Unrelated people? So, just because of this character on my forehead—this ''—I’m connected to Tan Ping'er? This whole thing… it’s completely outside the norm! Did she really travel all this way to Xi Du just to find Tianjiao Mountain, just to find me?

Xi Du, officially the Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture of Xi Du, is a place most people are likely unfamiliar with. But if I tell you it sits right next to the Xiangxi Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture—famous for its ‘corpse driving,’ ‘Gu poisoning,’ and ‘cave-dwelling maidens’—you’ll easily grasp its geographical setting and cultural atmosphere. Like Xiangxi, Xi Du is a primary settlement for the Tujia people. For centuries, countless ancient legends have circulated across this land, and inexplicable events have frequently occurred, baffling the outside world. In the eyes of outsiders, this place is shrouded in mystery and steeped in fantasy. Yet, in my memory, apart from the strange and beautiful myths Grandpa used to tell me, I never felt Xi Du was any different from the wider world. The people here embrace modern civilization and live ordinary lives, just like anywhere else.

In such an environment, I, a simple Tujia man, am suddenly entangled with a stunning mixed-race beauty bearing a bizarre green-haired pattern on her back, all because of a faint '' shape formed by scars on my forehead. Who would ever believe such a story if I told it?

Seeing my look of disbelief mingled with tentative acceptance, Tan Ping'er sighed softly and said, "You don't believe it, do you?"

"It’s not that I don’t believe it; it’s just that the reality of it is so… how should I put it? So utterly preposterous!" I forced a bitter laugh, recalling the moment she first stepped off the bus, how her eyes lit up. "So, the first time you saw me, you knew I was the person you were looking for?"

"Yes!"

"What about Man Niao Niao? Does Man Niao Niao know about the… that pattern on your back?"

"...He doesn't know! But he has seen the pattern!"

"Hmm?" I was utterly confused by Tan Ping'er’s answer—how could he not know yet have seen it? Tan Ping’er continued, "Stupid! He saw it drawn on paper. That day, I was sitting at Fengcheng Station, holding this drawing, unsure where to look for the place depicted, when Man Ming happened to sit beside me. I didn't pay attention at first, but suddenly he said, 'Huh? Isn't this drawing of Tianjiao Mountain where we’re from?' My heart leaped with joy. I quickly asked him for details, and then I followed him here!"

"So you only met yesterday? Then… why did he call you my aunt? Weren't you afraid he was a liar?"

Tan Ping’er blushed. "If you don't take advantage of a good thing, you're a bastard—isn't that what you men always say? At that moment, I didn't even consider if he might be deceiving me because it was the first time I heard the name 'Tianjiao Mountain' from anyone, and he spoke about it so authoritatively. He was polite to me the entire ride, constantly boasting about how clever his sworn brother, Man Yingying, was... Ha! I was so eager to meet you! Who knew that the moment we got off the bus, he called me… called me… it left me flustered and utterly bewildered!"

I finally understood. Man Niao Niao had played a huge prank on me, intending to humiliate me and make me lose face in front of a beautiful woman. This cursed brat made me call Tan Ping’er 'Auntie'; I’ve been mortified right at home!

"No wonder both I and Boss Ma called you 'Auntie'—you’ve been trying everything to deny it!" Understanding the whole story eased my tension. "By the way! How are you so good at drinking?"

"Do you remember me crouching down and beating my back after getting off the bus?"

"I remember! Didn't you say you were hungry then? I thought it was strange; why would being hungry make you beat your back… Wait? Does it have something to do with that green-haired pattern on your back?"

"Yes! Whenever I’m tired, hungry, in a bad mood… in short, whenever my condition isn't good, the area with the green pattern starts to ache, a pain that pierces the bone. Only drinking relieves the pain. Strangely, the more I drink, the faster the pain stops, yet I don’t get drunk, as if the alcohol is being consumed by the pattern itself, with no effect on my own nervous system. Today—or rather, yesterday—I was sitting on the bus for such a long time, I felt terribly carsick, and the pain in my back started then. I endured it, barely making it off the bus before I couldn't hold on any longer and crouched down in agony. Later, while drinking hot-and-spicy noodles, I originally… intended to maintain some composure, but… sigh, how embarrassing!"

