Beware of chicken, p.6
Beware of Chicken, page 6
“Wha-uh? Not-maybe-nev—Meihua!” Meiling gasped, and her friend laughed merrily, the sound like tinkling chimes. She glared at her friend. “Not you too,” she whined. “I’m getting enough of that from Father! We haven’t done anything either, so wipe that knowing look off your face, you vile woman!”
“Oh, but you snuck out in the night with him,” Meihua sing-songed.
“Meihua, please,” she begged, her face red.
“All right, I’ll stop. All attack, no defence with you. You do like him, though, don’t you?”
Short, brown hair. Vibrant green eyes. That stupid grin. Her lips quirked up into a tiny smile.
“Oh, dear,” Meihua said, looking at her fondly. “You are smitten, Meimei. Almost as bad as I am for my darling—”
“Shaddup,” she grumbled back and drained the rest of her tea. Meihua giggled again, but obligingly finished up as well and needled her no further.
“Come on, I can’t deal with you anymore,” Meiling griped, but Meihua just smiled knowingly. “Let us get you to your darling—”
Suddenly, there was an acrid tang on the wind. The foul odour slid under the smell of earth she’d grown accustomed to. Blood and oil. An insidious, slimy thing, full of ill intent.
Qi.
The third time she had smelled it not coming out of a plant in so short a time.
Her head whipped around, and she saw the man. He was dressed in fine clothes, with two men standing on either side of him.
Her gut churned, and her spine tingled, as she got a very, very bad feeling about him. The same feeling she’d gotten, just before the man in the city killed that beggar child. His head started turning in her direction, and she looked away.
“Meihua. This way.” Meihua noticed her discomfort and obliged. They exited the small outdoor seating area swiftly. Meiling practically dragged her friend behind her through an alley on the way to the palace.
“Meimei, what’s going—”
“Qi. Cultivator. I know you think my nose is off on Jin, but please trust me on this,” she interrupted Meihua.
Meihua sighed. “All right. But I think you’ve read too many stories. Would someone dare do something like that?”
Meiling grimaced and kept walking to the palace.
“I hope we never find out.”
□
Meimei was looking off when we met up again at the Archive, all tense and angry. I asked her what was wrong but got a snappy “nothing” in response and decided to leave it.
The next few hours passed in silence, and we didn’t find anything on my root. I wasn’t bothered, and the hours of reading had bled some of the tension out of Meimei’s shoulders.
“It … wasn’t nothing.”
I gestured for her to continue.
“I can smell Qi.”
Huh, so that’s how she followed me.
“… and there’s a cultivator in Verdant Hill. He smells like oil and blood. He had nasty, almost evil, eyes too.”
Well, that’s not good.
“I’m probably just being paranoid … but I’m worried about Meihua. She’s in the palace right now, so there should be no problems … but …”
What? Sure, Meihua is kind of pretty, but would some asshole really try to just … take her? I poked at Rou’s memories. The memories painted an unpleasant picture in my head.
Meimei looked stressed and worried.
“C’mon,” I said after we put the scrolls away. “Let’s go pick up Meihua and … Tingfeng? We’ll have dinner together.”
She seemed surprised at my offer, her eyes widening a bit at the implied promise of protection. I didn’t know if I would be able to fight, but … well … I’d try, if something did happen. It’s the least I could do.
“Fine,” she muttered, still looking stressed. That wouldn’t do.
“My Lady Hong Meiling, would you do me the honour of dining with me tonight?” I asked with an exaggerated bow.
Her lips quirked up this time, and she gave me a half-hearted glare.
“Of course. Rou Jin, I would be honoured to dine with you.”
Ouch, I can feel the sarcasm.
It didn’t take long to reach the palace. Meihua seemed delighted to see us and immediately clasped arms with Meimei while I greeted Tingfeng.
We set off for dinner soon after.
→
“And then she called me—what was it again? Ah! I remember, it was a ‘wretched, pig-headed shit monkey?’ It was great!”
