Beware of Chicken, page 12
There was some soup with dumplings served to us as we entered the little walled compound. While Meihua would get an actual room, the houses weren’t quite big enough to accommodate everybody. So, the rest of us were camping again.
“Hey … Meimei?” I asked, as we got ready for bed.
“Yes?”
“How strong was that Blaze Bear, anyway?”
She shrugged. “No idea. I can’t give specifics, but it was a lot weaker than you. Yours is like the fresh smell of the harvest. The Blaze Bear’s was like ash on the wind, a fire in the distance.”
I frowned, as I got out my bedroll. A lot weaker, huh?
The thought swirled in my head as I laid down to sleep. Big day tomorrow. I’ve been to a few weddings before, but Rou hadn’t. I wondered what they were like in this world …
CHAPTER 15
SIDE QUEST
I wasn’t getting to sleep.
I tossed and turned on my bedroll, ill thoughts swirling through my mind.
That incident with the bear bothered me.
Rou hadn’t been very strong. At least, he didn’t think he was very strong, and he’d got beaten up so badly he died. Strong enough to drive off weak Spirit Beasts, yeah, but it still should have been a fight. It was “weak,” but even weak Spirit Beasts were supposed to be tough as hell and hard to kill. If this was a story, it should have been a hard-fought victory. I’d eventually defeat the Blaze Bear with guile, or my technique, and then eat its Spirit Core and get the Blazing Bear scripture, something only I understood the value to, that I would then cultivate into a power that shook the heavens!
Or something.
I would’ve settled for Meimei fussing over some injuries—though, it would more realistically be her dad, since he was better with medicine, or so she said.
Instead, a Spirit Beast that I should’ve had a hard time with had literally shit itself when I called on my Qi and then begged for its life. Even if it was young, it shouldn’t have done that.
Not unless I was so far beyond the bear, it couldn’t comprehend beating me.
But … I wasn’t cultivating. Okay, I was cultivating, but I wasn’t cultivating. I hadn’t been sitting around circling my Qi—I’m a farmer. I used my Qi like a tool, and by the end of most days, I was completely empty. There were no breakthroughs I noticed, no bottlenecks … and I hadn’t even tried to gauge my own power.
I can feel the scent of flowers on the breeze. The suddenly thick underbrush around my legs— I rolled onto my side and called some of my Qi into my hand, pushing it into the granite tiles around my bedroll.
Nothing happened.
The stones got a little reinforced, I guess, but when I put my Qi into my plants, nothing else happened either.
If plants grow too fast, they deplete nutrients from the soil.
We give to the land, and the land gives back.
Was I unconsciously holding back? Every time I put my Qi into my crops, it was deliberate. I wanted to reinforce and nurture. To make them better, instead of making them grow faster because I didn’t want to damage the soil.
What would happen if I just let go?
I closed my eyes and started to pull. It felt like I was tugging on a mountain. But slowly, ever so slowly, it started to move. My Qi churned and started to accelerate forward, like an avalanche, unstoppable in its might, ready to bear down on—
Nope.
I slammed on the brakes. I pressed back against the tide, and for a moment, it seemed like it would continue forwards anyway. Then it stilled, solidifying. I was breathing heavily as I clenched my hand into a fist. Sweat dripped on the ground. I bit my knuckle and rolled onto my back.
I’m afraid of what I’ll see.
My mind flashed through memories, some fresher than others. Memories of losing my temper, starting a fight on a whim because I could, satisfaction that I would win. My memories. It wasn’t just Rou that had issues. There were little flashes of irritation that threatened to escalate. The fur trader and his blabbing mouth. The people in the cities and the towns, pushing and shoving. The only thing that had stopped me from acting were the consequences. The consequences of the Before.
But what if there were no consequences? What if you could fight off the guards, fight off the army? Cultivators could do whatever they wanted.
It was a tempting thought. To truly be free. To do as you pleased, with nothing, nobody able to tell you otherwise.
To live out all the power fantasies I’d ever had.
