The Visitor (2)

In the blink of an eye, late autumn arrived. The wind carried a bone-deep chill, sweeping dead leaves across the forest and piling them before the cave where Gu Jingzhao lived.

He pulled his patched, thin tunic tighter and gazed at the landscape growing bleaker by the day. If he did not stockpile food soon, he feared he would not survive the winter.

The ground near the cave was fairly soft. Gu Jingzhao chose a shaded spot, picked up the old iron shovel he had found, and began digging a cellar. A deep one would keep out the cold and make a good place to store the wild fruit and dried mushrooms he had gathered. If he was lucky enough to catch a few wild rabbits, he could freeze those down there too.

The shovel drove into the earth again and again, lifting clumps of damp soil as the cellar gradually deepened. Just as he was about to reach the depth he wanted, the shovel struck something hard with a dull clang, numbing his palm.

Gu Jingzhao stopped, crouched, and brushed away the surrounding dirt. As the loose soil cleared, a leaf-shaped stone amulet, no bigger than a quarter of his palm, came into view.

Dense, intricate markings covered its surface. The lines twisted and coiled like some ancient totem, and wear along the edges made it look quite old.

Gu Jingzhao picked up the amulet. It felt heavier than an ordinary stone and cold to the touch, but otherwise unremarkable.

He casually wiped the dirt off with his sleeve, failing to notice a tiny crack along its edge. The moment his fingertip touched the crack, it sliced a small cut into his skin. A few bright-red drops of blood ran along the crack and fell onto the amulet.

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