BOC AU: Elder, But Younger Sister, Chapter 4: Disciple, Scholar, Doctor.

Another Au Chapter. Mainline BOC will resume in November!

And this chapter is actualy edited a bit, lol

=================

==============

I finished up my preparations for our picnic that we would be having later today, and cleaned up the rest of the dishes. I had always liked cooking, even in the Before—there was something calming about it. That, and when you were finished, you got to share something nice with other people.

I gave one last glance to where the Old Man… I guess Pops, now, and Qingyi were. They were both under a tree I myself had spent plenty of hours under. The old man had his hands on Qingyi’s back, perfectly serene. Qingyi had the same expression… but sweat was pouring off her face, and her breathing was deep. Her Qi wavered around her body, a light sheen of steel grey energy that felt sharp even from here.

I mentally wished her luck… and wandered out into the city. It was familiar to me now; the flagstones feeling right under my feet. Whereas before it had been a strange stone jungle to me, now, I could probably get to most places with my eyes closed.

I picked a direction and started walking. The city, for the most part, flowed around me. Quite a lot of people recognised me and bowed in my direction, but they seemed to get the sense that I wanted to be left alone for the moment.

The entire thing was just… really sinking in now.

I had actually thought my time with the old man had been coming to an end. He had been gone more and more recently; I had imagined it would be kind of like an apprenticeship. He would tell me to go out into the world one day… and that might be the last I saw of him.

Instead, I suddenly had a father and a sister… and that father was an Imperial Realm Cultivator. That somehow I had helped by giving him ideas on how to save his daughter.

It was kind of overwhelming… but if there was one thing I had learned, it was that life changes like the wind.

And after eight years as Shen Yu's student… my life had certainly changed a lot.

===================================

When I originally started living with the old man, the first thing I felt was relief. It was relieving to have purpose and structure, instead of adrift on my own and worrying about every moment.

I had food and shelter, and that was a blessing.

But it wasn’t a free ride.

The first thing that one learns is that cultivation is hard.

The endless hours of meditation were one thing. I thought I would have a head start or something in feeling my Qi—I thought I would be able to feel an energy foreign to me, but it was like trying to feel that my stomach was digesting food, or like manually trying to pump my heart. Maybe once or twice I caught a flicker of something… but it was fleeting.

In addition to the meditation and studying of medical texts the old man gave me, there was the physical aspect. A healthy cultivation resided in a healthy body. In between the meditations, there were hours of body-strengthening exercises—to be a cultivator was to be a full-time athlete.

Every day was a kung-fu training montage. Squatting with buckets of water held in my hands. Running through obstacle courses. Crunches while hanging upside down from a bar. Punching and kicking wooden posts for hours on end.

I had been a hockey guy, and was no stranger to at least some training. Pumping iron in the gym was one thing, but this was something else. 

And then there was the actual sparring. There's no two ways around it. Learning to fight like this means you get hit… but there was never any cruelty in the old man’s blows.

“The life of a cultivator is painful,” he told me simply. “You shall learn that pain now, when you are safe, rather than at the hands of one who will truly hurt you.”

He watched my training like a hawk. He pushed me to the limit… but he never pushed me past it. Nothing was crude about my exercises. This had the air of techniques that had been studied and weighed in exhausting detail, and then were still being refined so it would better match my body.

With it, and the regular meals I was getting, I went from a bag of bones with whipcord desperation muscle to looking kind of like a normal kid. Hells, the old guy even wanted a bit of fat on me, saying I needed it at this stage in my growth.

Despite all this I still did have some free time—sometimes entire days where he told me just to do whatever I wanted, and more than that he actually seemed curious about what I would do.

We ended up hanging out more than I expected, which normally turned out to be the Imperial Archives.  I was an internet kid. I liked the deep trawls on random subjects… and well, it helped me learn to read faster.

==================

“So this is where you got the idea for the hives from?” the old man asked, looking at the drawings of the interior of a bee hive. The Useful Insects of Raging Waterfall Gorge was a hefty scroll.

