Mortal Lin Chronicles II

This was the only feasible solution for now. Though Lang Yue hated to cut up that strange, intact white robe, for the child's safety and concealment, she could only nod. She found the softest cotton cloth and a fine needle. By the light of the stove, like a true mother, she carefully cut out the section bearing the words "Tang Wulin" and the protective snowflake, then stitched it into the inside of a small red bellyband, stitch by stitch. Her hands trembled throughout the process, not only because of the fabric's and snowflake's wondrous nature, but also because of the weighty responsibility of guarding this secret.

Once it was sewn, she dressed the child in the bellyband. The icy crystal snowflake rested against his skin through the thin cotton, its glow mostly concealed. Only from extremely close up, at a particular angle, could one glimpse a faint blue-gold shimmer. The three embroidered characters were completely hidden inside. The child seemed somewhat displeased by all the fuss and gave two soft grunts, but perhaps because the crucial "token" still rested tightly against him, he did not truly begin to cry.

Tang Ziran carefully folded the remaining white robe fabric and tucked it into the bottom of a small metal chest that he had once used to store important tools. It had a simple soul-conducting seal lock. He then weighed it down with several heavy ore chunks and shoved the chest deep beneath the bed.

A few days later, at the Cold Pine Town Administrative Registration Office.

Behind the counter sat a tired-looking woman in her forties named Wang Qin. She was one of the few literate people in town capable of handling documents. She pushed up her crystal glasses and looked at the couple standing before her with an infant in their arms.

"Tang Ziran, Lang Yue... Oh, it's you two. I heard you went into the mountains a few days ago?" Wang Qin asked routinely as she flipped through the household registry.

"Yes. We wanted to try our luck in the old forest and see if we could find traces of Snow Marrow Mushroom, but we ran into a blizzard and nearly didn't make it back." Tang Ziran gave an honest, simple smile, his tone carrying lingering fear. That part was the truth. He shifted aside slightly so Wang Qin could see the swaddled child in Lang Yue's arms. "But perhaps it was fate. On the way back, we found this child in a snow hollow. Look at him, poor little thing. His face was blue with cold, and he was crying so hard he was nearly out of breath."

Lang Yue's eyes reddened at the right moment. She hugged the bundle more tightly and turned slightly, as if shielding the child from the wind. In truth, she did not want Wang Qin to look too closely.

Wang Qin leaned forward for a look. The baby was tightly wrapped, with only a tiny, slightly pale face exposed. This was the result of Lang Yue deliberately feeding him less milk and gently applying a cold towel. His eyes were closed, and he indeed looked frailer than an ordinary newborn.

"Ah, these times..." Wang Qin sighed and shook her head, not particularly suspicious. In a border town, abandoned children—and even more tragic things—were uncommon, but not unheard of. "Are you sure he was abandoned? You didn't see any adults nearby?"

"No. There was only a trail of footprints leading deeper into the mountains, and it was quickly covered by snow." Tang Ziran shook his head, his voice heavy. "We waited for a while, but we were afraid the child would freeze to death, so we brought him back. Sister Wang, you know that the two of us... have always wanted a child."

Wang Qin nodded. She knew that. Picking up her pen, she asked, "Did the child have any token on him? Do you know his name?"

"He was wrapped in an old piece of cloth, and there was... a name embroidered on it. Wulin." Tang Ziran followed the story they had prepared. "We thought the child was fated to be with us, so we named him after those embroidered words: Tang Wulin. A qilin child is rare. We hope he'll be blessed in the future."

"Tang Wulin... That's quite a nice name. It was embroidered? Then his birth parents must have cared for him." Wang Qin recorded it in the register. "Since he has been confirmed as an abandoned infant and you are willing to adopt him, the rules require you to submit a written statement of circumstances and find two neighboring residents to vouch for you. Also..." She paused and looked at the child. "I need to examine his physical characteristics and make a record, in case there are any disputes in the future."

Lang Yue's heart leaped into her throat. Tang Ziran's hand at his side tightened slightly, but his face showed only difficulty and pleading. "Sister Wang, it's not that we won't let you see. It's just that... this child may have been badly frozen. He's had a low fever ever since we brought him back, and he's terribly weak. This room isn't exactly warm either. I'm afraid that if we unwrap him and he catches a draft..." He rubbed his hands, appearing anxious and helpless. "How about you just look from a distance? Or perhaps I can... Sigh, I know the rules, but he's just too young..."

Wang Qin looked at the honest-looking couple, then at the infant in Lang Yue's arms, who truly did not seem very lively. She hesitated. Rules were rigid, but people were not. If such a tiny child really fell ill because of an inspection, she would feel terrible about it. Cold Pine Town was not a big place, and there were not so many complications.

