This novel is translated and hosted only on BCaTranslation
Boom————
The capital’s airport: an Airbus roared into the sky, leaving behind the bustling international metropolis, heading south towards the picturesque Shandong Province.
It was now April 2024.
The weather was gradually warming up, and people had shifted their focus from the festive joy of the New Year back to their everyday lives and work.
At this time, it was three days before the Qingming Festival holiday, so the travel rush had not yet begun. Students were in school, workers were busy at their jobs, and the plane was quite empty. The first-class cabin was less than a quarter full, with only a few scattered passengers.
In the semi-enclosed seat next to him, Gao Yang pulled down his eye mask, ready to sleep.
“Lin Xian, call me when it’s time for meals. Grab two portions for me,” he mumbled.
With that, he leaned back. Three seconds later, his snores could be heard. Gao Yang had a knack for falling asleep quickly, his mind as blank as his carefree demeanor.
Lin Xian turned his head, watching the clouds drift downwards and the ground become more distant. Lately, he felt like he was always on the move—running here and there, flying all over, never having a moment to rest. He suddenly envied his previously carefree life: a simple routine of work and relaxation, no pressure, and a rather enjoyable existence.
In just a year and a half, his life had undergone a complete transformation. But he didn’t regret it. The various events that had taken place made him gradually aware of his sense of responsibility. This was something he had never considered before.
At work, Zhao Ying Jun guided him, managing and planning everything. In his personal life, VV handled 99% of things; all he had to do was give instructions, and VV would complete them. Even in exploring the Genius Club and the dreams, Yellow Finch provided guidance. The Universal Constants, which he was nominally concerned with, were actually managed by Liu Feng. Although Gao Yang couldn’t offer much practical help, he never failed at critical moments. And Chu An Qing... She wasn’t as naive as he thought. She knew many things but kept them to herself, helping him catch space-time particles and, in her final moments, jumping off the plane, leaving him a crucial note.
It seemed he had never truly, practically done anything.
As he had once told Yellow Finch: his friends were too indulgent with him. They believed in him and helped him so much that he never truly grew.
Now, he had lost many things, learned many lessons, and felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He recalled that night on the overpass, Zhao Ying Jun looking back at him under the moonlight: “You must do what you love, what you’re willing to stick with, something you’re willing to bet your life on, not to prove anything to others, but because you genuinely want to.”
In the past, he had only been good at saying pretty words. But now, it was different. At this moment, he was genuinely willing, and he had found something he wanted to bet his life on. So many people had sacrificed for this unknown and mysterious battle. If he continued to hesitate and worry, fearing for his life, he would be unworthy of being called a man!
“I will find the answers myself,” he remembered telling Yellow Finch.
From now on, he would use his own eyes and judgment to define everything. And then, with his hands and will...
“Change everything!”
...
Moreover, in X Country’s tradition, burying too high wasn’t considered auspicious or might be taboo, though Lin Xian wasn’t sure about the specifics. But intuitively, the burial spot wouldn’t be too high. And the mountain’s geology was mostly rocky, unsuitable for digging. The foot of the mountain, with softer soil, was more appropriate for burial.
Considering all this, the western region of Nine Immortals Mountain, without peaks, mostly forested and flat, with a blend of water, flowers, and grass, was indeed a good spot. Though muddy and without roads, making it inaccessible by machinery or vehicles, this would align with Zhang Yu Qian’s parents’ wishes. A quiet, remote, undisturbed place would be their preference for their daughter’s final resting place.
As for carrying the coffin, money could move mountains, and Zhang Shi was wealthy. Problems solvable with money weren’t problems for him. Of course, the most noticeable landmark was the pomegranate tree planted by Yan Qin on Zhang Yu Qian’s grave. A pomegranate tree’s growth period was typically six to eight years, then it would bear fruit for decades.
Calculating from Zhang Yu Qian’s death, the pomegranate tree would be 24 years old now. After all these years of unchecked growth, it must have grown large and lush by now.
So, the key was to find the pomegranate tree!
...
Slash, slash. Lin Xian and Gao Yang pushed through the wild forest, their clothes torn by unknown plants, their arms scratched and itchy. Surviving in the wild wasn’t easy, and they were almost in such a situation now.
“Harder to find than I thought,” Gao Yang complained. “I checked online. This mountain covers only 2.45 square kilometers. I thought it wasn’t that big, just over a kilometer wide. But in reality, it’s huge!”
“2.45 square kilometers is quite large,” Lin Xian replied, pushing aside a branch, glancing around before looking back. “And mountains are three-dimensional, much larger than flat land. Finding a pomegranate tree in this forest is almost like finding a needle in a haystack. More like finding a steel bar in the ocean, not quite a needle.”
“Besides, Zhang Yu Qian’s father, Zhang Shi, seemed nervous and wary of us. He would have chosen an inconspicuous, hard-to-find burial spot, only known to them, to keep it hidden and cover his ‘guilt.’”
“Do you think he felt guilty about not cremating her and secretly burying her?” Gao Yang wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “Even if that’s true, it’s been over twenty years. What could they do now? They can’t put together a skeleton and cremate it again... I don’t get what that uncle is hiding.”
“Guessing won’t help. Whatever we guess, we need to open the coffin to find the truth. Let’s go, check over there.”
Lin Xian led Gao Yang deeper into the forest. As a child, Lin Xian’s uncle had a pomegranate tree in his yard. When it started bearing small fruits, Lin Xian would check it daily after school to see if they were ripe and ready to eat.
So, he was familiar with the growth cycle of pomegranate trees. Generally, they flowered in spring, bore fruit soon after, and ripened in the fall. So now, the pomegranate tree planted on Zhang Yu Qian’s grave would be flowering. Bright red pomegranate flowers in this wilderness should be very conspicuous, easy to spot from a distance, being so vibrant.
As they moved deeper into the forest, the ground became wetter and softer. It was the result of years of fallen leaves, dead grass, dry branches, rainwater, and accumulated dust, along with the passage of time. Stepping on it, one could feel the marks of time, the silence of history, and the stillness of time.
“No birds in a thousand hills, no footprints in ten thousand paths.” Lin Xian suddenly thought of this poem, perfectly fitting the moment. It seemed they were walking on a river of history, and the sunlight filtering through the leaves above was like the barrier between life and death, which they were crossing.
“Lin Xian! Look!!” Ahead, Gao Yang suddenly shouted, laughing, pulling Lin Xian over, pointing down the slope. “Look! Over there! On that grassy field!”
Lin Xian quickly moved closer. Following Gao Yang’s finger, he looked down. A wild, untended green grassy field, like a carpet in this isolated paradise. And in the middle of this timeless field stood a tree that didn’t belong there—a pomegranate tree!
Its leaves were lush. Its flowers... bright red, swaying against the breeze.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation