Wan Yu woke up feeling like he'd been run over by an ox.
Maybe two. Or more. Everything was sore to the point of pulsing.
He opened his eyes.
An inn…
Sunlight streamed in from the windows; the color was rather pale, like morning. He stared at it in a daze. After a while, the door opened— Yun Zisu walked in with a crowded tray, closing the door behind her with her elbow.
"G'morn."
She lit up, placing the things on the floor by the bed. "Oh, you're awake! That's good. You've been out for three days now, are you feeling any better? Actually, give me a minute, I'll come back with some food."
The tray she carried did have some water, but with it wasn't food, but a basin for washing and some bandages, ointments. She gave him the cup of water before leaving again, leaving him to sip on it bit by bit like a cat lapping on pooling rainwater. Ouch, his mouth felt so parched no amount of water seemed to relieve the thirst.
It wasn’t long before Yun Zisu came back with congee and some side dishes, a jug of water. Setting a small table on the bed, she placed the breakfast on it and sat down, smiling wide. Wan Yu started eating.
"So," she said. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I fell into a field and got plowed by an ox," he said, shrugging. He raised his left arm, too— it might’ve been bandaged, but the sharp stings that followed every movement told him it really was burnt by the lightning. "And that a certain snippy asshole went to town with burning my arm off. But it'll pass. How are things? How are those people?"
Yun Zisu gave him a sympathetic look before moving to rebandage his arm. Wan Yu inspected it as she did so, spooning the congee all the while. The wounds had all caked, and it didn’t look as bad as it felt— though it looked like he had tree roots imprinting an angry red up his arm, the open burns were concentrated nearer to the wrist, where these branches started. It only travelled up to his elbow. When he moved to poke it, Yun Zisu swatted his hand away.
"Stop that. It’s good enough that the blackness had gone away, it was initially black from resentment, you know? And they're fine; nobody sought them that night, and they were escorted back to town safe and sound. They're now sleeping where the Vermillion Sun Sect sleep, so nobody dares try anything. Everyone's kind of talking about you, though. Most of it are rumors, mostly false— they said that the creature was the one summoning the black lightning. It was visible from a town away, by the by."
One could only imagine what that battle must’ve looked like from afar, through the eyes of a normal person. A summer storm, rolling in as always, but then black lightning, irregular thunders, maybe even the sounds… Actually, he’d just realized that he had no idea how close that location was to the town. Then again, maybe not that close? Otherwise people would’ve found it earlier, no?
And Wan Yu realized now, too, that he had a lot of unanswered questions about the place. He remembered mostly flashes, especially after the entire cocooning thing. After that suffocation attempt, he was operating on pure instincts. But he did recall a thought about a village. Was it a village, though?
Yun Zisu shot him a look. “Don’t think too hard right now, you’re still recovering. Do you have questions?”
Wan Yu shook his head. "A bit later, I think. But yeah. Better have them think that. I'm more afraid of Vermillion Sun Sect telling everyone about me— that I'm, you know."
At that, Yun Zisu looked uncomfortable. "I… they haven't talked about the results yet, wanting to wait for you to wake up. I don't know much about the rest, to be honest. I'm sorry."
"Eh? Not your fault." Once he finished his food, Yun Zisu moved the plates to the side, then gestured to him to lean over. Wan Yu cocked his head but did as he was told. Only then did he realize— there was something stinging around his forehead, above his right eye. Yun Zisu dabbed the ointment on it with her little finger. “Did it sear off my eyebrow?”
“Just a little cut,” she said, smiling with satisfaction as she leaned back. “Makes you look more badass, if you ask me.”
Oh, to have a friend like Yun Zisu. He was pretty sure that even if he burnt off half his face she’d find some way to say something nice about it.
"By the way. Where's the other sword I had last time?" His eyes widened, worry clear in them. Yun Zisu paused from surprise. "You guys brought it back, right?"
Without waiting for an answer, Wan Yu patted his clothes, then the bed— when he rushed to move more, though, he froze up from pain shooting up his spine. Fuck. Okay, clearly he wasn’t hurt that bad, though? His arm screamed at him in response.