“Yeah. The guy who was teaching me was studying this, something about a position that had to do with honey, wax, and dye.” Which wasn’t even a lie. He had been using this scroll. It's just that the beehives depicted as “standard” were not what I was used to. Hells, I didn’t even know there were other ways to do bee hives, but this one you had to smash open to get at the honey seemed… really inefficient. “They look like a cupboard with slide-out doors. So I thought… what if you can just slide them out?”

“When you put it like that it seems rather obvious,” he said, stroking his beard. One hand landed on my head and he ruffled my hair. Then, he sat down, and really started looking around at the rows and rows of scrolls. “I have never actually been inside one of these places before. I still remember thinking not much would come of this initiative, when it was first being discussed.” 

I paused at his statement.

“Ain’t these supposed to be like three hundred years old? Damn, you really are an Old Man,” I said.

The old guy gave me a small smile. “Indeed, I am truly ancient,” he then sighed, and glanced at the scrolls again. “It’s an interesting place. I can see some uses for mortals in this… but I still find it strange that people willingly share such things. What about you, Jin? Shall you add your discoveries to this place?”

“Yeah, after I make my silver on it,” I replied. The old man turned to look at me fully.

“Oh?”

“The design is simple enough that it's gonna get stolen at some point eventually. But besides that… this place helped me out a lot, yanno? Gotta pay it back somehow,” I said.

It really was a useful place. It just needed better PR. Like a mailing list or something curated by senior scribes? A newsletter for new discoveries? Eh, I didn’t know.

“Repay every kindness and every grudge one receives a thousand fold,” the old man replied, his face severe, before he softened, and his lips quirked up. “So your gift to the Empire shall be honey candies on every corner—more than most can claim.”

I chuckled at his own amusement.

“The honey is nice, but that's not why they’re useful. I dunno how much you know about mortals, old timer, but we really need the wax.”

The old man raised a brow.

“Shipping, sailing, forging, leatherworking, candlemaking, medicine—those doctors in the books say it kills those little germ fellas real good, so you can probably even use it to seal countertops and cutting boards—every little bit counts when you’re fighting against a plague.” I felt a glimmer of emotion from deep inside as I said that, images of Rou’s parents flashing before my eyes. “That’s not even mentioning the ladies and their makeup, or the farmers.”

The Old Man was stroking his beard, his brow furrowed.

“That… is indeed something,” he said after a moment. “When you desire to add your hives to this place, tell me. I may know some ears that can get it the recognition it deserves.”

“You know some bigwig scribe or something?” I asked.

“Something like that,” the old man agreed, a glimmer of a smile on his face.

=========================

We found some pretty interesting stuff at the Archives over the years. Designs for a primitive still, a couple of formulas that used Qi which went right over my head but the old man seemed to find interesting enough that he copied them down.

And when I wasn’t at the Archives, I was at the docks. Crimson Crucible City was the center hub for a massive trade route, and was the fastest way to get to get from the west coast to Phoenix Rest Plains without having to go all the way around the southern tip of the continent—even if that route required ships to be literally lifted up a kilometers-tall waterfall.

The docks were amazing. There were so many people, from all walks of life, that had so many different fruits and vegetables. A bunch of them were dried, of course, but I lucked out and got some tomatoes and potatoes from a guy from Yellow Rock Plateau, which improved both our lives tremendously once I managed to grow a couple. I had really missed potatoes especially. Fried potatoes were justice!

That, and it was just fun to sit about, and listen to the sailors. A hundred different dialects, a hundred different stories. Hells, I had even heard what sounded like Japanese once—some guys from an island called Wa were calling each other idiots, which was pretty funny.

It also provided an excuse. “Where did you learn that?” was easy to answer when I could just say “at the docks.”

For the first year, that was my life. Training, eating, sleeping, learning. Occasionally, I would see people I knew on the street, and they would ask me how I was doing—people from the brothels, or the aunties and uncles who swept the streets.

