Atypical Blood Clan Contract - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Rural Village

After dinner, the brothers went to their parents’ room to watch TV. By 8:30 PM, Wang Chunlan shooed them off to bed. Qin Lin returned to his own room, while Qin Xiaoyou stood hesitantly outside his brother’s door.

Ever since that day, he had been sleeping with his brother. However, his terrible sleeping habits—kicking his brother out of bed several nights in a row—had earned him a cold, disapproving glare and a perpetually stern expression from Qin Lin.

Sighing, Qin Xiaoyou turned and headed for the attic.

After all, he thought, I’m a little man now. I need to learn to be independent and self-reliant.

Qin Lin, who was tidying his bed, heard his brother’s footsteps on the stairs. He glanced at the doorway and waited for a few minutes, but when Xiaoyou didn’t return, he expressionlessly removed the extra pillow from the bed and stuffed it into the closet.

Qin Xiaoyou cautiously entered the attic bedroom, switching on the light. The window by the bed was half-open, letting in a chilly night breeze that made him shiver. He quickly closed and locked the window, drew the curtains, stripped off his outer clothes, and nimbly climbed into bed. He burrowed under the covers, wrapping himself into a cocoon-like bundle, and stretched out his hand to awkwardly switch off the bedside lamp.

The room plunged into darkness.

He huddled under the covers, only his eyes visible, staring fearfully into the blackness.

Sleep, sleep. It’s okay. He’s a brave man. He can sleep alone just fine.

He repeated this mantra in his mind, over and over. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly closed his eyes. Yet, inexplicably, his hearing seemed to sharpen.

Despite the closed window and drawn curtains, sounds from outside pierced through with startling clarity.

The delicate chirping of insects, the muffled television from next door, and… faint footsteps.

His eyes snapped open.

The footsteps were close, as if someone were walking on his balcony.

Qin Xiaoyou bolted out of bed, his hand slapping the light switch. The attic instantly flooded with light.

Holding his breath, he stared intently at the window. He crept out of bed, crouched low, and moved stealthily to the window. Swallowing hard, he cautiously pulled back a corner of the curtain and peered nervously outside.

The night was pitch-black, nothing visible beyond the glass.

A chill crept up from his feet. Qin Xiaoyou shivered, feeling paranoid. He checked the window lock repeatedly before finally letting the curtain fall and climbing back into bed.

This time, he dared not turn off the lights. He pulled the blanket over his head, burying himself completely under the covers, hugging himself tightly and curling into a ball. Cold sweat streamed down his back.

“I’m not scared, I’m not scared, I’m not scared…” he repeated to himself, trying to hypnotize himself.

After what felt like an eternity, perhaps due to exhaustion, his consciousness gradually faded, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

In his dream, he was relentlessly pursued by all manner of malevolent spirits, terrified beyond measure. He dodged and hid, but no matter how he tried to escape, the monstrous figures relentlessly hunted him down, chasing him from the village to the school, from the school to the fields, and from the fields to the riverbank.

Just when he thought he was cornered, someone called out to him.

“Xiaoyou, over here.”

It was Mr. Li!

Qin Xiaoyou whipped his head around at the sound of the man’s elegant, deep voice, his heart leaping with joy. On the wooden bridge stood a tall, slender figure, golden hair shimmering in the wind, reaching his waist.

At that moment, Mr. Li shone like the rising sun, instantly banishing the darkness.

Fear receded like a receding tide. Qin Xiaoyou sprinted onto the wooden bridge and grasped Mr. Li’s outstretched hand.

After that, the dream was filled with light, and there were no more ghosts.

The next morning, Qin Xiaoyou was woken up by Wang Chunlan. Still drowsy, he struggled to open his eyes and burrowed deeper under the covers, refusing to move.

He had been too afraid to sleep at first, and when he finally drifted off, he was plagued by nightmares all night long. Though he couldn’t remember them upon waking, he was severely sleep-deprived.

“Get up now! The ritual is about to start,” Wang Chunlan said, mercilessly yanking the covers off him and swatting his bottom. “Your brother’s already at school. Why are you still sleeping in?”

