Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 34: Chapter 11: "Wang Wang Breakfast Sausage" (Part 2)

"Yeah, most of them say so-and-so wants to be with so-and-so forever. It’s a little boring."

Lu Qinglian nodded along, her expression remaining blank even in agreement.

Zhang Shutong gave her a strange look. "You actually read people’s wishing plaques?"

But her expression remained unchanged. "I’m the Temple Priestess."

She didn’t blush or flinch, and her gaze never wavered.

’Wow, you’re something else,’ Zhang Shutong thought.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was, he remembered Du Kang had hung a wishing plaque at the temple. The mere thought made Zhang Shutong feel embarrassed for his friend.

After a moment, he asked another question.

"What’s the temple like inside?"

"One main hall and three side halls."

"And what are they like?"

"Nothing special to look at. There are no lights, so it’s very dark."

"Oh."

Their way of communicating was certainly odd. Both stared at the surface of the water ahead—Zhang Shutong watched the ripples, while Lu Qinglian watched the fish beneath them.

One would casually ask a question whenever it came to mind, and the exchange was mostly a back-and-forth of simple queries and direct answers. Sometimes their words barely formed a sentence, just a few scattered terms, but they understood each other perfectly. At other times, the conversation would just trail off, both of them completely unconcerned.

Yet Zhang Shutong didn’t find it awkward at all.

"So, the god your temple worships... I mean, enshrines—which one is it?"

He still had no idea, not even whether the temple was Daoist or Buddhist. But one look at Lu Qinglian’s long, silky hair made him guess it wasn’t the latter.

"The God of Wealth? Guan Gong? Or some other deity?"

He realized how impolite the question was as soon as it left his mouth. She was a Temple Priestess, after all. The position might not be a grand one, but asking a priestess what god her own temple was dedicated to was a major faux pas.

Lu Qinglian, however, was completely unfazed.

"None of those. A Cyan Snake."

Zhang Shutong froze.

"Uh, a C-Cyan... Snake?" He knew the temple was called the Cyan Snake Temple, but just as the White Horse Temple didn’t actually have a horse enshrined in its main hall, he’d assumed the name just had to do with its history.

But Lu Qinglian just nodded calmly.

"The very animal you’re thinking of. A large, cyan-colored snake. It’s a statue, though."

"Are you really the Temple Priestess?"

Zhang Shutong was genuinely surprised now. ’How can this Temple Priestess be even more casual about it than an outsider like me?’ he thought. He knew for a fact that he would never dare refer to a god his own family worshipped as "that animal."

This time, it was Lu Qinglian who gave him a strange look. "Didn’t I mention it before?"

"Well, yes, but I figured it would be the Cyan Snake God or something like that."

"I’m outside the temple right now," she said casually.

...She really did see herself as just an employee.

"You can go have a look if you’re curious," Lu Qinglian added.

’Better not,’ Zhang Shutong thought. That place—and even the mountain it was on—had been firmly added to his "places I will never visit again" list. Even though he’d gained that strange ability after falling off the mountain, and it might not have anything to do with the mountain or the temple, when something like a "rewind" happens to you, it’s hard not to become a little superstitious.

Still, this was a good opportunity to ask Lu Qinglian a few things.

"So what is ’your’ god in charge of?" Since Lu Qinglian herself was so nonchalant, he figured he could be casual too.

"Correction: not ’my’ god," she said, frowning slightly. "Birth, old age, sickness, and death. Marriage and childbirth. Anything you’d find in an almanac, the god handles it."

"Is it responsive?"

"Even when I’m outside the temple, that’s a question I can’t answer."

’Fair enough. You’re pretty dedicated to your job.’

"One last question. Are there any legends about the mountain behind the temple? Or was something buried there?"

"Nothing about the area behind the temple, but I do know one legend about the mountain as a whole." Lu Qinglian paused, her voice still just as faint as before. "Legend has it that long, long ago..." There was an indescribable and yet practiced quality to her delivery that felt completely out of place.

Zhang Shutong’s eyelid twitched.

"Hold on, is playing tour guide also part of the Temple Priestess’s job description?"

"Sometimes. Now, do you want to hear it or not?"

Zhang Shutong gestured for her to continue.

He listened for a long time, mentally filtering out the flowery, atmospheric language until he was left with a run-of-the-mill myth.

It was basically the origin story of the temple’s Cyan Snake: why the mountain was called Cyan Snake Mountain, how the Cyan Snake Temple came to be, how the snake protected the island... the kind of local legend you could find anywhere. In any case, the snake was apparently a total badass. Lu Qinglian told the story with such earnestness that Zhang Shutong didn’t have the heart to interrupt.

Having said all he wanted to say, he lapsed into his usual silence. But just then, Lu Qinglian asked if he and his friends had gone fishing the day before. "How did you know?" Zhang Shutong asked.

The girl told him not to worry about how she knew; she just did. She not only knew they had come fishing, but also that he’d been "skunked" because he lent her his gloves. Of course, the word "skunked" was Zhang Shutong’s own interpretation of her meaning.

It seemed the Temple Priestess really did have a few tricks up her sleeve.

Puzzled, Zhang Shutong asked, "So what’s your point?"

Lu Qinglian explained, "Since you didn’t catch a single fish yesterday, I figured I’d come help you catch a few today as compensation. This is the ’important thing’ I mentioned after school. What do you think?" With that, she gave her rod another jaunty cast.

"...That’s not the version of the story you told me a minute ago."

"You can think of it that way for the time being."

Zhang Shutong wanted to ask just how long "for the time being" was supposed to last, but then he saw Lu Qinglian point to her bucket. Inside, five large fish were swimming merrily. "Is this enough?" she asked. "If not, I’ll catch more."

Zhang Shutong pouted. "Fine, you fish then. I’d like to see just how many you can catch today." But the words had barely left his lips when the bobber dipped again.

This time, when Lu Qinglian tried to lift her rod, it wouldn’t budge. It seemed whatever was on the hook was much bigger than the others. The rod was bent into a sharp arc, and the water thrashed and churned. The commotion was so loud it drew the attention of everyone else nearby.