Dragon Boat Secret Realm 28: Paper-Cut Figures

The Flower God’s blessings concluded, and the dock’s crowd remained immersed in the divine atmosphere, unable to extricate themselves. Joyful smiles spread uncontrollably across their faces.

Next came the offering of the festival’s sacrifices.

About a hundred young women, dressed in new clothes with flowers adorning their hair, stepped forward. Their youthful faces tilted upward, eyes sparkling with anticipation, awaiting the Flower God’s selection.

They were the finest girls from the surrounding villages, including Qiu Kui, Xiao’e’s sister.

Qiu Kui stood at the forefront, in a pale yellow gauze dress, apricot blossoms in her hair, her expression calm yet gentle. Unlike the excited girls around her, she kept her eyes lowered, uneasy.

She hadn’t seen Xiao’e this morning.

“Come, my dear children, let me see you,” the Flower God said, her smile warm and benevolent. With a flick of her sleeve, ten streams of radiant light fell upon the chosen girls’ heads, one landing on Qiu Kui.

She was selected to live with the Flower God!

Amid envious gazes, Qiu Kui’s heart tightened. She scanned the crowd for Xiao’e. Today, she would leave forever. Where was Xiao’e?

Hadn’t she come to say goodbye?

Was she upset because Qiu Kui had been too strict lately?

Once she was gone, Xiao’e would be their parents’ only support. She needed to grow up fast.

Unchosen girls gasped in surprise, while parents of the selected beamed with pride and sorrow, boasting to those nearby.

“Look at the one in front, the tallest, most beautiful—that’s my daughter!”

“A fine girl,” another said, eyeing the tall figure. “She’s gone for good. Won’t you miss her?”

The mother wiped tears, her voice steady. “How could I not? She came from me, so tiny at first, raised to be this wonderful. But serving the Flower God is her blessing. Knowing she’ll be happy is enough.”

Seeing her sister chosen, Xiao’e’s eyes widened with pain and rage, itching to grab a stick and shove the impostor into the sea to feed the turtles.

Zhang Wenhui patted her tense hand, giving her a look: Be patient.

The ten chosen girls were called forward, and a flower-laden bamboo raft glided to the shore.

As it docked, the crowd erupted in cheers, wishing they could follow the Flower God. Drums sounded again, music and laughter filling the air, festive and vibrant.

Amid the joyous music, laughter, and gongs, soft sobs emerged—chosen girls, parents parted from their kin, and the tormented souls trapped in the skeleton’s bones.

They wailed piercingly:

“Mother, Mother, I’m here!”

“Father, save me, don’t send me away!”

The crowd shouted gleefully:

“Farewell, Flower God!”

“Safe travels, Goddess!”

Illusions and reality flickered before Su Qing’s eyes. Laughter and cries assaulted her ears, her temples throbbing, eyes bloodshot.

Sated, the Flower God departed, stepping across the sea, her skirt blooming with flowers, each step a lotus.

Her figure faded into the distance, the islanders still kowtowing toward her path.

After she left, the ten girls boarded the bamboo raft, drifting away amid curved waves and colorful petals.

Girls on the shore gathered, releasing their prepared paper-cut figures into the sea.

The humanoid cuttings unfurled on the water, floating as if alive, drifting with petals in the raft’s direction.

The sea near the dock shimmered with vibrant colors, like dawn’s glow on the waves. Once the rafts departed, Su Qing’s group boarded the Dragon Boat from an inconspicuous dockside.

“Let’s go—follow them.”

Designed by Xiao’e, the Dragon Boat was steady and swift, gliding without a jolt.

Half a day later, they caught up to the girls’ raft.

Not because the raft was slow—it moved quickly with the current—but it had stalled, caught by something.

Unbeknownst to them, the prayer paper cuttings had caught up, forming a vivid barrier like countless tiny figures holding hands, blocking the raft.

The cuttings, though beautiful, weren’t waterproof. After soaking, they faded to white, eerie and uniform.

Some girls, frightened, clutched their chests. “So creepy—what’s this bad omen? Are they stopping us from reaching the Flower God?”

