BOC AU: The Joyous Song of Yellow Rocks

Yellow Rock Plateau World Building, and a kind of "what if" if Jin descided to go somewhere else. Also making a contract with a non-shattered earth Spirit who has had a contractor before.

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As I searched the archive in Crimson Crucible City for a place to go to, I pondered. I was looking at the entry for the Azure Hills. It sounded like something I would want; but…. The book spelled out how there was basically no Qi at all. The person who wrote the piece was appalled that only a single fountain in the capital of the province was powered by a water crystal. He spoke about the filth and the squalor, and how the people lived without any Qi at all.

Despite everything, this was a fantasy world. Crimson Crucible City was a marvel. Did I really want to go to the most mundane of mundane places?

I sighed as I considered my options. No cultivator shit. Farming definitely had an appeal…. And this world was a beautiful, fantastic place. Even if I was scared…. Should I run away that completely? I always liked fantasy stories…

….maybe somewhere other than the Azure Hills.

My eyes glanced down the page, until I found what I thought looked like an interesting place.

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In the end… I made a compromise. Not to the Azure Hills, but the next province over, Yellow Rock Plateau. If there was too much cultivation bullshit, the Azure Hills were right there.

With me at my destination, I slowed, and took the scenic route—I walked along the edge of the Plateau—a sheer cliff a kilometer high that overlooked the Azure Hills below. The view was truly spectacular, and one day, I even saw a mountain in the distance that looked like it had been cut in two.

And then, I turned my feet to the interior of the province, still searching for a place to call my own.

Most people lived in the “lowlands” of Yellow Rock Plateau. The places with more water, because outside those lowlands, the place quickly turned arid—so arid there was even a small desert in the middle of the province. The lowlands were controlled by the Sects, and looked about the same as any other place in the Empire. But when you ventured outside of that? That's when things started to change.

Honestly, the province reminded me quite a bit of mexico—or at least the people wearing ponchos did. The tribes of Yellow Rock Plateau made their living in the so-called scrublands, and interested, I checked it out.

The sight took my breath away. It was a stark beauty, the craggy earth, the massive mesas jutting up out of the ground, and most of all…. The cactuses.

The smallest of them looked to be the size of a two story house. The largest was as tall as a skyscraper. They were full of holes and nests, as thousands of birds and bats used them as houses, and the tribal people carved their own villages into the biggest.

Some were tall and spindly, with thousands of arms. Others were more like classic giant cactuses. And others were barrels so big they defied the mind. They sat, parched on the horizon like living mountains.

It just looked… so incredible. So fantastical.

I was instantly smitten.

I found a remote village, far from any sect’s area of influence, and then started poking around.

I found a great place; in between two mesas. It was covered in rocks, and the soil wasn’t the best… but it had water, and shelter. The crops I had in my cart were familiar to me. Beans, corn, wheat and rice.

But the best thing? The best thing was the view. It was on top of a little cliff, overlooking the scrublands. I just stood there for a while. A band of what looked like chocobos sprinted across the uneven ground, and trilled melodiously. Giant tortoises plodded forwards, munching on the bounty of spiky vegetation. And then, as sunset began, the noises started. From the holes in the cactuses, birds with massive bills formed up the brass section, starting slowly, until one particularly massive specimen took the lead, and then they all started playing the same melody; The calls of toads formed the percussion; deep and rumbling. And finally, the insects , great and small, scurried out of their holes to play the strings and the woodwinds.

It was a natural orchestra. Organized, without any chaos, save for the guitar-like twangs near my house—which turned out to be a pair of lizards that held their tail in their mouth, and plucked it with their claws.

Both little beasts glared at each other, their tunnels on opposite sides of my little valley, the call and return of their song sounding spectacularly spiteful.

But soon, the sun faded, completely, and the grand band slowly petered out. Then, all that was left was the silence.

I stared out over the scrublands, and scratched by rooster’s wattles. It was a beautiful night. It was pretty chilly, but I was warm under my poncho, and the beauty of the stars chased the rest of the chill away.

“You in the morning, and this at night, eh?” I asked Big D. “I won’t be lacking for entertainment, that's for certain.”

The rooster preened under my touch—and then let out a very musical crow.

Yellow Rock Roosters were said to have the best singing voices in the world.

I let out a happy sigh. And the next day I got to work. 

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I started each day with a smile.

It was truly fulfilling work, turning this arid place into a little oasis. My little slice of heaven, hidden from the worst parts of the world. The yellow dust and hardy plants soon gave way to softer, leafier greens—though I made sure to keep the conditions right for my cactus garden, off to the side.

Each night, I was serenaded by the sounds from the scrublands. An hour of natural song that changed slightly every night.

Hopefully I could have my own animal orchestra too. That would be really something. I even had my first players, in Big D, Hector, and Ernesto—the two lizards who spent all day glaring at each other. Hector was tall, gangly and slim, while Ernesto had a truly cutting jawline.

Both the little bastards were shameless beggars for my leftovers, almost as bad as the carp in the spring where I washed my dishes. But eh. Having living garbage disposals was nice.

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And then, one night, six months later, something happened.

