Mortal Wulin Chronicle II

This was the only feasible solution at present. 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 central piece of fabric bearing the words "Tang Wulin" and the guarding snowflake, then stitched it, needle by needle, into the inner lining of a little red bellyband. Her hands trembled throughout the process, not only because of the fabric and snowflake's mysterious nature, but also because of the weighty responsibility of guarding this secret.

Once she finished, she put the bellyband on the child. The icy crystal snowflake rested against his skin through the thin cotton, its light mostly concealed. Only at a particular angle and from extremely close up could one glimpse a hazy blue-gold sheen. The three embroidered characters were completely hidden inside. The child seemed somewhat displeased by all the fuss and gave two little grunts, but perhaps because the crucial "token" was still pressed close to him, he did not truly start crying.

Tang Ziran carefully folded the remaining white robe fabric and stuffed it into the bottom of a small metal chest that he had used years ago to store important tools. The chest had a simple soul-tool sealing lock. He piled several heavy ores over it, then shoved the chest deep beneath the bed.

Several days later, at the Cold Pine Town civil registration office.

Behind the counter sat a tired-looking woman in her forties named Wang Qin. She was one of the few people in town who could read and handle documents. Pushing up the crystal spectacles on her nose, she 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 register.

"Yes. We wanted to try our luck in the old forest and see if we could find any trace of Snow Marrow Mushrooms, but we ran into a blizzard and nearly didn't make it back." Tang Ziran gave an honest smile, his voice carrying lingering fear. That much was true. He shifted slightly so Wang Qin could see the swaddled child in Lang Yue's arms. "But it was fate, too. On the way back, we found this child in a snowdrift. Look at the poor thing—his little face was frozen blue, and he'd cried himself nearly out of breath."

At the right moment, Lang Yue's eyes reddened. She hugged the swaddling clothes closer and turned slightly, as if shielding the child from the wind. In truth, she simply did not want Wang Qin to look too closely.

Wang Qin leaned forward for a glance. The child was tightly wrapped, with only a small, somewhat pale face exposed. This was the effect Lang Yue had deliberately created by feeding him a little less milk and gently applying a cold towel. His eyes were closed, and he truly looked frailer than an ordinary newborn.

"Ah, these times..." Wang Qin sighed and shook her head, without much suspicion. In a border town, abandoned children—or even worse tragedies—were uncommon, but not unheard of. "You're sure he was abandoned? There were no adults around?"

"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 tone 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 with... a name embroidered on it. Wulin." Tang Ziran followed the story they had prepared. "We thought this 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... It's a fine name. It was embroidered? Then his birth parents must have cared about him." Wang Qin recorded the information in the register. "Since he's confirmed to be an abandoned child and you're willing to adopt him, regulations require a written statement of the circumstances and two neighboring residents to stand guarantor. Also..." She paused and looked at the child. "I need to inspect and record his physical characteristics, to prevent any disputes in the future."

Lang Yue's heart instantly clenched. Tang Ziran's hand at his side tightened slightly as well, but his face showed only difficulty and pleading. "Sister Wang, it's not that we won't let you look. It's just... this child may have been badly frozen. He's had a low fever since we brought him back, and his body is terribly weak. This room isn't very warm either. I'm afraid that if we unwrap him, he'll catch the wind again..." He rubbed his hands together, looking anxious and helpless. "How about just looking from a distance? Or perhaps I could... Sigh, I know the rules, but the child is truly too young..."

Wang Qin looked at the honest-looking couple, then at the infant in Lang Yue's arms, who truly did seem listless. She hesitated. Rules were rigid, but people were not. If such a small child really fell ill from an inspection, she would feel terrible about it. Cold Pine Town was no great place, and there were not so many twists and turns here.

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

Tang Ziran hurriedly 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 according to your requirements." He quickly took two papers bearing thumbprints from his clothes and respectfully handed them over.

Wang Qin accepted them and examined them carefully. After asking a few more details, all of which Tang Ziran answered smoothly, the process moved quickly. A stamp, a registration, and then a brand-new household registration certificate made of rough paper was placed in Tang Ziran's hands. Tang Wulin's name was now written on it.

"Raise him well. Meeting you two is a blessing amid his misfortune," Wang Qin said at last.

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

Only after leaving the low stone registration office and drawing the cold air deep into his lungs did Tang Ziran realize that his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Lang Yue's legs had gone weak as well, and she was almost entirely supported by her husband.

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

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

They hurried home. Their steps were much lighter than when they had arrived, though an almost imperceptible tension still lingered in them. Tang Wulin seemed to sense something. He moved within the many layers of swaddling, rubbed his little head against Lang Yue's chest, and let out a satisfied, faint purr. Beneath the cloth against his heart, the snowflake stitched inside and the three divine-script embroidered characters beside it gave off an unwavering, guarding glow and warmth.