Qin Xiaoyou jolted awake, his panda-like dark circles glaring as he dragged himself out of bed.

Wang Chunlan yanked open the curtains with a whoosh and pushed open the window, grumbling, “It’s getting hot. Why haven’t you opened the window for some fresh air?”

Morning light streamed through the window, illuminating the entire attic.

Qin Xiaoyou raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare. After a moment, once his eyes had adjusted, he glanced casually out the window and was startled to see a faint footprint on the windowsill.

“Mom, did you go out to the balcony to hang laundry yesterday?” Qin Xiaoyou asked, puzzled.

“No,” Wang Chunlan replied, equally confused. “Stop dawdling and get downstairs now!”

“Oh.”

—

The ritual was in full swing, with firecrackers popping incessantly and gongs and drums clanging. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a wedding celebration!

Qin Xiaoyou knelt before the statue of the Lord of the Three Teachings for over an hour, guided by Wang Chunlan. His legs grew numb, and he finally couldn’t bear it any longer, making a hasty excuse to escape to the roadside public restroom.

Emerging from the restroom, he glanced toward the crowd gathering and decisively abandoned any thought of returning.

Judging by the sun, it wasn’t yet noon, but his stomach was already growling fiercely.

Qin Xiaoyou raced home and rummaged through the kitchen, finding only half a stale piece of bread. After a couple of bites, he couldn’t stomach it and tossed it back into the bowl. He then climbed to the attic, dragged a small box from under the bed, and retrieved his piggy bank. He pried open the rubber stopper at the bottom, shook out three coins, and prepared to buy snacks at the village store.

Stretching lazily, he was about to leave when his gaze drifted to the windowsill. The footprints were gone, replaced by a bedsheet drying on the ledge.

Qin Xiaoyou shrugged, suspecting he hadn’t fully woken up that morning and had imagined the footprints.

After sneaking out before his parents returned, he sprinted to the village store and bought a lollipop and a box of mung bean cakes.

He devoured the mung bean cakes greedily, patting his satisfied belly. With the lollipop in his mouth, he avoided the crowd and mustered the courage to walk toward the riverbank.

Ever since the floating corpse incident, the village adults had forbidden children from playing by the river. Wang Chunlan, in particular, had sternly warned Qin Xiaoyou against crossing the river to visit Mr. Li.

Yet his longing to see Mr. Li burned fiercely within him.

Qin Xiaoyou set off down the narrow path between the rice paddies.

The fields stretched out in a lush green expanse, newly planted rice seedlings thriving with vitality. The river channel flowed clear and clean, devoid of any trace of water hyacinth.

Three days earlier, the Village Cadre had organized the villagers to clear the river of all water hyacinth by boat.

Now, the river channel was pristine, free of weeds, its waters sparkling with crystalline clarity. A flock of ducks, herded by the duck farmer, waddled into the water with loud quacking.

Qin Xiaoyou dared not linger by the river and hurried toward the wooden bridge.

The duck farmer, who had been resting his long bamboo pole on the riverbank, turned to watch Qin Xiaoyou cross the bridge and dash toward the opposite shore.

Ignoring the strange gaze behind him, Qin Xiaoyou ran all the way to Mr. Li’s villa.

The roses in the villa’s courtyard bloomed in vibrant splendor. Qin Xiaoyou kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he followed the cobblestone path to the front door. Just as he was about to ring the bell, he noticed the door was ajar.

Hesitantly, he pushed it open and peeked into the living room. He found Mr. Li sitting on the sofa, with Butler Luo standing before him, speaking in a grave tone.

Qin Xiaoyou listened, utterly bewildered.

Butler Luo was speaking in neither Chongxia nor Xiluo, but in a completely unfamiliar language. Qin Xiaoyou couldn’t understand a word. He stared at them, unsure whether to greet them.

Mr. Li raised a hand, and Butler Luo immediately stopped speaking, turning to look at the hesitant Qin Xiaoyou with a gentle smile.

