Jiang Shu looked up at him almost without thinking.
She couldn’t see his eyes through the mask, but a faint, familiar scent drifted to her nostrils—cool and sharp, mingled with the fresh fragrance of some particular plants.
Before, she had smelled it only on the young man called Shen Qingxu.
The name slipped out before she could stop herself, though uncertainty edged her voice. “Shen Qingxu?”
The other seemed to pause almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t deny it.
He raised a hand and rested his fingertips against the edge of his mask, gently pushing it up a little. In the firelight, his eyes looked even darker.
It was Shen Qingxu, just as she’d thought.
He seemed a little less cold and distant than when they’d first met. Though his tone was still flat, he took the initiative to ask, “Aren’t you going to dance?”
His voice was muffled by the mask, but it was still pleasant to hear.
Jiang Shu rocked the mask in her hand and smiled ruefully. “Everyone’s paired off now. I don’t want to get caught up in all that.”
Her tone was light.
Shen Qingxu said nothing more. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, then he turned and headed toward the edge of the crowd, apparently indicating that she should follow.
Strangely, though people were packed shoulder to shoulder all around them, the locals immersed in the singing and dancing seemed to sense something as Shen Qingxu passed. They naturally—and almost imperceptibly—made a little room for him.
It was as if a current had met a rock and parted around it.
Jiang Shu followed behind him without being jostled once, and soon they had made their way smoothly out of the densest part of the crowd to a quieter spot at the edge of Drum Tower Square.
As soon as they left the heat rolling off the bonfire, the cool mountain breeze rushed against their faces.
Jiang Shu looked up without thinking, then let out a soft gasp.
“Wow…”
The deep night sky was thick with stars, each one bright and clear, as if someone had scattered diamonds across black velvet. They shone with an almost unreal brilliance.
The two of them walked slowly along the stone path, leaving the noise behind. The only sounds were the occasional clink of silver ornaments and their footsteps.
The silence grew a little awkward, so Jiang Shu spoke first, voicing the question she’d been wondering about. “Where are you staying?”
Shen Qingxu looked straight ahead, his voice calm and even. “I’m staying here for the time being.”
“For the time being?” Jiang Shu picked up on the phrase, surprised. “You’re not from here?”
Shen Qingxu’s steps slowed for a moment.
He, too, looked up at the star-filled sky, then turned his face slightly and gazed toward the deeper, darker part of the village.
He raised a hand and pointed in a definite direction. His voice rang especially clear in the stillness of the night.
“Yes, I live here. But over there.”
Jiang Shu followed his gesture. That was the Inner Village, the place Uncle Luo had spoken of so guardedly—the area outsiders weren’t allowed to enter.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re from the Inner Village?”
Jiang Shu said, “But I heard they don’t let outsiders into the Inner Village?”
Shen Qingxu said, “They don’t let outsiders in, but no one said they couldn’t come out!”
Jiang Shu blinked. That made perfect sense; she couldn’t argue with it.
She still felt a little regretful about the Inner Village. “What a shame they don’t let outsiders in. I wanted to go and have a look around!”
The words tumbled out, driven by simple curiosity and a hint of disappointment at missing the chance to visit.
Under the starlight, the outline of Shen Qingxu’s profile was indistinct.
At her comment, he turned his head. His gaze beneath the mask seemed to linger on her face for a moment, deeper than the night itself.
He suddenly asked, his voice giving nothing away, “You want to go in?”
Jiang Shu paused, then nodded honestly. “Mm. I’m a little curious. But Uncle Luo said the Inner Village has lots of rules and doesn’t let outsiders in.”
She hesitated, sounding a little tentative. “Could I… go in?”
Shen Qingxu’s answer caught her off guard. His tone remained calm and even. “Of course.”
Jiang Shu’s eyes lit up a little.
But his next words were like a small stone dropped into a deep pool, stirring a faint ripple that nonetheless made her heart tighten. “You just have to become one of the people of the Inner Village.”
“How do you become one of the people of the Inner Village?” Jiang Shu asked almost automatically, following his words without thinking.
The instant she spoke, she clearly felt the atmosphere around them change.
Even the mountain breeze seemed to pause for a moment.
Shen Qingxu said nothing.
The mask hid most of his expression, but Jiang Shu could clearly sense his formerly detached, indifferent air turning abruptly somber—taking on something hard to describe, something shadowed and unfathomable.
The silence went on a little too long. Jiang Shu began to feel uneasy, thinking she might have asked something she shouldn’t have, something that touched on a deep-rooted taboo.
Just as she was about to say something to change the subject, Shen Qingxu finally moved.
He turned his gaze slightly aside, toward the distant darkness where the Inner Village lay silent. His voice was lower than before, but he neatly sidestepped her question and gave an answer that seemed unrelated.
“For now, I’ll be staying in the Outer Village.”
He gave her an address, a specific house number, and even described the old banyan tree beside it, its trunk crooked to one side.
Jiang Shu quickly searched her memory and realized that the place he mentioned really wasn’t far from the guesthouse where she was staying—only a few narrow lanes away.
His remark came out of nowhere. It sounded like he was simply telling her a fact, yet there was a faint suggestion of expectation left unspoken.
Jiang Shu blinked. Was he asking her to go see him?
He stood before her, seeming a little helpless, and said, “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
Jiang Shu froze. Only then did she suddenly remember that she really had forgotten to tell him her name.
She’d asked his name without giving him hers. How embarrassing.
“Jiang Shu.” She paused, then added, “Jiang as in ginger, Shu as in relief.”
Her name drifted through the quiet air, while the bonfire gathering’s clamor faded into the distant background.
Shen Qingxu seemed to repeat the two characters very softly, his voice so low she could barely hear it, as if he were confirming some mark between his lips and teeth.