Mei Hua lifted her pipa lute onto her lap and gently ran her fingers over it. After a moment, she strummed a note. A small frown appeared on her face at the off-key note. She spent the next several minutes tuning it until she was satisfied with the sound.

It had been a long time since she’d played. 

When Jin fell asleep, the bulk of the governing fell on her shoulders. Then there was one disaster after another. She simply didn’t have the time to play while dealing with so many problems.

When her sons started waking up, she could finally rest a little. It was just that every time she picked up her pipa, someone came over and interrupted her. If she didn’t know the people involved, she’d have sworn it was done intentionally!

Then her dear friend died.

Any desire to play was snuffed out.

Now, a year later, she felt like playing again.

She’d kicked everyone out of her courtyard and locked herself up in her room. This time she made sure no one would interrupt her, unless, of course, they were willing to risk a beating.

Sitting at the edge of her bed with her husband sleeping next to her, she plucked a cord.

Nodding in approval at the sound, her fingers began to move. Her hands moved stiffly at first, the muscles having long forgotten how to play. But as she went through familiar scores, the stiffness faded.

She hummed along with the pipa and then, having finished a melody, looked at her husband with an amused expression.

“I remember you liked this one when I was young.” 

Having said so, she plucked her lute and began to sing: 

“In the mountains peaks and in their valleys low, who sees the deer leap fleetly, upon rock and grassy knoll?

Congregating where they please, their soft ears stately drawn, none can catch them unaware as they traverse along.

O, doe of charming beauty!

O, buck of renown might!

O, deer of unearthly wisdom, 

Hear this one’s plight!

Tell this little one your secrets.

Tell this little one your ways.

That all the mountain’s glories,

This one too may see some day…”

***

The mountains were quiet.

Jin walked along well worn paths. He reached out and touched the thick leaves covering a tree branch near him. Sunlight filtered through the branches and dazzled his eyes. When he moved to block the light with his hand, a flash of puzzlement appeared on his face. 

When did his appendages ever look like this?

Four fingers and a thumb. Hairless. Tan. Completely lacking in proper claws. 

He felt as though he’d forgotten something but the more he thought about it, the less he could remember.

His human appearance faded and he was back to that which he was most familiar: a stoic and noble buck made of spirit.

Time seemed to be very long and very short. He kept walking and walking, but he didn’t know where he was going or why. It just felt normal to move around, so he did.

He saw a rabbit run past him, chased shortly after by a fox. He looked up, watching as a flock of birds were disturbed from their perches and leapt into the air, flying away all at once. There were so  many they blotted out the sun’s light for a moment. Then he came near a winding river and saw a fat bear waddle over. The bear looked at the fishes swimming around in the water with greedy eyes.

It was all very familiar. He’d seen it many, many times before.

But there was no noise to anything he saw and every action had no feeling to it. In his muddled state, it took him a while to put a word to what he was experiencing: 

Isolation.

The moment he thought the word, the feeling of being cut off seemed to increase ten-fold.

The familiar world around him began to fade, the vibrant life seemed to drain of its color.

An anguished question burst into the stillness:

“Where are you?”

But there was no answer.

He knew why, he knew but… he didn’t want to think about it.

But denial didn’t save him from the truth. 

Reality nibbled away at his mind and his heart. 

From the inescapable truth came a tsunami of uncontrollable feelings. 

Regret.

Fear.

Loneliness. 

His internal instability began to cause his appearance to change: a bear, a wolf, a tiger, a buck…. Somehow all of them and none of them at the same time. 

Who am I?

The feelings of wrongness piled up inside him until they caused a physical heaviness and his legs buckled and he stumbled to a forest floor he couldn’t feel. He lay there, paralyzed by the weight of what he couldn’t escape, trapped in a vicious cycle that seemed to have no end.

Faintly, a trembling voice could be heard speaking, “Oh Emperor of the Great Mountains...”

‘Who are you?’

“...please forgive me for trespassing on your land.”