“Good day, Young Master Xiaoyou,” he said in perfect Chongxia Language.

Qin Xiaoyou scratched his head, feeling awkward. “Am I… am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Li replied with a smile. “Xiaoyou hasn’t visited in days.”

Qin Xiaoyou walked over to the sofa, found an empty seat, and sat down, nodding. “Something terrible happened in the village. Mom wouldn’t let me come.”

“What happened?” Mr. Li asked with concern.

Meeting Mr. Li’s deep blue eyes, Qin Xiaoyou said somberly, “Sister Ah Lan is dead.”

“Sister Ah Lan?” Mr. Li asked, puzzled, clearly not recognizing the name.

“You don’t know Sister Ah Lan, Mr. Li?” Qin Xiaoyou blinked his large eyes. Remembering that Mr. Li rarely left the villa grounds, it wasn’t surprising he wouldn’t know her.

“Is she the round-faced girl who always smiled?” Butler Luo asked.

“Butler Luo knows Sister Ah Lan?” Qin Xiaoyou exclaimed in surprise.

Butler Luo nodded. “I’ve seen her when I went to the village for supplies.”

Although they lived across the river, far from the village, they occasionally needed to buy daily necessities. The villagers might not recognize Mr. Li, but they certainly knew Butler Luo.

“If I remember correctly, she just turned twenty this year. She was so young… How could she have died?” Butler Luo asked, puzzled.

Qin Xiaoyou shook his head. “I don’t know…”

He recounted in detail how he had discovered Sister Ah Lan’s body that day. He had thought he would forget, but even after several days, the memory remained vivid. He even remembered what she had been wearing:

A pink, lace-trimmed dress.

Whenever Ah Lan went to town, she would change out of her old clothes and put on a fashionable dress, dressing up beautifully.

When Mr. Li learned that he had dragged the floating corpse from beneath the water hyacinth, his blue eyes filled with concern.

“The police said it was suicide, but no one believes Sister Ah Lan would kill herself,” Qin Xiaoyou said, his face pale with fear. He instinctively moved closer to Mr. Li and lowered his voice. “Uncle in the village said Sister Ah Lan was haunted by a ghost. That’s why half the blood was drained from her body.”

“A ghost?” Mr. Li exchanged a glance with Butler Luo and reached out to ruffle Qin Xiaoyou’s hair. “There are no such things as ghosts.”

Qin Xiaoyou bit his lip, gazing helplessly at Mr. Li. “If there are no ghosts in the world, why did Sister Ah Lan die?”

Sensing the child’s fear, Mr. Li pulled him into his arms, gently reassuring him, “Don’t be afraid.”

Pressed against Mr. Li’s broad chest, Qin Xiaoyou, drawing on some unknown courage, buried his face into the fabric, his small hands clutching at Mr. Li’s lapels. His words tumbled out in a jumble: “Why… why do people die? When you die, everything is gone. You don’t know anything about the world anymore… Death… it’s so terrifying!”

The child trembled like a frightened animal in his arms, both pitiful and endearing. Mr. Li gently stroked his thin back, whispering softly, “Everyone dies.”

The boy lifted a despairing face. Mr. Li sighed softly, lightly tapping his fingertip between the child’s eyebrows as he explained, “Death is determined at birth. It’s the soul’s redemption. Don’t fear death. Sometimes, living requires even more courage. Life and death are like the seasons, cycling endlessly. Once you understand this, you won’t be afraid anymore.”

Qin Xiaoyou was still just a child, unable to grasp such profound concepts. All he knew was that when people died, everything vanished. In time, people would forget that a vibrant, living person had ever existed.

“I’m afraid of dying,” he whispered, his small face pale.

Mr. Li gently stroked Xiaoyou’s head, his pale blue eyes half-closed.

“Even if humans were immortal, living forever until the end of the world, they would still feel fear.”

A hint of seduction crept into his voice, leaving Qin Xiaoyou dazed. His mind felt like a lump of paste, incapable of thought.

“How could immortality bring fear?” he murmured.