All those powerful cultivators, killing and destroying without a care in the world. Crushing villages as collateral damage. Seeking out others with power, just to fight them.
Trees, strangling entire cities. The mountains venting their terrible wrath. The very earth, rising up and going to war.
An icy finger of dread crawled up my spine.
Me—in the middle of a field of carnage—and staring greedily at the heavens. The grim satisfaction I feel as everybody who had ever wronged me was bowed and broken at my feet.
If I had that strength … Then what could possibly stop me?
“Jin?” Meimei asked with a sleepy voice, rubbing at her eye. “Is something wrong? Your Qi smells like …” At this, her nose wrinkled. “Over-boiled rice and peat.”
The woman who would be my wife was concerned. She was concerned for my well-being, curious and ready to help.
A thousand villages like Hong Yaowu, shattered like so much kindling. An argument. Harsh words … and unrestrained power. Something fragile breaking.
The world of cultivation. The rat race for the heavens, coming for this sleepy little province.
I let out a nervous laugh, even as bile flooded the back of my throat at the horrid thought.
“Yeah, sorry, just a bad dream,” I replied, waving her off. “Go back to bed, Meimei.”
She squinted at me, considering my words, and then marched forwards.
She keeled over and thumped beside me onto my bedroll.
“Mei—”
Her arms wrapped around my head, and she pulled me into her chest. I could hear the steady thump-thump of her heart.
She smelled like an herb garden.
“Sleep,” she grunted at me.
I let out a breath, and some of the tension drained out of my shoulders.
Underneath, my Qi burbled unpleasantly.
→
Meimei’s warmth was gone when I woke up. I had obviously slept in a bit.
But there was something else in my bed. Something hairy, and it smelled like a warm animal.
I heard muffled giggling.
I opened my eyes, and a goat stared back at me, chewing its cud. It looked spectacularly bored with this situation.
You know, I’m not even mad. I’m impressed. How the hell did they slip this into my arms without me waking up? The goat looked at me and continued chewing.
“Have a good rest, my darling?” I asked it, and somebody choked, trying to hold in their laughter.
I stood and picked up the goat around its middle, holding it under one arm. The rest of the people from Hong Yaowu were staring at me, trying to hold back laughter.
“To breakfast, my dear. And speak not of our tryst to Meiling!” I declared dramatically.
The dam broke. Gou Ren fell onto his back howling with laughter.
My betrothed came out of the main house to find out what the fuss was about, and she raised an eyebrow at me as soon as she saw the spectacle unfolding.
“Oh no, she found us! We must away!” I started in a faux panic.
Her hand met her face, but she was clearly amused.
“Jin …” She sighed. “Wash your face well.”
Ah, they drew stuff on me too, huh?
I just shook my head with a smile. They got me.
I pushed some of the lingering thoughts I had from the night to the back of my mind. There was stuff to do.
“Whose goat is this, anyway?” I asked.
→
Gou Ren didn’t actually know whose goat it was. He thought it was the Zhuge’s, due to him finding it in their compound, but they insisted it wasn’t theirs.
So, after I finished washing the dicks off my face—people were the same everywhere—I set off to find the owner. I didn’t have to do anything for the wedding yet either and had been shooed off from helping in the kitchen.
So here I was. A goat under my arm, placidly chewing some cud, and Meimei’s little brother on my shoulders, asking around town if anybody had lost a goat.
Gonna be honest here, that wasn’t how I expected my day to go. I thought I was here for a wedding, not a side-quest.
But again, I was in no rush. It was kinda fun.
I handed a skewer of meat up to Xian Jr. He had said that they smelled really good, so what the hell.
“Thank you, Senior Brother!” the eight-year-old cheered, biting into the glazed chicken and mushrooms.
I found a place to sit and deposited our goat. I handed the goat a carrot, and she took it with the same placid expression.
Xian Jr. slid from my shoulders to my lap, kicking his legs as he ate. I absently wiped some of the sauce on his cheek away with my thumb.