‘Why would you want to come here?’

“I humbly request safe passage on your land.” 

‘There is no point in asking me.’

“If you tell me no, I will leave this very moment.” 

‘How can I tell you no when you can neither hear or see me?’

“But--but if you’d be so kind as to let me stay, I’d be very grateful.”

‘What good is your gratitude to me?’

He focused on that weak, shaking voice and saw a very small human curled up in a ball, forehead touching the leafy forest floor.

Vaguely he recalled what he knew about humans: mature ones were taller than a standing bear and they lived in herds like goats. The young stayed close to their birth parents in a similar way as many warm-blooded animals. 

This human was probably very young, too young to be away from the herd. Had it been rejected by its birth parent? That sometimes happened. Or had it got lost? No, it came here with a purpose. It had either been rejected or it had left.

How desperate must it be, to come to this place and beg him for mercy? He’d killed so many humans now, they’d stopped coming. They were afraid of him, as they should be.

For the first time in a long time he felt a reason to move. He inched forward, step by step, to where that little human was cowering.

He would just… take a peek, just once.

Its inner light was small and trembling, more fragile than the last leaf in autumn clinging to it’s branch. Though it was weak beyond words, the light was clear. Any disgusting blotches common to mankind were so faint they were barely visible.

Not a threat.

That little human saw him and tensed, obviously frightened.

It saw him?

How did it see him?

The young could see the fairies, but never him.

Curious.

I want to know.

Distraction.

I want to forget.

Silence.

I want sound.

How does one converse with humans? 

He thought for a moment.

That nagging leaf liked humans. What had he said when dealing with them?

Oh yes: I never give a human anything for free. Things given away are treated carelessly by them. While things with a price are inversely treasured. It’s always beneficial for me to demand something from them. How else will they know what an honor it is to even converse with a fairy?

Who knew that nagging leafs’ endless ability to talk could turn up something useful?

Pleased, he asked the little human:

“What will you give me in return?”

“G-give?”

“You think you can enter my mountain for free?”

“A-are you th-the Fairy Emperor?”

Is that what they called him? 

He didn’t know because he’d never bothered with humans until now.

But it sounded lofty and high.

Then, he would accept the name.

“I am.”

“I d-don’t know what to g-give you, sir. I’m v-very poor but w-whatever I have I-I’ll give. What d-do you want?” 

It showed him some woven plants made into flat pieces, some more bits of plants and shriveled meats, and a sharp piece of shaped ore. 

He stared at the offering, dumbfounded.

Did it really come with just this? 

Humans already were clawless, hairless, and fangless. They always carried made-things to compensate for their many physical weaknesses. This one was very small, obviously young, making it more disadvantaged than usual. What did it think coming here, ill prepared like this?

“Why do you come to my mountain?” He asked and then pointed out sensibly, “You are small and weak and only the strong survive here.”

“My parents died. The people who took me in wish to sell me because they think I’m useless. But if I leave, I’ll be leaving the place I was born… Please, sir, please don’t make me go! I’ve nowhere else to go if you turn me out!”

Oh.  

It was an orphan.

He didn’t understand what it meant by “sell”, but from the context...

The orphans’ surrogate parents did not want it and were planning to send it far away from its birthplace.

Terrority was very important. Unfamiliar territory was filled with hidden dangers. To send one this young away to a foreign territory was basically sentencing them to death.

What was the point of the mature humans taking in this young one if they were just going to kill it? Even the dumbest animal knew that taking in another’s offspring meant raising it properly into adulthood. Even if a surrogate was entirely unfit for the job, they wouldn’t give up halfway!

He couldn’t be a surrogate. What did he know about raising a human? He was more likely to kill a human trying to raise it than if he simply ignored it. Usually killing a human was fine but….

If he killed this one, that would put him on the same level of the surrogates. He was better than any human, how could he tolerate being as heartless as them? 

