Chapter 6: Burial Ground

“Knife grinder~”

Outside the capital, countless villages big and small were scattered about, and every day this sound could be heard.

Though it was nearly noon, people still braved the scorching sun to make a living this way.

To them, the unbearable pain from the blazing sun was far better than the sorrow of their wives and children going hungry at home.

“Hey, sir, need your knives fixed? My skills are top-notch. The knives from the surrounding villages are all sharpened by me, and even some gentlemen from the capital come to me. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.”

A man who looked fairly young ran up to Yun Mu and began to promote his services.

In his eyes, although the young boy before him was dressed in rags, just looking at the fabric’s sheen made it clear this was a material they couldn’t afford.

In his mind, even the dog of a noble family was still part of a noble family, so they must be wealthier than poor country folk like himself.

Thus, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity to make money slip away.

“Young man, aren’t you interested?”

Yun Mu stopped in place, raising his eyes to look at the man who, though taller, bent down trying hard to appear shorter than him, a flattering smile plastered on his face.

“Callus?”

“That’s right, knife grinding. Sir, do you want—”

Hey, this might work.

Rubbing his hands together, the man’s heart leapt.

“If you grind off the calluses… wouldn’t all those years of hard work be wasted?”

“Huh? Sir, what are you talking about? How could scissors be ‘hard-working’…”

He looked at Yun Mu’s raised right palm, at that shriveled hand with its thick layer of calluses, and was momentarily stunned, then sighed deeply.

“You… sigh… I thought you were a gentleman, but you’re just a fool wasting time.”

With that, he shook his head and left the still clueless boy behind, his expression tinged with helplessness.

“Must be a poor soul, that one.”

Afterward, the cries of “Knife grinder~” resumed one after another, gradually fading into the distance until silent.

“So it’s not that kind of callus…”

Yun Mu withdrew his hand, glanced up at the sun’s position, tightened his grip on the sugar-coated hawthorn sticks in his bosom, and headed toward a more distant, desolate place.

His steps quickened, and with each step, a stabbing pain radiated from the sole of his foot, sharp and piercing.

“A bit faster… or I won’t make it back in time. If the young lady gets involved, it’ll be bad.”

He muttered

“faster”

repeatedly, but his steps grew heavier.

“Ha… ha…”

Finally, panting heavily, he stopped before a patch of woods.

Wiping sweat from his face, he cast his gaze into the dim depths of the forest, determination shining in his eyes.

“Let’s go…”

The rustling sound of sharp, thorny weeds scraping against his clothes blocked his way.

Some thorns pierced right through the thin fabric, pricking his skin, breaking off as he was dragged forward, leaving home behind.

After about half the time of a joss stick burning, a patch of bright light appeared before Yun Mu.

“Almost there…”

He spoke softly to himself, steadying his racing heart, but his steps became smaller until he finally collapsed with a thud at the forest’s edge.

Beneath his feet lay a string of thorny green vines.

“Uh… last time these weren’t here…”

He struggled to stand, dragging his feet free, the black fabric of his pants now stained with dark red.

But the boy paid no mind, slowly moving forward into the light.

Tick…

…Tick

Clear spring water dripped onto the stones, flowing along their grooves, soaking the path beneath his feet in circles of red.

“Master, I’ve come to see you.”

Before Yun Mu stood a small moss-covered stone tablet, crookedly carved with three characters:

“Lin Xizhi,”

and an unfinished character

“Tomb.”

The boy’s master was named Lin.

As for the carving on the tablet, it was an unintended act on his part.

Lin Xizhi’s Tomb—Lin Xizhi’s resting place.

At the most painful part, tears blurred his vision, turning the “之” into “之之.”

When he came to his senses, the first stroke of the “墓” character was written as “one.”

At the time, the boy thought, since it was a mistake, it would just have to stay that way.

Then a longer “one” stroke was drawn, and the tombstone ended up reading “Lin Xizhi.”

“Master, there’s been no feast at home recently, and your disciple has no money to buy wine,”

Yun Mu stood before the tablet and took out the mostly crushed sugar-coated hawthorns from his bosom.

“But I brought what you liked. I hope you won’t be angry.”

He carefully picked out the four remaining intact hawthorns, placing the broken fragments on a piece of cloth torn from his clothes.

Plop!

He knelt down, solemnly setting three hawthorns before the tomb, then scattered the fragments onto the ground, knocking his head thrice with loud thuds.

“Master, are you well over there? Have you met my father and mother? If you have, do you get along with them?”

His voice cracked, the tomb blurring before his eyes.

“If you have seen them… could you… could you take this for me…”

His words choked off, and he knocked six more times.

“Three hawthorns—one for you, one for each of my parents… My parents died far away; it wasn’t proper to build a tomb there, so I entrust it to you… If you can’t find them, then please eat them all…”

His voice trembled as he looked up, suddenly feeling something soft and warm brush against his cheek—delicate, soft, pale pink fur gently sweeping his eyelids.

“It’s you… you really… came again.”

Yun Mu sat up straight and looked at the pink little fox before him, appearing as if expected despite its sudden appearance, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He raised his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face but only smeared them more, so he stopped caring about superficial cleanliness.

This pink little fox was rescued by him years ago, quite by accident.

At that time, the boy had planned to drink a few sips of the spring water before leaving but saw her fall into the water.

Without thinking, he jumped in.

Though the current was swift, he had some skill and, after great effort, managed to pull her out.

Since then, every time he came to visit his master’s tomb, the little fox would coincidentally appear.

“These are sugar-coated hawthorns I brought you, but not many—just one. Hope you don’t mind.”

He placed the last clean, uncrushed hawthorn in front of the little fox, but the small creature circled him twice, let out two soft whines, and then pushed the hawthorn back.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like it? Or… can’t you eat these?”

The little fox looked up at him, her beautiful enchanting eyes blinking in confusion, but mostly clear and pure.

Yun Mu scratched his head, a bit embarrassed.

He pushed the hawthorn over again, then took the dusty broken pieces from his bosom and stuffed them all into his mouth.

“See? You still have plenty.”

His eyes curved into a smile as he chewed heartily, the smile growing inexplicably brighter.

Soon, either because he hadn’t eaten these in a long time or the cravings got the better of him, the boy swallowed them hastily, forgetting even to spit out the seeds.

Cough, cough… cough cough…!

He coughed a few times, then smiled brightly.

“Remember to eat it. I’m leaving now. If we meet again…”

Yun Mu hesitated, then changed his words.

“Ah… never mind. Let’s not meet again. My mother doesn’t like animals, and my father has hunted many small beasts. If you were accidentally hurt, that wouldn’t be good.”

Having said that, he stood and bowed deeply once more to the tombstone.

Then, waving his hand, he said,

“I’m leaving,”

and limped back toward the forest.

After the boy’s figure disappeared completely, the usually silent little fox suddenly let out several soft whines.

Then, a woman in fine clothes stepped out of the woods.

She bent down, cradled the pink little fox in her arms, picked up the hawthorn stick, took a gentle bite, and fed the remaining half to the fox, speaking softly.

“Don’t worry. The time is almost upon us. When it comes— I will take him away myself.”