Chapter Text
Once upon a day like any other, a beautiful lad was making return from day of work, gleefully heading to his home. There were two notable things about this lad. The first was that, although he was beautiful, both his robes and his body were covered in a visible layer of dirt; the second was that the place where he conducted his business was the ground at the margin of the street and, his home, but a communal house set up in the hulk of a ruined, deconsecrated temple.
Going by the name of Ol' Feng and begging for alms for a living, this lad was none other than the former Wind Master Qingxuan, who now dwelled among the lowliest of the Imperial Capital, still wearing a smile, while suffering a fate of poverty.
It had not been a bad day after all, not at all. As far as donations were concerned, the day had been quite extraordinary. Never since the first time he had first sat in the dust to beg for coins so many people had stopped to bestow their own. Some had been men and some had been women, many had been young and many had been old. Scholars, craftsmen and merchants had all elongated their hands and, on further thought, who had not? Shi Qingxuan was still wondering why it had been so and, at last, he attributed the event to some festive occasion, which he ignored the recurrence of. In the end, it did not matter, his smile was as shiny as the large amount money in his pouch. It would fill his stomach for many meals to come.
Such a great day; then, in the span of a few moments, everything became dull. As he walked in a deserted alley, leaning on a rough stick of wood, Shi Qingxuan noted that it was not just that the afternoon’s sky had become clouded, the atmosphere had also plummeted into a tense mood. Both his path and his heart were obscured. A light noise made him turn. Three large men had followed him for who knows how long and were now blocking one end of the alley. They were a sight to fear, for each of these men was wearing a ferocious scowl and carrying a stick sturdier than his own. With silent steps, they grew closer and Shi Qingxuan started to feel the weight of being alone. He began to run towards the main road, scrambling as he could, hoping it would be enough.
Once a cripple due to a few broken bones, Shi Qingxuan was rather slow. A leap of his was a stride of men like those and there was no getting away when they were nearing so close. One of the tugs was already at his heels, one was at his front. There was nowhere else to go. The third tug reached him with a leisurely pace and, once at his side, wielded his branch to knock Shi Qingxuan’s walking stick out of his hand and then hit again, beating his worse-off leg with a strong blow, making Shi Qingxuan fall. The prey was down and the three men eyed his pouch, anticipating its coins, but they were fast and without need to rush, so they let him crawl.
“Help! Help!” Shi Qingxuan cried towards the faraway street. “Somebody come!”
The passersby who heard walked forth. Some windows in the alley closed. What a change from the generosity he had received till not an hour before.
“Help! Help!” one of the three men mocked. They all laughed in scorn.
“Just drop the money and we’ll let you leave,” his associate said, slick with his tongue.
With great bitterness, Shi Qingxuan untied his pouch and left it on the floor. His eyes thinned from the anger, but he continued to crawl, feeling in his mouth the taste of the city’s dust. As much as he wanted to argue, he quashed his proud words. There was no need to risk his life over a pouch of coins and, despite the humiliation, all would be well, as long as he would be allowed to go.
“Not so fast,” the slicker tug said, ending his crawling by pressing a boot on his naked foot. “Besides, where do you have to go? Stay with us, what else have you got?”
Shi Qingxuan shook his scared head to convey he had nothing else to rob.
“He has a nice fan,” the men started again.
“He has nice teeth, we should take them all.”
“Did anyone bring tongs?”
Below them, Shi Qingxuan raised his arm to beg.
“Please, just let me go…” he pleaded, but a branch hit his hand and beat it down. A few instants passed and then the staff hit his back too. To one strike soon followed a second, a third and a fourth.
In the haze of desperation, Shi Qingxuan perceived the tall figure dressed in dark robes walking assuredly into the cursed alley. The figure was dark, but, to him, it was a ray of hope. Gathering all the strength that had remained in his limbs, he sprang out of the circle and run towards the person whom he had determined to be his saviour to hide behind his robes.
When faced with the newcomer, the three tugs froze. They did not seem to know who he was, but they clearly understood whose side he was on. Slowly, Shi Qingxuan’s eyes rose to look at the features of the man who had stepped into the ambush and, what he saw, it stopped his heart and chilled his bones.
His hands left the black robes behind which he had been hiding, his knees retreated, their skin scratching on the dirt, his head bowed to the ground, all of the confidence in his own righteousness gone. This happened just a moment after he had taken in the identity of the one who had come. He was shaking much harder than before, for this was the man from which he had robbed it all.