I slung my arm around Meimei’s shoulders and pulled her close while Tingfeng howled with laughter. Meimei rammed her elbow ineffectually into my side. She was turning so red, I thought she might have a stroke.
Okay, maybe I was being a bit overly familiar, but the girl was cute when her face turned red. Besides, while she was elbowing me, she wasn’t actually trying to pull away.
“Ah, I remember when she called me a worthless slug, sniffing around a lotus flower!” Tingfeng mused. “She was right, back then, and those words gave me the strength to earn my position if only to prove her wrong.”
Tingfeng grinned at Meimei, walking with Meihua arm in arm as they headed back to the inn. Sunset in the town was nice. There was a wonderful breeze flowing through the streets, and I was having fun with new friends for the first time in months. Maybe I was a little drunk on the atmosphere.
It was nice. People were nice. Not everybody was some power-obsessed asshole looking to defy the heavens. Meimei had given up trying to escape and was now just glaring half-heartedly at me—
She suddenly froze and paled.
My back itched.
Three men suddenly appeared in front of us, clearly looking for trouble. We were in a side street, and they’d come out from around the corners, cutting us off beside a small fruit tree and a couple of houses.
Are we getting mugged?
The leader, a man in silks, smiled. “I am Zang Li, Young Master of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. You, girl,” he said, pointing to Meihua. “Be honoured. I shall allow you to warm my bed tonight.”
I gaped at the sheer audacity. Seriously? People seriously did this shit? What the hell?! I could feel myself getting angry just looking at the smarmy fucker. He wanted to pull this shit? But I didn’t just launch myself at him. That would be stupid.
Something didn’t feel right. My ability to sense other people’s Qi wasn’t the greatest, but I could tell something was off.
“Do his lackeys have Qi?” I whispered to Meimei. She sniffed and nodded. I could feel how tense she was, from where my hand was on her arm.
“Not much, compared to you,” she bit back tersely.
Well, that settled it, then. If these assholes had less Qi than me, then they were definitely not part of the Shrouded Mountain. I could remember some of the Sect names, and those guys were supposed to be strong. Besides, I don’t think any member of Shrouded Mountain would be caught dead in the Azure Hills.
I took my arm off Meimei.
“No, she won’t be doing that,” I said simply.
“You dare oppose the Shrouded Mountain Sect?” the cultivator sneered, as if saying that would make me back off.
I scoffed. “You aren’t from the Shrouded Mountain Sect. And I doubt they’ll be happy about you using their name, buddy.”
The cultivator seemed stunned that somebody would openly defy him, freezing at the implied insult and glaring hard at me. What I said seemed to have cut pretty deep, because he grimaced, snapping his fingers. His buddies grinned and drew swords, stalking towards us menacingly.
They twirled their weapons and jumped at me, but hell, even I was more than a match for them. They were certainly slower than that big wolf I’d brained in Hong Yaowu—that poor pup had the mange or something, and it was still better than these guys.
I stepped forwards and grabbed both of their heads, weaving my arms around their blades. They barely had time to process the fact I had grabbed them before I slammed them together, their skulls making nasty cracks as they met. I tossed them towards their boss, and he didn’t even try to catch them. They hit the ground hard and twitched for a moment, before going still. I waited for them to get back up, but they just laid there, out cold. I shook my head and started towards the fuckboy playing at being a Young Master. He was glaring again, his eyes full of anger at my swift defeat of his stooges.
A breath later, Qi exploded around him. It flowed around his body, a sheath of lightning and little drops of darkness.
I paused, a bit worried at the development. Even I could feel that. Hell, I could see that.
“You bastard, you’re courting death!” he roared. “Behold the technique that slew a cultivator in the Profound Realm! My ultimate spear!”
A chill ran down my spine at his words. The fear came rushing back. But there was no running away now.
[Heaven Piercing Lance!]