I couldn't help but click my tongue in amazement, feeling a chill run down my spine. This was truly a human spectacle! A clear green-haired pattern 'growing' on a young woman's back was shocking enough, but to think it was also addicted to alcohol! Wasn't that like a parasite feeding on a host organism?

Tan Ping’er continued, "This was discovered once when my back was hurting terribly, and I secretly drank some of Master Qinghe's liquor…"

Hearing Tan Ping’er mention Master Qinghe repeatedly, and how he was connected to my supposed pairing with her, my curiosity and confusion deepened. I couldn't help but interrupt, "Just who is Master Qinghe?"

"I don't know his origins. I only know he is an old monk, and I have lived with him since childhood."

"Then… are you an orphan he took in?"

"...You could put it that way!" Tan Ping’er replied evasively.

I started to speak but stopped. Tan Ping’er glanced at me and continued, "Before I came here, he also told me four lines of a gatha…"

"A gatha? What gatha?"

"A person is an old friend, an old friend is not human; if you are an old friend, you must be made an old friend!"

"What do these four lines mean?"

"I don't know. Judging by the current situation, perhaps… you are the 'old friend' in the gatha?"

Me? An old friend? Whose old friend? Hers? We had never met before. How could I be an 'old friend'? The line 'an old friend is not human' is sheer nonsense! Taken literally, it means I’m not human? Is he cursing me or insulting me? 'If you are an old friend, you must be made an old friend'—does that mean if I am for the sake of an old friend, I must die for that old friend? If I am Tan Ping’er’s old friend, she must die because of me? —Utter nonsense!

"Did he tell you anything else?" My brain felt like it was about to explode, and I hadn't deciphered the meaning of those four lines at all, so I asked Tan Ping’er with a sharp edge in my voice.

"N-no more," Tan Ping’er said, glancing at me guiltily, her words hesitant. My mind was so consumed by the mysterious Master Qinghe that I missed this detail.

"What does he look like?" I thought. If Master Qinghe told Tan Ping’er to find someone with the '' character on their forehead, and she indeed found me, could this be a coincidence? Could… Master Qinghe be someone I already knew?

"He is just an ordinary old monk. The most distinct impression I have of him is that he loved to drink, and his capacity was incredible. He never went anywhere without a glass bottle in his pocket, filled with white liquor. I often saw him take a sip from the bottle without eating any accompanying snacks…"

"Wait—!" I cried out, a profoundly strange feeling erupting from the bottom of my heart like a spring. "Master Qinghe loved to drink? Had a glass liquor bottle? Never left it behind? Didn't need snacks?"

Tan Ping’er jumped, looking at me with confusion. "Yes! Why? Do you know him?"

"Tell me quickly! What exactly does Master Qinghe look like?" I was almost roaring at her now, that strange feeling intensifying, nearly overwhelming all my reason.

"He has… the most prominent feature is a tuft of snow-white goatee. His face has many wrinkles, but his eyes are sharp… Oh, yes, his eyebrows are also grayish-white. He is tall and gaunt, often wearing plain blue cloth clothing, slightly hunched, and he leans on a dragon-headed cane…" Tan Ping’er was clearly startled by my intensity, describing Master Qinghe’s appearance haltingly, her voice trembling.

"Stop—! Say it!! How do you know my grandfather? Did Man Niao Niao tell you what my grandfather looked like?" My face was ashen, and I fiercely grabbed Tan Ping’er’s arm. "Fine! You and Man Niao Niao teamed up to spin a story to trick me! What are your intentions? What is your goal? Tell me, how do you know my grandfather’s appearance so clearly? —I suppose the '' on my forehead and those four lines of gatha are also part of your elaborate fabrication, aren't they?"

Seeing my fierce expression, Tan Ping’er shrieked in terror. "What are you talking about? I don't know your grandfather at all! Man Ming never told me what your grandfather looked like—Let go! You’re hurting me…"

I released her, my mind reeling. The Master Qinghe Tan Ping’er described was unmistakably my grandfather!

