Volume One: The Scroll of Fresh Rain Chapter Eight: Serene Joy

She trusted him.

Although she appeared delicate, she was a girl of remarkable inner strength.

Even so, she was also timid at heart.

Mingke noticed her small hands clutching her skirt in fear and smiled, reaching out to gently tousle her messy hair.

Feeling that hand, Qiao Qiao blushed a little, but Mingke didn’t think much of it. He’d always treated Tao Yao this way too; born with the spirit of the gods, he was used to taking care of his friends like an elder brother, even though he was the smallest among them.

“Honestly, it’s nothing. Once my injury heals, I’m like a monkey in the mountains—following the stream, I’ll definitely get you out of here,” he comforted her.

“As for how to heal…” Ye Mingke’s eyes lit up as he spoke, and he even started drooling a bit. Noticing Qiao Qiao’s puzzled gaze, he wiped his mouth awkwardly and grinned foolishly. “All I need is food—meat, lots of meat—and then a long, deep sleep. I’ll be fine soon.”

“Really?” Bai Qiao Qiao’s misty eyes widened.

“Of course.” Ye Mingke kept grinning foolishly, feeling the urge to drool again, and quickly composed himself, sitting up straight.

“But… what are we going to eat?” Qiao Qiao lowered her head, rubbing her stomach, which growled emptily; they hadn’t eaten in a long time.

“What to eat?”

That was a problem.

Ye Mingke began searching his pockets, pulling out a small dagger, some rations, two firestones, then a seasoning kit, and more seasoning packs. Everything was still there, even the rations had been wrapped in multiple layers of waterproof cloth to guard against the rainy town, so after floating in the river, they had only absorbed a little water.

Both of them stared at the few pieces of rations, barely enough for one meal.

Suddenly, nearby, came several squeaks, and a few fat field mice darted through the weeds.

Ye Mingke stared in amazement, drooling again. Qiao Qiao noticed his gaze and suddenly thought of something, her expression changed and she instinctively edged away.

“That’s not a rat.” Ye Mingke noticed Qiao Qiao’s reaction and turned to explain, “Those are field mice.”

Qiao Qiao didn’t reply, quietly moving further away.

“I’m telling you, field mouse tastes way better than rat. Field mice don’t have that musky odor, they’re really delicious.” Mingke’s eyes sparkled.

Qiao Qiao’s face turned pale, and she quietly inched away again.

“Field mice eat leaves and roots, so as long as you clean them, they’re not dirty.” Ye Mingke continued his explanation.

“I’ll just eat the rations,” Qiao Qiao replied, her face taut, weak but resolute.

“One mouse equals three chickens—field mouse is more nutritious than an old hen!”

“I’ll just eat the rations,” Qiao Qiao replied again, her face even more determined.

“Alright then.” Ye Mingke shook his head helplessly, sighing in pity for Qiao Qiao.

As for catching field mice, it wasn’t a problem for Ye Mingke, the wilderness survival expert. A few sticks fashioned into a trigger mechanism, a heavy chunk of fallen wall stone, and a bit of ration made a simple yet effective mouse trap.

Although Qiao Qiao said she’d only eat rations, she couldn’t bear to watch Mingke, injured and feverish, setting up traps, so she followed him and helped for quite a while.

The trap was set.

Even before any mice were caught, Mingke was already instructing Qiao Qiao to boil water to wash the field mice.

“Qiao Qiao, did you find something to hold water?”

Qiao Qiao searched everywhere for a long time and only managed to find a small incense burner from the altar.

“Qiao Qiao, you’re so slow.”

Qiao Qiao prayed in front of the deity, muttering explanations for a long time. Hearing Mingke calling her, she finally picked up the incense burner and responded loudly.

“Coming, coming!”

“Qiao Qiao, make sure to wash the incense burner before filling it with water.”

“Alright.”

“Qiao Qiao, collect rainwater directly from where it leaks, don’t use standing water.”

“Got it.”

“Qiao Qiao…”

“Got it, got it! If you keep shouting, your field mice will be scared off and never get caught!” Qiao Qiao, annoyed by his repeated urging, put her hands on her hips and turned around, fuming.

“Alright.”

But hearing Mingke imitate her soft, impatient voice from not far away, Qiao Qiao couldn’t help but laugh, her anger dissipating instantly.

Laughter echoed; Mingke, frantic and talkative, finally quieted down, and the small temple fell silent.

Apart from the gentle sound of rain falling, there was only the tinkling of raindrops filling the incense burner, sending ripples across the surface.

So quiet, so peaceful.

Qiao Qiao hugged her knees, crouched down to watch the incense burner gradually fill with clear rainwater, feeling her heart grow full, just like the vessel before her. Softly rippling, she felt tranquil and clear.