Oh shit, he’s fast—I didn’t have time to block. He moved quickly enough that he was just a blur, his fingers aiming for my heart. I gathered my Qi in defence for the first time since I came here. Rou’s memories on how to reinforce my body properly came easily.
I pulled. I pulled my Qi from my core, from my dantian, and formed a lattice of interconnecting threads in my chest.
I felt solid. Sturdy. I hoped it was enough.
Zang Li came in like a meteor, trailing lightning and black fire. His eyes were deadly and focused. He hit me in the chest, fingers swirling with sharp Qi. My feet dug into the cobblestone street. My Qi … it felt like a pump connected to a deep well. My Qi surged and gushed like a broken fire hydrant, swelling up to block the blow.
Zang Li roared, pushing forwards.
His fingers hit my chest bent backwards—like, the wrong way, backwards. The Qi sheathing his hands guttered out.
We both stared at his hand for a moment in incredulous shock. There wasn’t a mark on my chest. Just his palm and broken fingers pressed against my skin.
He fell back and started screaming, holding his wrist.
The fuck? … how much of a shitter can you be?! Profound my ass.
I gave him a good smack for being an idiot, sending him slumping down to the ground. Then I walked forwards and collected his lackeys, slinging them all onto my shoulders. They were pretty light.
“Hey, Tingfeng?” I asked.
“Y-yes?” he choked out.
“Where’s the jail?” It wouldn’t be able to hold a proper cultivator, but none of these guys were proper cultivators. The man quickly gathered himself.
“Right this way, Brother Jin!” he called out, taking the lead. I raised my eyebrow at the term of respect but didn’t say anything otherwise.
I hope I can convince the captain of the guard to just say I was a wandering cultivator. Say I left town after this. I don’t want any douche nozzles to come and try to find me in case he has friends.
□
Meiling stared around the street with incredulous eyes as the men went off, heading towards the jail. What was once pristine and well maintained had changed. Grass and flowers had sprouted from around every stone. The tree nearby, preparing for the fall, had grown and blossomed. The wooden buildings closest to the impact point had started growing branches with tiny leaves poking off them.
It looked like the town had been abandoned for nature to reclaim over the course of a hundred years.
Meihua seemed just as stunned as Meiling was. It wasn’t every day somebody challenged a man who moved faster than the eye could track to defend your virtue.
“Told you my nose wasn’t off,” Meiling said, feeling a bit faint.
CHAPTER 7
COUNTRY ROADS
It was an honour meeting you, Brother Jin.” Tingfeng clasped his hands before him. “I pray that you will do us the honour of attending our marriage after the harvest.”
I made the appropriate gestures. “I will not miss it, Brother Tingfeng,” I said, and I meant it. Meihua and Tingfeng were good people. “But are you sure about these?”
By these, I meant the two young pigs I had been gifted. I had been planning to build some actual pens and maybe a barn first, but one does not refuse generosity lightly. Especially after a man swears to be your brother for the rest of time and then pledges if I ever needed his services he would answer without hesitation. It had been a bit awkward. I had never, never really been one for grand oaths or displays.
Eh, at least I found the music shop while he’d been haggling with the person who sold him the pigs. A pipa was kinda like a banjo … right?
“Brother Jin, for what you did for us, I would buy you a thousand more, and it still would not be enough repayment.”
I sighed internally. Well, all right then. I hope Tingfeng doesn’t beggar himself by repaying everybody as extravagantly as he says he would. He did it even after I said he didn’t need to do anything for me. Fake boy was in prison and shackled with about ten “Spirit Restrainers,” some kind of Qi-suppression artifact that only worked if people were low level in their cultivation. People, like me, in the Initiate’s Realm. Rou had often been called “barely a cultivator” when he was in the Sect because he’d been so low. Personally, I thought it was a bit overkill for such a weak person, but eh, better safe than sorry I guess.
We were all in reasonably good spirits as we set out back along the road to Meimei’s village. Xian Jr. was all over my back again, asking me to show him how I’d defeated the bad guys, and I obligingly showed him several kung-fu moves I remembered from badly translated movies.
He laughed at my “Hooahs!” and “Whatchas!” and little flips.
↔
It was a beautiful night. The moon was bright and full, and lightning bugs danced in the air for what would likely be one of the last times before fall truly set in. If she was a poet, she might have been inspired by the scene. As it was, she was just content with what she could see. They were camped at the foot of one of the hills, and Jin had climbed higher up to get a better view.
“Meimei …” her father ventured.
She looked at him, absentmindedly stirring the stew she was cooking for their dinner. “Yes, Father?” she asked.
“I wanted to apologize to you, Daughter. I did not take your words with the consideration they were due and have shamed myself.” He bowed his head slightly to her in regret.
While a part of Meiling was hurt that nobody had believed her, the other part understood that what she had said had been simply unbelievable. Jin certainly did not act like any cultivator she’d heard of. “I forgive you, Father.”
“What did he get up to, that night in the forest?” he asked after a moment. “ Was it a wolf?”
Meiling looked up at the sky. “It wasn’t a wolf. It was … the Wicked Blade.”
There was silence as her father stared at her. “The Wicked—are you sure?” he asked anxiously.
Meiling nodded. “I recognized the size and coloration, as well as its patchy fur.”
Her father paled and then let out a shaky laugh. “Well, we are truly blessed by heaven, then.”
They sat in silence until the stew was done. Meiling scooped up two bowls full and turned to her father. “I’ll take this to Jin.” She gestured up the hill nearest them. “He isn’t too far.”
Her father nodded but spoke up when she started to walk away. “Be careful, Meimei. Although …” He sighed. “He seems like a virtuous man.”
There was an odd inflection to his voice. Half resigned, half hopeful. Years of matchmaking had already failed … and this sounded like permission.
Her cheeks tinted red at the thought. “We barely know each other, Father,” she objected, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was curious. Curious about what could produce a man like that.
Her father, however, simply raised an eyebrow at her.
The trek up the hill was relatively easy, even with the trees and rocks in the way while she held onto two bowls of stew. She filled her nose with the night air and opened her ears until she found him. He was sitting on a large rock, instrument in hand.
He had his tongue stuck out in concentration as he tried to play a tune she’d never heard before on a pipa. He was holding the instrument wrong, to the side over his knee, rather than upright, and kept hitting bum notes or messing up the chords.
“Jin, I brought you dinner,” she said quietly.
He started, surprised to see her, and then put his instrument to the side. He hopped off the rock, quite a distance, and landed effortlessly. “Thank you, Meiling,” he said earnestly.
“So you did remember my name,” she mock-scolded, and he grinned at her.
“Of course I remembered, Meimei,” he said with a smirk, reaching out to take the bowl from her, though he paused and glanced back up at the rock. He chewed his lip. “W-want to come up top with me?” he asked after a moment, seeming suddenly bashful. His face was a little red from the embarrassment.
It was kind of cute.
“I’d love to,” she replied, a bit bashful herself. She had little experience besides stories for this kind of thing. He smiled brightly at her acceptance, and he was once more his more sure self. He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, and jumped. He alighted on the rock with far more gentleness than she’d anticipated.
The view from the top of the rock was spectacular. It jutted out from the hillside into a gap in the trees, allowing one to see out across the rest of the hills, illuminated by the full moon.
They sat in companionable silence on the rock, eating their dinner and taking in the view. She was rather gratified by the small sounds of enjoyment coming from him as he ate.
“What song were you trying to play? I’ve never heard it before,” she finally asked, and his face flushed thoroughly this time.
“It’s a song I heard in my … childhood,” he explained. “It’s sung in a language, not of the … Empire.”
“Truly? I thought there was only one language men spoke.” Meiling was intrigued, but she supposed it made sense.
“Mmm. The man who taught me this song was from somewhere very, very far away.”
There was a cool breeze through the trees, and Meiling leaned up against him for warmth. Jin’s arm settled around her waist and pulled her slightly closer.
“Oh, but you snuck out in the night with him,” Meihua sing-songed.
“Meihua, please,” she begged, her face red.
“All right, I’ll stop. All attack, no defence with you. You do like him, though, don’t you?”
Short, brown hair. Vibrant green eyes. That stupid grin. Her lips quirked up into a tiny smile.
“Oh, dear,” Meihua said, looking at her fondly. “You are smitten, Meimei. Almost as bad as I am for my darling—”
“Shaddup,” she grumbled back and drained the rest of her tea. Meihua giggled again, but obligingly finished up as well and needled her no further.
“Come on, I can’t deal with you anymore,” Meiling griped, but Meihua just smiled knowingly. “Let us get you to your darling—”
Suddenly, there was an acrid tang on the wind. The foul odour slid under the smell of earth she’d grown accustomed to. Blood and oil. An insidious, slimy thing, full of ill intent.
Qi.
The third time she had smelled it not coming out of a plant in so short a time.
Her head whipped around, and she saw the man. He was dressed in fine clothes, with two men standing on either side of him.
Her gut churned, and her spine tingled, as she got a very, very bad feeling about him. The same feeling she’d gotten, just before the man in the city killed that beggar child. His head started turning in her direction, and she looked away.
“Meihua. This way.” Meihua noticed her discomfort and obliged. They exited the small outdoor seating area swiftly. Meiling practically dragged her friend behind her through an alley on the way to the palace.
“Meimei, what’s going—”
“Qi. Cultivator. I know you think my nose is off on Jin, but please trust me on this,” she interrupted Meihua.
Meihua sighed. “All right. But I think you’ve read too many stories. Would someone dare do something like that?”
Meiling grimaced and kept walking to the palace.
“I hope we never find out.”
□
Meimei was looking off when we met up again at the Archive, all tense and angry. I asked her what was wrong but got a snappy “nothing” in response and decided to leave it.
The next few hours passed in silence, and we didn’t find anything on my root. I wasn’t bothered, and the hours of reading had bled some of the tension out of Meimei’s shoulders.
“It … wasn’t nothing.”
I gestured for her to continue.
“I can smell Qi.”
Huh, so that’s how she followed me.
“… and there’s a cultivator in Verdant Hill. He smells like oil and blood. He had nasty, almost evil, eyes too.”
Well, that’s not good.
“I’m probably just being paranoid … but I’m worried about Meihua. She’s in the palace right now, so there should be no problems … but …”
What? Sure, Meihua is kind of pretty, but would some asshole really try to just … take her? I poked at Rou’s memories. The memories painted an unpleasant picture in my head.
Meimei looked stressed and worried.
“C’mon,” I said after we put the scrolls away. “Let’s go pick up Meihua and … Tingfeng? We’ll have dinner together.”
She seemed surprised at my offer, her eyes widening a bit at the implied promise of protection. I didn’t know if I would be able to fight, but … well … I’d try, if something did happen. It’s the least I could do.
“Fine,” she muttered, still looking stressed. That wouldn’t do.
“My Lady Hong Meiling, would you do me the honour of dining with me tonight?” I asked with an exaggerated bow.
Her lips quirked up this time, and she gave me a half-hearted glare.
“Of course. Rou Jin, I would be honoured to dine with you.”
Ouch, I can feel the sarcasm.
It didn’t take long to reach the palace. Meihua seemed delighted to see us and immediately clasped arms with Meimei while I greeted Tingfeng.
We set off for dinner soon after.
→
“And then she called me—what was it again? Ah! I remember, it was a ‘wretched, pig-headed shit monkey?’ It was great!”
I slung my arm around Meimei’s shoulders and pulled her close while Tingfeng howled with laughter. Meimei rammed her elbow ineffectually into my side. She was turning so red, I thought she might have a stroke.