"We did, don't worry," Yun Zisu soothed, pushing him back until he lied down. She then fished out his things from a locked chest, handing a qiankun bag to him. "Here’s the rest of your belongings. But as for the sword, Ye-xiong hid it from the sect. Nobody knows about it. Is it something that you needed to keep a secret?"
In the middle of rummaging through his items, Wan Yu stilled. Huh? Since when did the pretty songbird Ye-xiong— well, actually, that made sense. Wan Yu didn't think that he knew what Storming Soul looked like, but as a sect leader he must've known that some things should never be publicized.
"Where is he now?"
"Next door. Do you want me to call for him now?"
"I just need the sword," Wan Yu said, "not the man."
Yun Zisu chuckled, giving him a fond look. Somehow, something about it made Wan Yu still, a shiver running down his spine.
“Ye-xiong is good to you ah,” she said, picking up the tray. “I know you two bicker sometimes, but I can see the little things too every now and then.”
Wan Yu, “......” What now?
"Err, Zisu, I think you might have the wrong idea about us," he said. “He's…”
A demonic sect leader, but he probably shouldn't disclose that. She'd worry, and he was worried her change in behavior would be obvious enough Ye-xiong figured she found out. Not that Wan Yu knew what the man would do in that case…
But how in the world did she mistake them as… in what universe was Ye-xiong ‘good to him’? The man threw him into that pit to fight alone, okay?! Where was he sweet at all? Wait, nevermind. The concept was giving him the shivers. Better not to think about it.
"Anyway, I need the sword back. Then I need your help. Pretty please?"
After another laugh, Yun Zisu nodded before leaving, closing the door with her foot.
Now alone, Wan Yu let out a loud sigh. How was he supposed to dispel her weird ideas? Yun Zisu liked to think the better of people, and he admitted that he did play a role in making it seem like Ye-xiong wasn’t anyone shady. But ah, no sense thinking about it now; he had no good options for the time being. He could think about how to break it to Zisu later. The pain was ebbing, sort of. It seemed like something was put in his food, that was nice. All right, back to his things.
His flute was there. Good, because he was about to need it. Oh, they put Silvergrass back in there too; he took it out, petting the scabbard, then withdrew the blade. There was some dried soil in the miniscule gaps of the wrapped leather. Pursing his lips, Wan Yu conjured some water— ouch, fuck, okay, his qi was out. Ah, what was he to do… pushing himself back up, he placed Silvergrass on his lap and started to meditate.
Time passed. After three knocks, the door opened.
“Wan Yu? Oh, you’re meditating. Sorry. Ye-xiong was rather busy.” Yun Zisu. In her hand was a plate of snacks; behind her was Ye Xiyang, fanning himself as always.
Wan Yu looked up. With a nod he turned, sitting facing them. He appeared much better, Yun Zisu noticed. It seemed like the meditation helped; made sense, given that he was severely drained, according to the sect physician’s diagnosis. Yun Zisu closed the door behind Ye Xiyang while the man strolled in.
“Thanks,” Wan Yu said to her. He turned to Ye Xiyang. “Can I have that sword back, please?”
Ye Xiyang pulled it out from his sleeve. “I wasn’t about to keep it, don’t worry.”
“You wouldn’t be able to use it without regretting it anyway,” Wan Yu said as he accepted it. Pulling it close to himself, he then inspected the pommel, hilt, and scabbard for dirt, brushing it off and coaxing it out with water whenever he found any. He then placed it on his lap, right in front of Silvergrass. “It’s Immortal Master Ning Shan’s personal jian, Storming Soul.”
Ah. Ye Xiyang had a hunch that was the case.
“But.” Wan Yu petted the crossguard, thumb rubbing the circular shape at its center. “The secret I’ll let only the two of you know is, the scabbard’s Pacifying Stream. Shifu actually considered Pacifying Stream to be his most precious treasure. Storming Soul ought to never be out of its sheath.”