It seemed this orphan lived somewhere nearby. Since the orphan could not remain in it’s birthplace due to the surrogates, it chose a place somewhere close by that was ruled by someone strong. That made sense, to seek out a strong protector when running from aggressors.

He wouldn’t allow those surrogates onto his land. Imagine how filthy they must be, to expel the young they chose to raise? His land was probably the safest place. It would be fine for it to stay, maybe until it was grown and was strong enough to leave....

Oh. 

But he’d asked this orphan to give him something before entering.

What could this reject possibly trade?

Practically speaking, there was no way it had anything of value!

The demand had been made, he couldn’t take it back. 

Arg, why did he take advice from that nagging leaf! 

He let out a sigh, annoyed at having backed himself into a corner.

Was there something that every human had, no matter how small their size, that they could give without it causing irreparable damage? And also something that might be interesting rather than annoying?

Humans had words, they had a voice. They didn’t lose anything important when talking, as far as he knew.

That person had said they could make noises like the birds with their voice. He’d never cared at the time. If it was like the birds, why not listen to the birds?

But now he felt numb to the singing of the birds. Perhaps the singing from some other creature would do as a replacement?

“Can you sing?”

“I-I know some songs, sir.”

Excellent! The problem is solved!

“Then sing for me every day and I will let you stay here.”

“Singing? Is that all?”

“Would you rather something else?”

Was there anything else this orphan could offer?!

“N-no, that’s fine.” 

What a relief! Then they were done.

He started moving away, thinking it was better to leave before he said anything else that might put him in a predicament. He was absolutely sure that annoying leaf would heckle him later for this entire conversation!

“Sir, Majesty Emperor, sir! What if I’m sick! Will you kick me out if I can’t sing if I’m sick?” 

He paused. Did he look like the type to be so nitpicky?!

Controlling himself, he replied, “I will allow exceptions for sickness.”

 “Er, one more thing sir.”

She had more? Orphan, I am trying to exit with grace and dignity, why won’t you let me?!

“What is it now?” 

“J-just to clarify. Do you need to be present for the singing to count?”

Do I look like a human that I’d have that kind of limitation?

“No. I will hear you, no matter how far I am from you.” 

Before she stops me again, let’s try to anticipate further questions.

“And I am only letting you stay, I am not giving you any particular protection. Expect no help from me concerning what you will eat or drink or where you will find shelter.” 

I wouldn’t know how to help you anyway. I don’t know enough about humans to raise one without accidently killing it.

What else is left that she could ask about? Ah!

“Once you leave, our deal is broken. Do you understand?” 

I’ll assume you’re strong enough to survive on your own once you leave.

“Yes, sir! Thank you sir! I’ll sing every day, sir, I promise!” 

It seemed she understood. Before she could think of anything else to ask, he made a hasty escape.

He’d not gone very far, by his measure, when a nagging leaf appeared in front of him:

“Are you REALLY letting a little girl stay here?”

Girl? Woman? Female? Ah, that person also called themselves that...

“What does it matter to you?”

“She’ll die if no one takes care of her.”

“And?”

“You shouldn’t let her in if you’re going to watch her die!”

“What do you expect of me? To be her surrogate parent? Do you think I care enough to raise one well?”

The nagging leaf paused. He tugged on his hair, frustrated.

“That's true. You never paid attention to humans.”

“Then there is no reason to nag me.”

“But—”

“Ye, if you mind her wellbeing so much, then go mind yourself into being her surrogate.”

Ye froze in surprise.

“You will let me???”

“Since when did you ask my permission for anything?”

“Ah, that’s true.” Ye eyed him wearily, “Why are you being so….. Generous?”

“It appears you want me to order you away from that… little girl.”

Ye jumped straight up in the air, shaking his head emphatically.

“No, no, no! Didn’t mean to disturb you! Have a nice day! Bye!”

Saying so, Ye made a beeline towards the orphaned girl.

He watched the little nagging leaf scurry away and felt like he’d proved himself better than a human.

