Pain

The daylight illuminated the snowy landscape with a silvery glow, while the biting winter wind whistled, gently tugging at people’s eardrums. The small mountain stream had already run dry this season. Ye Mian, holding Jiang Yuan’s hand, followed the narrow path toward the pavilion. Perhaps because they had arrived early enough, there were no other pilgrims at the pavilion.

The pavilion, exposed on the mountainside without the shelter of stone walls, felt the cold wind even more fiercely; it lashed against the girl's face like a cutting blade. Ye Mian sat on a stone bench, the cold air making her head ache, unable to grasp the poetic atmosphere the ancients intended when they built such structures.

Still, the scenery was beautiful. Gazing down from the edge of the pavilion, one could see rolling seas of snow and layers of dense clouds, offering a remarkably vast vista. Jiang Yuan, having never seen snow from such an angle, pointed excitedly at something striking amidst the white: "Mianmian, look! The bamboo grove over there is so beautiful. There are even little flecks of snow hanging from the stalks."

"Keep your voice down," Ye Mian said with a smile, "my ears are aching."

Jiang Yuan, cheeky and unbothered, replied, "It’s truly magical. Everything is so vast and white that any color in the snow stands out."

"It really is beautiful," Ye Mian agreed.

Looking down at the surroundings, the yellow sails and red silk ribbons of the temple appeared exceptionally vibrant in this season. The sounds of the world had vanished. There were no birds, no cicadas, no flowing water; save for the hushed whispers of people, the world was profoundly silent.

Jiang Yuan was in high spirits today, insisting on taking photos, so Ye Mian stayed with her a little longer. While Jiang Yuan was occupied, Ye Mian turned away and inadvertently spotted a wish ribbon lying by a stone. A small iron ring hung from the top of the red ribbon. Ye Mian scanned the area and found its origin on an ancient tree adorned with countless red silk ribbons. She figured the wind must have been strong enough to shake it loose from the branch above.

The sacred yellow characters on it looked striking. Ye Mian picked up the ribbon, holding it carefully in her palm. With no interest in prying into someone else’s wishes, she turned and said to Jiang Yuan, "Yuan-Yuan, I’m going to go check on something over there."

"Okay, be careful."

"I will," Ye Mian replied, treading cautiously through the winter snow toward the old tree. Upon reaching the roots, she saw that the branches were higher than she had imagined; she wouldn't be able to reach them. What to do? Reflexively, she picked up a stick from the ground, draped the wish ribbon over it, and reached up high, tossing the ring upward.

After several attempts, the ribbon finally hung securely back on the branch, fluttering in the wind. Ye Mian smiled happily. The wind caught her skirt, creating a slight resistance, and her long, slightly curled hair became tangled. Just as she turned to leave, her peripheral vision caught another flash of bright red on the snow behind the tree.

Ye Mian sighed, thinking that since she was already here, she might as well finish the good deed. She stepped over the old roots. A tabby cat, hearing the commotion, scurried out from behind the tree. She followed the cat’s startled movement and looked at the red on the ground...

It was a pool of blood!

Drops of blood were splattered around, looking like winter plum blossoms blooming in the snow. Ye Mian froze, her smile stiffening. The bloodstains trailed toward a small shed nearby. The shed was simple but well-constructed, likely built by the compassionate monks of the temple to provide shelter for small animals during the winter.

Unsure if a cat had been injured, she braced herself and ran over, lifting the curtain. A hand, as cold and white as the snow, lay flat against the ground, its knuckles stained a ghastly red. As the wind howled, Ye Mian gasped. She never expected that in such bitter cold, the one injured in the shed would be a person.

Ignoring her fear, Ye Mian hurried inside. The dim shed was not as bright as the outside. A man in thin clothing lay gasping for breath on a wooden board, his body curled tightly, his abdomen soaked in blood.

Ye Mian, panicked, whispered, "Sir? Are you alright? Sir? Are you awake?"

Receiving no response, Ye Mian reached out with her frozen hands to help him. When she saw that remarkably familiar face, she trembled violently. It was an old acquaintance from far across the sea. He, who should have been so powerful, was now more fragile than a cat, huddled in this makeshift shed. Feeling his icy skin, Ye Mian almost thought he was dead. Large patches of blood had frozen on the wooden planks. She had seen him injured many times before, but she never imagined it would be this severe. The biting cold outside ravaged the air.

Ye Mian did not have time to react; her body moved on its own. Without hesitation, she lifted the man and took off her coat, wrapping it tightly around him.

"Don't be afraid, Jiang Chen," Ye Mian said, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't be afraid. I’m here to save you. Just hold on a little longer, I’ll get you out of here."

As she spoke, she reached for her phone to call an ambulance and the police. The man’s hand suddenly lifted, though he lacked the strength to stop her; he simply let his hand rest weakly on her phone. His eyes opened slightly, his pale lips frozen blue, and he managed a faint smile. With a voice as thin as a thread, he whispered, "Ye Mian... don’t... call the police."

He could still smile at a time like this. Ye Mian’s heart ached, and her tears fell uncontrollably. "If I don't call the police, what am I supposed to do?"

Jiang Chen closed his bewitching eyes again, his lips still curled in a forced smile. It was clear he was barely holding on; he couldn't even move, and his voice trembled. "It’s too cold... put your coat back on... you... go back first... I have a way."

No one would believe such a claim. Ye Mian certainly didn't. If he truly had a way, he wouldn't be on the verge of freezing to death. Or rather, even if he did, he would be dead by the time his "way" arrived. It was December—the coldest time of the year. It was no exaggeration; people really could freeze to death.

Ye Mian gritted her teeth and used all her strength to lift him, but due to their size difference, she could not carry the six-foot-tall Jiang Chen. She could only drape his arm over her shoulder, grip it tightly, and, with her back hunched, heave him up to drag him forward bit by bit.

Over a distance of just a few meters, she collapsed into the snow three times. Every time she scrambled up, the terrifying cold seeped from her hair into her very bones. Her eyelashes were coated with snow, and her face felt frozen solid. Yet, she did not give up. While supporting Jiang Chen, she shouted, "Jiang Yuan... Jiang Yuan!"

Jiang Yuan was at the pavilion; it was impossible for her to hear anything from here. Ye Mian lost count of how many times she fell into the snow, only continuing to push forward, fueled by desperation. Her heavy coat remained draped over Jiang Chen, leaving Ye Mian in only a thin winter dress. At that moment, she felt that her body had lost the warmth of blood circulation, replaced only by a cold, numbing pain. Even her breath felt piercingly icy.