“…”
Song Yu wasn’t sure if it was guilt or something else, but she instinctively glanced at the man walking slightly ahead of them.
Pei Zhi kept walking on his own, as if he hadn’t paid any attention to their conversation.
“No wonder Zhou Yan’s been chasing you and you never give him the time of day,” Xu Zhouxu said. He’d always thought Zhou Yan was the best catch among the guys he knew. He shook his head with a tsk. “Didn’t realize your tastes ran so… unique.”
Song Yu pulled her gaze away and slipped her hands into her pockets, fiddling with the beads inside. They made a crisp clinking sound as she replied coolly, “When has he ever chased me?” She was trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Xu Zhouxu looked surprised. “You seriously can’t tell? He’s been after you for years. Why else would he let you win every time you play cards?”
That was exactly why he loved dragging Song Yu and Zhou Yan into card games. Over the years, he’d fleeced his bro out of a small fortune.
“I can win without him going easy on me, you know.”
Keeping track of the cards wasn’t rocket science. Song Yu just didn’t usually bother putting in the effort.
At that moment, the man ahead of them stopped.
He held out his hand toward her. “Want some?”
Two small, grayish-white berries rested in his broad palm. She had no idea when he’d picked them.
Song Yu blinked, meeting his calm, unreadable eyes. Even though she knew he couldn’t understand her, she still felt awkward, like they’d been gossiping right in front of him.
“These berries aren’t poisonous. They’re safe to eat,” Pei Zhi explained flatly.
Song Yu remembered the toxic berries she’d picked for him earlier. She smiled and plucked them from his palm, popping one into her mouth. “Then I’ll look for these next time.”
Xu Zhouxu couldn’t have cared less about the berries.
He wasn’t happy about the topic change and pressed on. “So, you’re not leading him on or anything?”
Why did her voice sound so much softer when she talked to this guy than it ever did with him?
She’d lit up like a kid at Christmas over a couple of berries.
Zhou Yan had thrown her so many games, and she’d never even cracked a smile for him.
Song Yu crunched down on the berry in her mouth. The juice burst out, grayish-white and not much to look at, but surprisingly sweet and refreshing.
She licked the roof of her mouth.
Who knew who was leading whom on, really.
Song Yu blinked at him. “None of your business. Butt out.” Her tone came off childish, laced with a hint of petulance at having her secrets poked at.
In the distance, Kasi had been waiting at the camp entrance for ages. Spotting Song Yu, she waved frantically and called out her name.
Song Yu broke into a light jog, not waiting for the others, heading straight for Kasi like a nimble forest deer.
A gentle breeze stirred with her movement, lifting strands of her hair that brushed against Pei Zhi’s chin. It tickled, the sensation sinking deep inside him.
The air carried a faint scent of gin.
Pei Zhi watched her retreating figure, the corner of his mouth curving in the barest hint of a smile.
After a moment, he lowered his lashes and shook his head with a helpless sigh.
As usual, the Native American tribe lit their campfires at dusk. They set up a pot over the flames, steaming a mix of cassava flour and cornmeal.
Takwar welcomed Song Yu’s arrival but eyed Xu Zhouxu, who’d tagged along, with a touch of wariness. That caution didn’t last long—Xu Zhouxu’s killer social skills won him over quick.
With a pained expression, Xu Zhouxu recounted his rainforest woes: collapsing beds and all, complete with dramatic gestures. Then he pivoted to praising Takwar and his people as the true masters of the jungle, heirs to their ancestors’ wisdom.
He had a silver tongue for flattery.
Even with the language barrier, his wild gestures and Takwar’s occasional translations had the tribe roaring with laughter. Before long, the men dragged him off for a soccer game.
Soccer stripped away the veneer of civilization, reducing everyone to primal chaos. Xu Zhouxu got the memo fast—within minutes, he ditched the rules, shoving and tussling with the best of them.
The women preparing dinner cast him gentle, curious glances.
Kasi sat on a rug in the clearing, propping her chin in her hands, lips pursed.
Song Yu had traded all her beads for a bunch of photos. She even snapped pics of the Old Witch Doctor’s treehouse, roofed in deer hides, swapping them for some rare herbs she’d bought in São Paulo.
Emerging from the Old Witch Doctor’s hut, she noticed Takwar wasn’t joining the soccer match.
