Beware of Chicken, page 3
Then, finally, you transplant them to your paddies. I always found it rather strange that rice does better when you rip it out of the soil and stuff it somewhere else instead of leaving it be.
The funny thing is that I’d learned most of this from reading manga. Thanks, Shizuko. I had no shame cheating by using techniques from the 1860s when the technology level was mid- to pre-thousands level, like all true Isekai heroes!
Except some of the technology stuff wouldn’t really work. Guns would be pretty much useless against cultivators and Spirit Beasts, and I had no desire to conquer the world. Eh, rice is more important than that stuff anyways.
But enough about that. I examined the buckets one more time and then turned to the paddies, walking over to continue working on them. The paddies themselves were underway, carved into the side of one of the hills in a terraced style. It would be fed by one of the small rivers when it finally came time to flood them. Want me to be honest about something? The reason it was done like this is because that hill had the fewest rocks I needed to clear. Some of the damn things were twice my height, even if I could get them out of the way, mindlessly crushing rocks got boring after a while.
Cultivator strength and endurance always did turn tasks that should have taken months or years into a matter of days, but sometimes I had a sneaking suspicion that my “zen” modes lasted for longer than I thought they did. I was always super hungry when they stopped, and occasionally Big D gave me the gimlet eye when I got back home.
Cultivation be whack, yo.
I finished examining the terrace wall for any potential defects. It looked pretty good, but just in case, I pushed some more of my Qi into it. Lending my spirit to help reinforce the wall and strengthen the grass’s roots to keep everything steady.
The masters at the Sects would probably have an aneurysm about how much Qi I was “wasting,” but I didn’t see it as a waste. It was a resource. If you got it, use it. Besides, it didn’t take that long for it to come back. At the start of the next day, I was usually feeling fresh as a daisy. Maybe if I was a better cultivator or had more extensive reserves, it might have taken longer to recover, but I didn’t know and quite honestly, I didn’t care.
Yawning, I wandered back to my little house, Big D greeted me with his signature screech.
“You tell ’em, Big D.” I scratched his head affectionately. His defeat hadn’t made him skittish, so that was good. He was still a little ball of piss and vinegar.
My Lowly Spiritual Herbs were growing in their buckets beside my sprouting rice. The Spirit Herbs needed Qi to grow properly, and I figured, why not just infuse the rice with Qi too? It couldn’t be any harm.
I had also replanted the strange root I’d found. I couldn’t just run off to a local archive, so this was the only way I had to store it. It had some Qi to it, so it got a dousing too.
I carefully infused my spirit into the water. I then picked up my watering can and got to work, with Big D sitting on my shoulder, occasionally hopping off to snap up a bug that dared try to assault the vulnerable shoots.
Good boy. More spirit greens for you after dinner.
→
So, things went. I had to brain a few more foxes and a starving-looking wolf, but otherwise things were mostly peaceful.
Day after day I worked. A little house rose. My bed got just a bit more comfortable. Rocks were ground down into gravel, and a tangled forest gave way to cleared land. It was like watching a movie in fast forward. Those half-primitive technology videos and my own farm-boy upbringing helped a bit, but I wasn’t really a normal human. I could start a fire in a single twist of a dowel and hew entire trees down in two swings of an axe.
So, I worked. I let myself go and learned to love the routine. Learned to love the land as I pushed more and more of my Qi into the soil, reinforcing and nurturing it. It was a careful act, because too much Qi could cause things to explode, but the land drank it all in without complaint.
Chop the wood.
Break the rocks.
Plant crops.
Nurture soil with Qi.
Eat food.
Sleep.
Months passed by.
I awoke to each new day with a smile, feeling whole and happy.
□
The Great Master had given him the name Bi De. He knew not what it meant, but he knew the name was his. He knew it was powerful.
But he was not.
Not yet.
Awareness was a fickle thing. It came and it went. But he knew during those times. He thought. And he was elevated above those who were beneath him. His senses were refined to better alert the Great Master to interlopers during the night, those of red fur and sharp teeth.
But every time he failed in something he knew was his duty, like defending the females, he felt great shame. His Great Master nurtured him without reservation, treating him like a favoured son and not the shameful thing he was.
He was weak.
He had to grow in strength and fulfill his destiny!
He rode upon the Great Master’s shoulder while his Lord infused their food with his very essence and struck from above upon the base creatures that dared to sup off his energy.
He stood the night watch while the Great Master slept. He guarded the coops while the Great Master completed his great wonders, commanding the land and taming the forest.
He watched as the Great Master moved in the morning, his body flowing with tremendous skill. It was the same set of movements, every morning, before he started his work.
And so Bi De sought to improve himself. He ran through the Great Master’s lands. He jumped over the hills and onto the giant branches of trees. He shoved his body against the Great Pots of Growth until he could finally move them.
And now, he stood upon the Great Pillars of Fa Ram—another name with an unquestionably sublime meaning—and gave it his all to imitate the Great Master, to achieve some pale imitation of his wondrous skill.
His body soared through the air. His legs lashed out with strength unknown to his lesser kin. He danced as the Great Master danced. He drew breath as the Great Master drew breath.