I was touched that they cared enough to ask about me… and more than that, they seemed happy for me. A random kid who had made it.

It probably also helped that I could splint a sprained finger, or at least give them a rough idea of what was going on, thanks to the medical books the old man had given me.

And then, at the end of the year, I finally ignited my dantian.

There are barely words to describe it. It felt like I had some kind of engine in my chest. The world suddenly became sharper, my breath easier.

It felt like I could conquer the world.

==========================

The old man just seemed amused when I told him I was going out—because he had me exactly pegged.

“Don’t try and climb any of the governmental buildings. They have alarm wards,” he informed me.

And then, he let me go.

I immediately fulfilled a childhood dream. With one jump, I was on the rooftops…and then bounding along them like a ninja.

Each leap sent me flying, gravity almost a mere afterthought. Its hold on me felt tenuous at best. I sped through the air with impossible grace. I covered a walk that should have taken me an hour in seconds. I scaled the tiered city, going higher and higher, up the side of the Cloudy Mountain—until I could see it, the entire city.

It was dusk, and all the lights were lit. Lanterns, candles, and glowstone stretched out below me like stars.

I looked out over the big city, with its shimmering, glittering lights, and thousands of ships plying the rivers.

It took my breath away.

And there was only one song that suited a big city, and this moment. I wasn’t much of a Sinatra guy. But right here? It really was fitting.

“And now, the start is here. And so I face a rising curtain~”

I was a cultivator. I had super powers. A life of more than toil was within my grasp. All I had to do was reach out and take it.

“My friend, I'll say it clear, I'll state my case, of which I'm certain~

I’ll live a life that's full. I’ll travel each and every highway—!”

A massive grin spread across my face.

“And more, much more than this—I’ll do it my way~” I whispered.

The wind blew, and tousled my hair. Then, I snorted, and started laughing.

Man, I was being a massive drama queen. But the thoughts still lingered. There was less of a weight on my chest. I figured… I would be alright.

===================

Life after awakening my cultivation was actually much the same. Meditate, train, study… and even learn how to use medical Qi, which could heal people.

The old man said that my growth rate in the beginning was “a bit slow”, but that was fine with me. Slow and steady wins the race! No point in getting a complex about it.

And then, that was when the old man took the first of his trips.

“I shall be gone for a week, or thereabouts,” he told me one day. “I have business to attend to. Continue your training.”

So that's what I did.

It was a little weird that he was gone, after being a constant presence in my life for the entire year, but it wasn’t bad. I had a pretty set regimen by this point.

The old man came back to pasta and meatballs in tomato sauce, as well as some of the booze he liked. He was taking care of me; might as well give him a nice place to come back to.

==========================

And so that was the way the years passed. The old man was a good roommate… and pretty fun to tease. He seemed to like it when I pranked him. Other than that, cultivation, medicine, cooking, talking with the traders, and building a small empire of honey… I had basically the entire red-light district buying exclusively from me, and the high-end candlemakers really, really liked what I brought in.

Not that I really needed the money. The occasional indulgence of tea or sweets was a drop in the bucket. My actual food and all of my expenses were paid for by the old man, and he told me to tell him if I wanted anything cultivation related.

I honestly thought I would be choking down pills, like in the stories, but the old man never got any for me. He said that I didn't need them at this stage. What he did get me, though, after I asked, was a recording crystal, after I mentioned wanting one to test out a medical technique. 

It was nice to have a video camera… and nicer still to have a medium for the idea I had.

Medicinal Qi was very interesting. The feel of it. The taste of it. Refining it out of my own Qi was a chore, but it was useful as all hell. And while I had been far from a doctor in my past life, there were some ideas I had that worked rather well here.

X-rays and MRIs were always useful, weren’t they?

The old man had been rather impressed when I projected a grainy, green-tinted image of my own beating heart against the wall using the recording crystal.

“Continue refining this technique,” he commanded me.

He left again for a week not long after, and this time he came back to a bottle of mead. The old man seemed touched.

=======================

When I was fourteen, I was told I was skilled enough that I could start using my medicinal Qi on other humans.

At first I was a little leery about it… but one day one of the street sweepers broke his leg real badly. Bone sticking out, a nicked artery. Everybody thought he was going to die.

Without thinking about it, I healed him. It was the biggest wound I had ever healed on a human, getting his bone back in, sealing the artery shut, and finally, putting the flesh of his leg back together.

The people who had been friendly before now looked at me like I was some kind of god.

The man I healed, Hao Da, swore his eternal allegiance to me. It was kind of a scene, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I ended up putting him in charge of my beehives, because it was getting a bit too large of an operation for me to handle alone.

If I’d hesitated, itwould have cost Hao Da his life. And how many times had I been terrified of hurting myself and dying, with no access to medical care?

I spoke to the old man about it. Then to some of the people of the back streets.

The next month, the Soft Gold clinic opened.

Pay what you can. It's fine if you can't.

The first couple of months were very, very busy… but I certainly got a lot of practice. Some of the courtesans turned into secretaries and nurses.

I could have done without the nickname though. The Medical Saint of the Lower Wards? It made me blush every time I heard it.

==============================

Not everything was sunshine and rainbows.

Some of the gangs… well, they noticed Hao Da making some new deals with the upper wards, and how much money he was coming back with… and tried to do some tax collection.

Hao Da refused. They didn’t believe him about having a cultivator boss… and decided to make an example out of him.

It took everything I had to save his life when his wife found him laying in the gutter.

At first I thought it was a one-off. And then more gangers came around, trying to intimidate people, and trying to get at how I was getting all the honey.

They beat one of the washer girls just for the hell of it.

I would like to say that I was quite thankful that the Greeks didn’t exist here… and I had sworn no oath.

Because I was about to do a lot of fuckin’ harm.

=============================

Shen Yu looked upon the young man standing before him. His face was hard, and he stood at attention like he was a soldier, his face blank. He awaited Shen Yu’s judgment for his actions.

In his righteous, youthful anger, he had marched out to what he thought to be the headquarters of his enemy, and laid low all within it.

And yet, it turned out not to be their headquarters… but a mere outpost. And now Jin found himself in direct opposition to one of the largest gangs in the city—which had some petty practitioners of their own. Shen Yu would not give them any face by considering the trash cultivators.

Shen Yu understood Jin’s fury well. What was his had been damaged. He had been slighted. Slighted by gangsters. Shen Yu felt his lip curl in disgust.

There was no shame in coming from the gutter. One could not control the circumstances of their birth. There was no shame if one barely kept their head above the water; fate could be cruel, and if they tried to live righteously despite that, they could even be admired.

But it was disgusting that some saw the gutter, and never strived for more. They enjoyed wallowing in the filth. They bathed and basked in it.

They were not worthy to be called people. 

“Why would I be angry at your actions, Jin?” he finally asked. “Do you regret what you did?”

“...some of what I did, yeah. I went in too fast. And now… I’ve started something I don't know if I can control,” the young man answered.

Shen Yu nodded.

“And yet you have started it anyway. What shall you do now?”

It was a test. Shen Yu wished to see what Jin would do. If things did actually get out of hand, Shen Yu would simply destroy the gang. Jin was Shen Yu’s disciple. The disrespect the human trash had shown him was almost too much for him to stay put already.

“I guess I’ll have to end it,” Jin said with finality. “The only way these bastards will accept ‘compromise’ is if me and the others are all under their boots. So violence it is.”

Magnificent resolve.

Shen Yu sat back to watch—and once more Jin rose to the occasion.

======================

His dear disciple’s rage had at first burnt hot—but it quickly turned into a cold, dangerous smoulder when he realised the scale of his enemy.