His finger traced the length of the sword. In daylight, Storming Soul and Pacifying Stream were at last clear to see. Side by side with Silvergrass, their similarities became apparent, as well as their differences1
also found here: https://twitter.com/gegeenthusiast/status/1301908468354306049. Both of them were simple, both hilts wrapped in dark leather. Their pommels didn’t have many decorative features either, and their tassels were tied onto the edge of the hilt rather than any holes on the pommel. Judging from the scabbards, Ye Xiyang saw that they were more or less the same width. Makes sense.
The jian was a versatile sword, especially compared to the dao. Designs had changed throughout the ages, most notably the length; one-handed jian was the form that the cultivation world chose in the end. However, it was true that many schools focused more on cutting movements. And while all schools would incorporate both cuts and thrusts into their repertoire, Ye Xiyang could see that Wan Yu utilized more jabs and stabs than many sect styles, Frozen Dragon Sect included. Frozen Dragon Sect was one that relied on cuts, for one. Given their location on the Slumbering Dragon Mountains, cutting was both more flexible and could better damage clothing, exposing the enemy to the weather. This was something their long-ago ancestors, who were mortals trying to survive in the frigid cold and knew nothing of cultivation, had learned and passed down.
Meanwhile, the differences between Storming Soul and Silvergrass were primarily cosmetic. Silvergrass truly was a simple thing, with its plain guard. Even the scabbard didn’t have decoration, only iron tips; the belt was made of thick fabric wrapped around the leather, whereas Pacifying Stream at least had leather straps attached to the decorative metal piece in the middle of the sheath.
“...Your shifu truly gave you a sword that befitted the name Silvergrass.” Naming your sword after reeds. Ye Xiyang shook his head inside.
“Silvergrass is a beautiful sword, thank you,” Wan Yu said, sticking his tongue out. “The way qi flows through, in and out of it like liquid, it’s not something you can do with just any sword.”
Soon, though, he waved the conversation aside. “Anyway, thanks for hiding Storming Soul. Zisu, do you still remember the song… yanno? This one.”
Picking up his flute, Wan Yu played the soothing tune he’d played innumerable times before. After sitting still throughout the entirety of it, Yun Zisu nodded, pulling out her erhu. “Do you need me to accompany you?”
Wan Yu nodded. “I used Pacifying Stream to suck in resentment in the battle, and it needs to be purified regularly. Your White Sound is made for purifying, right? It’ll be a huge help.”
Yun Zisu pursed her lips, then fingered her erhu without pulling her bow. After several moments, she looked up and nodded. “All right. Let’s give it a try?”
Sucking in a nervous breath, Wan Yu placed his dizi on his lips and blew the first note, a sound as soft as the murmur of a breeze through a bamboo grove. A shiver ran through his spine, making the second note flutter— still, he played on, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes shut tight.
“Steady,” his shifu said, eyes closed. His hands were measured as they slid and plucked the strings of his guqin. “Although softness can soothe some, it is more comforting to many if you could hold steady during a crisis, becoming a pillar that does not sway.”
“Bamboos stand their ground, though they move when buffeted by the winds and rains. What about them?”
“Do you feel yourself more like bamboo, then?”
“I dunno. I was just thinking about other kinda options, I guess.”
Wan Yu swore that he heard the sound of water dripping.
His breath came up short.
Without a word, a hand reached out and took the dizi from his hand. Ye Xiyang wiped it in one gesture before picking up after Wan Yu, continuing the song in his stead.
It rained quite a bit, the mountain. As a child, Wan Yu had learned to ignore it and just go play— with a stick and no shirt, he’d run around in the yard, Shifu watching over him as he played his guqin. Sometimes, Wan Yu would poke the earth and find himself some worms, dangling it in front of his shifu. Sometimes, when it was just a drizzle, his shifu would indulge him and take him for a walk, grip firm round his wrist so he wouldn’t run off and out of the umbrella’s protection. The air smelled like damp soil and leaves. The droplets of rain landing on his palm would hold specks of dirt, sometimes an insect that got dragged off the foliage. When the rain stopped, the swollen creek would drag the drooping undergrowth, though they never quite dislodged. Shifu went there often. Wan Yu knew because there was a path carved into the earth, compacted solid despite the occasional overflow.
