Mortal World Lin Chronicle I

The snow had stopped.

Tang Ziran and Lang Yue cradled the infant in their arms as they trudged back, one foot deep, one foot shallow, through the snow. The heavy packs they had carried on the way there now felt feather-light, because all their attention—and all sense of weight—was focused on the tiny bundle in their arms.

The child was quiet. He neither cried nor fussed, merely gazing curiously at Lang Yue's chin with clear blue eyes, occasionally making soft little "ah" sounds. The white cloth wrapped around him was unusually soft, cool and comfortable against the skin, shielding him from the cold outside. Lang Yue could feel that his tiny body remained warm the entire time, and the source seemed to be the ice-crystal-like hexagonal snowflake pressed against his chest inside the swaddling clothes.

"Ziran, look at this snowflake... doesn't it seem a little brighter?" Lang Yue lowered her voice and could not help looking down again. The blue-gold gleam at the center of the snowflake seemed to brighten and dim ever so slightly with the child's breathing, as though it were alive.

Tang Ziran leaned closer and held his breath as he watched for a moment, his brow faintly furrowing. "It seems so... Don't keep staring at it. This thing... and this cloth, they're too conspicuous." As he spoke, he instinctively shifted his body, using his broad shoulders to block any possible gazes from the road, even though there was not so much as a wild rabbit in this frozen wilderness besides them. "Once we get back, we need to find a way to hide them. No one can be allowed to see them."

"I know." Lang Yue tightened her arms and sheltered the child's face closer against her chest, her voice soft but firm. "But this cloth is so comfortable, and it keeps him warm. It's good for him to wear against his skin. And this snowflake... I'm afraid he'll be cold without it." She paused, but did not slow her steps. "His name... 'Tang Wulin' is embroidered on the cloth. Should we... call him that?"

Tang Ziran walked in silence for some distance, his footsteps crunching through the snow. "Tang Wulin... We'll call him what's embroidered on the cloth. We'll take it as something his birth parents left for him." His tone was somewhat stiff, though it was unclear whether he was speaking to Lang Yue or to himself, making this bizarre story take root in his heart and become a "fact" that would withstand any future questions. "To everyone else, he's the son of Tang Ziran and Lang Yue. We found him in the snow. His birth parents... probably met with disaster and died. He already had his name when we found him."

Lang Yue murmured an acknowledgment and said no more. She only lowered her head, gently rubbing her cheek against the infant's soft hair, and whispered, "Little Wulin, let's go home."

Their "home" was in a small place called Cold Pine Town on the edge of the snowfields. The town had barely a hundred households, most making their living by gathering low-level soul beast materials in the nearby forests or growing cold-resistant crops. Tang Ziran and Lang Yue's house stood at the western end of town. It was small, with walls of piled stone and a roof covered in thick layers of packed cedar bark. It looked plain, but sturdy. Old Jack, the town carpenter and an elder who had watched Tang Ziran grow up, lived next door.

The two slipped into their home like thieves and quickly barred the door. The fire in the hearth had long gone out, and the house was nearly as cold as an ice cellar. Tang Ziran hurried to start a fire, while Lang Yue carried the child into the inner room and frantically dug out the soft little bedding she had prepared long ago but never had the chance to use.

She carefully lifted the infant from the white robe that had served as his swaddling cloth, intending to change him into ordinary cotton wrappings. The instant her fingers touched the edge of the white robe, the quiet infant suddenly pursed his lips.

"Mm..."

A tiny whimper sounded.

Lang Yue froze, then soothed him softly. "Be good, Wulin. Be good. Mommy will change you into something warmer..."

She tried to gently pull the white robe out from beneath him.

The instant the cloth left his skin—

"Waaah—!!!"

A piercing, thunderous wail erupted so suddenly that Tang Ziran, who was lighting the fire in the outer room, jolted and nearly knocked over the oil lamp. Lang Yue was caught even more off guard. The child's little face instantly turned red, his eyes squeezed shut as tears gushed forth. His limbs kicked wildly, and his crying was filled with indescribable terror and pain. It was nothing like the ordinary fussing of a hungry or wet infant.

What made Lang Yue's heart pound even harder was that, at the very moment his cries began, she seemed to catch a glimpse from the corner of her eye of an exceedingly faint, nearly imperceptible dark golden pattern flashing across the exposed skin of his pale, tender chest. It vanished in an instant.

"What happened? What happened?" Tang Ziran rushed in.

"I don't know! I just wanted to change his clothes, but as soon as I took away this cloth, he..." Lang Yue was both anxious and heartbroken. She hurriedly wrapped the pulled-away white robe tightly around the child again, especially pressing that ice-crystal snowflake firmly back against his chest.

Strangely enough, once the white robe was wrapped back around him and the snowflake pressed close, the earth-shaking cries stopped as abruptly as if someone had strangled them off. Only his tiny body continued to hiccup and tremble. Tears clung to his eyelashes as he opened his eyes in aggrieved misery and looked at Lang Yue, as though accusing her of that frightening "separation."

The husband and wife looked at each other. Both saw shock and lingering fear in the other's eyes.

"This..." Tang Ziran swallowed, staring at the snowflake, which had returned to its peaceful state and emitted a gentle glow, then at the infant's face as he quickly calmed. "This thing... this cloth... can't leave his body."

He tried again. While making sure the white robe remained wrapped around the child, he gently pinched one corner of the snowflake, intending to temporarily move it aside for a look. The instant he applied even a little force, before he had truly shifted it, the child's brows immediately furrowed and his little lips began moving uneasily, as though he would erupt again the next second.

Tang Ziran let go at once, as if he had been burned.

"It can't leave his body." He repeated himself, his voice dry. "At least... absolutely not for now."

Lang Yue hugged the child close, her fingers unconsciously stroking the intricate, beautiful embroidered words, "Tang Wulin," along the edge of the white robe. A faint, indescribable warmth flowed into her fingertips. She looked at her husband. "Then... what about the household registration? The people at the town registry will definitely need to see the child. What if..."

Tang Ziran paced twice around the cramped room and rubbed his face. "No one can see the white robe or the snowflake. We need to think of something... Wrap them inside ordinary swaddling cloth, keep them against his skin? But they might unwrap him for inspection during registration..."

"No!" Lang Yue immediately rejected the idea. "You saw what happened just now. He can't even be separated from it for a moment! And that snowflake is obviously no ordinary object. If someone notices it..."

The two fell into a dilemma. The fire gradually burned stronger, its orange glow driving away some of the chill, but not the heaviness in their hearts. During their brief silence, the child drifted back into a deep sleep. His little hand unconsciously clutched one corner of the white robe, his tiny knuckles tightening slightly.

In the end, Tang Ziran made the decision. "Cut the white robe apart. Keep only the small piece pressed against his chest—the part with his name embroidered on it and the snowflake wrapped inside—and sew it into the cotton cloth against his skin. Wrap ordinary swaddling cloth around the outside. As for the rest of the robe... we need to hide it completely. We can't leave even a single loose thread." Determination flashed in his eyes. "When we register him, I'll try to handle it and keep them from unwrapping him. If it comes down to it... we'll say he was born prematurely, that he's weak and can't be exposed to the wind."