荒墟牧神 - 暮色封村，莫入荒夜 - 書海閣

Granny Zhu lifted the basket. Inside was a swaddled infant, and atop the swaddling cloth lay a jade pendant that gave off a faint glow. The pendant's light resembled that of the statues, though far weaker. It was this jade that protected the child in the basket from the things in the Gloom. But the pendant's glow was faint. It could protect the child, but not the woman.

"It's a boy."

Back in Yincan Village, the villagers gathered around—all of them old, weak, sick, or maimed. Granny Zhu peeled back the swaddling cloth for a look and grinned, her few remaining teeth scattered and crooked. "Yincan Village finally has a healthy person!"

Lame Sou, who had only one leg, was startled. "Old Granny Si, you plan to raise him? We can barely feed ourselves! I think we should give him away..."

Granny Zhu flew into a rage. "I found this child with my own skill—why should I give him away?"

The villagers murmured and nodded, not daring to contradict her. The Village Head arrived on a stretcher. He was more pitiful than the rest—the others at least had hands and feet, just fewer than normal, but he had neither hands nor feet. Yet everyone held him in deep respect. Even the fierce Granny Zhu did not dare to be insolent before him.

"Since you're going to raise him, you should give him a name."

The Village Head said, "Old Granny, is there anything else in the basket?"

Granny Zhu rummaged through it and shook her head. "Only this jade pendant. No notes or anything else. There's a character on the pendant—'Qin.' The jade has no impurities, and there's a strange power within it. It's no ordinary thing. It must come from a wealthy household."

"Is he called Qin, or is Qin his surname?"

The Village Head pondered. "Let Qin be his surname. His given name shall be Mu—Shen Mu. When he grows up, he can tend livestock. At least he'll get by."

"Shen Mu." Granny Zhu looked at the infant in the swaddling cloth. The baby was not afraid of her at all—he babbled and laughed.

...

By the river, the sound of a flute drifted over. A cowherd sat on the back of a cow, playing. The notes were clear and melodious. The cowherd was eleven or twelve, with delicate features, red lips and white teeth. His clothes hung half open, and a jade pendant rested against his chest. This youth was the very infant Granny Zhu had found by the river eleven years ago. Over the years, the village elders had raised the child through hardship. Granny Zhu had somehow acquired a cow, and baby Shen Mu drank its milk every day, surviving the period when infants were most prone to early death. Though the villagers of Yincan Village were a fierce-looking lot, they treated him well. Granny Zhu was a seamstress, and in daily life Shen Mu learned tailoring from her, herb-gathering and medicine-making from the Alchemist, leg techniques from Grandpa Lame Sou, sound-location by ear from Grandpa Blind Sou, and breathing exercises from the handless, footless Village Head. The days passed quickly enough. This cow had been his wet nurse in infancy. Granny Zhu had originally planned to sell it, but Shen Mu could not bear to part with it, so the task of tending the cow fell to him. He often grazed the cow by the river. Green mountains like dark brows, blue waves and white clouds—it was a pleasant life.

"Shen Mu, Shen Mu, save me!"

Suddenly, the cow beneath him spoke. Shen Mu jumped in fright and leaped down from its back. The cow's eyes brimmed with tears as it spoke in human tongue. "Shen Mu, you grew up on my milk. I am half a mother to you. You must save me!"

Shen Mu blinked and ventured, "How can I save you?"

The cow said, "You have a sickle at your waist. Peel off my hide, and you can free me from this plight."

Shen Mu hesitated. The cow said, "Have you forgotten the grace of one who nursed you?"