Sometimes, back when he was far, far younger, his shifu would pick him up. Thunderstorms had raged all night; every time Wan Yu fell into slumber he’d be startled awake. Come early morning he was cranky, rude, bawling. He must’ve been five, maybe six; it must’ve been in the early years of living up there. Humming that song, Shifu took him to that mountain stream. The forests would still be dark, all silhouettes and shifting shadows, but Wan Yu had a night pearl in his chubby hands. A bird poked its head out of its nest. When dawn arrived, they watched the sun rise from atop the trees.
When he blinked, something trailed down his cheeks.
Wan Yu blinked again, trying to hold back the rest, but it only made it worse. Then his lips trembled, too, twisting into a frown. He chewed on them. His nose soured.
In the end, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Shifu…” As soon as the word came out, his shoulders shook. Wan Yu curled in on himself. “Shifu… I miss you…”
It was the middle of winter when Wan Yu returned to the mountain, ready to recount all the crazy things he’d done to his shifu. The old man had told him to venture into the world for one thing, back when he turned 15—
“...It pleases Shifu greatly to know his disciple is righteous with a good heart. But it’s also important to know that people may have different life experiences and points of view, so you cannot always judge them based on your own experiences.”
But when he arrived, there was only Immortal Master Lu Kong, sitting in meditation on the empty house.
“Then whose standards should we judge them on?”
“That is a good question.” Shifu let out a huff, but it might as well be a laugh. “Come back here when you’re twenty and tell me what you think.
“There are some things that Shifu cannot tell you the answer to.”
It took the time to burn an incense for him to look up, eyes swollen. The song had long since ended. Yun Zisu was just staring at him, soft sadness in her eyes; Ye Xiyang looked out of the window, gaze distant. Wan Yu rubbed his eyes, lips trembling.
There were a lot of things he wanted to say about him and his shifu. About the fact that the song was never meant for two; his shifu adjusted it when Wan Yu became old enough to learn how to play music. That the song never had a title until it did, and that the title was Morning Rain on a Peaceful Mountain. That though he was such a renowned immortal, when Wan Yu looked up and gave him his best innocent grin, he would let matters pass, even though he knew his disciple was such a cheeky little monkey.
But the words were too big for his throat. They got stuck, choking him.
Yun Zisu swallowed. Putting her erhu aside, she came up to brush back his hair. "He's… he's always watching over you, Wan Yu."
Ye Xiyang’s eyes were glazed. There might be the claws of something angry lodged in his guts— it was… incomprehensible.
“I know,” Wan Yu said. “That’s why I have to do my best.”
After a moment of silence, he laughed, rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. He was then passed a damp towel, which he used to wipe his face— when he looked up, his eyes were swollen and red, but a grin was back on his face. “This is kinda awkward now.”
Yun Zisu's shoulders shook, then she let out a nervous giggle. "Oh darn it, I don't know how to respond either but now you made me laugh."
It was as though his mood was reset. Wan Yu reached for the snacks. Munching on them, he waved at Ye Xiyang, who at last looked away from the windows to raise his eyebrows at him. Wan Yu gestured to the snacks. His eyebrows rose higher. Shrugging, Wan Yu passed the food to Yun Zisu.
"Celestial Alignment Sect is after you," Ye Xiyang said, handing back the dizi. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Do they even know what I look like?" Wan Yu wondered.
"Young man, wears white, travels with another man wearing blue."
He stared at Ye Xiyang. "They're after you, too?"
Can they even do that? Do they not know who he was? Surely Sect Leader Ye didn't change his face just to stalk Wan Yu?
"Unfortunately," Ye Xiyang said, smile twitching. This was the first genuine smile he had today, and it was about another demonic sect being so dumb they targetted him. Unbelievable.
Yun Zisu's eyebrows furrowed. "Celestial Alignment Sect… is it truly that wretched? Wan Yu… What are you going to do, then? If you need any help don't hesitate to ask ah."