Bolder ones grabbed oars, eager to scatter them.

Qiu Kui stopped them, frowning. “These are our prayer cuttings, our talismans. I don’t think they mean harm.”

Another disagreed. “They’re paper substitutes to ward off misfortune. Maybe they’ve gathered resentment and want to harm us! This could be a test of our resolve!”

As the girls argued, Su Qing’s group caught up.

Seeing her sister, Xiao’e wanted to shout the truth but feared causing panic. The Flower God’s image was deeply rooted; her words wouldn’t convince anyone and might spark chaos.

Su Qing had a plan.

The illusion’s biggest drawback was the lack of a storage bag. She retrieved a finely crafted parcel from the cabin, containing exquisite jewelry and ornate clothing—Chen Manor’s treasures, likely the Chen miss’s.

Su Qing unfurled a gold-and-silver embroidered robe, dressing Tian Ning. Zhang Wenhui styled her hair, securing it with costly jeweled hairpins, golden ornaments dangling by her cheeks, gleaming in the sun.

Tian Ning, usually in simple robes with a sword, wasn’t used to such restrictive elegance. She pursed her lips, uncomfortable.

Fully adorned, she transformed into a noblewoman. Already strikingly beautiful, the attire amplified her allure, her impassive face lending an otherworldly divinity.

Su Qing beamed—her friend’s beauty was her pride. “Not bad. This outshines that so-called Flower God.”

Xiao’e, snapping out of her daze, gasped. “You’re prettier than my sister.”

Her highest praise, rarely given.

“Don’t tell her,” she added.

Tian Ning, unconcerned with appearances, asked Su Qing, “Can I really walk on water?”

“Of course.” Su Qing had seen it—ice forming under Tian Ning’s feet, freezing the sea. She’d wanted to sing then.

“If you say I can, I can,” Tian Ning trusted, then asked, “What do I say to them?”

“Use Wenhui’s old excuse,” Su Qing replied.

…

On the raft, the girls, emboldened, raised their oars to smash the paper barrier—

A cold wind swept from the distant sea.

Someone sneezed, lowering her oar, rubbing her nose. “So cold—why’s it suddenly freezing?”

Her companion tugged her sleeve, pointing. “Look! Who’s that?”

A woman approached, in splendid robes, adorned with gems, her black hair like ebony, skin like snow, brows like ink, eyes like stars. Golden ornaments gleamed at her temples, enhancing her sacred aura.

As she neared, the girls’ breaths caught.

“We sisters were praised for beauty in our villages,” one murmured, “but seeing her, I know true beauty.”

More astonishingly, she walked on water like the Flower God. Unlike the Goddess’s soft waves, ice flowers bloomed beneath her feet.

Perhaps a servant of the Flower God.

One girl, recovering from Tian Ning’s beauty, boldly asked, “Are you a sister under the Flower God, here about these paper cuttings to aid us?”

Tian Ning accepted the role instantly, nodding. “Yes.”

Her voice was cold, but the girls saw no issue. With the Flower God’s sea-walking skill and such beauty, she must be a lesser deity.

“These paper cuttings…” Tian Ning, unaware of their origin—unplanned in their strategy—paused, then said, “The Flower God sent them. She pities your youth, parted from family, and sent these paper children and me to urge you back.”

“But!” the girls frowned. “We’re willing to serve the Flower God!”

Su Qing had anticipated this. Tian Ning recited her prepared response confidently: “No need to worry. After your lives end, the Flower God will take your souls to join her in paradise.” @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

The girls exchanged glances, swayed. They didn’t want to leave home young, never to return, but also didn’t want to hinder the island’s gratitude to the Flower God.

This compromise satisfied them. Reluctantly yet relieved, they prepared to turn back.

“Thank you, Ice Flower Sister, for delivering the message,” they said, clasping hands. “Tell the Flower God we’re grateful.”

“We misjudged you,” they added, bowing to the blocking paper figures. “Don’t hold it against us. We’ll make more companions for you when we’re back!”

The girls rowed back joyfully, their earlier anxiety replaced by lightness, hearts floating like the waves.