“Ho there!” a man that looked a bit twitchy called. “I see you found my goat!”
“Probably. What’s its brand look like?” I asked. The goat didn’t actually have a brand. I’m just bullshitting, but he doesn’t know I am.
Mister Twitchy froze, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Maybe … it’s not my goat, after all. I’ll just be going!” he said as he turned around and quite nearly fled in the other direction.
Yeah, I thought so, buddy. Well, we’ve got about an hour left until we have to be back for the ceremony.
I lifted Xian Jr. back up to my shoulders and turned to the goat.
“Well, let’s keep looking.” The goat got up and shook itself. We set off down the street.
After half an hour of more wandering, we came to a little shack at the edge of town. The goat—which had been content to walk behind me— set off with its hooves clopping.
“Ah! Lan Fan, you devil! I was wondering where you had gone off to!” I heard an elderly voice shout. An old woman stalked out of her shack, waving a broom threateningly at the goat.
Lan Fan looked unimpressed. The old grey-haired and hunched woman harrumphed before turning to us. One of her eyes was cloudy and blind, the other an odd shade of grey. Both of them narrowed at us.
“And do I have this young gentlemen to thank for bringing this vile beast back to me?”
I made the appropriate gesture of respect with my hands. “Yes, Grandmother, she had wandered into the Zhuge compound, and I sought to return her to her rightful place.”
The old woman frowned and grabbed my hand, squinting up at my face. Her good eye rolled around crazily for a second, and then she focused on me again.
She harrumphed, again.
“You, boy, stay here,” she demanded, then wandered into her shack.
A little bit awkward, but I shrugged and waited.
She swiftly returned with a kitten, which she shoved into my arms.
“Take good care of it,” she demanded. “A good farmer should have a cat.”
And then she left.
I stared blankly at the stripy orange kitten. A kitten for a goat. This … is a very strange side quest. I wonder what I trade the kitten for. A +3 sword?
CHAPTER 16
COMMANDMENT
Meiling looked on as the wine was exchanged, trying to keep her eyes dry.
Tingfeng and Meihua’s heads bowed three times towards the west, right when the sun started to set.
Yao Che and Tingfeng’s father and grandfather bowed to each other.
And then it was done.
It had been several months in the making, this wedding. And now, Meiling’s best friend would be a two-day journey away instead of right next door.
Their parting would hurt, but Meiling would endure it. She was happy that her friend had married someone she actually liked. Tingfeng was a good man, and he would take care of her.
She tried not to cry as Meihua caught her gaze, unshed tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. In the absence of her deceased mother, it was Meiling who had done the traditional dressing of the bride. She was the one who had helped to hand her away.
Meihua’s smile towards her was radiant. It was like the sun moved on a whim to perfectly illuminate her face, and the decorations around her took on a vibrant new life. Her red dress blazed with the sun.
Meiling guessed that it was just her emotions getting the better of her.
But for now, their participation was at its end. The young couple departed to their rooms, and the feast began.
Meiling’s heart was full of joy, though there was a dark spot in the proceedings that had come out of nowhere. Meiling had expected this to be a joyous day—a time for thanksgiving and a time to enjoy herself after the union was done.
And yet, something had happened the previous night. Jin’s once warm and refreshing scent had churned and boiled like an untended cauldron. He smelled wrong. It made her a bit nauseous, being so close. Last night, his face had been pale, and his mannerisms were off.
She knew something must have really disturbed him since he’d told her to leave instead of making even a token effort of getting her to sleep beside him. Because of that, she had braved the smell and held him tightly, no matter how much her stomach roiled.
Her presence seemed to have been a balm, and most of the ugly churning had died down. When she had slipped out of his embrace in the morning, he was almost completely scentless.
But then Jin started … leaking, for the lack of a better word. The smell was slightly too sweet—like overripe fruit. It was minute, but it was there—an undercurrent to his normal scent.
Oh, sure, he had acted like his usual self for most of the day. He took Gou Ren’s prank with his normal good humour and brought her little brother out for a walk to return the goat, coming back with a kitten from the grateful owner. Jin had seemed bemused by the entire thing, and now the cat was sleeping in his carriage.
