This afternoon atop Three Finger Peak, Dong Huiying’s body was sticky with clotted blood.
Feeling very uncomfortable, she leaped into the pool beneath the waterfall to wash herself.
In the shadows, a woman skulked secretly, having discovered this child had run away from home, she had quietly followed her.
Over these days, she observed in secret and noticed some abnormalities.
For example, the child’s demeanor was strange, at times gentle, at times savage, and occasionally she would sit and stare blankly, her profile revealing a touch of sorrow.
Her appearance reminded the woman of two years ago.
Back then, the child had often looked preoccupied with heavy thoughts, and after many events, she had turned into a despised and abominable figure.
The woman heaved a light sigh.
In the pool, Dong Huiying was extremely alert. She grabbed her dirty clothes to cover herself and then looked around warily. But without even a shadow in sight, she almost doubted whether she had heard wrong.
After suspecting ghosts and spirits for a while, she continued to bathe with her jaw set, but this time she was much quicker, briskly getting ashore, putting on clean clothes, and squatting by the riverbank to scrub the bloody clothes she had taken off earlier.
All the blood on these clothes came from the birds and beasts in the mountains. As she stretched her hand into the water and rubbed the clothes, she couldn’t help but space out.
She thought of Yixuan, when at the Liang family’s home, he had taken care of such tasks for her. Once, Yixuan picked up her undergarment to wear close to her body, acting naturally, while she herself felt very embarrassed.
She pursed her lips and squinted slightly, her heart wrenching fiercely, as a surge of violent emotion swept through her.
There was a ripping sound, and the whole garment tore.
With a grim expression, she then got up holding the dirty clothes, stood silently for a while, and abruptly threw the clothes into the pool, causing a big splash. But then she suddenly paused, hurried into the water, and, feeling sorry, fished the dirty clothes out.
She gently rubbed the rough fabric of the clothes, yet in her mind she was thinking of Shujun, who sat on the edge of the kang at home, nursing her injuries, sewing the garment one stitch at a time.
This garment was made by Shujun.
She lowered her eyes and clenched her hand, then bit her lip with a complex expression.
At night, Dong Huiying cordoned off a small area for herself. She sprinkled some insect repellent on her body, then fell into a light sleep resting on her arms.
Lately, her rest had been poor, at every rustle and stir she would start awake, but it wasn’t without some insights.
She became increasingly certain the source of her ailment was in her brain, but here it was unlike her original world, with no precise instruments.
If it was someone else with a brain issue, she, brave and skilled, might have considered arranging a craniotomy to remove the lesion. But the problem was she didn’t trust others. Moreover, craniotomies were unheard of here, too shocking to contemplate, and one false move could easily result in death, hence it was not something to be tried lightly.
In the latter part of the night, she turned over.
Suddenly, she felt a gust of wind attacking her.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she reached instinctively for a small knife. But just as she was about to counterattack, she had a stroke of insight.
She held back, pretending as though she was unaware of anything, seemingly oblivious to the imminent danger.
The woman suddenly sprang out, while drawing the longbow she carried on her back to full draw, and with a whoosh, she shot an arrow towards a majestic White Tiger with gleaming fur.