staggered forward a small step, her body swaying violently.
Su Chen didn't immediately go to help, but simply stretched out his hand steadily as an invisible support and target.
“Very good,” he encouraged, even though the step was rather clumsy.
Day after day, teaching proceeded slowly in the desolate wilderness.
Su Chen was no longer a shadow in the dark, but stepped into the light and became an extremely patient, even somewhat clumsy, teacher.
He taught her to identify edible mushrooms like the purslane and the glassy stalk, and told her which mushrooms grew in which places and were brightly colored but should not be touched.
Although she might forget it in the blink of an eye, he will patiently remind her and gently block her when she tries to reach out.
He took her to a safe stream to fetch water and demonstrated how to filter it using the most primitive methods.
He found a sheltered cave, taught her to identify dry firewood, carefully lit a small fire with flint, and told her that fire could bring warmth, but also to keep her distance.
He tried to use the most concise language and the most intuitive actions to give each instruction.
When he speaks, he looks into her eyes, trying to convey understanding, not just through his voice.
He adjusted her posture, guiding her step by step to feel the rhythm of her strides, the degree of force with her fingers when picking the fruit, and the strength with which she threw pebbles to scare away small animals.
Qiqi's learning process was as slow as ice melting.
Even a simple step can be practiced hundreds of times and still result in an unsteady gait.
You may remember what a herb looks like, but it may become unfamiliar the next day.
Her reactions were often delayed, and instructions had to be repeated countless times.
Sometimes she would stand there for a long time because she couldn't understand or follow instructions, and the blankness in her eyes made Su Chen feel a deep sense of powerlessness.
But he never showed any impatience.
He would stop and stand quietly with her until she seemed to have "rebooted" and tried again.
He would gently pat her head after she finally managed to take a short, steady step. At first, she wouldn't react, but later she would slightly tuck her neck in.
When she hands me a correctly picked herb, I will carefully accept it and say, "Thank you, Qiqi."
He didn't know how much of these subtle interactions would remain, nor how much of his current teaching would leave a concrete image in the relatively stable memories of Qi Qi in the future.
But he believes that some things, such as this continuous, gentle, and protective "presence," will transcend the barriers of memory and settle into a more essential perception.
Once, when Qiqi was trying to cross a shallow stream, the moss under her feet became slippery, and she fell backward.
Su Chen pulled her back in time, her small, cold body resting against his arm.
She seemed to pause for a moment, not standing up straight immediately. Instead, in that position, she very slowly and tentatively rested her forehead against his arm and rubbed it against him.
A tiny, almost imperceptible act of attachment.
Su Chen froze, then an indescribable joy welled up in his heart.
He relaxed his arm, letting her lean against him, and gently smoothed her slightly disheveled hair with his other hand.
"I'm not afraid," he said softly, unsure if she understood.
Time quietly slipped away in the distorted space-time, and Su Chen couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed. The flow of time here seemed to be different from that outside.
More importantly, he felt that the time he experienced was different from the time perceived by outsiders.
They also have no way to fully control their own abilities.
Qiqi remained confused and still relied on her notes, but her steps became more steady. When she encountered familiar streams or caves, a faint, familiar glimmer would occasionally flash in her eyes.
She would start to stare blankly in the direction he left when Su Chen was out of sight for a moment, such as when she went to check from a distance, until he returned.
When the familiar sense of separation returned, and the scenery began to blur and spin, Su Chen knew that the time for his return had come.
He glanced one last time at Qiqi, who was earnestly and clumsily trying to tuck a small wildflower into the pages of her notebook, and whispered, "Live well, Qiqi. We... will meet again."
She paused, looked up, and stared blankly at his fading figure. Suddenly, she nodded very slightly.
The sunlight was just right in the backyard of the Rebirth Hall.
Hu Tao was loudly reciting her latest creation, a hundred uses for slime gel, an absurd limerick, while Xing Qiu sighed and rubbed his forehead.
Su Chen stood under the corridor, his hand wiping the soul lamp momentarily frozen.