Okay, maybe I was being a bit overly familiar, but the girl was cute when her face turned red. Besides, while she was elbowing me, she wasn’t actually trying to pull away.
“Ah, I remember when she called me a worthless slug, sniffing around a lotus flower!” Tingfeng mused. “She was right, back then, and those words gave me the strength to earn my position if only to prove her wrong.”
Tingfeng grinned at Meimei, walking with Meihua arm in arm as they headed back to the inn. Sunset in the town was nice. There was a wonderful breeze flowing through the streets, and I was having fun with new friends for the first time in months. Maybe I was a little drunk on the atmosphere.
It was nice. People were nice. Not everybody was some power-obsessed asshole looking to defy the heavens. Meimei had given up trying to escape and was now just glaring half-heartedly at me—
She suddenly froze and paled.
My back itched.
Three men suddenly appeared in front of us, clearly looking for trouble. We were in a side street, and they’d come out from around the corners, cutting us off beside a small fruit tree and a couple of houses.
Are we getting mugged?
The leader, a man in silks, smiled. “I am Zang Li, Young Master of the Shrouded Mountain Sect. You, girl,” he said, pointing to Meihua. “Be honoured. I shall allow you to warm my bed tonight.”
I gaped at the sheer audacity. Seriously? People seriously did this shit? What the hell?! I could feel myself getting angry just looking at the smarmy fucker. He wanted to pull this shit? But I didn’t just launch myself at him. That would be stupid.
Something didn’t feel right. My ability to sense other people’s Qi wasn’t the greatest, but I could tell something was off.
“Do his lackeys have Qi?” I whispered to Meimei. She sniffed and nodded. I could feel how tense she was, from where my hand was on her arm.
“Not much, compared to you,” she bit back tersely.
Well, that settled it, then. If these assholes had less Qi than me, then they were definitely not part of the Shrouded Mountain. I could remember some of the Sect names, and those guys were supposed to be strong. Besides, I don’t think any member of Shrouded Mountain would be caught dead in the Azure Hills.
I took my arm off Meimei.
“No, she won’t be doing that,” I said simply.
“You dare oppose the Shrouded Mountain Sect?” the cultivator sneered, as if saying that would make me back off.
I scoffed. “You aren’t from the Shrouded Mountain Sect. And I doubt they’ll be happy about you using their name, buddy.”
The cultivator seemed stunned that somebody would openly defy him, freezing at the implied insult and glaring hard at me. What I said seemed to have cut pretty deep, because he grimaced, snapping his fingers. His buddies grinned and drew swords, stalking towards us menacingly.
They twirled their weapons and jumped at me, but hell, even I was more than a match for them. They were certainly slower than that big wolf I’d brained in Hong Yaowu—that poor pup had the mange or something, and it was still better than these guys.
I stepped forwards and grabbed both of their heads, weaving my arms around their blades. They barely had time to process the fact I had grabbed them before I slammed them together, their skulls making nasty cracks as they met. I tossed them towards their boss, and he didn’t even try to catch them. They hit the ground hard and twitched for a moment, before going still. I waited for them to get back up, but they just laid there, out cold. I shook my head and started towards the fuckboy playing at being a Young Master. He was glaring again, his eyes full of anger at my swift defeat of his stooges.
A breath later, Qi exploded around him. It flowed around his body, a sheath of lightning and little drops of darkness.
I paused, a bit worried at the development. Even I could feel that. Hell, I could see that.
“You bastard, you’re courting death!” he roared. “Behold the technique that slew a cultivator in the Profound Realm! My ultimate spear!”
A chill ran down my spine at his words. The fear came rushing back. But there was no running away now.
[Heaven Piercing Lance!]
Oh shit, he’s fast—I didn’t have time to block. He moved quickly enough that he was just a blur, his fingers aiming for my heart. I gathered my Qi in defence for the first time since I came here. Rou’s memories on how to reinforce my body properly came easily.
