Chương 89: Chapter 10: Amongst Friends

Two days later, Jii led Yong out from the tent, his tentacles parting the flap to naturally help the young man without the appearance of helping. Yong's face was wan, and he wore a simple white medical robe with a pair of furred boots to keep the rain from soaking his feet.

"Oho! Our ball and chain has awoken!" Wook called, standing up from where he, Tae, Song, and Jinu were all clustered around a flat slab of stone they'd hoisted over to use as a table. A makeshift pavilion of furs and sticks had been erected as an awning to keep the rain off. They'd been playing a game of shagai, which used the knobbly square bones of a sheep's ankles to play dice. The six-sides of the bones had been painted in a variety of different colours, with a different shade on each face.

Each player had four of the multi-coloured bone dice in front of them, and the game involved tossing them to get points depending on the number of matching faces. It wouldn't be a game of the warriors of Nakjo without some kind of physical competition of course. If anyone ever got all four faces the same, everybody at the table had the right to try and grab their dice to claim the points. Wook tended to win the grab, but had no luck. Song and Jinu were middling players at best.

Song's other brother on the other hand…

"Hey, don't leave!" Tae complained, pointing at a large pile of iron coins on the table in front of him.

"You son of a monkey's uncle! You're just trying to avoid losing again!"

"What nonsense are your lips flapping? I just want to properly greet our new guest, Elder Brother!" Wook grinned, coming to stand before Yong and Jii. Even with his massive frame and height, Wook still only came up to Yong's shoulders.

"Whoof, you're a big one!" Wook exclaimed, looking up.

"I couldn't tell when you were being carried around like a young babe. Are you ready to join the lands of the living again?"

"Wook…" Jii warned, his eyes gleaming slits. Wook coughed, placing a hand on Yong's shoulder and giving it a pat.

"Ahem "We're glad to see you've returned to health, fellow warrior."

"Maybe now we can finally leave these benighted lands!" Tae shouted over.

"I hate it here!" He shivered.

"It feels like all the accumulated grudges of the Simas are gathered here, looking over my shoulder."

"Give him a chance to eat something and finish up his goodbyes," Jii snapped.

"You can't rush recovery!"

"Apparently he can," Dami said, emerging from the tent behind her father. She shook her head.

"I've never seen somebody heal so fast."

"Mmm…" Jii leaned in to check Yong's eyes, then used his tentacles to lift the young man's arms and spin him gently around. Yong made some feeble protest, but was too weak to resist the physician's examination.

"Good, you don't seem feverish, and your eyes are properly adjusting to the light." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Yong's long black hair made his skin look whiter than it probably was, and his muscles were definitely less pronounced than they'd been three days ago. But he was alive. Yong looked down at Jii with a blank look, before he bowed gently at the waist. His voice was a cracked, but pleasant, tenor.

"Thank you, Physician, for saving my life. This Yong will be forever in your debt."

"Hah! Be careful uttering such words before a cultivator, young man. We live long lives, and should I ascend you'd find that forever might not be an impossibility," Jii laughed.

"As if you'd ever reach such lofty heights," Eunji catcalled from where she was seated on a nearby boulder. She was sucking on a pipe and keeping watch, though there wasn't much to see in the surrounding low-lying hills other than cranes, marmots, frogs, and the Sima residence.

"Is he well enough to eat, Elder Jii?" Song asked, standing up from the table and dusting himself off. Jii considered, before replying, "Just something gentle for now, Lee Song. Some broth from the pot, but no meat or mare's milk."

"Just serve out food for everyone, Song," Eunji added.

"It's time for lunch anyways."

"Yes, Elder. Jinu, come help me," Song kicked his friend in passing.

"Fine. I was losing anyways," Jinu scattered his dice and went to help Song get some food. Tae was left alone at the table, stricken.

"But, the game! Ah, you bunch of cowardly gamblers!" He angrily swept the dice into a leather satchel.

"Don't play if you're just going to run away when you're losing!"

"It's not about us losing brother, it's that you keep winning!" Song shouted over his shoulder. Song went over to a stew pot that they had bubbling over a merry fire, and gave it a sniff. The fire was made with real wood, a rarity on the plains where they preferred to use argal. Dried horse dung argal burned fast, and hot, but was also susceptible to rain. The wood that they'd collected from the small ttrees that dotted the lowlands took a while to get burning, especially in the wet, but it stayed lit once it did.

The broth was a collection of herbs, rice, daikon, and some bok choy that Jii had brought with. The Yu family were not only martial cultivators, they also cultivated the herbs and vegetables that provided a small amount of variety to the meat-and-rice-heavy fare of Changpo. Small flecks of dried horse meat slowly percolated in the mix, along with a few bones to provide marrow for flavour. It was pretty fancy for travel rations, but they hadn't known how long they'd be stuck here.

Song ladled Eunji's bowl first with a good amount of meat and marrow, and sent it off with Jinu to bring it to the leader of their expedition. He then ladled a bowl for Yong, taking care to only allow small bits of vegetables in, and keeping it to mostly broth. When that was done, he set out some bowls for the rest, only spending extra care to ensure that his bowl had more daikon in it than everyone else. Jii led Yong to the table and helped him sit, then joined the rest of them, seating himself at Yong's side.

The stew had been simmering since last night, and was piping hot. Song took an appreciative sniff and brought the bowl to his mouth to drink from it directly. The extra hours of simmering had made the usually tough travel meat practically melt in his mouth, and the daikon no longer crunched, but instead had an almost gooey texture. He sighed with satisfaction, but still didn't take his eyes off the stranger who'd joined them at their table.

For his part, Yong gave a quiet thanks before lifting the bowl to his lips, drinking deeply from it. He tipped it back, greedily gulping down the hot broth. At the same time, water flowed down from his obscured face, mixing with the soup that dribbled from his chin to drip like salty rain down upon the water logged earth beneath their feet. Nobody said a word as they all silently ate their stew, allowing the peasant to silently eat and weep in peace. Discussions on the future could always wait.