South and North side of the mountain indeed present two completely different lives.

As Shan Yu felt the moist air blowing against his face, he suddenly sensed the transition from the north to the south, from the early autumn’s withering to the vibrant mid-spring.

The further he went, the thicker the fog became.

Unfamiliar with the landform, Shan Yu didn’t dare to rush into the forest or climb the mountain. He simply wandered around the misty stream. After a while, he stumbled upon a patch of light-yellow grass. Recognizing it as Japanese catnip, he hurried over.

Japanese catnip, a common herbal plant, not only possessed basic medicinal value but also had seedlings that could be fried and eaten. Spicy, sweet, and delicious, they served as an excellent substitute for lettuce and were far tastier than the wild vegetables Wan Qiu dug up.

Regretting not bringing Wan Qiu’s basket, Shan Yu looked around but found nothing to hold things, so he took off his outer shirt and began pinching the seedlings.

With a good start, subsequent finding soon would follow smoothly.

As Shan Yu discovered panax notoginseng, eupatorium japonicum, and other herbs one after another, he lost track of time while picking them. When he snapped back to reality, it was already dark.

Having spent a long-time collecting herb with his head lowered, Shan Yu lost his sense of direction. Now, with everything dark and the thick night fog obscuring the stars, he couldn’t even discern their glow in the sky.

Shan Yu retraced his steps along the path he had come from, but the further he walked, the more disoriented he became. Eventually, he found himself nearing the forest’s ascent up the mountain when suddenly, a cry pierced the air.

It was harsh and loud, resembling the cry of a hungry baby or the scream of a woman in distress.

The source of the sound was nearby, directly overhead.

Despite not believing in ghosts, Shan Yu cautiously put down his coat filled with herbs, grasped the tree stick in his hand, and looked up.

Thick fog shrouded his vision, thin clouds veiled the moon, and only a few stars peeked sparsely from the treetops, illuminating…

Shan Yu’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized the origin of the legendary cry.

It was a Whistle Acacia tree, known for its nectar on its roots and sweet leaves. However, to deter herbivores, its leaves were lined with sharp thorns that emitted a whistle-like sound when the wind blew, scaring away animals seeking food.

While this was a plant’s self-defense mechanism, the ancient people mistook its whistle for ghostly cries.

Shan Yu chuckled as he plucked a small piece of Acacia root floating on the ground, broke it off, and took a sip. The taste was less than honey but sweeter than sugar, filling his mouth with earthy sweetness.

Feeling satisfied with his discovery, Shan Yu was sucking the honey from the tree’s roots when he heard another cry not far away—a genuine human cry, mixed with faint shouts.

Drawing closer, Shan Yu encountered Wan Qiu, who was crying and calling out for him in fear, carrying the rabbit in his arms. As he stumbled, he instinctively covered his belly, fearing a fall.

Without hesitation, Shan Yu caught Wan Qiu before he could hit the ground and asked if he was alright. Overwhelmed with relief and joy to find his husband unharmed, Wan Qiu clung to him, tears and laughter mingling in his expression as he exclaimed his relief.

Shan Yu, taken aback, couldn’t comprehend the sudden change in Wan Qiu’s behavior. Wasn’t this the same person who ruthlessly beat the original owner to death? Why the sudden concern now?

Nevertheless, seeing Wan Qiu’s frail frame and feeling his bony arms, Shan Yu couldn’t help but pull him into a comforting embrace, awkwardly reassuring him, “I’m fine, don’t cry.”