After that the little girl kept their word. 

She sang, just like a bird.

No, better than a bird.

It didn’t matter where he was, he could hear the sound of her songs. Some of her songs he understood, as they were about the forest and the animals and the weather. But other times the songs were about things he didn’t understand, of human concepts he’d ignored in the past. At first he didn’t like them but, because he was listening anyway, he eventually decided to try to understand those too.

As time passed, he began staying closer and closer to where the little girl lived. 

Probably because of Ye, she’d found the cave that person had made all those years ago and had taken up residence.

And then, silence.

He waited and waited but there was no song.

Vaguely he remembered her question: Will you kick me out if I can’t sing if I’m sick?

Was she sick?

It was rare on the mountains, but the few animals who got sick were seriously ill and died.

Would she die?

No more songs?

Never again?

But now she was living in that cave, filled with that person’s essence.

He didn’t want to think too much about that person. Didn’t want to remember too much. It touched on something painful.

Ye didn’t come out. The little girl didn’t sing.

He circled and circled and finally gave up and decided to check.

Just check.

For a little bit.

Going into the cave was almost painful. Memories he wanted to forget, a better time, a worse time, the final time…. All crowded around and made his spirit feel pressed and smothered. His form shrank into fawn.

To keep himself from running away, he kept repeating to himself: I’m just checking. I’ll leave after checking.

Ye saw him and immediately demanded: “Why are you here?” 

It was so hard to be in this place, but he’d come anyway. Why couldn’t this stupid fairy be grateful?

“She did not sing, so I came.”

“You agreed that if she got sick, she wasn’t required to sing.”

“I did.”

“…so why ARE you here?”

Why was he being nagged about something he’d just explained?

“She did not sing, so I came.” 

“Since you’re here, why don’t you make yourself useful and heal her?”

Heal her?

Could I heal her?

He glanced over. 

The fragile light from all those years ago had grown strong. It was very like so many of the animals who lived on the mountains, who were nourished by his spirit and strengthened by his very existence.

Then…

It should be alright?

But….

This nagging leaf! He’d sacrificed every step to enter here and this stupid fairy hadn’t respected him at all for it! 

If he didn’t get some kind of revenge on Ye for treating him so poorly, he’d never feel rested after today.

“Why should I do any such thing?”

Apparently Ye really cared about the little girl. Instead of arguing he seriously thought it over.

“If you do, I’ll be respectful for a day.”

Amazing. So you can be respectful if you want but you choose to be a nagging, arrogant leaf?

“A full earth rotation.”

“A week.”

“Six full moons.”

“How about a month and I don’t act even more vicious after the time is up?”

Apparently he’d stepped on Ye’s bottom line. 

The last thing he wanted was three times the nagging after getting the respect he should have gotten for free.

“Agreed.”

Saying so, he walked over to the girl and stared down at her.

Truthfully, he didn’t know how to do this.

It was not his habit to heal things. There was a cycle to life and if he broke it to save some, many other things would die as a result. To keep things balanced, he generally did not interfere.

The deer were an exception, of course. A very long time ago he would heal his deer if they got sick. But that was indeed a long time ago, even by his reckoning. 

He looked very closely at the girl, trying to differentiate what belonged in her body and what did not. Thankfully human anatomy was similar to several animals he was familiar with so he was relieved to find out he had some idea what he was seeing.

To cure this, he needed to be careful. She was stronger than before, but that was no better than an ant’s strength to him. It would be easy to squish her.

He needed to be soft and light, like a cloud, like mist…

Exhaling, he spread himself as thinly as possible, and let himself get absorbed into her.

His essence went into the skin, the blood, through the organs, dragging along what did not belong as he passed through. Along the way, purely by accident, he brushed up against the small light that her songs had called  a “soul”.

There was a moment of panic, afraid that his touch had done catastrophic harm.

Instead he heard a “Thank you” come out of her chapped lips.

He looked down at her, completely surprised.