Wan Yu waved, as if to reassure her. "I have to change clothes anyway, pretty sure my old ones got charred. They really didn't have much to go off of, do they?"
"They have more ways to find you than any righteous sects do," Ye Xiyang said. He shook his head, but it looked less like he was debunking Wan Yu’s claim and more like disapproval at his shallow thinking. Jackass. "The full description, I reckon, would be a young man in white, traveling with someone wearing blue, has a sword with white glint and has the Heavenly Rend. Given that you've used it, your cultivation must be very good for someone your age group. Talks outside also included the fact that you handled it alone."
Physical description alone might be insufficient and vague, but it was details on cultivation and skills that could lead Celestial Alignment Sect to him.
"Thankfully, Ye-xiong hid Immortal Master Ning Shan's sword before anyone could see," Yun Zisu said. "Nobody knows he's passed yet, and you might not be as big a target."
Wan Yu straightened up, ruffling his hair. Out of its usual bun, they looked rather floofy, and now the front was messy. "Actually, one person does. Immortal Master Lu Kong was the one who… he was there when I went up the mountain. He was the one who… Well, he said that he was there accompanying him on his last days."
Ye Xiyang's eyebrows furrowed, lips thinning. "You trust his words?"
"Well, yeah? He's… I don't like his personality and approach but I know he's still upright. Definitely not someone who would kill Shifu. Not to mention, if he wanted something, he would've gone and taken it or something before I arrived."
Ye Xiyang shook his head. "He's a public figure, he can't just do that." Things weren't so simple. If he just robbed Immortal Master Ning Shan, he might have the weapons but he would never be able to use it publicly.
...Ah, he understood now, some things in the future. Ye Xiyang did have a feeling they would be demanding the weapons back from the Frozen Dragon Sect sooner or later; righteous faction sects always had a thicker skin than those who openly wore their greedy nature. Of course, older Wan Yu thought things through, too; his people had searched the man numerous times, and… wait.
If the pearl could still be hidden to the very end, wouldn't that mean there was a space Wan Yu had that was tied to his spirit? Even with time on their side, the cultivation scholars of Frozen Dragon Sect hadn't found it.
Wan Yu's lips thinned. "Well, for the time being, I choose to trust him."
"It's your choice," Ye Xiyang said, shrugging. "What are you going to do, though? You did not answer."
"I dunno, man. Maybe they really wouldn't recognize me if I just dress up more thug-like or something." Wan Yu reached up and touched the healing cut on his right eyebrow. "With this itty bitty scar, I can probably pull it off. Was a farmer then, now I'm a red district thug."
Yun Zisu, "......" What?
Ye Xiyang raised an eyebrow. "You've been to flower houses."
Wan Yu shrugged. "Well, yeah."
"As a patron?"
"No, why would I? I was there to beat someone up."
That sounded a lot more plausible, Ye Xiyang thought. Immortal Chen Xi did not have a reputation for going to flower houses. Though then again, he did always work his way into living with people… Ye Xiyang wouldn't be surprised if some of those many occurrences involved a young woman drawn by the reputation of cultivators.
"So one of the girls dressed me up as one of them. It was pretty wild. Shifu had to go calm himself down by meditating all night after I told him about that."
Ye Xiyang, "......" Actually, he too needs to meditate now.
Yun Zisu's expression was oddly fascinated. "Younger you might've been able to pull off a softer, more feminine look with some make up, now that I think about it. The only thing that might be a bit thin would be your hips, for that age."
Ye Xiyang, "......" I see now how they are best friends.
"You can't outrun them forever, though," he said instead, trying to scrub the past few minutes from his memory. "Changing identities might give you a decade or two, but it won't last that long either if you continue being an active cultivator."
“I suppose you’re right. Dressing up like a brothel lady, wouldn’t that just make Celestial Alignment Sect want m—”
A knock on the door. Wan Yu froze.
“Cultivator Wan Yu,” the voice from outside spoke, “this is the Vermillion Sun Sect. We heard you woke up; do you have the time to talk today?”
