[ON HOLD] Shadows of the Blessed | #Countryhumans AUOriginals

03: Treachery Over the Steppes [Pt. 2]

Previously...

She had other plans.

——————

Fujian led them along the white-shored riverbanks. The four wove in and out of grass thickets in an effort to stay hidden, all senses on edge for unsuspecting snakes— and whatever other agent of death may have been lurking nearby, awaiting the slightest misstep.

China heard the fwoop of wings overhead; she took a wary glimpse, only to find a crane soaring away. She dismissed her own troubling thoughts and trudged on.

A small, rickety dock eventually came into view. Well weathered and trodden over the time it had been there, the little dock's corroding wood could've seen better days.

A small fishing vessel was already there. It floated up and down on the surface of the undulating river water, secured in place by a thick knotted rope. The dock groaned and creaked as two fishermen stamped over it, hauling wooden crates of fish and various shellfish from the vessel to a donkey-drawn cart. A pungent scent filled the area.

Merchants, China thought. These people were known to only be one of two things: their worst enemies, or unmatched partners.

"同志!" Fujian hollered, a cupped hand held up to the side of her mouth. The apparent elder of the fishermen straightened from stooping, looked up, and waved in acknowledgment.
(Comrade!)

Fujian stepped closer while the rest stayed some distance behind; China observed as Fujian thrust a handful of gold and jewelry into the merchant's hands. "Take it or leave it," the woman put simply. "We need a ride downstream."

The merchant nodded in earnest. He mouthed something to his partner, who began soundlessly leading the donkey and its cart away; the elder merchant then ushered for the four to get into his boat.

"走吧," he said without further ado.
(Let's go.)

And before China knew it, the rolling hills behind them— the famished village, the worries, her disturbed thoughts, and everything else— had disappeared over the horizon.

——————

Cicadas here and there commenced their daily repertoires, signaling the arrival of dusk.

Upon Fujian's directions, the fish merchant dropped them near a wild bamboo thicket— and promptly, headed back upriver. The man hadn't said another word, nor bid farewell. He'd only dropped his sails to catch the winds; then he and his vessel were gone.

The hardy vegetation now towered above and beyond China's head, massive fronds extending out and over, as if enticing her to enter its dark maze of entangled vines, rhizomes, and spiked stalks.

Heilong slid into the dense thicket, leading without hesitation. It was easy to see that he and this environment were well acquainted. Diaoyu followed, stepping quietly over a young bamboo shoot.

China waited for Fujian, who brought up the rear, keeping an eye out. In a hushed tone, Fujian told her, "Xsiu rduo."
(Shortcut.)

She took one last glance behind them before gesturing for China to go.

The girl gave a curt nod. She pushed her way into the undergrowth, attempting to avoid the razor-sharp splinters and brambles that seemed to purposefully claw at her skin. Branches swatted her in the face.

As she advanced further, the vegetation got progressively thicker. Her vision obscured by plants, China struggled to see the others.

For a while, she relied on her hearing and managed to keep up her pace; however, nightfall had other ideas. Cicadas began buzzing all around her in an unnaturally loud chorus that seemed to mute all other sound. In the darkening forest, China was deafened and technically blind.