No harm done?

Really?

Before he could organize his thoughts, she’d fallen asleep. This time, a restful, healthy sleep.

He leaned his fawn shaped face a little closer to her’s, sniffing curiously. 

His touch really hadn’t done any harm!

No, in fact, didn’t it seem that her light was a little stronger now? It was slight, but he noticed it.

And that place where they’d touched tingled a bit. It took him a moment to realize he was feeling coldness, a sensation he’d not felt for so long he’d almost forgotten it.

Strange! Marvelous! Wonderful!

Were all humans like this? Or was it just her?

His size suddenly expanded, going from a fawn to a full grown stag. He turned to Ye and said in a good mood, “Visit more often, this next ‘month’. I desire conversation with you.”

When he saw Ye’s whole body stiffen and then watched him force himself to say politely, “My Lord speaks, this servant obeys” he felt even better about… everything.

He had walked in small and timid, but he walked out with his head held high.

After this, he wasn’t afraid of being near her. Before, he never got close enough to be seen. But now... now he didn’t hide himself. He would wander around nearby and he amused himself by running away whenever she tried to get close. It became a habit to watch her even when she wasn’t singing.

Then, one day, smoke billowed up from some place to the east of the mountains. 

Of course, he didn’t pay any attention. That fire was unlikely to make its way to his mountains and if, by chance, it did, it wouldn’t be the first fire to rage across the forest. Even if a fierce fire raged through, the forest would survive.

The little girl would be fine too, because she could run to her cave abode. 

Speaking of the little girl, the fire seemed to agitate her. At first he watched her response with mild interest, and then alarm. She almost ran right out of his territory!

He listened to the little girl and Ye talk, his expression sinking the longer the conversation went on. And then, to his utter astonishment, she left without looking back.

She just…… left.

And Ye, the troublemaking nag, bawled. Watching this obnoxious fairy crying was uncomfortable.

He walked over and asked, “Why did you let her leave if you were going to cry?”

“Haven’t you learned after all this time? Trapping them never works. They will leave in the end no matter what you do. The important thing is whether they love you or curse you when they go.”

An extremely unpleasant memory rose up in his mind at these words.

It was the last argument he had with that person.

After a bit he sneered.

Even if Ye was right, in the end, weren’t they both left behind? 

Though he thought he was right, he didn’t feel happy about it. He wandered around, feeling listless.

“Oh Fairy Emperor..”

His ear twitched.

“Ruler of the Great Mountains to the North and South…”

This sounded familiar.

“...please grant us safe passage through your forests.”

Who was “us”?

“We will stray neither to the right or the left, but follow the path before us, and find safe haven on the other side.”

So she was using him to help others. He should be angry… he should be but….

“Any price you ask, we will pay. Great Fairy Emperor, have mercy!”

He raised up his head, his body casting a strange shadow.

It is enough that you remembered me.

Unlike that nagging leaf, she knew how to ask for a favor.

Since she asked nicely, he would grant it.

He ignored the humans she brought, how ugly their souls were compared to hers, and guided them through.

She sang him a song in front of all those piddly humans she was guiding. Eventually they joined in and their voices mingled together, voices drifting in the peculiar air of the forest.

Such a strange sound they made, all together. 

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought so, as several of his deer came to watch. The oldest of them seemed most interested.

“It has been a long time since so many humans were allowed on the mountains.” The old buck commented, eyeing him curiously as he spoke. When he didn’t respond, the old buck continued, “I knew you had gotten in the habit of stal— watching, the human girl but I didn’t realize you also favored her.”

“How is it favoring her? She said she would pay any price to let them pass.”

 The old buck snorted but didn’t press any further. Unlike Ye, he knew how far to push and when to back down.

Soon the humans made it to the other side of the mountains, and the little girl went with them.

Before she left, she turned around and bowed deeply, “Today I know that not only is the Great Emperor mighty, he is benevolent. Your mercy, how can it ever be repaid? But inasmuch as we are able, we will try. What does the Great Emperor request as payment for safe passage?”