But his smiles were slightly off, and his brow was clenched with worry, even as he laughed with other guests and enjoyed the festivities.
Eventually, he had seemed to tire of even this and wandered away to go and sit in the carts.
Meiling smiled at her father and begged off some of the festivities. She picked up a pitcher of rice wine and a platter of dumplings and went to find him. They wouldn’t be missed, and things were starting to get rowdy.
There would be many hangovers the next day, that she was sure of. And nothing left to dull the edge.
She found Jin sitting on his cart, absentmindedly stroking his kitten.
“What should I name you, little girl? Pu Shi?” His lips quirked slightly into a smile. “Nah, that’s just rude. You’re going to be a good girl. And though you may be a girl, this one is a powerful name, from a powerful, wonderful tiger … Tigu’er sounds good, right?”
The kitten yowled, snuggling into him.
Meiling said nothing as she clambered into the carriage beside him, setting down the plate and the bottle. Jin looked slightly surprised, but he smiled at her.
“You’re too good to me, you know that?” his crooked grin softened slightly as he looked at her. “Keep spoiling me so much, and I’ll become a useless man.”
“Then I’ll just have to set you straight again if that happens,” she declared.
Jin laughed, took a dumpling, and downed a swig from the pitcher.
They lapsed into silence for a while, listening to the shouts and the laughter of people having a good time. Jin’s face was set into a frown. Something was obviously still bothering him. The bear? Meiling didn’t know, but she did know the best way to get to that topic was by talking.
“Jin?” she asked, and he flinched slightly, turning to look at her.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve said you’re from Raging Waterfall Gorge before, but what kind of place did you grow up in?”
He paused, and his brow furrowed.
“I’ve never told you what city I was from?” He seemed surprised that it had slipped his mind. His eyes defocused again as he reminisced. “Crimson Crucible City, out above Demon’s Grave Ravine. It’s … well, it’s a city. Most cities are the same everywhere you go. Noisy, crowded. Lots of people looking to make it big, and the gutters are filled with those that didn’t.” He frowned. “Never liked the city. Or any city, really. I’ll go to one if I have to, but I much prefer it out there.” He gestured in the vague direction of her village and his farm.
He handed her the wine, and she took a swig.
“That’s far away. Dangerous, too. The things that live near Demon’s Grave Ravine make the Spirit Beasts here look like normal animals.” She leaned closer to him. “Is it true that the city gets attacked by demons?” she whispered.
Jin nodded. “I saw it once. Well, kind of. You don’t really see much through the defensive formations. Most people just keep on doing what they’re doing. If the formation falls, everybody’s dead anyway, so no sense in worrying about it.”
Meiling could scarcely imagine it. To just go about your life while demons battered at the gates? She had seen drawings in scrolls of them before, but somehow they seemed more fantastical than cultivators. They were all devilish bodies and corrosive Qi.
She handed the pitcher back.
“Who taught you how to cultivate?” she asked.
“Gramps. My grandfather. Well, he wasn’t really my grandfather. He picked me up off the street after my parents died of the Demon’s Black Hate. Watching somebody vomit up their entire stomach is … well, it was pretty gross, I’ll be honest.”
Jin grimaced, obviously replaying the memory. Meiling shuddered too. The reagents to cure it were expensive enough to buy the entirety of Verdant Hill twice over.
“He got me off the street and started training me. He was an old drunk, but he never seemed to run out of money. I never did advance as fast as he wanted me to. ‘You’re not done yet!?’ he’d shout, then I’d call him an old bastard, we’d fight, and then we’d have dinner. But … he cared for me. He fed me. He took care of me. He was the only person I had.” Jin’s eyes went a bit misty as he reminisced. He took a moment and then shook his head, dispelling the memory. “After … after a couple of years, Gramps said I was strong enough and that he had to leave. Seemed pretty upset about it. Told me I should join a Sect.”
