By the time she reached the part about the ‘Nine-story Demon Tower’, the three kids were completely absorbed in the story, both scared and eagerly anticipating what was to come.
After she finished the sections about Hu Bayi being a sent-down youth and then a soldier, Hua Jie’s enthusiasm faded, and she became sleepy, ending with the words ‘To be continued,’ before preparing to sleep.
“That’s really mean of you,” Qian Chong grumbled, “You didn’t finish the dark fairy tale, and now you don’t finish this tomb-robbing story either. If you were an author, you’d be chased by other writers who’d want to send you razor blades!”
“Ha, to finish this tomb-robbing story would take ten days and nights; we better get some good sleep, we need to keep moving tomorrow,” Hua Jie chuckled.
“…” Lu Yunfei adjusted his bedding, quietly accepting the situation.
Fang Shaojun had always been pretending to sleep while sneakily listening to the story, so she naturally couldn’t speak up to urge her on, although she very much wanted to hear more but had to hold back.
“So when will you continue?” Only Qian Chong, the most impatient and direct, asked.
“When I have time later, if you want to hear it, you can ask me,” Hua Jie tucked in her blanket and yawned.
“…” Qian Chong, fuming, stared at the wooden board above, wishing he could kick it.
After a while, Lu Yunfei, who was always slow to react, could be heard breathing evenly from his bunk, quickly falling asleep without snoring—a rarity.
Hua Jie was also beginning to feel sleepy, but the smartphone she was hiding suddenly vibrated.
She paused, then reached into her pocket.
It was the Nokia that Shen Mo had secretly given her. He was the only one who could send her messages on this phone.
She was still not used to this early model, which was like a remote control or a small brick, especially with its screen as small as the mouth of a Wahaha bottle.
After lighting up the phone, an unopened envelope icon appeared on the screen. She instinctively tried to touch the screen to open it before realizing this model didn’t have that feature.
So, she resignedly pressed the buttons one by one.
【Your mom made delicious fried shrimp balls tonight—fragrant, crispy, and fresh. It’s a pity you missed it.】 – Shen Mo.
“…” Hua Jie clacked away in reply: 【Are you deliberately trying to make me, who can’t get such food on the train, feel miserable?】
【Obviously.】His reply was provocatively cheeky.
【….The kind-hearted me will still buy you a souvenir.】
【A souvenir? What’s that?】
【Local specialties, gifts and such. Don’t you know?】
【Pretentious.】
【Pot calling the kettle black.】
【How are you sleeping?】
【Not bad, though it’s a bit shaky and the blankets smell slightly musty. But we’re all wrapped up tightly in our beds, so it’s bearable. Tomorrow when we take the plane to the capital, we can change and take a shower.】
【Alright.】
【I can sleep fine, but it seems Qian Chong and Fang Shaojun might be tossing and turning a bit from the scary story I told, haha.】
【You tell scary stories?】
【Exceptionally well!】Just retelling the stories I’ve seen, a little trick.
【Tell me one when you get back.】
【You’ll have to beg me for it.】
【Getting bold since it’s vacation, huh?】
【Wild and free, you must beg if you want to hear a story~】
【….】
【Hahahaha!】
Wrapped in her blanket and curled up, Hua Jie felt the joy of teasing the handsome boy who sat next to her, even from afar.
【Better go to sleep early; don’t forget anything when you leave tomorrow.】
【Okay, good night~】
【.】
Clutching her phone, she scrolled back to review their text conversation, reading each message again.
Texting was too much of a hassle; if only there were WeChat, she could have made the conversation even more engaging.
Rubbing her eyes, she turned off the phone screen, a gentle smile on her face as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
Until the middle of the night, when Fang Shaojun nudged her awake.
Clearly awkward and embarrassed, yet desperately, Fang Shaojun asked Hua Jie to accompany her to the bathroom.
Groggily rubbing her eyes, she climbed down from the upper bunk and followed Fang Shaojun out of their compartment.
Guided by a series of very dim night lights, they headed towards the restroom at the end of the carriage.
Besides the constant rumbling of the train, there were eerie sounds of wind, metal clanging, and human snoring.
The train attendant was also asleep at the edge; it was pitch-dark ahead and behind, and utterly silent outside the train—no wonder Fang Shaojun was scared.
She waited outside the bathroom, thinking since she was already here, she might as well use it too.
The cold was biting, and she briskly rubbed her arms.
She had brought this upon herself, who asked her to spook them with “Ghost Blows Out the Light” right before bed.
……
……
Early the next morning, Shen Jiaru and the group made their way from the train station to the airport.
Stepping off the train, Hua Jie immediately started shivering.
Despite it being around minus thirty or forty degrees, why did Harbin feel colder than Jinsong? Was it because it’s a big city? The cold made everyone tremble.
Qian Chong carried Hua Jie’s heavy bag and hurried alongside Shen Jiaru.
Hua Jie, dragging her suitcase and carrying her personal bag along with Shen Mo’s backpack filled with snacks and books, walked behind with Fang Shaojun and Lu Yunfei.
The teacher had arranged for a seven-seater vehicle to head straight to the airport.
As expected, Teacher Shen spared no expense, opting for first class.
Once on the plane, Shen Jiaru thought that Hua Jie, who had presumably never been on a plane or traveled far, would show great enthusiasm and curiosity, but she did not.
All four kids were remarkably composed; Hua Jie only showed some surprise and pleasure when she settled into the spacious first-class seat.
The kids were quite indifferent about flying.
Even before the plane took off, all four of them simultaneously pulled out their sketchbooks, drawing the gangway outside the window, the distant terminal buildings, their shoes, and their own left hands…
“…” Shen Jiaru smiled slightly and turned to look at Zhao Xiaolei.
“…” Zhao Xiaolei rubbed his fingers awkwardly, feeling the gap between himself and these prodigies—he hadn’t even brought a sketchbook.
The plane was a bit bumpy during takeoff, causing Qian Chong to occasionally wince and close his eyes in discomfort, but fortunately, there was no melodramatic scene where he gripped Hua Jie’s hand in fear.
Once the plane had stabilized, Qian Chong’s teeth were still chattering.
Hua Jie, worried, nudged him, “Hey, are you scared of flying?”
Qian Chong opened his eyes to look at her but remained silent.
He wasn’t afraid of flying; it was just that in certain insecure environments, he felt the onset of his condition.
The more he feared losing control, the more irritable and uncontrollable he felt, wishing he could jump up and scream, and throw a punch.
Seeing that he was starting to turn pale, Hua Jie asked a flight attendant for a cup of hot water and gently patted his arm, uncertainly asking:
“Do you want to continue the ‘Ghost Blows Out the Light’ story?”
“…Okay.” He drank half a cup of water, glanced at her, and responded.
Hua Jie hoped the story would distract him, and getting engrossed might make him forget he was on a plane.
So, the story of “Ghost Blows Out the Light” continued, and the adventure in the Lost City of Jingjue began.
Gradually, under the girl’s slow and methodical narration, Qian Chong’s emotions stabilized.
He tried his best to control himself while immersing himself deeply in her story.
As Hua Jie narrated, she also sketched out scenes and ghosts from the novel as she imagined them.
When the plane began to descend and shake, Qian Chong did not fall back into his emotions; instead, he seemed to have calmed down entirely.
A good story, it turns out, can really work wonders.
When disembarking the plane, Qian Chong not only carried Hua Jie’s large bag but also slung the snack backpack Shen Mo had given her over his arm.
Stepping out of the exit, they saw a large welcome sign: “Warm Welcome to Teacher Shen Arriving in Beijing—Qingmei Biennale Exhibition.”