The touch of that long past, like an undercurrent in deep water, slowly washes over the heart, bringing a heavy sense of reality.
At this moment, Qiqi, carrying several fresh Qingxin plants, slowly walked in through the moon gate.
Her steps were steady, each step carrying a unique rhythm honed through countless trials.
She first habitually handed Qingxin to a maid, who was already used to it and thanked her. Then, her gaze fell precisely on Su Chen.
There was no running, no cheering.
She simply walked steadily, with steps she had practiced countless times, to Su Chen and tilted her small face up.
Her purple eyes, though not as lively as those of ordinary people, seemed to have been illuminated by extremely faint stars in the deep emptiness at that moment.
She looked at him for a long time, then reached out her small hand and gently tugged at the corner of his dark robe.
“I’m back,” she said. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
The voice was soft, yet it carried a certainty that transcended time.
Su Chen put down the soft cloth and the soul lamp in his hand and looked down at her.
He saw in those eyes not only a closeness to the "present" Su Chen, but also a deeper sense of dependence and reassurance, as if they had finally connected after traversing countless years of wilderness.
she knows.
She knew where he went and what he went through, even if the specific memories might still be vague.
"Yes, I'm back," he replied, his voice gentle to a degree he himself didn't realize. He raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally, as he might have done on that distant afternoon, gently placed it on the top of her head and ruffled it.
Qiqi didn't dodge away. Instead, she narrowed her eyes slightly, like a small animal that had finally found a reliable source of heat. She moved closer to him and still held onto his clothes.
Hu Tao's poem stopped at some point, and she and Xing Qiu looked over curiously.
Hu Tao's eyes sparkled. Although she didn't understand exactly what had happened, she could feel the silent, deeper, and more intimate understanding between Qi Qi and Su Chen than ever before.
Since then, Qiqi has become even more clingy.
She was no longer content with simply staying near Su Chen; instead, she would quietly hand him a clean, soft cloth when he was wiping the lamps.
While he was examining the ancient records of the Hall of Rebirth, she sat quietly on a small stool to the side, holding her notes, occasionally turning to a page and staring blankly at some symbols that she herself did not understand.
Even when he needed to go to places like Wuwangpo to handle matters, she would raise her head and silently follow him with her eyes until he promised to "come back soon".
She was probably worried that he would disappear again. The last time he disappeared, she was only half-awake when she realized what she had lost.
Qiqi doesn't want to experience that feeling again.
Her dependence was silent, yet omnipresent.
Su Chen's care became increasingly meticulous.
He would remember to remind her to drink coconut milk, even though Bai Zhu always restricted him on the grounds of health preservation. When the weather turned cool, he would put a soft cushion in the place where she usually sat in advance. When she stood there confused because of memory loss, he would subtly guide her back to the present moment with a simple question or gesture.
They rarely discussed their deep past, but the years they spent supporting each other and learning to walk amidst the turbulent currents of time had become an unspoken foundation for their mutual understanding.
He was the only clear and reliable compass and source of warmth for her when she was just beginning to understand the world.
She was a place he had planted himself during his long, wandering journey, a place of longing that quietly took root and sprouted.
Inside the Hall of Rebirth, Walnut's fiery verses remain as vibrant and alive as ever, and Xingqiu's elegant chants are as clear and melodious as the wind.
However, there was an extra Qiqi during this period.
Both of these little guys are quite interesting.
For Su Chen, the laws of time were never a linear scale, but rather more like a deep sea where strange eddies occasionally surfaced.
After his timeless protection of Qi Qi, he became more silently accepting of his own uncontrollable deviation.
He never expected that the next subsidence would take him to such a secluded and aloof place.
It was a secret realm hidden deep on the edge of a giant abyss of layered rocks, shrouded in mist all year round, with towering peaks like swords, and elemental energy so dense that it was almost a tangible veil, flowing between the rocks and sparse ancient pines.
The air was cold and pure, untouched by dust or noise, and even the sound of the wind seemed exceptionally ethereal and distant.
