Chapter 200: I Love You

Jian Mo had handpicked his students, and they were all doing well.

As winter set in, he held his first formal exam—which he called a midterm—to check everyone’s progress and decide whether to adjust the curriculum.

He’d been teaching literacy, but the students still couldn’t recognize many characters, so today’s test was mostly practical, with only a few written questions.

The practical scope was broad—from diagnosis and treatment to gathering and compounding medicines. If Jian Mo had taught it, it could be tested.

His students were a bundle of nerves. Even Ye Luo, normally calm as a lake, crammed hard, afraid he wouldn’t pass.

For a while, the whole Riverside Tribe felt the tension. Even the kids tiptoed past the medical trainees.

Qingkuo found it funny and joked with Jian Mo, “Now it’s not just patients who fear you—your students do too.”

Jian Mo pushed back at once. “Since when do patients fear me? I’m so gentle.”

Qingkuo: “Your mild temper doesn’t stop you from seeming scary when you’re treating people.”

Jian Mo: “That’s the illness being scary, not me. Why—did someone say something?”

Qingkuo waved it off. “No, just talking. Though, while I was out foraging today I ran into Ji Xun. He asked whether you’ve got time in the next few days. Chief Zhouzhi is coming down and would like to invite you and the chief to dinner.”

Jian Mo was surprised, then nodded. “I do. After the students finish the exam, I’m giving them a few days off to visit home.”

Qingkuo: “I’ll pass that on to Ji Xun tomorrow and have him set a time?”

Jian Mo nodded. “Sure. If needed, Wu Jiong can go confirm with them too.”

A meal with friends sounded nice. Jian Mo had first thought of hosting them in the tribe for convenience.

Ji Xun later sent word inviting them up the mountain instead—easier to talk on the mountaintop.

That worked too. Once he’d clarified the time, Jian Mo agreed.

The midterm wrapped up quickly.

Most of it was hands-on, and a glance told Jian Mo roughly where each student stood.

Just as he’d hoped, they were learning well, and his teaching plan was solid. At this pace, by spring they’d be able to return to their tribes and serve as witch-doctors, relieving people’s ailments.

Satisfied, Jian Mo finished grading and granted five days off so they could go home.

People in this world rarely travel—let alone far from family. After weeks of class, homesickness was to be expected, so a break felt necessary.

The five days mainly accommodated students from farther away so they could make the round trip.

Those from other tribes departed quickly. Ye Luo and the Riverside crew hadn’t hunted or foraged with the tribe in a while, so they headed out too.

Jian Mo, in high spirits, grabbed Wu Jiong and set off for their dinner date.

The weather wasn’t great—overcast skies with sunbeams sometimes knifing through cracks in the clouds, tearing open the bleak early winter with columns of light.

There’d been no snow these days, but there was frost, and the snow on the peaks hadn’t melted.

Bundled in a hide coat, Jian Mo hugged the great wolf’s neck, body lowered to avoid the knifing wind.

With half his body pressed to the wolf’s back, he wasn’t exactly cold—just struck by the strange sensation.

The wind was so fierce it chilled his teeth.

Halfway there he had to pull his collar up over most of his face, and that finally helped.

By the time they reached Ji Xun’s place, Zhouzhi and Qiming were already there.

Zhouzhi was as slender as ever—a clean, striking presence.

Seeing him, Jian Mo couldn’t help but step in for a gentle hug. “Zhouzhi, long time no see.”

Zhouzhi smiled. “Long time no see. Hello, Chief Wu Jiong.”

Wu Jiong nodded, exchanged brief greetings with Qiming, and that was the end of the pleasantries.

Ji Xun came out, smiling as he welcomed them. “You’re all here. Let’s do hotpot—cook whatever you like. We’ve prepared a lot of ingredients. Eat your fill.”

Both Ji Xun and Zhouzhi were expecting, their tastes a bit different from before. A double-sided (yuan-yang) hotpot was the easiest way to accommodate.

At Ji Xun’s urging, they settled around the simmering pot.

Jian Mo laughed. “I was just about to give you two a checkup.”

Ji Xun slid a plate of meat into the broth. “Plenty of time for that after—we should eat first. Mo’a went out early to hunt the meat this morning—fresh as can be. These dried greens and mushrooms are ones I sun-dried myself—excellent varieties. And the fresh vegetables and tubers are from Zhouzhi’s side.”

Jian Mo had already noticed. “What a spread.”

Ji Xun arched a brow. “Of course. We live in the mountains—how could we ever lack for food?”

Mo’a brought cups and poured tea sweetened with honey chunks.

Since Ji Xun and Zhouzhi shouldn’t drink fruit wine, everyone had tea instead. There were two kettles—one for them, one for the rest.

Jian Mo took a sip—sweet and cool, perfect with hotpot. “Wow, how’d you make this tea? Sweet, cooling, crisp and refreshing.”

Ji Xun: “Extra leaves and plenty of honey powder. Most importantly, we set your kettle in the creek outside to chill.”

Jian Mo praised, “No wonder. It’s delicious.”

Ji Xun: “Then drink more—and eat. If we don’t finish the meat today, it won’t be as fresh tomorrow.”

Zhouzhi smiled. “It’s fine—the beastmen can finish it off.”

Qiming nodded in agreement. “Right, we’ll polish it all.”