He was loading dried venison and animal pelts onto two long canoes.
The wooden boats were sleek and narrow, with upturned prows and sterns.
Takwar called out to Kasi. She dragged her feet getting up from the rug but went over to help tie things down.
Song Yu trailed after them curiously. “What are you doing?”
Kasi was untangling a thick rope. “Getting stuff ready for Paso tomorrow.”
“Paso?”
Kasi nodded by way of explanation. “Every year around this time, tribes from all over the jungle head there to sell or trade the year’s haul.”
Song Yu got it—like a country fair back home in the rural villages. “Are you going too?”
Kasi finally freed the rope and swiftly bound up a stack of hides. “Yeah. Used to be Meyer went with Takwar, but she’s got the kid to look after now.”
She tilted her head. “Does the time I’ve been out these past couple days count toward that month?” Kasi was counting every single day.
Song Yu thought for a second. “If you take me along, it does.”
Kasi perked up at that. With barely any arm-twisting, she convinced Takwar to let Song Yu join.
The year’s hunt had been slimmer than last, leaving both canoes only half-loaded. Song Yu would fit just right.
Plus, her offer of payment for a round trip was generous enough for Takwar to snag extra corn and cloth in Paso.
At dinner, Bam—the one with the leg injury—was helped out of his hut and laid on a fresh bearskin rug.
Xu Zhouxu’s eyes lit up. He took one look at that bearskin and offered a king’s ransom for it.
Bam shook his head stubbornly, refusing to sell.
That bearskin had borne witness to his brush with death. It was a gift from the guardian spirit.
Bam’s wounds were severe, but Native Americans in the rainforest seemed to heal from pain with uncanny speed. He was already hobbling along with a tree branch for support.
He made his way to Takwar’s campfire, propping himself under the armpits with the branch. With both hands, he reverently offered Song Yu an arrow.
The arrow had pierced a grizzly’s throat once. Its razor-sharp head was notched and stained with blood that no amount of scrubbing could erase.
It was proof of a Native American warrior’s triumph over the wild.
With it, Bam expressed his gratitude for Song Yu’s aid.
Song Yu smiled and accepted the arrow with both hands, her thumb stroking the shaft with care.
No words were needed between them—they understood.
Bam stared, entranced by the laughter sparkling in the beautiful woman’s eyes.
The Old Witch Doctor leaned against an ancient banyan tree, its vast canopy casting deep shadows.
His cloudy eyes, like still deep waters, silently observed the tribe.
“Poor child,” the Old Witch Doctor rasped. The tribe’s unique accent made his voice sound like whispers from the cosmos. “Bam’s fallen for her.”
“…” A shadow shifted in the tree above.
Pei Zhi perched amid the layered branches, his long legs stretched out straight along a trunk, notebook balanced on his knee.
He looked up through the gaps in the leaves, down at the campfire below.
The flames lit Bam’s dark skin with a faint red glow.
Song Yu’s eyes shone bright as she said something to him.
Bam broke into a simple, bashful grin.
The Old Witch Doctor shook his head with a long sigh. “He’s chasing a lost cause.”
“…” Pei Zhi slowly drew his gaze back. His long black lashes lowered, veiling the emotion in his eyes.
The steel nib of his pen scratched across the paper, leaving a jagged streak.
At the end of the mark, the nib lingered too long, blooming into a dark ink blot.
When Xu Zhouxu heard Song Yu was heading out for two days, he didn’t complain or insist on tagging along like she’d half-expected.
He already had plans of his own: joining the tribe’s men on a jungle hunt to bag his own trophy pelt.
Song Yu had no clue what to pack for Paso. Kasi told her not to worry—they’d handle everything.
So she traveled light, with just a waterproof backpack. Inside were spare clothes, her laptop, camera, and spare batteries taking up most of the space.
By the time she reached the agreed riverbank, Takwar and the others were already there. The two canoes bobbed on the water, tethered by ropes to a tree to keep from drifting.
Song Yu spotted an extra person.
Pei Zhi leaned against the bow of one boat, his thin eyelids drooping like he’d just woken up. His index finger toyed with a chain looped around his neck.
The chain was a thin braid of rough hemp strung with a white animal tooth, curved like a crescent moon, swaying gently.
Song Yu couldn’t help thinking how such a simple ornament took on a mesmerizing wild allure when worn by him.