Then, he saw that figure.
Clad in white as snow, with an upright posture, she stood quietly on the edge of a solitary cliff, her long, silver-blue hair gently swaying in the mist.
She simply stood there, yet seemed to blend into the surrounding rugged mountains and ethereal clouds, becoming the most serene and harmonious element in this ink painting.
That was not a deliberately cultivated detachment, but a temperament that naturally developed after a long period of almost absolute "seclusion".
Stripped of most of the warmth and noise of the human world, only the chill of the mountain mist and the silence of the ice and snow remain.
Shen He.
The name came to Su Chen's mind, not out of recognition, but more like a feeling.
He made no attempt to hide it; the subtle sound of his footsteps on the soft moss was enough to attract the other person's attention.
She turned around. Her face was as exquisite as sculpted jade, but her eyes were calm and still, like a frozen lake, clearly reflecting his figure, without any curiosity, wariness, or any emotion that belonged to "interpersonal encounter".
The gaze was too direct and too clear, as if it were not looking at a stranger who had suddenly appeared, but at a moving rock or a cloud with a peculiar shape.
"This is a quiet place for spiritual practice, rarely visited by ordinary people." Her voice, like her temperament, was clear and calm, without any inflection, simply stating a fact.
How did you come here?
Su Chen was speechless for a moment.
How did we come to be? Were we tossed here by the turbulent currents of time?
This is probably more perplexing to explain than it appeared suddenly.
He could only remain calm and nod slightly: "I have stumbled upon this place by mistake and have no intention of offending anyone. My name is Su Chen."
"Shen He." She simply gave her name, her gaze lingering on him for a moment, as if assessing whether he posed a disturbance or a threat.
The conclusion was probably "harmless but abnormal," because she neither drove him away nor asked any further questions. She simply turned her gaze back to the depths of the sea of clouds and resumed her previous still posture, as if Su Chen's existence was no different from that of a rock.
This is not indifference, but a complete "apathy" resulting from prolonged isolation.
She doesn't know how to make small talk, doesn't need to be polite, and doesn't understand the appropriate distance and probing between strangers.
Her world consists only of spiritual practice, meditation, and communion with the forces of nature.
Su Chen didn't rush to speak.
He walked to the other side, not too far from her, and gazed at the churning sea of clouds.
This extreme tranquility resonated strangely with the sense of time dislocation within him, giving him a temporary sense of peace.
The two stood there on the lonely cliff for a long time, one on the left and one on the right, with only the sound of the wind and the faint chirping of birds in the far distance.
“Look at the clouds,” Shen He suddenly spoke, still not looking at him. “Gathering and scattering are impermanent, yet they follow the laws of nature. The human heart should be the same.”
This is not a discussion, but more like talking to oneself, or a revelation of some kind of spiritual experience.
You haven't met many people, nor read many books, so isn't it a bit too abstract for you to talk about principles? Are you perhaps an immortal?
Su Chen thought for a moment and continued, "But clouds gather to become rain, nourishing all things; when they disperse, they become air and return to the sky. If people only seek to be as free as clouds, have they forgotten the possibility of taking root on the ground?"
Shen He paused slightly, turned his head, and looked at him with a gaze that was not merely "reflecting" but "examining" him for the first time.
She seemed to be pondering those words, and beneath the frozen lake, there appeared to be extremely subtle ripples spreading out.
"To land...and take root?" she repeated, her tone filled with pure doubt, as if it were a completely foreign concept.
“Hmm.” Su Chen pointed to the vast land below the mountain, shrouded in mist and whose outlines were only vaguely visible. “For example, the people living in Liyue Harbor, their farming, trade, reproduction, creation, joys and sorrows are all tied to that land and their relationships. That is also a kind of ‘reason’.”
You just like talking about this kind of thing, right? Then I'll have to have a good talk with you, little girl, about all of this.
I don't think I can go back to this timeline anytime soon.
He considered it a chance to relax; he felt that having someone with him while cultivating in this place would help him grow stronger faster. (End of Chapter)