Jin desired the gang’s complete and utter destruction for their insults, and while he could simply stride in and smash them… some might escape.

Thus Jin began his slow, methodical strangulation.

With the cunning of a street rat who knew every bolt hole, he stalked them… and then arranged accidents. Run-ins with suddenly alert guards. Hideouts unexpectedly raided by other gangs. And simple disappearances… only for the men to be caught trespassing in noblemen’s manors, or not found again. It was a subtle thing, but it still provoked panic in the gang.

He was aided in his efforts by those who had grown to love him. The Medical Saint of the Lower Wards had his own allies. The Red Ladies whispered sweet nothings, and bribed guards were suddenly much more alert in their duties. Pillow talk unveiled more safehouses. One of the architects of the assault on the washer girl died in his sleep, sedated… and then positioned so it looked like he choked on his own vomit and asphyxiated..

The street sweepers and nightsoil collectors, the untouchables that no other doctor had the time of day for, walked where they pleased, unnoticed because they were everywhere. Huo Da had been one of theirs. Jin had been one of theirs.

Nobody ever found the bodies of the gangsters they slew—because when they were finished, the road was spotless.

It was a private, quiet war.

And then the gangsters did something so stupid Shen Yu was utterly baffled.

=======================

Lu Ri, Senior Disciple of the Cloudy Sword Sect, frowned at the notice that had landed on his desk, surprised that it had come through this pile. A tip from a mortal of The Crucible, warning the Cloudy Sword Sect of an insidious cultivator who was preying on the populace?

He frowned heavily. Such a claim was absurd, but it had to be investigated. What cultivator dared to make trouble in the Cloudy Sword Sect’s territory?

The Cloudy Sword Sect normally left the governance of the city alone.  They were high up in the clouds, focusing on cultivation, and those closer to the problems could better address them. That, and the younger generations would never learn if the Elders of the Cloudy Sword arranged everything for them.

It was an official report, so Lu Ri would have to go and see what it was about. A Senior Disciple was supposed to inform the Elders, but Lu Ri doubted this would be read. All of the Elders had been distracted for the past 300 years, according to Lu Ri’s seniors. Elder Ge and Elder Ran in particular had been gone for the past ten years. It surely had to be something important, to consume their attention so thoroughly.

He dutifully informed his superiors, and descended into the city to meet with the man who had this information.

It was a most concerning tale. Some snake oil salesman of a Demonic Cultivator corrupting courtesans and seducing honest folk with fake medicine was truthfully concerning, but there was something about it that didn’t sit right with Lu Ri.

And it further did not sit right when the man providing this information urged him to take action.

Lu Ri was quite certain the man was lying… but he looked into things just in case, after marking the informant with an invisible seal so he could find him again.

Indeed, the guards did have knowledge of a cultivator in the Lower Wards. A cultivator who operated a free clinic; there had been several incidents between him and the Crimson Axe Gang.

So the Senior Disciple investigated the cultivator who was so brazenly causing disturbances.

What he found was no demonic cultivator… but an earnest young man. The Lower Wards had nothing but good things to say about him. His medicine was real, and not demonic in nature at all.

Lu Ri even approached the young man in disguise while he was in the Archives; The Medical Saint of the Lower Wards was dedicating himself to scholarly pursuits, as was right.

“Are you studying for the entrance exams of the Cloudy Sword Sect?” Lu Ri asked. The ‘medical saint’ looked up at Lu Ri, noting his robes, before shaking his head.

“I don't think a man like me would be welcome in such august halls,” the young man replied. “I’m probably a bit too much of a street rat. What about yourself? You don't see too many cultivators in the Archives.”

“I confess myself curious. It's such a big building, and with so many scrolls. There must be something of value here, no?” Lu Ri asked.

“I have actually seen a few cultivation formations,” the young man replied. 

Lu Ri raised a brow. “Truly? Ah, forgive my manners, this one is Rua Li.”

