It was the peak of July, and the sky above Qingfeng Town looked like a washed-out cloth, pale and cloudless. At the village entrance, the old locust tree drooped lifelessly, while cicadas screeched in waves, their buzzing drowning out the entire Yangjia Village.
Nathaniel Forrest lay on the wooden bed back home, feeling the scorching heat radiating from the floorboards. The ceiling fan groaned above him, stirring the hot air but doing nothing to ease the heavy stuffiness pressing on his chest.
In his hand, he held a neatly formatted resume. The bold “Outstanding Graduate” words at the top now felt like an ironic slap in the face.
Just a month ago, he was the pride of Jiangzhou Agricultural University — collecting scholarships like trophies, confident his future was set. But reality had floored him fast. Rejections piled up, promising interviews turned into empty “We’ll contact you” lines, and the shining city opportunities slipped further away each time.
Defeated and carrying only a couple of bags, he had dragged himself back to where everything once began — Yangjia Village.
“Sigh…”
He let out a long breath, sat up, and crumpled the resume into a ball before tossing it into the trash bin without missing.
Shirtless, Nathaniel walked over to the wooden window and pushed it open. Warm air rushed in, mixed with the dry smell of soil and grass.
In the yard, a few old hens scratched lazily at the dirt. His mother, Margaret Collins, stood with her back to him, hanging laundry. The clothes gave off a faint smell of soap.
The distant hills remained the same, and smoke curled gently from village chimneys — everything he left behind felt unchanged. Peaceful. Simple. But now…it almost made him feel trapped.
This slow-paced life wrapping around his dreams was like an invisible net, holding him down. He wanted to break free — he just didn’t know how.
After roasting on the bed for half an hour, his stomach finally growled in protest. He pulled on a faded T-shirt, slid into his worn-out slippers, and shuffled toward the front yard.
The Forrest family’s “Forrest Breakfast” had always been kind of a big deal around Yangjia Village. It wasn’t fancy — just a corner of the yard turned into a shop, a few old tables and wooden benches, and that was it.
It was close to noon, but the air still smelled of fried dough, soy milk, and fresh bread—warm and inviting.
His father, Oliver Forrest, stood shirtless in his apron, hands dusted with flour as he rolled out dough on the counter. He moved quickly and skillfully.
In the big iron pot, oil bubbled as the dough sticks puffed up into golden fritters, crackling as they cooked.
“Nate, you’re up? Come, I saved you some soy milk and buns,” Margaret called out, carrying a bowl of soy milk over as she waved goodbye to the last customer. The moment she saw her son, her smile lit up, softening the lines on her face even more.
She placed the food on the table.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Nathaniel pulled out a bench, sat down, and took a sip. The warm soy milk calmed the heat and hunger gnawing at him.
As Margaret cleared the tables, she glanced over and asked, “You went to the county yesterday — any luck? You’re the first college grad from around here. Shouldn’t be too hard for you to land a good job, right?”
Her voice burst with hope and motherly concern, making Nathaniel’s chest tighten.
He paused, then smiled up at her. “No rush, Mom. Good jobs in the county are few and far between. Lots of competition too. I figure I’ll stick around for a while and help you guys out while I wait for the right chance.”
The truth was — he’d been turned down too many times, and now he couldn’t bear to say it out loud anymore.Those polite, distant looks from the interviewers stung worse than the blazing summer sun.
Margaret Collins’ smile faltered for a moment, but she still nodded. “It’s good to have you back. With you home, we can finally catch a breather.”
“You made the right call coming back!” Oliver Forrest chimed in with his deep, rough voice as he wiped sweat from his neck. His grin was wide and genuine. “What’s so great about the city anyway? Packed like sardines. Here at home, it’s spacious, the air’s clean, and you’ve got your mom’s cooking. Plus, Samantha’s college exams are around the corner. You being here means you can help out.”
His words were simple, but they hit Nathaniel Forrest hard, like a boulder dropping on his chest.
He turned his head and looked across the shop. At a corner table sat his sister Samantha. Ponytail tied high, black-rimmed glasses on, one hand holding a pork bun, the other flipping through an intimidating vocabulary book. She was muttering to herself, completely lost in her own world.
Hearing her parents mention her brother, Samantha looked up. Their eyes met through her lenses.
There was no pity in her gaze—just quiet understanding and a touch of worry. Almost like she was saying, “Take it slow, bro, I’ve got faith in you.”
She gave him a small smile, then bent her head again and went back to memorizing.
Nathaniel and Samantha had always shared a close bond. She understood his pride and frustration better than anyone.
That silent support stirred something warm in Nathaniel’s chest. It also made him want, even more, to carry the weight of the family.
After lunch, the customers left, and the breakfast shop finally quieted down. Nathaniel quietly helped his parents clean up—wiping tables, mopping the floor. They moved in sync, as if he’d never been away.
When everything was done, Oliver and Margaret went to take a nap. Nathaniel headed back to his room. The heat was still unbearable inside, but it wasn't just the temperature—his heart felt heavier than ever.
He sat there, looking around the familiar, shabby room: a simple bed, a scratched-up desk, an old peeling wardrobe. On the wall, a faded poster of a basketball star he’d idolized in high school still hung.
This room held all his teenage years—including the dreams of one day escaping it.
Now, he was back.
And he couldn’t bear the thought of his dad’s shoulders bending lower, or his mom’s hands getting rougher with every wash of oil and grease. Most of all, he didn’t want his sister to stress over tuition fees.
He had to do something. Anything.
But where should he start?
He paced the room, restlessly turning things over in his head. That’s when his eyes landed on an old kraft tube in the corner of his desk.
Walking over, he untied the red string and unrolled the paper inside.
It was a weathered, hand-drawn map—edges frayed, paper yellowed. His father had drawn it from memory back in the day, sketching out the forests, streams, and landmarks surrounding the village.
Nathaniel's finger slowly traced across the map. Maybe… he could check out the mountains?
He didn’t have a job in the city anyway. He couldn’t just sit around at home all day.
There were herbs up there that could fetch a decent price if he found them. Maybe even game animals if he got lucky. It’d bring in some cash and give him something to focus on.
He just needed a chance. Just one thing to break the cycle. Even if it was a rabbit or a rare plant.
His fingertip brushed past “Wild Boar Woods,” then “Skyline Crack.” And finally stopped at a circle drawn in red ink—three characters stood out: “Longyin Pool.”
The moment his skin touched that spot, a strange tingling sensation spread through his finger—like a faint electric pulse that made his heart skip.
Longyin Pool?
He remembered the old folks in the village used to say that place was cursed. The water ran deep and fog hung over it all year round. Rumors said a dragon lived at the bottom. No one dared go near it.
But now, those three words were burning into him, like they were calling out. Like his fate had just shifted a bit.
Tomorrow, he’d head there.
For the first time in days, a fire sparked in Nathaniel’s eyes, finally chasing away the fog of confusion clouding his heart.