I pulled. I pulled my Qi from my core, from my dantian, and formed a lattice of interconnecting threads in my chest.
I felt solid. Sturdy. I hoped it was enough.
Zang Li came in like a meteor, trailing lightning and black fire. His eyes were deadly and focused. He hit me in the chest, fingers swirling with sharp Qi. My feet dug into the cobblestone street. My Qi … it felt like a pump connected to a deep well. My Qi surged and gushed like a broken fire hydrant, swelling up to block the blow.
Zang Li roared, pushing forwards.
His fingers hit my chest bent backwards—like, the wrong way, backwards. The Qi sheathing his hands guttered out.
We both stared at his hand for a moment in incredulous shock. There wasn’t a mark on my chest. Just his palm and broken fingers pressed against my skin.
He fell back and started screaming, holding his wrist.
The fuck? … how much of a shitter can you be?! Profound my ass.
I gave him a good smack for being an idiot, sending him slumping down to the ground. Then I walked forwards and collected his lackeys, slinging them all onto my shoulders. They were pretty light.
“Hey, Tingfeng?” I asked.
“Y-yes?” he choked out.
“Where’s the jail?” It wouldn’t be able to hold a proper cultivator, but none of these guys were proper cultivators. The man quickly gathered himself.
“Right this way, Brother Jin!” he called out, taking the lead. I raised my eyebrow at the term of respect but didn’t say anything otherwise.
I hope I can convince the captain of the guard to just say I was a wandering cultivator. Say I left town after this. I don’t want any douche nozzles to come and try to find me in case he has friends.
□
Meiling stared around the street with incredulous eyes as the men went off, heading towards the jail. What was once pristine and well maintained had changed. Grass and flowers had sprouted from around every stone. The tree nearby, preparing for the fall, had grown and blossomed. The wooden buildings closest to the impact point had started growing branches with tiny leaves poking off them.
It looked like the town had been abandoned for nature to reclaim over the course of a hundred years.
Meihua seemed just as stunned as Meiling was. It wasn’t every day somebody challenged a man who moved faster than the eye could track to defend your virtue.
“Told you my nose wasn’t off,” Meiling said, feeling a bit faint.
CHAPTER 7
COUNTRY ROADS
It was an honour meeting you, Brother Jin.” Tingfeng clasped his hands before him. “I pray that you will do us the honour of attending our marriage after the harvest.”
I made the appropriate gestures. “I will not miss it, Brother Tingfeng,” I said, and I meant it. Meihua and Tingfeng were good people. “But are you sure about these?”
By these, I meant the two young pigs I had been gifted. I had been planning to build some actual pens and maybe a barn first, but one does not refuse generosity lightly. Especially after a man swears to be your brother for the rest of time and then pledges if I ever needed his services he would answer without hesitation. It had been a bit awkward. I had never, never really been one for grand oaths or displays.
Eh, at least I found the music shop while he’d been haggling with the person who sold him the pigs. A pipa was kinda like a banjo … right?
“Brother Jin, for what you did for us, I would buy you a thousand more, and it still would not be enough repayment.”
I sighed internally. Well, all right then. I hope Tingfeng doesn’t beggar himself by repaying everybody as extravagantly as he says he would. He did it even after I said he didn’t need to do anything for me. Fake boy was in prison and shackled with about ten “Spirit Restrainers,” some kind of Qi-suppression artifact that only worked if people were low level in their cultivation. People, like me, in the Initiate’s Realm. Rou had often been called “barely a cultivator” when he was in the Sect because he’d been so low. Personally, I thought it was a bit overkill for such a weak person, but eh, better safe than sorry I guess.
We were all in reasonably good spirits as we set out back along the road to Meimei’s village. Xian Jr. was all over my back again, asking me to show him how I’d defeated the bad guys, and I obligingly showed him several kung-fu moves I remembered from badly translated movies.