—

The new teacher at Wanhong Primary School brought a wave of blessings to the village.

The villagers speculated that Teacher Huo Yuan must be a young master from a wealthy family. How else could he have personally funded the purchase of such a vast array of sports equipment for the school?

This included soccer balls, badminton rackets, volleyballs, ping-pong paddles, basketballs, and more. He even commissioned two sets of custom-made tracksuits for each student.

Though called tracksuits, these were essentially school uniforms. The words “Wanhong Primary School” were embroidered on the left chest of each jacket, greatly enhancing Principal Wang’s prestige.

The sheer cost of these acquisitions left the villagers worried about Teacher Huo’s finances.

However, according to Teacher Huo himself, he had a university classmate in the city who ran a successful company. Upon learning of his decision to teach in the rural area, the classmate generously offered financial support. Moreover, they planned to establish the “Flower Charity Foundation” in the second half of the year, with the goal of building a new campus for Wanhong Primary School.

The students didn’t fully grasp what the “Flower Charity Foundation” was, but they knew the school was becoming better equipped and more enjoyable. Attending classes was no longer dull. As soon as the bell rang, they would rush to the sports equipment room to borrow balls and play enthusiastically on the small playground.

“Teacher Huo, thanks to you, the school finally has funding,” Principal Wang said, standing before the handsome Huo Yuan, her smile as delicate as a shy flower. Unfortunately, the wrinkles around her eyes betrayed her age.

“Principal Wang, you flatter me,” Huo Yuan said with a modest smile. “It was just a small effort. Children are the flowers of our nation, and nurturing the next generation is the sacred duty of every Chongxia citizen.”

“To be honest, I approached town officials several years ago to report the school’s difficulties, but received no response. Later, I used my connections to seek help from city-level units and organizations. They made grand promises to my face, but nothing ever came of it,” Principal Wang said, shaking her head with a sigh.

“The government’s policies have improved now, and the nation is prioritizing rural development,” Huo Yuan said.

Principal Wang’s face lit up with relief. “Regardless, we owe you our deepest gratitude. How about… after the flag-raising ceremony on Monday, we hold an awards ceremony in your honor?”

“No, no!” Huo Yuan waved his hands dismissively. “It was just a small contribution, nothing worth mentioning.”

“Teacher Huo is too modest,” the female principal said, her eyes crinkling into narrow slits with a smile.

Huo Yuan cleared his throat, changing the subject. “I heard there was an incident in the village recently?”

Principal Wang’s smile vanished. She glanced around before leaning closer to Huo Yuan and whispering, “During the busy farming season, a water ghost appeared in the river and dragged a young village girl down. Poor thing…”

Water ghost?

Huo Yuan’s expression turned serious. “Principal Wang, we’re both educated people. This talk of water ghosts is unscientific.”

“Heh heh…” The principal chuckled awkwardly. “Yes, yes, it’s not scientific! It’s just what the villagers say, so I mentioned it in passing.”

“I heard some children discovered the body first?” Huo Yuan frowned, his voice tinged with concern. “Facing death at such a young age could harm their mental and emotional well-being. I’d like to talk to them and offer some guidance.”

“Teacher Huo, you’re trained in psychological counseling?” The principal looked genuinely surprised.

“I took psychology as an elective in university,” Huo Yuan explained.

“Ah, I see!” The principal pointed excitedly toward the playground outside the window. “Those are the children playing soccer over there.”

Huo Yuan followed her gaze and immediately spotted Qin Xiaoyou.

The boy’s brand-new blue and white tracksuit made him look particularly energetic. He stretched his legs repeatedly, hooking and dodging through the crowd of ten or so classmates to snatch the ball. After securing it, he let out an excited shout and sprinted toward the goal, leaving the other students far behind.

Does this look like a child with psychological issues?

Huo Yuan stroked his smooth chin thoughtfully.

Author’s Note:

Xiaoyou: Sniffle… Mr. Li’s embrace feels a bit cold?

Mr. Li: My body temperature naturally runs low.

Xiaoyou: Oh~