As if sensing her stare, Pei Zhi lifted his gaze to meet hers.
Their eyes locked in a silent, steady standoff.
Until Kasi waved at Song Yu.
Their luck held—no rain when they set off.
The river flowed calm and steady.
Takwar and Pei Zhi each paddled one canoe.
Song Yu rode with Takwar; Kasi went with Pei Zhi.
Because when they set off, Kasi and Takwar had argued again for some unknown reason, they had no choice but to separate the two.
Today, though it wasn’t raining, the humidity hung thick in the air, especially on the river. Grayish-white mist seemed to envelop everything around them.
Across the narrow channel, Kasi and Takwar were still bickering, one behind the other.
Song Yu couldn’t understand a word of it, but her head was already buzzing with pain.
In contrast, the man on the other boat appeared utterly accustomed to the siblings’ antics. His expression was utterly neutral, as if the matter didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Song Yu pursed her lips and simply turned away, putting her back to them. Out of sight, out of mind. She picked up her camera and snapped photos of the distant scenery.
Kasi, that wild girl, always got a little crazy when she argued. In the end, she laboriously scooped up a heavy bunch of green-skinned bananas from the boat and hurled it at Takwar.
Takwar, who was sitting up front rowing, dodged nimbly. Song Yu, however, hadn’t seen it coming. She was leaning to the side, squinting at the camera’s viewfinder.
The hefty bunch of bananas struck her hand with a loud thunk. The camera flew from her grasp and banged against the gunwale.
Kasi let out a sharp scream. She hadn’t meant to hit Song Yu and apologized profusely across the two boats.
Song Yu was completely dazed by the impact. Her hand burned with pain. Clutching the camera, it took her a good half minute to come back to her senses.
“Are you all right?” Takwar asked with concern. He even translated it into the local tongue before turning his head to continue berating Kasi.
Song Yu shook her head. The first thing she did upon recovering was check the camera lens. Fortunately, it wasn’t damaged—just a dent in the edge.
The wooden boat, still drifting forward, bumped gently into the stern of the one ahead and came to a leisurely stop. Song Yu’s body tilted back slightly.
Takwar looked ahead in confusion.
Pei Zhi steadied his paddle against a rock on the bank. His fingers tapped impatiently on the oar. “Kasi, come over here. If you two want to argue, do it by yourselves.”
His voice was low and clearly displeased.
Feeling guilty, Kasi mumbled under her breath as she hopped off the boat.
Takwar’s boat couldn’t fit three people, so Song Yu simply switched to the other one.
Ridden with remorse, Kasi behaved herself from then on. She even took over Takwar’s rowing duties.
Once they passed through the narrow channel, the river’s current picked up noticeably. Kasi rowed slowly, and the distance between the two boats gradually widened without anyone noticing.
Song Yu sat in the boat, no longer able to hear Kasi and Takwar’s quarrel.
The surroundings grew very quiet, filled only with the sound of oars churning the water and the man’s faint breathing.
There were no other boats on the river. In the distance lay hazy green mountains, as if the entire world consisted of just the two of them.
Neither spoke to the other.
Though it had only been a day since they’d last seen each other, everything felt distant and awkward.
Song Yu blinked, not daring to turn and look at the man behind her.
She cradled the camera in her arms, the lens cap already snapped shut. Her fingertips rubbed restlessly over the body of the device, betraying her tension and unease.
A light rain began to fall from the sky, pattering into the yellow river and sending ripples spreading in tender, alluring circles.
They drifted with the current.
Pei Zhi grew too lazy to row anymore. He set the pole aside and sat at the stern.
His gaze fixed on the woman’s back. Strands of dark hair fell down, her head slightly bowed, revealing a stretch of snowy-white neck. A few loose hairs danced lightly upon it, as if swaying right into his heart.
The two of them sat there, one in front of the other.
Neither looked at the other.
Neither spoke to the other.
Yet he wished time could freeze in that moment.
Pei Zhi recalled the Old Witch Doctor’s murmur from the night before.
—”Bam has fallen in love with her.”
In the tribe’s language, there was only the word “love”—no word for “like.”
Once they loved, it was to the deepest degree.
The man’s thin eyelids drooped. His reflection shimmered on the water’s surface.
And what about him?
What was that feeling?
Was it like this?