He laughed at my “Hooahs!” and “Whatchas!” and little flips.
↔
It was a beautiful night. The moon was bright and full, and lightning bugs danced in the air for what would likely be one of the last times before fall truly set in. If she was a poet, she might have been inspired by the scene. As it was, she was just content with what she could see. They were camped at the foot of one of the hills, and Jin had climbed higher up to get a better view.
“Meimei …” her father ventured.
She looked at him, absentmindedly stirring the stew she was cooking for their dinner. “Yes, Father?” she asked.
“I wanted to apologize to you, Daughter. I did not take your words with the consideration they were due and have shamed myself.” He bowed his head slightly to her in regret.
While a part of Meiling was hurt that nobody had believed her, the other part understood that what she had said had been simply unbelievable. Jin certainly did not act like any cultivator she’d heard of. “I forgive you, Father.”
“What did he get up to, that night in the forest?” he asked after a moment. “ Was it a wolf?”
Meiling looked up at the sky. “It wasn’t a wolf. It was … the Wicked Blade.”
There was silence as her father stared at her. “The Wicked—are you sure?” he asked anxiously.
Meiling nodded. “I recognized the size and coloration, as well as its patchy fur.”
Her father paled and then let out a shaky laugh. “Well, we are truly blessed by heaven, then.”
They sat in silence until the stew was done. Meiling scooped up two bowls full and turned to her father. “I’ll take this to Jin.” She gestured up the hill nearest them. “He isn’t too far.”
Her father nodded but spoke up when she started to walk away. “Be careful, Meimei. Although …” He sighed. “He seems like a virtuous man.”
There was an odd inflection to his voice. Half resigned, half hopeful. Years of matchmaking had already failed … and this sounded like permission.
Her cheeks tinted red at the thought. “We barely know each other, Father,” she objected, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was curious. Curious about what could produce a man like that.
Her father, however, simply raised an eyebrow at her.
The trek up the hill was relatively easy, even with the trees and rocks in the way while she held onto two bowls of stew. She filled her nose with the night air and opened her ears until she found him. He was sitting on a large rock, instrument in hand.
He had his tongue stuck out in concentration as he tried to play a tune she’d never heard before on a pipa. He was holding the instrument wrong, to the side over his knee, rather than upright, and kept hitting bum notes or messing up the chords.
“Jin, I brought you dinner,” she said quietly.
He started, surprised to see her, and then put his instrument to the side. He hopped off the rock, quite a distance, and landed effortlessly. “Thank you, Meiling,” he said earnestly.
“So you did remember my name,” she mock-scolded, and he grinned at her.
“Of course I remembered, Meimei,” he said with a smirk, reaching out to take the bowl from her, though he paused and glanced back up at the rock. He chewed his lip. “W-want to come up top with me?” he asked after a moment, seeming suddenly bashful. His face was a little red from the embarrassment.
It was kind of cute.
“I’d love to,” she replied, a bit bashful herself. She had little experience besides stories for this kind of thing. He smiled brightly at her acceptance, and he was once more his more sure self. He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, and jumped. He alighted on the rock with far more gentleness than she’d anticipated.
The view from the top of the rock was spectacular. It jutted out from the hillside into a gap in the trees, allowing one to see out across the rest of the hills, illuminated by the full moon.
They sat in companionable silence on the rock, eating their dinner and taking in the view. She was rather gratified by the small sounds of enjoyment coming from him as he ate.
“What song were you trying to play? I’ve never heard it before,” she finally asked, and his face flushed thoroughly this time.
“It’s a song I heard in my … childhood,” he explained. “It’s sung in a language, not of the … Empire.”
“Truly? I thought there was only one language men spoke.” Meiling was intrigued, but she supposed it made sense.
“Mmm. The man who taught me this song was from somewhere very, very far away.”
There was a cool breeze through the trees, and Meiling leaned up against him for warmth. Jin’s arm settled around her waist and pulled her slightly closer.