A deep silence descended onto the scene. Shi Qingxuan possessed no breaths to turn into speech, the three rascals had had their voice drawn, as retribution in the form of a spell had sealed their throats, all the while, the dark figure stood taciturn, as he commanded their forms. Peeking from under his arm, Shi Qingxuan watched the three tugs’ bodies as they stretched upward, suffocating, and then dropped on the ground, done for.
Shi Qingxuan did not dare speak, yet, after feeling the prolonged stare of his benefactor’s eyes on his prone back, he remember that, towards this man, courtesy was not a question of courage, but a must. Thus, he raised his head.
“I thank you, Lord Black Water,” he hoarsely spoke.
A voice above him scoffed.
“No need to thank.”
The lord’s tone was just as cold as he deserved. Shi Qingxuan was ashamed to recollect that, since he was spared at Nether Water Manor and started living as a beggar in the Imperial Capital, it was the third time that Ship-Sinking Black Water had provided him succour, increasing the moral debt he had towards him.
“Even without thanks, you saved me…” Shi Qingxuan said. “Again.”
“It’s because you don’t save yourself,” Black Water responded bleakly.
“I tried but I can’t! My injuries…”
“Did I not heal them?”
He had, a while back. It was the second time they had met. The first, he had loaned him spiritual energy and returned his fan. The second he had brought him medicine and fixed his arm and leg, as said. Shi Qingxuan buried his head.
“My lord healed them,” he said, “but the pain, somehow, remains.”
“And who lets it remain?” Black Water asked.
The other looked within himself and could not reply because of the guilt.
“You,” Ship-Sinking Black Water continued, “you don’t work on your future, you don’t cure your ailments, you don’t even wash yourself… When you have the means to escape misery, you give them away. When you have the health to earn a wage, you let your body break, and, all along, you laugh, as if the pit of wretchedness was where you were meant to stay. Then, you ask for others’ help, when you should have strengthened yourself. Anyway, next time, you help yourself.”
With that said, the ghost king made to go. He had almost completed a Distance-Shortening array, using one of the tug’s branches to write on the dirt, when a weak voice made his hand stop.
“It was you who donated this money today, was it not?” Shi Qingxuan feebly enquired, recovering his pouch. “All those men and women, were they not your clones?”
The ghost king ignored him and, with a single stroke, concluded his work. Still, Shi Qingxuan felt there were some things that needed to be said before he was gone. He stood up just enough to scuttle to Black Water’s feet and resume his bow.
“I know I am in your debt,” he said, with his eyes low. “Whatever you may ask of me, you can have, be it even my death.”
Black Water distanced himself and gave him a glare.
“What use is offering me anything I might want, when you already refused to do the one thing I asked of you.”
It was that, once, he had asked the Lord Wind Master to stand at his side, against the Wind Master’s brother. Lacking the entire picture, the Wind Master had blindly chosen the side of the latter.
“Lord Black Water…” Shi Qingxuan began.
“Shut up,” the other murmured.
“No, Lord Black Water, you can have anything of mine, even my life, but I cannot give you the life another. My brother’s life was yours to take, but not mine to deliver. However, I recognize that I was wrong in wanting to help him pass his third calamity. For his crimes towards you and for my profiting off your good fate, it was my responsibility to endorse his and my banning from heaven. I offer you my life in earnest, because I know you take insult at my apologies.”
“Tsk!”
A short reply to a well thought speech. Ship-Sinking Black Water disposed of the branch and commenced to pace in front of him. Both his anger and his restraint were betrayed by the strain put of his closed fist.
“It’s too convenient,” the ghost king said, exhaling a profound breath, “for you to offer me your life, knowing that I don’t wish for your death.”
“Then,” Shi Qingxuan searched for the right answer, “then… Then take my life by having me as your servant for as long as I will live. That way, I can repay a small part of my debt.”
“A servant? And what can you do to serve me, you are spoiled!”
“I am no longer spoiled, I can do whatever you ask of me. I could clean! I could do chores!”
“So you would scrub my floors?”
“I would, of every room and every hall!”
“And you would wash my dishes…”
“I would wash them all!”
“Remember that I eat a lot. Then, lastly, will you cook?”
Although Shi Qingxuan was ready to assent, something in the last question sent him, for a second, in a state of shock. His vision was filled with the quiet smile of a man he had dearly loved, as he ate his beloved soup, his ears repeated the memory of the name ‘Ming-xiong’.
“I will cook anything you want…”
Ship-Sinking Black Water seemed to genuinely consider the proposal as an option.
“Alright,” he said, pointing at the Distance-Shortening array. “Follow me home.”