Another half month passed. Under Lang Yue's careful feeding, Tang Wulin's complexion became rosy, no longer carrying the deliberate pallor from before. But the iron rule that the two objects could not leave his body was confirmed once again when Lang Yue bathed him. She had only removed the close-fitting piece of bellyband briefly, intending to wipe him down quickly, when the child erupted into heartrending cries. The Dark Gold pattern beneath the skin of his chest surfaced 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 grow clearer and more urgent.

At dinner, steam from thin porridge curled through the dim glow of the oil lamp. Tang Ziran stirred the spoon in his bowl for a long while before speaking in a very low voice. "Yue'er, this place... 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, her face turning pale. Of course she knew what her husband meant. Their apparent peace in Cold Pine Town involved far more than a forest ranger's wages. The less one knew of certain matters, the better. But once they were caught up in them, getting away was not as simple as handing in a resignation.

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

"The supplies and wages from the branch office should be issued this month." Tang Ziran stared at the flickering flame, his gaze dark. "I'll go 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 fellows who managed warehouses at the docks there. Goods flow heavily through that place, and they need strong, tight-lipped porters and warehouse guards. It's outside the Spirit Pagoda's system, so they won't be able to trace our old background."

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

"We'll only take what we absolutely need—money, dried food, thick clothes, the child's diapers, and a few items for close use." Tang Ziran spoke decisively. "Everything else, including that chest beneath the bed, has to be dealt with. We can't leave traces. 'Visiting your family,' or 'going elsewhere to find work'—either is a believable reason. As long as we leave the area within their sight, the world is vast. Who would deliberately keep an eye on two insignificant people like us?"

Lang Yue was 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, filled with absolute trust. Finally, she nodded heavily. "I'll listen to you. When?"

"I'll go to the branch office tomorrow morning. You pack our things. Be quick, but don't let it look like we're panicking. When I come back, we'll leave immediately from the east end of town and catch a ride with Old Li as he delivers furs to the neighboring town. He doesn't pry."

The next morning, sparse flakes of snow began falling again. Tang Ziran wrapped himself tightly in his old padded coat, put on ear coverings, and headed toward the lonely two-story stone building in the south 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 identity plaque, counted out several 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 share. Sign here."

Tang Ziran smiled honestly and leaned over to sign. His fingers were steady, but his heart was beating quickly. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of strangers in the inner room speaking quietly with the local steward. The atmosphere seemed tense. He did not dare look further. He signed quickly, accepted the money and supplies, thanked them repeatedly, then turned and left at a steady but unhurried pace.

Only after he had walked a hundred meters from the stone building and turned a street corner did he feel the vague 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 got home, Lang Yue had packed two small bundles. One held money and dried food; the other contained items for the child and several changes of clothes for them. The room looked no different, but the space under the bed was empty.

"Are we leaving?" Lang Yue came forward, her face somewhat pale.

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

They did not alert the neighbors. After locking the door, Tang Ziran slipped the key beneath Old Jack's door and left a note saying they were going away to visit family and asking him to watch the house. Then, carrying Tang Wulin wrapped tightly enough that only his eyes showed, they took their bundles and hurried across the thin snow toward the east end of town.

Old Li was indeed harnessing his cart, already piled with bundles of animal hides. Seeing them, the old man grinned with his toothless mouth. "Oh, Ziran, Lang Yue, taking the child out?"

"Yes, Uncle Li. We're taking the child to visit his grandmother, and we'll see if there's any other work to be found along the way." 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 a hand.

The ox cart slowly started forward, crushing the snow beneath its wheels as it creaked away from Cold Pine Town. Lang Yue held the child tightly and looked back at the low stone houses gradually fading into the snowy mist. She could not tell whether she felt relief or emptiness. Tang Ziran, however, straightened his back and fixed his eyes on the winding, snow-covered road ahead.

Several days later, after much travel, 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 smell of the sea and vibrant life. Tang Ziran quickly found an elderly 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. He arranged for Tang Ziran to work at Warehouse No. 3 as a cargo registrar and night guard. The work was grueling and paid less than before, but most importantly, it was far from the Spirit Pagoda's eyes. People came and went constantly here, 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 at least settled down. Lang Yue took on laundry and mending work. Tang Ziran registered cargo by day and stood guard at night. Their life was poor and busy, but as they watched Wulin grow day by day, his blue eyes becoming brighter and more spirited, and as he occasionally let out delighted giggles when teased, every bit of exhaustion seemed worthwhile.

Yet the little red bellyband stitched with the snowflake and his name never left the child's body. During baths, he was only wiped down hurriedly, and Lang Yue no longer dared try removing it completely. Wulin was unusually dependent on this "bellyband." Whenever he sensed it being moved, he would twist uneasily, as though the embroidered words and cold snowflake against it were the armor and comfort he had been born with.

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

And in some ice cave deep within the distant snow mountains, the severely injured, sleeping person seemed to catch that faint yet ever-resilient thread of warm connection once again amid endless cold and darkness. The direction of that connection had quietly changed, pointing southward, toward that noisy, humid sea.