Chương 90: Chapter 11: Arrival

Yong took some time to say farewell to his sister while Song helped his brothers pack up. They'd buried her and the merchants right away in order to prevent attracting any demonic beats and laid some customary stones as her grave. Yong poured wine over the shabby little headstone and said some prayers, before returning to join them. Their trip westwards slowly regained some normalcy the further they got from the Sima lands.

Jinu, Song, and Dami performed songs, chatted about the awful weather, and generally tried to lighten the mood after everything that'd just happened. Which was difficult, given the silent giant riding with them. Wook was the first to try talking to Yong, trotting alongside him.

"What was it like?" Yong blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"Being a farmer. It's all sheep and horses and animal husbandry in Changpo; I don't know anything about rice fields. Was it farming that made you so strong?" Wook gestured up and down Yong's tall and chiseled body.

"It was hard work," Yong said quietly, his hand gently reaching out to scratch his horse between the ears.

"Every morning we woke up early to feed the chickens, and I'd carry the pigs and cow out of the house to help sister clean. Then it was off to the rice paddies." ["Sorry, did he say carry the cow?"] Cyrus asked incredulously. ["I think he said care for,"] Song replied. ["Shh."]"You kept animals in your house?" Wook asked with a faint hint of disgust.

"Of course. They helped keep the home warm, and it prevented them from being stolen by bandits or getting sick from the cold and wet." Yong gestured at Wook's own stallion.

"Don't you Nakjin famously sleep with your horses?"

"That's vile slander by those who're jealous of our magnificent steeds!" Tae huffed from behind them.

"No matter how beautiful, a horse is still a horse, not a maiden. They stay out in the wet, the cold, and the hot. It toughens them up, and makes them the most powerful steeds in all of Murim!"

"They certainly are magnificent," Yong agreed, smiling faintly.

"Of course. These are Lee family horses. We raise the finest this side of Mount Tai," Wook thumped his chest proudly.

"And what about the bandits?" Wook asked quietly, after shooting a careful glance at Eunji.

"Was it a good fight?" Yong was silent for a while, his jaw set. Eventually he said simply, "It was as reaping heads of rice, but with a sword."

"That was quite poetic!" Tae said with admiration.

"Very evocative. And a perfect three character stanza! I'm a fan of the three and four character classics myself. I know Song and the younger generations swear by ballads and their narrative prose, but a good juxtaposition of clean characters with darker tones makes for more powerful writing in my opinion."

"You are a poet," Yong stated, sidestepping the question with ease.

"A good one!" Tae replied, pulling himself up proudly.

"He thinks he's a good one," Wook chuckled.

"You simply don't understand my genius." Tae sniffed.

"You'll see when we get to Chengdu. A few demonstrations at the local poetry houses and there'll be people beating down the door of the dabang asking for my works." Wook and Song laughed. Tae reddened, and asked Yong, "What about yourself? Do peasants perform poetry?" Yong shook his head.

"No."

"You seem quite well-spoken nonetheless," Tae eyed Yong suspiciously.

"Can you read and write?"

"I can read, some," Yong nodded.

"The village head taught us children. I can't write though."

"You should learn. It's through writing that we bring our thoughts into reality," Tae said firmly. Yong nodded seriously back, though in agreement or acquiescence it was hard to tell. Tae and Wook continued grilling Yong for hours. The young peasant had a quiet air that didn't quite reach aloof, though whether that was from his recent trauma or a character trait it was impossible to tell. At the same time, he was a pleasant conversationalist.

He was one of those people that Eldest Brother Juwon called 'a good listener' – attentive but not silent. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. However, at least one person in the party had some reservations. ["I don't like him,"] Cyrus huffed. ["You don't have to like him. We're just taking him to Chengdu."] Song chided. ["Oh, then why did Wook invited him to stay with us at the Dabang until he found his feet?] Song glanced over to where Wook was describing his training regime and herbal tonics to the silently listening Yong. Song sighed and gave his reins a flick to pull away. ["Elder Brother just wants to fight him. Auntie said there's a martial arena at the dabang."] ["Will he win?"] Song snorted louder than Bongbong, and his horse gave a shocked neigh. ["Yong's a peasant."] ["With the heavenly whatever. And he fought a dozen bandits. Alone."] ["The Heavenly Body. And he's still just a mortal. Maybe a first rate warrior at best. Brother's a cultivator. You can't compare them. Why don't you like him, anyway?"] ["He's too handsome."] Cyrus grumbled. Song held back a choke of laughter, ["That's all!?"] ["Eh. I dunno. There's just a feeling. Like a tremor on the edge of your mindscape whenever he's around. So faint I can't hear it, or even really sense it. Like a phantom sound I'm not sure I've heard, and when I turn to look it's gone."] Song didn't like that word,'phantom'.