I was sitting on a rock, looking up at the sky. I took a breath, and the crisp smell of the scrublands filled my nose—but there was a different smell. An undertone. It smelled of smokeweed and wine—both rice wine, and the fermented corn drink of the nearby village. I paused, and wondered why I was here, when something interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh? Fancy seeing a stranger here.” a soft voice said, and I turned. There was somebody sitting on another rock, not too far away. A beautiful woman with deeply tanned skin, and hair as black as midnight. It was worn down in a braid on her back. She was wearing clothes in the style of the empire, covered by a poncho, and a colourful knitted hat. Cactus green eyes studied me. There was something about them, youthful and impossibly ancient at the same time. “What do you think of spending some time with this pretty sister here?”

I raised an eyebrow at the teasing tone in her voice, but she seemed friendly enough. She felt a bit like my own big sister from the Before—I shoved the thought away.

“Of course. If such a pretty lady wants some company, then who am I to say no?” I asked, laying it on thick. The other woman laughed, the sound bright and joyous as I moved over to sit beside her. I grabbed a bottle of my drink, and poured her a cup. “This one is Rou Jin. Might I have the honour of your name?”

“Huanle.” The woman answered with a smile, and I knew instantly that the name fit. Joyous.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Huanle.”

“And it's always a good day when a girl like me meets a polite and handsome young man.” She smiled brightly and waggled her eyebrows at me. I snorted and shook my head.

“Well, if Big Sister wants, I can always dance for her.. But I’ll need a few more drinks in me.”

Huanle laughed. “Well! Then we need to definitely get you just a little sauced. I want to see your dance moves—little brother has a wonderful rear, and I think he should shake it! And I've got the perfect beat!”

I blinked as she pulled, of all things, maracas from nowhere, and started up a lively beat that sounded spectacularly mariachi.

I snorted, and imagined the guitar and castanets playing in the background—

“Oh! I’ve never seen that instrument before. Is that some kind of pipa?” Huanle asked, staring at the guitar in my hands. I blinked.

“Nah. It's a guitar.” I replied, and strummed out a few cords.

“That sounds great!” she enthused. I smiled, and started up one of the songs I knew best how to play, and felt kind of appropriate.

Gerudo valley was an excellent song.

Huanle’s eyes widened, and she sprung up, shaking her maracas in time perfectly with the song—before she pulled me up too. The guitar was out of my hands, but the song kept playing. I blinked at Hector and Ernesto, both wearing mariachi hats, as they continued from where I had stopped. With a shrug, I started dancing with her, as the trumpet birds hopped out of the cactuses and started playing the main melody.

“Come on, Jin! Show me what you got!” Huanle shouted. I obliged her. More animals, and a crowd of people slowly tricked in as the songs I remembered played, the people laughing and dancing with us.

“Where are you from, Jin?” Huanle asked warmly, as we danced. Her eyes were focused on my chest, and I looked down—there was a golden weld that split me in two, and Huanle looked…. Sad, as she stared at it.

I blinked, as two lifetimes swirled behind my eyes.

I told her.

I told her about both lifetimes. She was the first person I had talked to in six months, and the conversation flowed from there.

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“Kahaaaaaaa! This is great! Man, those other people know how to make a drink! Te Qi La is great!” Huanli roared, as she held up the bottle, her eyes sparkling. “Do you think you can make this?”

“Maybe? I would need a lot of trial and error.” I replied, smiling. There was a pile of stuff around us—though mostly booze. Huanle—dream lady, because this could only be a dream—seemed to be something of a connoisseur. My thoughts turned to how I would replicate the agave based drink, episodes of how it's made floating through my head.

I stayed like that for a moment, before Huanle touched my shoulder. I looked at her, then looked up, where the constellations themselves had sifted, forming the steps to make tequila.

“You,” she declared, “are a very, very interesting person! But.. forgive your pretty older sister, for she has one last question. Tell me, what brings a man like you to a place like this?”

I paused at the question. It seemed… deeper. Like it was pressing against my soul.

“....an escape, mostly.” I finally said. “From the hell that I lived in before.From that endless pointless race of cultivation. Why, I could be in a cave, meditating somewhere, but instead?”

I raised my hand, and the evening orchestra started up—across the horizon, with its thousands of cactuses, and scraggy earth.

“Instead, I get to start every day here. I get to work with something;make something truly valuable. What's the point in striving for the unreachable heavens, when the true treasure is so close to home?” I turned to Huanle again and smiled.”I want to see all of this province. I want to know it. If I get to spend the rest of my life here, it's a blessing beyond compare. ”

Huanle’s eyes were shining, and her teasing smile faded for a second. She looked into my eyes, and green met green.

“My name is Huānlè de Huángyán Gē—The Joyous Song of the Yellow Rocks. I name you, Jin Rou, Rou Jin, and ■■■■■■■  the Second Contractor on the Path of Shennong.” Her solemn tone reverberated around the world—and I felt something press against me, sliding into place like a puzzle piece I didn’t even know that was missing.

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I woke up to Big D’s musical cry, and the wonder of the sunrise over the scrublands.

I had  had a good dream last night.

I yawned, and stretched, and got ready for the day. I spared a few moments to look over my flourishing farm, and all the places I could expand to.

“So. where are the Agave going?” an eager voice asked from beside me.

I jumped out of my skin and fell on my ass. Boisterous laughter erupted from the slightly ghostly woman who had been hovering over my shoulder.

 She was a beautiful woman with deeply tanned skin, and hair as black as midnight. It was worn down in a braid on her back. She was wearing clothes in the style of the empire, covered by a poncho, and a colourful knitted hat. Cactus green eyes studied me, full of mirth.

I felt the touch of her, deep in my soul, and knew.

I gaped and pointed at her.

Huanle rolled onto her back in mid air, and started laughing harder.