I won't deny that there are people who look remarkably alike in the world, but if two people have the exact same mannerisms and dress identically, what does that suggest? It suggests they are the same person! But I saw my grandfather pass away with my own eyes, I saw him placed in a coffin with my own eyes, and I saw him buried in the earth with my own eyes. How could he appear in another place? —Because Tan Ping’er clearly stated that Master Qinghe sent her to find someone with the '' character on their forehead recently, and 'recently' certainly couldn't mean a decade or more ago.

Could my grandfather have a living twin brother?

Tan Ping’er walked to the window and began to sob quietly, her shoulders shaking, tears pouring down her face like rain. Watching her back, my heart was a tangled mess, and I didn't know what to do. My hand trembled as I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, trying desperately to calm down.

After a few deep drags, the usually comforting scent of smoke tasted bitter and dry, deepening my agitation. I paced rapidly in the room, my shadow stretching into a ghostly shape under the harsh light of the bare bulb, creating a silence more profound than sound. Tan Ping’er's solitary figure and her quiet weeping soon drowned out my rationality. I violently threw the cigarette butt away and lunged behind her. With my right hand, I yanked up the hem of her sleep shirt and, with my left hand, struck out like lightning toward the scapula on her back, digging in with five fingers, attempting to tear the green-haired pattern right off. As a sharp, needle-like pain shot through my palm, Tan Ping’er screamed, "Ah—" The sound was piercing and agonizing, so intense that even the light of the bulb seemed to momentarily lose its power.

Her scream pierced through the impulse surging within me. I stood there dumbfounded for four or five seconds before frantically letting go of her sleep shirt. Opening my hand, I saw I hadn't managed to pull off the green-haired pattern. My panic intensified, and I stood helplessly, staring blankly at her retreating figure.

I was filled with regret. So far, there was no definitive proof that Master Qinghe was my grandfather, and those four lines of gatha were certainly not something an ordinary person could invent offhand. Furthermore, even if this was a scheme, what was the objective? Why target me, a Tujia man so ordinary he couldn't be more common?

After my rough grab elicited her scream, Tan Ping’er didn't turn around. Her shoulders shook even more violently, and she covered her eyes with both hands, her soft sobs threatening to escalate into full-blown wails. An inexplicable, sharp pain pierced my heart. I sidled up behind her, reaching out to pat her shoulder to comfort her, my mind frantically searching for the right words to apologize.

Before my hand could reach her delicate shoulder, Tan Ping’er suddenly spun around, threw her arms around me, and her pale, ice-cold lips instantly pressed against mine… My mind exploded, and my whole body jolted. The coolness of her lips shot like lightning into the deepest, most vulnerable part of my memory—this sensation was too familiar!

After a brief kiss, Tan Ping’er stepped back, her face pale, her eyes fixed on me with an expression of sorrowful resentment. Looking at her ethereal features, a sense of dread sank into the softest, most fragile part of my body like mercury hitting the ground. That vague, strange feeling I had the first time I saw her finally surfaced clearly in my mind.

—Tan Ping’er’s face was startlingly similar to the face of the yellow-clad maiden from my 'Old Hag Riding the Chest' dream on the sixth day of the sixth lunar month!!!

I stared blankly at her face, a chill enveloping me. I had nearly forgotten that bizarre nightmare, but Tan Ping’er's fleeting kiss had dragged it up from the depths of my memory.

"I didn't lie to you! I truly didn't lie to you!" Tan Ping’er murmured, gazing at me intensely.

"I know!" I replied mechanically, still staring at her.

"You… know?" Tan Ping’er’s face was streaked with tears, bewilderment mixed with deep sorrow.

I nodded, picked up the still-lit cigarette butt, took a few deep drags, exhaled heavily, and slowly began to recount the strange 'Old Hag Riding the Chest' dream I had on the sixth day of the sixth month.

"You mean… the yellow-clad maiden in your dream looked very much like me?" Tan Ping’er was clearly stunned by my dream, her voice trembling and low. I nodded silently.

After a long pause, recalling the object the yellow-clad maiden had poked into my side in the dream, I forced down the thunderous pounding of my heart and quietly asked Tan Ping’er, "Did you… have something black, something not quite jade, not quite iron?"

"A black object? You mean… the thing the yellow-clad maiden poked into your side?"

"Yes."

