21 Locked In
It had rained through the night, and the ground was still damp in the morning.
Shen Qingyue emerged from under the covers, coughing a little, and quickly put on a mask.
Jiang Zhu was already up, cooking breakfast.
They had freshly milled rice from the afternoon before, mixed with a handful of millet, cooked into a thick porridge.
After a bowl of porridge, Shen Qingyue felt revived and ate half a flatbread along with a small plate of wild vegetables stir-fried by Jiang Zhu, his appetite surprisingly good.
By the time they finished eating, no one had come down the mountain.
Shen Qingyue remarked, “They really don’t keep their word.”
Jiang Zhu was used to it, secretly hoping no one would come at all.
He had planned to go down the mountain to buy paper and ink for Shen Qingyue but was delayed yesterday. With the ground still muddy, he decided to wait until it dried a bit.
With nothing else to do, Shen Qingyue took out his tablet and began sketching ideas for a fan painting.
Since arriving here, he had played with his phone a few times, but this was the first time using the tablet.
The tablet’s battery was still remarkably healthy after more than a year; even after being switched off and left in his bag for days, it still showed a full charge when turned on.
How much longer it would last remained uncertain.
He had brought a power bank and a portable solar panel designed for hiking backpacks.
It was said that on sunny days, this solar panel could charge the power bank up to seventy or eighty percent in a day. But since all his devices were fully charged before departure and had barely been used since arriving here, he hadn’t tested it yet.
The reviews he found before buying were decent, but he wasn’t sure how long the equipment would last.
He even regretted not buying an extra one since it wouldn’t add much weight.
Shen Qingyue felt a bit conflicted—whether to use the electronic devices while they were still healthy and get as much use as possible, or to conserve their power as much as possible to make them last longer.
He didn’t know how long a phone or tablet could last if left unused and only occasionally charged.
After all these years since elementary school, he had never encountered such a problem with his phones.
Well, whatever.
Compared to the phone and tablet, he trusted the power bank and solar panel’s lifespan even less. Use them when needed; when they ran out of power, even if these two were still new, it wouldn’t matter.
He sighed deeply, opened his favorite drawing app with a heavy heart, painstakingly created a fan template, selected an ink wash brush, and started drafting.
Jiang Zhu glanced over repeatedly, astonished.
This “mirror”—even more magical than the small mirror Shen Qingyue sometimes secretly used—allowed him to draw those intricate, flamboyant shapes that changed size and suddenly came to life!
No ink, no paper—just a hairless stylus was enough to create the drawings!
Jiang Zhu, seeing Shen Qingyue tap the screen with his finger, couldn’t resist trying it himself, carefully tapping the screen. A black dot immediately appeared on the display.
Jiang Zhu was amazed; Shen Qingyue was momentarily stunned, realizing the extra finger belonged to Jiang Zhu, then chuckled. “Want to give it a try?”
Jiang Zhu shook his head vigorously, baffled about how he had just instinctively reached out and poked the screen. The sensation was strange—somewhat hard, yet not quite hard.
“Is this your magical tool too?”
“...Yeah.” Shen Qingyue was already used to Jiang Zhu’s way of summarizing modern technology. He leaned back calmly in his chair and pushed the tablet toward Jiang Zhu.
Ever since acquiring the “magical lamp,” Jiang Zhu seemed unfazed by Shen Qingyue’s gadgets, often sneaking off to play with the lamp himself. Shen Qingyue had seen more than a few instances of this: at night, when Jiang Zhu stubbornly refused to sleep, the light from beneath the door shifted between white and yellow; if he accidentally turned it too bright, he quickly dimmed it. In the morning, while going to the kitchen, he’d sneakily play with the lamp again.
When Shen Qingyue told him which side of the lamp should face the sun during the day, Jiang Zhu was so worried it wouldn’t get enough sunlight that he placed it on the roof. To prevent it from blowing away, he built a small covered frame with a sturdy wooden base to secure the lamp. Now, it wouldn’t be knocked over by the wind, and even birds might not be able to steal this precious lamp.