"All right, all right." She waved her hand, her tone softening. "Look at how nervous you are. We'll do it this way. I'll write in the characteristics column: 'Healthy, with no notable physical features; requires further observation.' Have you found your guarantors?"

Tang Ziran quickly said, "We have, we have. Uncle Jack from next door, and Old Zhou the blacksmith at the east end of town. We also wrote the statement as you requested." He hurriedly took two fingerprinted sheets of paper from his coat and respectfully handed them over.

Wang Qin accepted them and examined them carefully. She asked a few more questions, which Tang Ziran answered smoothly. The procedure went quickly. A stamp was applied, the registration was completed, and a brand-new household registration certificate made of rough paper was handed to Tang Ziran. Tang Wulin's name was now written on it.

"Raise him well. Meeting you two is a blessing amid his misfortune." Wang Qin offered one final remark.

"Yes! Thank you, Sister Wang! Thank you!" Tang Ziran thanked her repeatedly, while Lang Yue held the child and bowed slightly as well.

When they stepped out of the low stone registration office, cold air poured into their lungs. Only then did Tang Ziran realize that his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Lang Yue's legs had gone weak, and she was almost entirely supported by her husband.

"It's done?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

"It's done." Tang Ziran squeezed her hand hard. "From today onward, Wulin is our son, rightful and proper."

The two hurried home, their steps much lighter than before, though they still carried an almost imperceptible tension. Tang Wulin seemed to sense something. He shifted within the many layers of his swaddling, rubbed his little head against Lang Yue's chest, and let out a tiny, contented purr. Beneath the cloth against his heart, the snowflake stitched into the inner layer and the three divine-patterned embroidered characters beside it gave off an unchanging, protective glow and warmth.

Another half month passed. Under Lang Yue's careful feeding, Tang Wulin's complexion had become rosy, no longer carrying the deliberately created pallor from before. But the ironclad rule that the two items could not leave his body was confirmed once more while Lang Yue was bathing him—she had only temporarily removed the close-fitting bellyband to wipe him down quickly when the child erupted into heart-rending wails. The dark golden markings beneath the skin of his chest surfaced even more clearly than before for an instant, frightening Lang Yue out of her wits. She immediately pressed the bellyband back against him.

This incident made a certain decision in Tang Ziran's heart increasingly clear and urgent.

At dinner, steam from thin porridge curled through the dim halo of the oil lamp. Tang Ziran stirred the spoon in his bowl. After a long while, he spoke in an extremely low voice. "Yue'er, we... can't stay here much longer. The Spirit Pagoda..."

Lang Yue had been gently rocking Wulin in her arms. At his words, she froze completely, and her face paled. Of course she knew what her husband meant. The "peace" they had found in Cold Pine Town involved far more than a forest ranger's wages. The less one knew about certain matters, the better. But once someone was already caught in the middle, getting away was not as simple as handing in a resignation letter.

"What are you planning..." Lang Yue's voice had gone dry as well.

"The branch office should be issuing this month's supplies and wages." Tang Ziran stared solemnly at the flickering flame. "I'll collect them. Once I do, we leave. Leave directly for Eastsea City. Back when I was learning a trade from my master, I got to know two old warehouse hands at the docks there. The flow of goods is huge there, and they need strong, tight-lipped laborers and warehouse guards. It's outside the Spirit Pagoda's system, so they won't be able to trace our original background."

"Leave directly?" Lang Yue hugged the child tighter. "What about the things at home..."

"We only take what we absolutely need: money, dried food, thick clothes, the child's diapers, and a few close-fitting garments." Tang Ziran was decisive. "Everything else, including that chest under the bed, has to be dealt with. We can't leave any traces. 'Visiting your family' or 'going elsewhere to find work' are both reasonable excuses. As long as we leave the area their eyes can reach, in the vast sea of people, who would deliberately watch two insignificant people like us?"

Lang Yue remained silent for a long time. She looked at Wulin, who was sucking on his fingers as he gradually fell asleep in her arms, then at his little face, utterly trusting. At last, she nodded heavily. "I'll listen to you. When?"

"Tomorrow morning, I'll go to the branch office. You pack our things. Be quick, but don't make it look like we're panicking. When I return, we'll leave through the east end of town immediately and catch a ride with Old Li. He's delivering furs to the neighboring town, and he doesn't pry."