["You think he's a ghost of the Simas? Or an inner demon?"] ["Nah, Jii already gave him a physical, right? I think he would've noticed anything wrong. It's probably just because I know he killed like, a dozen people. And that image of him standing in front of the pyre is kinda etched in my mind."] The memory of Yong, his eyes a pair of black pits reflecting a raging bonfire appeared in Song's head and he shook it away. ["I'll be careful around him, just for you."] ["You and Eunji. Have you noticed she's almost always nearby or watching him?"] ["Really?"] Song looked out the corner of his eye. Indeed, his great-aunt was hovering just a short distance from where Yong was chatting with Wook, seemingly watching the scenery with great disinterest. ["Yeah. Remember when everyone thought you were possessed and kept an eye on you? I think it's like that."]"Mmm…" Song faintly remembered teacher Iseul threatening him with a knife. Those had been some dark days. ["Anyway. When will we get to Chengdu?"] Cyrus asked, changing the subject. ["Auntie says about five or six more days."] ["Good. I can't wait to get out of this stinking rain."] ["You really don't like rain, do you."] ["Hey, I'm from Ontario, we do snow."] The next three days were a basic routine. They ate a simple breakfast of dried meat and bread, then packed up and headed westwards.

Their travel took them through more and more rice paddies that eventually made way for rolling hills of grass dotted with sheep and cows. Their circuitous route through the Sima lands had taken them away from the main roads, and most of the scenery was pastoral, with the odd peasant shack in the distance.

Each time the rain stopped, the grey wall of the Sichuan mountains was higher in the sky, as though the stoney peaks were reaching for the heavens. Soon enough their party rejoined the thoroughfares leading to Chengdu, where they ran into a contingent from the army, who stopped their group and demanded to know what riders of Nakjo were doing this close to the city. Eunji stepped forward and smoothed things over with the on-edge soldiers, who quickly became quite contrite and pliable.

From them, Eunji learned that the city had ordered a partial lock-down until the Foundation level Grasswolf had been found and dealt with. No high-ranking officials or dignitaries were allowed to enter Nakjo, and the number of patrols around the countryside had doubled. The lieutenant leading the soldiers floated the idea that the contingent from Changpo step up and aid the army, but Eunji immediately shot the idea down.

She needed to report in to Captain Cho, and wasn't about to take a ragtag group of children on patrol. It was at this point that the first guanzs and inns began to appear, and their evenings turned from wet sodden campfire affairs to warm beds and fine food. Eunji grumbled at the extra expense when their budget was so tight, but Jii insisted, and Song even paid for some of the meals out of his own gold.

Most of the food wasn't as good as what they'd had at the waystation; the meat was tough, and salt clearly took a second seat to hot peppers. Song also had his first experience with rice wines and fermented fruit cider. He found the rice wine enjoyable, but the cider just tasted like sour fruit. Still, it beat dry salted meat and soggy bread, that was for sure! Song even allowed Cyrus to come out once in a while and wolf down food and wine while they rested alone in their room.

Cyrus complained heartily that Song needed to hurry up and grow older so he could drink more. Song didn't see what the issue was, but the strange Canadian was adamant. One rainless morning the mountains were no longer in the distance. Three peaks, not quite tall enough to hold snow in this season, rose up over the horizon. Two were wooded, though one had a tall pagoda atop it. The third was covered in buildings and small specks that had to be people walking about.

A faint haze of smoke hung between the three mountains, like soup held within a bowl. There was a steady stream of people on the road, and their party was forced to move single file. It became increasingly difficult to tell peasants from city-dwellers or wandering cultivators. Nearly everyone was wearing oiled black coats and wide-brimmed straw hats to keep the rain off. It reminded Song of flocks of crows flitting between yurts, and he filed the thought away for later amusement.

That afternoon the walls of the city came into sight. They'd finally arrived. Chengdu!