The old buck snorted again.

“What could a bunch of humans possibly give to the most powerful being on the mountain that he doesn’t already have?”

“Go over there and let them see you.”

“...what?”

“Go over there and let them see you. Just show them a glimpse.” He pushed the elderly deer. “Look impressive.”

It was clear the old buck didn’t understand and didn’t actually want to do it, but he did it anyway.

He went out to the edge of the forest and looked as elegant and magnificent as he could, doing exactly as ordered.

All the humans, except for the girl, fell down on their faces in fear. The old buck looked at them for a long moment and then at the girl, it’s eyes flashing suddenly.

When the old buck came back, he asked, referring to his eyes, “What was that all about?” 

The old buck stared at him oddly.

“She may never come back.” The buck pointed out instead of answering him. “Was it worth being merciful for someone so disloyal?”

“I never bound her to me. How could what she has done be classified as disloyalty?”

“....is that so?”

“It is so.”

“Will you miss her?”

He was silent for so long the old buck wondered if he wasn’t going to answer.

“...her songs. I’ll miss her songs.”

The old buck sighed heavily.

“If she comes back… maybe you should consider binding her to you so she doesn’t leave a second time.”

“Didn’t you say she wouldn’t come back?”

“Only that she might not. There is a chance.”

He thought for a moment.

“Do you mean I should trap her in the mountains if she comes back?”

“..no.”

“Then I don’t know how to do what you suggest without using force. She loved Ye but did not stay for him. What could I do to make her stay with me if even Ye was not enough?”

“You must think about it more carefully then,” The old buck said, “What is it humans need most, what does she need most? If you give her that, she will never leave, because she has no reason to leave. Only when you know what she needs, will you find your answer.”

“Do you know what she needs?”

“Me? How would I know?! Do I look like someone who spends time with humans?!”

“Why did you bother bringing it up if you don’t know either….”

The old buck snorted, “That chubby fairy, Ye, would know.”

He stiffened, indignant.

“You can’t seriously be recommending I ask him!”

“I was only suggesting it!” The old buck flicked his ear, annoyed. “There is only you and Ye who knows this specific human. If you won’t ask Ye, then like I said, you must think about it yourself.”

He let the old buck leave after that and fell into silent thought. The sun rose and fell, the moon waned and the stars sparkled, but he didn't pay any attention to it. For a long time he remained there, trying to figure out the riddle his oldest deer had left him. 

Finally, an idea came to him. It was such a basic thing that he wasn’t sure if he’d gotten it right. But though he had some confidence in the answer she didn’t return for him to try it.

He was getting discouraged, thinking ‘Why did I bother if she never comes back?’ when, without any warning, a familiar voice rang out, “Oh Great Fairy Emperor…”

His heart trembled.

“...Ruler of the Mountains to the North and the South…”

Could it be?

“....I come to you and beg permission for re-entry.”

She came back!

Oh, but why was he surprised?

My Mountain Flower always comes back to me.

A strong joy burst out of his chest and his eyes opened with the light of it.

***

Mei Hei strummed the final verse:

“—Can you hear me? Can you hear me?

This song I sing for you—”

She was in the middle of singing when an enormous gust of hot wind hit her, bowling her over where she sat with a startled cry, pipa lute flying out of her hands. The windows and door of her room burst open with a loud bang. Anything that was sitting on a shelf was carried away out the windows and door or smashed up against the walls.

As soon as the wind came, it stopped.

Mei Hua scrambled to her feet, not caring that she looked as messy as the room did, and ran to the bed. Jin had sat up, his eyes glowing an astonishingly bright molten gold. She leapt into his arms roughly and sobbed all over him, grief and joy mixing together.

He was stunned for only a moment and then wrapped his arms around her, his eyes returning to their normal blue-gold as he did.

“I heard you, Mountain Flower. I always hear your voice.”