Shen Jiaru waved his hand, and the organizing team of the event met up with Shen Jiaru’s group. They boarded a minibus and headed straight to the hotel prepared by the Biennale Exhibition organizers—
All the visitors attending the award ceremony were staying at this hotel.
Lunch was hosted personally by Wang Jian.
Many artists and guests attending the award ceremony had also arrived; the group boarded the bus and went straight to a renowned copper pot restaurant in the capital to have hotpot.
As they got off the bus, Wang Jian greeted each person individually and invited them to take their seats.
After shaking hands with Shen Jiaru, Wang Jian’s gaze swept toward the four students behind the teacher.
“This is Hua Jie,” Shen Jiaru said, patting the young girl who happened to stand first next to him.
Wang Jian’s eyes immediately fell on Hua Jie’s face, and he couldn’t help but smile and say:
“So, you are Hua Jie.”
This girl, whose two distinctly styled watercolor paintings had caused a huge stir and trouble for the judging panel, making them fiercely debate which painting was better—was this delicate and well-behaved-looking young girl really capable of such artistic breadth, even including a gouache painting…
“Hello, Teacher Wang.” Hua Jie greeted politely, somewhat puzzled by the situation.
‘You are Hua Jie?’ What did that tone and situation imply? Had she done something wrong?
Just as Wang Jian was about to say something else, a man’s voice suddenly came from behind:
“Wang Jian, didn’t you say Teacher Shen had already—ah, hello, Teacher Shen.”
A middle-aged man approached and, only then seeing Shen Jiaru who had been obscured by Wang Jian, hurriedly reached out to shake hands with him.
“Director Yi, long time no see~” Shen Jiaru also smiled, he and Lu Mei’s National Painting Department Director, Yi Nansheng, had previously participated in the same art exhibition.
“Ah, it really has been a long time; the last time we met was six years ago. Who would have thought you’d just up and move so far away to the northeast,” Yi Nansheng chuckled, patting Shen Jiaru’s hand with his left before releasing his right.
“I was secluding myself for painting,” Shen Jiaru explained.
“These four are the students you’re exhibiting with?” Yi Nansheng asked, glancing over at Hua Jie and the others.
“Yes, these four youngsters,” Shen Jiaru smiled, looking back at his four students who had all performed commendably in the competition, making them particularly pleasing to his eye.
“A true master leads to outstanding students; they all paint very well,” Yi Nansheng praised, though his gaze lingered on the faces of the two young girls.
Fang Shaojun, whom he had seen before in other domestic competitions, was recognized by him; although she had grown up quite a bit, he still remembered her ladylike demeanor and her cool gaze.
Yi Nansheng nodded towards Fang Shaojun, then immediately turned to Hua Jie, who was standing next to Shen Jiaru, and said with a smile:
“So, you are Hua Jie?”
“Hello, Teacher Yi,” Hua Jie replied, her large, cat-like eyes filled with confusion and timidity.
“Hahaha, it’s you,” Yi Nansheng laughed heartily, patting the girl’s shoulder meaningfully.
“???” Hua Jie was completely puzzled by the reactions of both Wang Jian and Yi Nansheng, unable to understand their expressions.
What did that mean?
So… had she really caused some trouble, or was it some kind of joke?
The other three students were also introduced to Yi Nansheng and Wang Jian, who expressed their admiration and affirmation but without the cryptic remarks they had made when facing Hua Jie.
After sitting down at the large table, Qian Chong couldn’t hold back and poked Hua Jie, asking:
“What’s with those two guys? Why do they look all gossipy when they see you? What did you do?”
“???” Hua Jie shrugged helplessly, equally baffled, “I don’t know either…”
Scared.
Weak, pitiful, and helpless.
As the old Beijing hotpot began to bubble and chunks of meat sizzled as they were added to the pot.
Hua Jie held her well-mixed sauce of sesame paste, chive flowers, and red fermented bean curd, her appetite flourishing as she vigorously wielded her chopsticks.
Weak, pitiful, and helpless… but capable of eating.