Jiang Zhu gazed at the tablet in awe and asked, “Can this really be used to draw?”
Shen Qingyue replied, “Not just that, it can—”
Jiang Zhu looked at him expectantly.
Unfazed, Shen Qingyue muted the sound, opened the music app, dragged the lyrics to the very beginning of the first line, cranked the volume to the maximum, unmuted, and hit play.
“A laugh across the vast sea—”
Jiang Zhu watched every move intently but didn’t understand what was happening. Suddenly startled, he instinctively dodged backward. Shen Qingyue barely had time to grab him before Jiang Zhu slid off the stool and fell backward onto the ground.
Both were momentarily stunned.
Jiang Zhu exclaimed, “How can it talk?”
Shen Qingyue burst into mischievous laughter, “Hahaha!”
He lowered the volume a bit and helped Jiang Zhu up. This time, Jiang Zhu kept a distance of about a person’s length while listening to the “magical tool” singing.
“Hey… stop singing…” Jiang Zhu tried to call out to the person inside, but the voice was engrossed in singing and didn’t respond.
When the song finally ended, Jiang Zhu asked, “Why did it stop talking?”
Shen Qingyue stifled his laughter, “It only knows how to sing.”
Before Jiang Zhu could ask anything else, the next song started with a female voice singing a song he couldn’t understand at all.
Jiang Zhu’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Shen Qingyue, his body tingling all over. “There’s a woman’s voice too?”
Shen Qingyue said, “There’s a child’s voice as well.”
Jiang Zhu stood up, uncertain, and took a half step back, silently asking, “Why are you keeping them locked inside?”
Shen Qingyue paused, realizing what Jiang Zhu was thinking, then couldn’t hold back his laughter, shaking with amusement. “Don’t move.”
He switched to the camera, snapped a picture of Jiang Zhu’s frightened, confused, and slightly angry expression, capturing this rich moment with a “click.” Then he turned the screen to show Jiang Zhu his photo.
“I’ve locked you in too. This secret is only between the two of us. If you ever disobey me or dare to tell anyone, I’ll cast a spell to trap you inside the magical tool, singing for me forever just like them.”
Jiang Zhu was speechless.
He suspected Shen Qingyue was teasing him.
Slowly, he moved back a little, bent down, and looked at the image of himself inside the “magical tool,” feeling strange, scared, and somewhat unfamiliar.
Is that really what he looked like now?
Why did he look so silly?
He still preferred the earlier picture Shen Qingyue had drawn of him chopping wood.
Standing tall, frowning, Jiang Zhu asked the soul-searching question, “Are you… really an immortal?”
Would an immortal do such mischievous things?
Shen Qingyue laughed again, then deliberately put on a serious face and whispered mysteriously, “I’ll let you in on a secret—I’m actually a cultivated monster who achieved enlightenment. I used to be a black-and-white bear spirit! A black-and-white bear that only eats bamboo shoots and bamboo!”
Jiang Zhu was silent.
He internally grumbled—“But you clearly can’t eat bamboo shoots!”
Yet Shen Qingyue always craved them, but couldn’t eat much. After tasting a few bites, he’d glance at the bamboo shoots and then back again, putting pressure on Jiang Zhu, who always ended up finishing the shoots first.
Could it be...
Jiang Zhu’s expression changed repeatedly. Was he really a monster who loved bamboo shoots and bamboo? Is that why the mountain god had sent him to this bamboo forest?
“So, were you... tested by... that?”
“Yes,” Shen Qingyue made up a story, “I first had to attain immortality, then face a trial to temper my mind. I couldn’t eat my favorite bamboo shoots or even bite the bamboo I loved anymore.”
Jiang Zhu was speechless.
“Do you think I met you because your name has the character for bamboo? And you happen to have a bamboo grove?”