Something swirled around him.
Within him.
□
I smiled at Big D as he hopped and kicked along my fence.
Cute little guy.
CHAPTER 3
BENEATH THE CRESCENT MOON
Bi De knew fury. One of the red ones had vexed his Great Master. One of the foolish creatures that never learned, even as their kin died by the score to his Lord’s mighty spur, his “shovel.” Yet it was different from the others, somehow managing to sneak past Bi De, nearly slaying one of the Great Master’s flock. It was fortunate that he had that ill feeling and thus gone on patrol. He had barely sounded the alarm in time, his voice berating the foul interloper.
But this red one, this vile beast, was skilled. It danced around Bi De’s blows, as he called upon his Great Master. His Lord had appeared from his coop to bring death upon the interloper. Yet, horror of horrors, the monster had evaded the Great Master’s mighty spur, the one that he used to tame the earth. In all other cases, his iron spur had been a command of death. With a single contemptuous blow, he had smote all others.
But not this one.
At first, Bi De was stunned nearly to the point of spitting blood. Why did his Great Master not pursue it? He could have easily slain the interloper, this demon, if he directed his full and terrible wrath against it.
He did not understand, but he knew his Great Master had wisdom that far eclipsed his.
Thrice, the foul spawn did attempt to take what was rightfully the Great Master’s. Its guile, cunning, and luxurious pelt surpassing all its kin. Thrice, did the Great Master’s mighty blows miss.
The Great Master even gave it a name from the very pits of hell: Basi Bu Shi. Bi De shuddered whenever he heard it. His Great Master’s words of power contained both virtuous and fell wisdom.
Each night, he contemplated his Great Master’s wisdom and methods while staring at the moon. The great celestial body was calming to gaze upon, and when he was not alert for interlopers, he found himself drawn to its sublime radiance.
But now, he understood. He had deciphered the conundrum his Great Master had set before him. His Great Master had once more brought out his mobile coop, the thing with wheels that could be pulled behind his Lord. He remembered vaguely, before he was enlightened, travelling to these blessed lands upon the mighty fortress from … another place that was … hazier.
Some of his Master’s supplies had run low. He wished to return to the other place, so that the people there might give tribute to his glory.
But to travel outwards, the Great Master would have to leave his home with only Bi De remaining to serve as Fa Ram’s guardian.
And he was not strong enough. His weakness was preventing the Master from living how he wished. It was unacceptable.
He had been issued a challenge in Basi Bu Shi’s continued existence. A mighty task to prove his worth against the wicked.
The Great Pillars of the Fa Ram called.
He redoubled his efforts.
His kicks took on new energy.
His dance, new grace.
He would slay this mighty enemy and earn his Great Master’s trust.
□
Well, just a bit more ’til I head back to Verdant Hill, I mused as I worked. I’d have to take the chickens along with me, so they didn’t all get eaten. I knew I should probably finally deal with Basil Brush. I had been kind of lazy about it, just chasing him off and hoping he would get the message, but he was becoming persistent.
I couldn’t blame him. The chickens were growing big. Big D had basically reached adulthood, he was now much more solid-looking than the string bean he used to be. His plumage was a lovely red colour and his tail a nice green. The classic rooster.
I squinted at Big D as I finished dressing a fox pelt. I tilted my head to the side, trying to make sense of what he was doing.
Is—is my fucking chicken doing a training montage? I watched his incredibly crisp kicks for a little longer.
I shook my head. Nah, I’ve just spent too long alone and I’m humanizing him a bit too much. Or maybe it’s just cultivator world bullshit.
I returned to my work while humming. I had a few good things to sell, and these fox pelts were really nice.
All right, next time I see Basil, I’ll hunt him down. The damn fox puppet always annoyed me in the Before, and I’ll be damned if I let him laugh at me.
□
It had taken three days. Three days of diligent, nonstop training. Refining his kicks. Sharpening his spurs. He was ready. The image in his mind of the wicked one’s movements were set. He knew how it would fight.
Tonight, he, Bi De, would slay the wicked Basi Bu Shi.
Tonight, it would be either glorious victory or his death—either were acceptable. If he fell in battle, it merely proved that he was unworthy of his Great Master’s continued sufferance.
He went into the night, hopping from tree branch to tree branch in silence. The lands of Fa Ram were impossibly vast, yet he persevered. Into the northern forest he ventured, where the wicked one had fled every night, scampering away from his Great Master’s wrath. There, he found his quarry.
Basi Bu Shi. Rage seized his heart at the beast, walking upon the Great Master’s domain like it owned it. It was utterly unacceptable. He would have the beast die a thousand deaths for its arrogance!
And arrogant it was. It stalked but did not realise others could stalk it.
In silence, Bi De descended from his perch, striking from the heavens against this beast from hell. His legs lashed with great strength and his enemy snarled in pain. His spurs bit deep, penetrating flesh, but it was no killing blow. The creature’s fur and pelt deflecting some of the damage.
He struck again to press his advantage, but Basi Bu Shi was worthy of his hellish name, the lithe creature shot away with the deep scar in its flesh leaking blood profusely.