"No! Can you… remember what it looked like?"

"...I can't recall!" I searched my mind for a long time; the object felt familiar, yet I couldn't place where I had seen it before. I shook my head. "I want to sleep! Can we talk about this tomorrow?… You should rest early too!" My mind was a chaotic mess, filled with countless questions, yet I didn't know where to begin asking them. All I wanted was to escape quickly, lie in bed, and let my frantic heart find some sense of solid ground.

Back in the room, Man Niao Niao was still snoring soundly, seemingly oblivious to me entering Tan Ping’er’s room in the middle of the night. I quietly slipped back into bed, groping for the '' mark on my forehead in the dark. Helplessly, I thought that I never imagined these few scars would drag me into such an inexplicable and bizarre event. I thought back carefully; these scars weren't formed all at once. The first horizontal stroke of the '' was from when I was very young, falling from Grandpa’s carrying basket and hitting my forehead on a stone. The vertical stroke was from when I accidentally hacked myself with Grandpa's bamboo knife. The final horizontal stroke appeared when my head knocked against something as I rose up after bowing at Grandpa’s burial. I found it strange then, as the ground was perfectly flat—how could my forehead be cut? Was it from bowing too hard? But there were many people around, and I was overcome with grief. For a child raised in the mountains like me, getting minor injuries was common, so I didn’t dwell on the reason then.

Recalling it now, all three scars are connected to my grandfather. A chill ran down my spine. Could the formation of these three scars be destiny, hiding some more mysterious explanation?

I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. A faint hint of dawn was seeping in through the window. I sat up, looked out, and the silhouettes of the various buildings and distant mountains gradually sharpened. Milky-white morning mist drifted ethereally among the hazy mountains and trees. A magpie called its song, "Gui Gui Yang, Gui Gui Yang," in the distance—a melodious, pleasant sound. A nearby tree, disturbed by some unseen bird, shook off strings of dewdrops that pattered softly onto the leaves. Early risers were already starting their day; the sounds of hawking, bargaining, greetings, and the occasional car horn all heralded the arrival of a new day full of vitality.

Man Niao Niao turned over, murmuring something in his sleep. I lay wide awake, watching his blurry outline in the dawn light. I should have felt grateful and relieved that he had rescued me from the 'Old Hag' dream with that phone call. Who would have thought that this very call led me to see an unheard-of, unseen green-haired pattern, and the most bizarre part of this pattern was the Anle Cave he had crawled through as a child?

Anle Cave? I slapped my forehead, cursing myself for forgetting about that capable man who knew how to 'deal with' Man Niao Niao!

That capable man, surnamed An and given the name Ming, was no small figure around here. Rumor had it he was skilled in everything: pulse diagnosis, Feng Shui, physiognomy, character reading, and he knew every local anecdote by heart. He had a deep connection to me—he was my Jiye, my godfather.

When I was a child, I was sickly and often ill. My parents learned from Mr. An that I needed a godfather to ensure my health. But after searching everywhere, no one was willing to be my godfather because of a local superstition: taking on a godson would cause the death of one of their own sons. Naturally, no one wanted to do such a foolish thing. Seeing my parents’ distress, and because he and my father were sworn brothers since childhood, plus the fact that he was very fond of me and believed I had a boundless future, Mr. An approached my parents and suggested he become my godfather. My parents were overjoyed, but they worried about the local saying and whether taking me as a godson would bring him any harm. Tan Ping’er hesitated, but Mr. An waved it off, saying I would merely be 'fostered' with him, and since his own destiny pillar was strong, it wouldn't affect him. Thus, Mr. An became my godfather. However, locally we don't call a godfather 'Gāndiē'; we call him Jìyé, meaning 'fostered master.' Strangely enough, ever since I formally 'paid respects' to Mr. An as my godfather, my health genuinely improved day by day.

Mr. An actually had another plan: he wanted to take me as an apprentice, which I only learned later. Before high school, I was quite interested in his esoteric knowledge. Later, influenced by societal trends, I became singularly focused on getting into university and began to dismiss things like "Jiazi Yichou, gold in the sea"—which disappointed him greatly for a while.

Perhaps, only he can make sense of everything that happened tonight…