“Jin. But yeah, they’re over here,” Jin said, and actually showed Lu Ri the way.

Indeed, there were cultivation formations. Not particularly good ones that Lu Ri could see, but some of the ideas presented did have promise…

They ended up having a rousing discussion on the matter of the Archives; for all his youth, the young man was smart.

“This place has a big problem in how it's presented, mostly. I had an idea for a mailing list, or something. For a small fee, or even free, you get a letter detailing a list of interesting discoveries—you could even say you only want things pertaining to certain fields. And then you go to the Archive and you can read this ‘interesting new addition’. But I don’t know how it would work, really, with the mail being what it is…”

It was a good idea—and then they went off on a tangent about mail that was absolutely fascinating. Lu Ri was engrossed for an entire two hours. The ideas he presented, in connecting the Empire together, of postal codes… it was quite brilliant.

But eventually, Jin apologised, saying he had to leave.

Lu Ri wished him well—and hoped in a few years time the young man would reconsider his stance on the entrance exam.

Or perhaps Lu Ri could find him?

He frowned deeply as Jin left. According to protocol, Lu Ri was supposed to detain the man anyway, and bring him in for questioning. And yet, he was by all measures a righteous cultivator, and Lu Ri had recently read a passage from the Honoured Founders on how to resolve such a situation.

Lu Ri left Jin to his own devices, walking out of the Archives. Instead… something would be done about the gangs. They had tried to deceive the Cloudy Sword Sect.

“Oh? Are you not supposed to detain rogue cultivators?” an amused voice asked from directly behind Lu Ri when he turned down a side street, on his way back to the sect.

He froze, sweat beading on his back and face at the sheer power that had suddenly snapped into existence behind him.

Senior Disciple Lu Ri was grateful for his Senior Sister, and her instilling in him a resistance to the intent of such powerful cultivators.

Lu Ri answered carefully. “Thus spoke the Honoured Founders: ‘Impede not the path of the righteous. Assist them on their way.’”

There was a deep chuckle from behind him. “That was an excellent answer—you speak the words of the Honoured Founders, and follow their lessons well. What is your name, boy? You may turn around, and address me.”

Lu Ri did as he was told, and it took all of his composure to keep the shock off his face. Because he knew this man. He was a frequent visitor to the Sect, always in the company of one of the Elders.

“This one is Senior Disciple Lu Ri, Great Expert,” Lu Ri replied.

“Ah, I’ve seen you once or twice I think. Lu Ri, hm?” the Great Expert said. “What are your plans now, pertaining to the gangs?”

“They attempted to deceive the Cloudy Sword Sect; they must be held to account for this sin.”

The immensely powerful cultivator stroked his beard. “My disciple is distinguishing himself in this case, and I would ask for you to stay your sword; but I shall not deny the Cloudy Sword its pound of flesh. There are other outposts outside the walls; and a main compound in Rainfall Span. I shall give these locations to you.”

Lu Ri considered the offer. A good friend of the Elders was asking for a favour. “Then I shall see them destroyed, Great Expert, and shall entrust the rest of this matter to you.”

The Great Expert smiled. 

“Ah, you're a good egg, Lu Ri. I shall tell my Sister Yukong of your understanding in this matter.”

Lu Ri went back to the Sect , to prepare himself for a short journey. But one thing bothered him. Why did the gangs think this would work? He decided to check the reports of the past disciples about “rowdy cultivators” they had received.

There were twelve of them in the past hundred years. Each one was marked as a rote detainment. Two of them were still in the deepest parts of the Crucible Prison Complex, covered in binders and seals to suppress their cultivation.

Lu Ri suddenly felt a headache coming on.

===============================

Shen Yu watched with pride as the gangsters got more and more desperate. 

Eventually, a meeting was called. All hands to address the attacks.

And only then did Jin strike. There was no gloating. No grandstanding. Just methodical annihilation. Jin broke every man he came across, shattering limbs or choking them until they passed out.