Bi De saw it in his mortal enemy’s eyes. The spark of awareness. The spark of fury.
This one … this one knew too. It was not as the hens were. It was as Bi De himself was.
His foe did not run.
It knew he had not called his Great Master.
It knew it could lay him low here.
Their silent dance began.
His legs and spurs cut through the night air as he flipped and dashed around his enemy’s razor teeth and tearing claws.
It tried to strike him with its paws, to foul his footing and drive him to the earth, but he had grown wise to these beast’s tricks, dodging around its wicked claws and leaping away from its snapping teeth.
The two whirls of red chased each other through the forest, bouncing off the mighty trunks and leaving gouges on the forest floor.
Bi De felt triumph. He was equally matched with the beast though all his instincts screamed it was his absolute superior. Its nose was slashed open, one of its ears a ragged mass. His spurs ran crimson.
But the wicked one had more tricks. It raised its limb to strike another blow, sending Bi De’s wings snapping out to redirect the momentum.
He saw the gleam of satisfaction too late.
The paw slammed down instead, launching the wicked one forwards, and the vile Basi Bu Shi became a streamer of red trailing behind an open maw.
Teeth crashed down upon his wing. The wicked one shook its head savagely and then threw him across the clearing to slam into a tree.
It was pain like no other. He nearly cried out—he nearly summoned his Great Master.
But he refused.
This was his test, and he refused to fail.
He staggered to his feet, his legs shaking with the effort.
Basi Bu Shi drove him to the earth with a mighty paw. His head slammed into the forest floor, the smell of blood and dirt filling Bi De’s nostrils. Basi Bu Shi laughed over besting the Great Master’s disciple. He savoured his victory.
Bi De knew only shame as he lay there, pinned to the base earth. He could not return his Great Master’s blessings. He could not ever repay him. All Bi De could do is stare up at the night sky in torment.
The enormous crescent moon loomed in his vision. It was his favourite phase of the celestial object. He always contemplated it when it showed its most perfect form. It looked somewhat like his master’s mighty spur— or his own useless, weak ones.
Ah, how he wished for a mighty weapon to slay the wicked.
The Crescent Moon loomed.
Bi De, in his last moments, contemplated the lunar glory.
Bi De, in his last moments, understood.
He guided his energy and intent true. Blades of light, pure as the moon above, sprung from his limbs.
[Rising of the Crescent Moon]
His body rose from its prone position, and he ascended as surely as the moon. The wicked one could not contain him, its paw hurled back from the force. The blade struck true, gouging out one of the foul spawn’s eyes as he flipped in the air.
The enemy shrieked in pain, its very soul burned by the righteous, heavenly blades he now bore.
He hung in the sky, under the moon’s celestial light, gazing down upon his enemy.
All things that rise, fall.
[Descending Lunar Fangs]
It was inevitable, as true as the sun, the moon, and the stars set in the sky, so too did he once more descend to the base earth, carrying the weight and glory of heaven with him.
Both of his glimmering spurs buried themselves in the neck of the red one—this unsightly Basi Bu Shi.
[Wheel of the Crescent Moon]
His legs split apart, once more throwing him into a flip, the white energy formed a ring-like afterimage around him and parted his mortal enemy’s head from its shoulders.
He landed gracefully once more upon the earth.
His enemy’s head thumped to the ground behind him. Then, Bi De collapsed onto his side, exhaustion overcoming him. His breath came in great gasps, as he greedily tried to suck in air. He turned once more to his enemy—as if the monster would rise again, even without his head.
The wicked beast did not move. His body remained still.
He—he had done it. Bi De had completed his Master’s task!
He roared his victory to the heavens, praising the moon for its guidance. The air reverberated. His own females burst into surprised clucks and began calling too when they heard his victorious voice.
His Great Master burst into the clearing a moment later, worry and fury in his eyes.
↔
I stumbled to a stop after once again being called out of bed. Big D being this far away when he screamed was worrying. Had he been taken by the fox? I moved as fast as I could and found the source. The small clearing was cut up from something, and there was Big D, looking pleased as punch, standing on the mangled and beheaded form of Basil Brush.
What the fuck?
↔
His Great Master, as always, lavished affection upon him. His broken wing was bandaged, his disheveled feathers combed, and his wattles rubbed in a most pleasing way. His Great Master praised him, commending his strength in no uncertain terms, while his Lord carried him in his arms.
He was delivered back to the coop and fed full sprigs of Heavenly Herbs. His Great Master commanded him to rest and heal.
He was a good disciple of his Great Master. He had passed his test and was now granted guardianship of Great Fa Ram, trusted to hold faith for his Lord while he braved the world.
CHAPTER 4
NOTHING BUT A HOUND DOG
A warm wind blew through the little village of Hong Yaowu, at complete odds with the cold chill going down the young woman’s back.
There were many ways Hong Meiling had expected her day to go. As the village chief’s daughter, she had many tasks to fulfill. Watching over the children, collecting herbs, making medicine, tending to whoever got hurt. It was often a hard job, but it was one she enjoyed. She loved her village and her family.