The next morning, light snow began drifting down again. Tang Ziran wrapped himself tightly in his old padded coat, put on earmuffs, and headed toward the lonely two-story stone building in the southern part of town, marked with the Spirit Pagoda emblem. There were not many people at the branch office that day. The clerk distributing supplies was a familiar face. He lazily checked Tang Ziran's wooden identification tag, counted out some silver soul coins and copper soul coins from a cabinet, then pointed to a small sack of coarse flour and a piece of frozen meat in the corner. "There. This month's allotment. Sign here."

Tang Ziran smiled honestly and stepped forward to sign. His fingers were steady, but his heart beat rapidly. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed unfamiliar people in the inner room quietly speaking with the local steward. The atmosphere seemed somewhat heavy. He did not dare look any longer. He signed quickly, accepted the money and supplies, thanked the clerk repeatedly, then turned and walked out with steady but unhurried steps.

Only after walking a hundred meters from the stone building and turning a street corner did he feel the indistinct gaze on his back disappear. He did not return home at once. Instead, he used the copper soul coins he had just received to quickly buy two packets of the cheapest milk cake powder and a large roll of oilcloth from the town's general store before heading back.

By the time he arrived home, Lang Yue had packed two small bundles. One held money and dried food, while the other contained the child's things and several changes of clothes for them. The room looked no different from before, but the space beneath the bed was empty.

"We're leaving?" Lang Yue came up to him, her face slightly pale.

"Yes." Tang Ziran set down the things and looked at Wulin sleeping peacefully in a simple cradle. "We leave now. Old Li's cart at the east end should be almost loaded."

They did not alert the neighbors. After locking the door—they slipped the key beneath Old Jack's door and left a note saying they were visiting family and asking him to watch the house—they carried Tang Wulin, wrapped so tightly that only his eyes showed, picked up their bundles, and hurried through the thin snow toward the east end of town.

Old Li was indeed harnessing his cart, which was piled with bundled animal hides. Seeing them, the old man grinned with his gap-toothed mouth. "Oh, Ziran, Lang Yue, taking the child out?"

"Yes, Uncle Li. We're taking the child to visit his grandmother, and we'll also see whether there's any other work to be found." Tang Ziran smiled naturally and helped tuck the two bundles into the gaps between the hides. "Just give us a ride to Pine Needle Town. Same fare as usual."

"Get on, get on. It's no trouble." Old Li waved his hand.

The ox cart slowly set off, its wheels crunching over the snow as it creaked away from Cold Pine Town. Lang Yue held the child tightly and glanced back at the low stone houses gradually blurring into the snowy mist. She could not tell whether she felt relief or confusion. Tang Ziran, meanwhile, held his back straight and fixed his gaze on the winding road ahead, blanketed in snow.

Several days later, after a difficult journey, they arrived in Eastsea City. This coastal city was more than a hundred times larger than Cold Pine Town—noisy, chaotic, and filled with the briny smell and vitality of the sea. Tang Ziran quickly found an old warehouse manager surnamed Wu, whom he had known while apprenticing at the docks years ago. Manager Wu saw that Tang Ziran was strong, honest, and hardworking, while his wife carried a hungry infant, so he arranged for Tang Ziran to work at Dock Warehouse Number Three, handling freight records and standing night watch. Though the work was hard and paid less than before, the important thing was that it lay far from the Spirit Pagoda's gaze. People came and went constantly, and no one cared about their past.

They rented a tiny wooden house with a loft on the edge of the dock district. It was damp and cramped, but they had settled down at last. Lang Yue took on laundry and mending work, while Tang Ziran handled records by day and stood guard at night. Their days were poor and busy, but as they watched Wulin grow day by day, his blue eyes becoming increasingly bright, and occasionally heard him giggle when amused, all their exhaustion seemed worthwhile.

Yet the little red bellyband sewn with the snowflake and the name never left the child's body. Bathing was always done with hurried wiping, and Lang Yue no longer dared try removing it completely. Wulin was also unusually dependent on this "bellyband." Whenever he sensed it being moved, he would twist uneasily, as if the embroidered words and the cold snowflake pressed against it were the armor and comfort he had been born with.

Late at night, when all was quiet, Tang Ziran would sometimes sit by the small loft window, gazing at the black sea in the distance and the faint stars even farther beyond the horizon. He would think of that strange blue-white pillar of light on the snowfield, the unusual white robe, and the glowing snowflake. He did not know what this child had brought with him, but he knew that since he and his wife had chosen this path, they could only grit their teeth, protect him, and struggle to live ordinary lives in this unfamiliar city.

And in an ice cave deep within distant snow-covered mountains, the gravely wounded, sleeping figure seemed, amid endless cold and darkness, to once again catch that faint but ever-tenacious connection of warmth. The direction of that connection had quietly changed, pointing south, toward that noisy, damp sea.