His only flaw was his reluctance to kill; he left most of them alive for the guards.. But he was still young, and a compassionate soul. He still had more growing to do.

Shen Yu even said a prayer of thanks for the gang, when they unveiled their final test. A beast in the Initiate’s Realm, slightly higher than Jin.

He was an ill-trained brute, drunk on tormenting the weak, but it was enough of a battle for Jin. It was hard fought, the man’s greater experience making up for the clear difference in skill—but in the end, Shen Yu’s disciple triumphed.

With a split lip and a bloody nose and bruises all over his chest and arms.

Shen Yu wondered what Jin was feeling in that moment, his first true victory.

===================================

Man, that fucking sucked.

My entire body hurt. This had been an ill thought out adventure, and I would be happy if I never had to do it again.

I was just lucky none of the other gangs tried to jump me.

But... it was over now. Hopefully.

I couldn’t wait to go back to not worrying about this kind of thing.

…though, with an attitude like that, was I really cut out to be a cultivator?

I didn’t know.

But what I did know… was that the party afterwards was pretty sweet.

==========================================

And so the years continued on. It was pretty peaceful after that big fight. None of the other gangs wanted to try their luck. I hung out with Rua Li a few more times—chill guy, and very interested in the mail. I actually think he was going to do something about it.

I translated some songs into the language. The old man seemed to really like Sinatra. I made new dishes, from the bounty the traders brought in.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.

The old man went away more and more. My little operation grew, and I taught a few other people how to use simple medical techniques. It took ages, but I actually managed, with the old man’s help, to make a medical formation for my “MRI” technique.

All a mortal needed was a formation tag and a recording crystal. No big tubes, no helium needed.

Another thing for the Archives, when I finally got around to it.

I trained and made booze for the old man. I let others handle the hives and the clinic most of the time. They were getting really good at it. I was at the Fifth Stage of the Initiate’s Realm, nearly into the Profound.

And so I started planning my next moves, as I trained. Would I travel the world? Where would I go when the old man left me to my own devices?

In fact, that was exactly on my mind when a woman fell out of the sky, and then jumped on me, proclaiming me her little brother.

=======================================

I let out a breath, as I neared my destination. It was a place I avoided most of the time.

The ward where Rou had lived.

The ward where his parents had died.

The only thing that told me it was the right place was the name on the entrance gate, the layout wholly unfamiliar to me. There was no shop on the corner that sold sweets. There was not the tavern his parents had run. He had no personal affects. No relatives.

Rou didn’t even have their bones. Everyone who had died and every building they had died in had been consigned to the pyre. The entire ward was rebuilt from the ground up.

There was only one thing left of them. Down a back alley. Where the tavern used to be. A simple, scratched, barely legible carving on one of the city’s internal walls—the only characters Rou had known back then.

Jin Shi

Ju Fuhua

…it was the place I had woken up in. It was the place where Rou himself had died.

I slid down the other wall of the alley, until I was sitting. 

I didn’t really know why I was here. Did I want to apologise to them? Did the part of me that was Rou feel guilty about what I had done, accepting another father?

I mulled over the answer. It was a strange feeling in my chest, as I carefully sorted out Rou’s memories of his parents.

I saw his father’s small smile, his green eyes sparkling. I saw his mother’s big grin, her freckles stretched across her cheeks.

They had always wanted the best for their son.

In the back of my mind, I could almost see Fuhua’s mischievous grin as she made a money sign with her hand. 

Shi laughed at his wife’s antics, his smile warm.

I let out a breath.

I pulled out a small bottle of alcohol, and put it in front of the carving. I bowed three times to the names of parents I had never truly met.

And then I started the walk back to where I lived.

Of course, I got interrupted by somebody calling for “Master Medical Saint!” in a panicked voice.

I sighed. Well, no rest for the wicked.

“What’s going on, and how badly are they hurt?” I asked, putting on my game face.

============================

===========================

Edited by:  BargleNawdleZouss,