Tian Ning, relieved, returned across the ice. Beating someone was easier than this.

She shed the jewelry and robes, reporting, “They’re heading back.”

Su Qing relaxed slightly. “Good. We’ve arranged people to receive them—they’ll be fine.”

Xiao’e’s heart settled, staring at the ice flowers on Tian Ning’s hem, lost in thought.

Zhang Wenhui, resolved not to question their origins, ignored their supernatural feats. The stronger they were, the better their chances against the demon—a boon.

Xiao’e stayed silent, steering the boat toward Zhang Wenhui’s directed path.

Su Qing, observing the surroundings, exclaimed, “The paper cuttings are following us.”

Faded cuttings, like pale little figures, trailed behind, their intent unclear—friend or foe.

“Ignore them,” Zhang Wenhui said. “Head that way. One more day to the demon’s lair. Stay cautious.”

It had been nearly fifty years since she was here, yet Zhang Wenhui marveled at her clear memory.

…

After nearly three days, they reached the Narrow Sky, the treacherous rapids Zhang Wenhui described.

Towering sea cliffs stood close, a mere meter-wide gap revealing the sky.

The sea surged through, wild as galloping horses, compressed in the canyon into a frenzied torrent. Waves crashed against smooth rocks, turning to fine mist.

The terrain created swirling vortices, devouring anything near.

Ordinary ships couldn’t pass—approaching meant sinking.

The Dragon Boat, remarkably, began to sway, jolting the group. They gripped the sides to steady themselves.

“Hold tight, move to the center!” Xiao’e shouted.

Su Qing complied, noticing the paper figures halting before the rapids, too timid to approach. A dozen braver ones tried crossing but were shredded instantly.

Yet they persisted, clustering into clumps or linking hands, desperately trying to pass.

Almost pitiful.

Su Qing sensed they followed for the demon.

She also felt drawn to the paper cuttings. Her “mother” had stressed their importance for blessings and protection.

In the illusion, indecision could trap them forever.

But Su Qing wasn’t afraid—she had the answer beside her.

Following it, how could she fail?

Amid the crashing waves, she called to Xiao’e, “Tian Ge, the paper cuttings—should we bring them along?”

“Me?” Xiao’e glanced at the tattered figures. Decisive, she said, “Bring them. They’re our prayer cuttings—they mean no harm!”

Su Qing, without hesitation, tossed a sturdy rope backward. The cuttings grabbed it, climbing toward the boat, plastering themselves to its sides, turning the wooden vessel paper-like.

Once aboard, Xiao’e turned the helm, charging through the Narrow Sky’s gap.

The Dragon Boat navigated precisely, jolted once by a reef. Thanks to its reinforced hull, they avoided disaster.

The paper figures, freed, drifted forward in pairs, hand in hand.

Five caves appeared, each leading elsewhere.

Zhang Wenhui frowned. “Fifty years ago, there was only one!”

A cunning rabbit has three burrows, but a paranoid fish had dug five in fifty years to hide.

Not surprising.

Oddly, the paper figures, ignoring the others, swarmed toward the second cave from the left.

Su Qing decided instantly, “Follow the cuttings.”

The Dragon Boat entered the second cave. The demon’s size required a wide enough passage for a small boat.

Deeper in, seven identical openings branched off.

Another choice.

Following the cuttings, they turned at the second bend. The cave grew dark as night. Su Qing lit a prepared candle, its faint yellow glow a lone spark in the vast sea.

Water dripped from the rocky ceiling, chilling Su Qing as it hit her.

Further on, nine identical openings appeared. They followed the cuttings through nine choices until the path straightened.

Three burrows? This fish had built a labyrinth.

The boat glided steadily, silent but for the water’s flow. They held their breath, tense.

A growing stench signaled their arrival at the fish demon’s lair.

Su Qing signaled. Xiao’e stopped the boat at a corner. Everyone froze, wishing even their heartbeats would still.

In the cave’s depths, a pair of massive yellow eyes glowed, their eerie presence thick with the stench.

A raspy voice hissed, “You’ve found my lair! Quite the feat!”