She watched in silence as the water reached the brim.

Then, the two built a fire, stacked grass, ignited it, and waited quietly for the water to boil. As steam drifted between them, curling like incense smoke, it seemed the abandoned old temple was suddenly filled with a living flame.

Since the trap, which Mingke had boasted would work perfectly, hadn’t caught a single field mouse yet, the first pot of boiling water was split: half for washing Mingke’s wounds, and half for Qiao Qiao to tidy herself up.

When the second pot boiled, a muffled thud echoed through the temple.

Mingke’s eyebrows shot up, and he grinned. “It’s open for business! Prosperity and luck, fortune and success!”

That heavy thud really was the start of his luck; soon, one thud after another sounded in the temple, as one hapless little creature after another fell into the hands of the great demon king.

By nightfall, Mingke was humming cheerfully, tending multiple golden, fragrant, succulent field mice roasting over the fire, pulling out seasoning packs like a magician and adding them to the meat.

Small bottles of vinegar, salt, chili paste, mushroom powder… one after another, making Qiao Qiao wonder if he’d come to a wilderness cookout rather than an entrance exam.

Smelling the waves of delicious aroma, Qiao Qiao swallowed and couldn’t help but ask, “The adults in town always bring rations when they go into the woods, but they never bring all these. Why do you carry so many seasonings?”

“To eat well. I’m determined to be the man at the top of the food chain! Rations are just for show, I never actually eat them. Oh, by the way, the ration in your hand…”

Ye Mingke was closely watching the roasted field mice, checking the doneness, when he finally looked up at Qiao Qiao, who was nibbling her ration like a squirrel. He casually reminded her, “That ration you’re eating—I brought it two months ago and never ate it. Didn’t want to waste it.”

Crunch. The ration in Qiao Qiao’s small hands gave a mournful groan under her grip.

“Oh.” Qiao Qiao lifted her chin with a chilly air, turned away, and stared intently at the grass, nibbling her hard ration in tiny bites.

Even though she was truly hungry, with the tempting aroma wafting over, biting into the rock-hard, wood-flavored ration, Qiao Qiao felt so aggrieved and miserable.

“Qiao Qiao, really don’t want to try the roasted field mouse?”

“It’s tender and fragrant!”

Mingke, like a devil tempting someone to fall, kept persuading.

“I don’t!” Qiao Qiao hugged her tiny ration and protested weakly.

“Roasted field mouse with mushroom powder—first bite is springy, second is juicy, third you’ll want to swallow your tongue along with it!” Mingke held up a perfectly roasted field mouse, spinning it, letting the aroma drift toward Qiao Qiao’s back.

“I won’t eat rats!” As if to encourage herself, Qiao Qiao nodded firmly to herself, whispering softly. But just as she finished speaking, a stick with mouse meat was thrust in front of her, the smell so enticing that she couldn’t help but drool.

“It’s not a rat, it’s a field mouse.” Mingke squatted beside her, snatched away her ration, “Don’t eat rations, they’re not tasty, not healthy, and won’t fill you up.”

“Trust me, this meat is delicious. And look, if you’re afraid of rats, I’ve prepared it so you can’t tell it’s mouse meat!”

Mingke shook the stick, his clear eyes earnestly watching Qiao Qiao.

Qiao Qiao looked at Mingke’s bright eyes, reflecting the shimmering firelight, and then hesitated, glancing at the roasted meat on the stick.

“It really… doesn’t look like the rats I’m afraid of. And it does seem delicious. And he made it himself…” Qiao Qiao thought, raising her right hand uncertainly. Mingke noticed and quickly pushed the stick into her hand, watching her expectantly.

Qiao Qiao lifted the stick, looked into Mingke’s eyes, and cautiously took a tiny bite. Then a small bite, another, a big bite, two big bites, three big bites… After a day of hunger, she quickly devoured all the field mouse meat, licking her lips with lingering satisfaction.

When she looked up at Mingke again, his eyes had curved into two crescent moons.

“My Sword Uncle once said, we’re already subject to so many unchangeable limits in this world, so we shouldn’t easily set more for ourselves. Instead, we should strive to challenge those that seem impossible to change.”

Ye Mingke, sitting back by the fire, spoke cheerfully to Qiao Qiao, who had also returned to the fire, handing her another piece of prepared mouse meat.

“For me, eating is truly the happiest thing in the world.”

Watching Qiao Qiao’s earnest, focused little face as she launched a fierce attack on the meat, Mingke smiled, though his smile suddenly carried a hint of loneliness.

“Sometimes, I really envy people like you who can eat without a care in the world,” he said quietly to the fire.