Jiang Zhu was silent.
His thoughts swirled chaotically, unable to grasp a clear thread. He glanced between the still-singing magical tool and the unruly Shen Qingyue.
“Do you know the mountain god? Did he send you here?”
Whether yes or no?
Shen Qingyue’s smile stiffened as he met Jiang Zhu’s scrutinizing yet expectant gaze and nodded, “Yes!”
Jiang Zhu relaxed and felt a bit happy, but for some reason, a lingering doubt remained deep inside.
“Little uncle!!!”
Jiang Zhu was startled and hurriedly pushed Shen Qingyue’s magical tool away. “You-you-you have to put this away!”
Shen Qingyue hadn’t planned on showing it to others, but Jiang Zhu’s reaction amused him. Calmly, he turned off the music, powered down the device, and curiously asked, “Are you afraid others will see my magical tool, or worried I’ll trap your nephew inside to sing too?”
After a moment of silence, Jiang Zhu replied, “Your family’s singing... is quite awful.”
Shen Qingyue laughed heartily.
Jiang Jiaye and four or five kids climbed up from the mountain below. Before they arrived, their voices rang out: “Little uncle, I think I heard someone singing!”
Jiang Zhu said, “You must have misheard.”
Shen Qingyue carried the tablet back into his room to store it, then strolled out again. By now, six little kids had gathered in the yard.
One was Jiang Jiaye, whom he knew quite well.
One was Jiang Shunzi, whom he had met just yesterday.
The other four were kids he hadn’t seen before.
Of the children who had stolen vegetables yesterday, only Jiang Shunzi had come; the others hadn’t.
Shen Qingyue asked, “Just you all?”
Jiang Jiaye pointed to the four kids and then to Jiang Shunzi, who was standing alone. “We’re together. We met him and his mother on the road. His mother made him come with us to work on the mountain; she went back first.”
Jiang Shunzi quickly explained, “It rained, making the road slippery. My mother was afraid I’d fall, so she sent me with them… They went to their clan’s fields yesterday.”
Jiang Zhu nodded, indifferent to where the other kids had gone. He actually hoped Jiang Shunzi wouldn’t come either. “So, you all…”
Jiang Jiaye said, “Let’s go pick mushrooms! We saw some along the way!”
The other four kids cheered enthusiastically.
Shen Qingyue realized these four weren’t here to work off their misdeeds but were clearly here to play with Jiang Jiaye!
They all seemed quite close to him.
Curious, he asked, “Have you all ever stolen vegetables on the mountain?”
The four kids shook their heads. One chubby boy honestly said, “I’ve dug up bamboo shoots.”
The other three started talking too.
A darker-skinned boy said, “My family cut bamboo and collected firewood.”
The smallest one said, “My mother, grandmother, sister, and brother have all dug bamboo shoots.”
The darker-skinned boy asked, “Then you haven’t dug any?”
The small one replied, “I have. That’s why my mother sent me to work here.”
The tallest one proudly said, “My brother caught bamboo partridges on the mountain!”
Shen Qingyue thought to himself, they really laid everything out about their families.
But their willingness to come was itself a sign of attitude.
He scanned the children with interest and looked at Jiang Jiaye. “Jiaye, can you sing? Your little uncle said you can.”
Jiang Jiaye was taken aback, unsure why the topic had turned to singing. But confident and easygoing, he patted his chest and said, “Sure!”
Without hesitation, he belted out, “Little girls in the mountain~~~!”
“Pft!” Shen Qingyue quickly said, “Go, go, everyone grab a basket and pick mushrooms!”
But Jiaye was already singing and couldn’t stop. The other kids joined in, howling mountain songs. For a moment, the whole mountain was filled with their wild, cacophonous voices—
“Little girls in the mountain~~~!”
“Going up the mountain to pick mushrooms~~~!”
“Fell down a little hill~~~!”
“Sold the mushrooms for red strings~~~!”