Hearing that, Jian Mo glanced at them. “Sounds like you two have been getting along well.”

Qiming beamed. “We plan to become mates. I’ll move to the Bozhi Tribe in a while.”

Jian Mo was a bit surprised; he hadn’t expected Qiming to be the one moving, rather than each staying put—or Zhouzhi moving to Rainrise.

He asked, “Won’t that make running Rainrise day-to-day more difficult?”

Qiming: “It’s fine. Our two tribes are close. I can slip back to work every day. In a couple of years I’ll train a new chief.”

Jian Mo: “That’s no small task. A toast to you both.”

They raised their cups and drank.

Then they carried on chatting.

A single household on the mountain can feel lonely.

Lately, though, the armadillos of the Rock-forest Tribe had been active up north, so sometimes there were neighbors to talk with—better than nothing.

Jian Mo found it hard to imagine. “They speak so slowly. You can still talk for ages?”

Ji Xun: “Sure. Their meaning’s easy to grasp—often two or three words and you’ve got it. No need to wait for the full sentence.”

Jian Mo gave a thumbs-up.

Ji Xun: “They’re easy to deal with. When we trade, they never haggle—much easier neighbors than most tribes.”

Jian Mo agreed. “We sometimes gather in their territory too, and they don’t mind—though we always bring payment afterward.”

Ji Xun: “Same here. They make good neighbors.”

Conversation turned to Jian Mo’s teaching. Feeling pretty pleased, he said, “By next year we’ll have a whole batch of witch-doctors here. Getting treated will be so much easier.”

Ji Xun: “That’s remarkable. You’re always saying what we do is impressive, but you’re the one doing big things.”

Jian Mo smiled and lifted his cup. “Not really—I just do what I can. Come on, another toast—to our good life.”

They ate hotpot from afternoon into dusk, until Jian Mo was stuffed.

Afterward he checked Ji Xun and Zhouzhi’s health; seeing no issues, he bid them farewell and headed home.

Too full to ride the wolf, Jian Mo decided they should walk it off—strolling slowly, resting if they got tired.

It was chilly, but they’d eaten so much their bodies were warm; the wind didn’t bite at all.

They followed the ridgeline down through seas of dead grass.

A gust would send it swaying, and with the sunset, blue sky, and distant snowy peaks, it was beautiful.

Jian Mo broke off a long dry stalk at the roadside and held it in his teeth. “It’s gorgeous here.”

Wu Jiong: “We should come out more when we have time.”

Jian Mo laughed. “I’m in. When we tire of the east, we’ll walk west; when we tire of the south, we’ll go north.”

Wu Jiong: “Mm. When we tire of the mountains, we’ll go to the river; when we tire of the woods, we’ll go to the lakeshore. There are no paths anywhere—so everywhere is a path.”

Jian Mo burst out laughing and kept laughing for a while.

After a bit, he suddenly hopped onto Wu Jiong’s back for a piggyback.

Wu Jiong didn’t mind and carried him along at an easy pace.

It was rare to stroll so far away; both felt a quiet warmth. The road didn’t feel long—if anything, it felt too short, not enough walking to be satisfied.

Coming off the mountain and along the trail toward the tribe, Jian Mo suddenly noticed a strange path beyond a stand of brush.

He hadn’t been out gathering in a while, busy with classes. Seeing an unfamiliar path, he figured it was newly opened and looked again.

Just then he felt Wu Jiong’s grip tighten slightly around his hand. Surprised, he looked up—and saw that Wu Jiong’s face had gone a little pale.

“What is it?” Jian Mo asked.

Wu Jiong was silent a moment before saying, “That’s not a path our tribe cut. It’s the one you came by.”

Jian Mo froze, then understood—he meant the path to the modern world.

“No way?”

Wu Jiong didn’t answer. He took Jian Mo’s hand and led him to the brush.

They stood at the thicket’s edge and looked down the path.

Jian Mo saw the path. He saw stone steps. And, beyond the gap in the trees, he saw the city.

His mouth fell open.

Wu Jiong looked at him, loosening his grip slightly before tightening again—hard enough to make Jian Mo’s knuckles ache.

Wu Jiong’s voice came out hoarse, winter-cold. “Do you want to go take a look?”

Jian Mo turned to him.

Wu Jiong’s face was bloodless.

Jian Mo squeezed his hand. “No.”

“Of course not.”

Wu Jiong opened his mouth, then shut it again.

They stood there by that path until night fell.

It was the same path, but fog slowly crept in, shrouding most of it. The city beyond vanished entirely.

Jian Mo turned to Wu Jiong. “Let’s go back.”

Wu Jiong: “Don’t you want to think about it more?”

“No.” Jian Mo’s voice was easy. “I chose my mate. I chose to live in the Riverside Tribe. Right now I feel full, peaceful, happy.”

Wu Jiong looked at him.

Jian Mo held his hand tight and smiled. “My life has moved into this chapter. There’s no going back to the last one—nor do I want to. What’s across that road isn’t the future. It’s the past.”

Wu Jiong suddenly wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

Folded completely into his embrace, Jian Mo paused, then patted his back. “You’re the greatest love in my life, the sum of all I love. Nothing can outweigh you. Don’t worry.”

Wu Jiong’s voice was muffled, as if damp with dew. “Same for me. I love you.”

—The End—