Beware Of Chicken

A blade whistled through the air in a quiet section of the forest. It cut the air, descending towards the earth almost gracefully, before curving back up. A slight bit of sweat followed it from my fist.

I was in a quiet section of the forest near Hong Yaowu, practicing with my sword. Everybody else was asleep for the night.

My muscles strained. The sword felt wrong in my hands. The grip was nothing like a shovel, or even an axe. I glanced again at the scroll, wondering what I was getting wrong, but as I looked at it, I somehow knew that I should be moving right. I should be following it perfectly.

And yet, it still felt off.

The movements were right, but there was something deep in my body rejecting it.

An old fear bubbled inside, that I wasn’t good enough, I was weak. Worse still, I couldn’t help but feel shame because I was failing Gramps.

Rou’s memories always started coming up more when I thought about the old man, and the bitter feelings that came with it.

I sighed and put the sword down, swapping to the other form Gramps had taught me, the one I did every morning. This at least didn’t feel too bad… until I started trying to shadowbox an imaginary opponent. The second I thought of it as more than a way to defend myself, my limbs started to creak.

It was a disconcerting feeling, so I pushed it aside and concentrated on both the movements… and what I had learned today.

The Lord Magistrate’s first lesson had been… interesting, I guess. Politics was never a field I was versed, or really interested in at all. Where I had come from the view of the government was one of thinly veiled disdain. Rou hadn’t really thought of it at all either. Gramps certainly hadn’t taught him anything on it, and cultivation had consumed his world since he had been picked up. At least I wasn’t completely unarmed. The courtly characters that Rou had been taught were invaluable, but I still didn’t know exactly what to expect.

So it was with trepidation that I had walked into the lesson. It was an empty, private room that was quite well appointed. We had drinks, and proper seats, and I had a rough list of things to go over. It just really felt like he had invited me into his house until he rose, his face all business. Seeing him standing in front of me with his hands behind his back as he gave a lecture seemed almost… modern.

But I suppose lectures hadn’t really changed much since the dawn of schools, except with the addition of Powerpoint.

You could kind of ape Powerpoint with a recording crystal…

Nope, keeping that idea to myself. I’d already introduced the wedding slideshow, and that had been a pretty big hit. Maybe I could unleash it on the Azure Jade Trading Company, so I could conquer the world with colorful graphs and commercial blitzes.

Though the Lord Magistrate didn’t need all of that to be engaging. His stern looks and voice had me enraptured. He had that calm charisma everybody talked about, one that I finally got to see first hand.

“There is no one true path for this.” The Lord Magistrate had declared. “Essentially, one must pick a… face for lack of a better term. To act out your chosen role. How did you act when you first met the other members of the sects? If you clearly remember that, then continue, for the most part, to act that way. If you disregarded decorum at the start, then you can continue to do so. Acting in a consistent manner is what is key. Some disregard of decorum can in this case be in your best interest—for it either shows you have no idea what you’re doing as you said—or you’re so powerful that such petty things are beneath you. I believe, from what you have told me, that the latter is the assumption. So we must feed this assumption.”

His starting speech wasn’t quite what I expected, but it all made sense. Leverage what you have. Use all your strengths. He said it with such complete and calm authority that I couldn’t help but trust him.

He did look a bit tired though, but I suppose I had given him quite a bit of stress by forcing him to make time for me, the poor guy.

I’d have to get him something nice.

After the first lecture he moved onto a strange sort of quiz, where he asked me a bunch of questions and I had to essentially roleplay answers.

Though it revealed what would be considered a flaw in this world.

I apologized too much.

For the first time in my life, I was told being as polite as I was was a detriment. Part of me recoiled when I was told I couldn’t reflexively say sorry.

I’d have to fight every fiber of my being to do it but it was something I’d need to do when I talked to people.

After that, I got a bunch of scrolls to learn proper decorum, so I could know when somebody was trying to insult me subtly and to know which ones I could “safely” ignore.

All in all it was remarkably structured for something that looked like he had put it together in a single night. At least this time he had seemed a bit more happy when I gave him some of the Spirit Herbs. His wife had told me he sometimes had stomach problems and that the herbs helped with that.

At the end of the day all that was left was a run back to Hong Yaowu, and a wife who commiserated with the pile of scrolls I had to read.

Meimi had her own stuff with Lady Wu, who was apparently a slave driver, making her sit through an entire mock formal event.

She had certainly been more proactive than me at getting prepared, but I wasn’t going to be slacking any longer.

And it was a bit of a balm on my mind that, well, I wasn’t alone. Meimei had taken up her lessons with Lady Wu of her own volition, to help me.

If there was one person in the entire world I could count on, it was Meimei. But I did have more than her, didn’t I? I had an entire family of people who would be happy to help.

I brought myself out of my thoughts and grimaced as I was soaked with sweat from the forms I had been practicing.

I sighed. I wasn’t really getting anywhere.

I got out of my stance and sat down beside the blade and the scroll. I stared at the sky, a beautiful band of stars that dyed the sky silver and the moon shone as a silver crescent, high above.

Well, I had already asked one person for help, and Lanlan knew more about this cultivation stuff anyway. Or maybe Big D would be able to see what was wrong—

“Great Master?” A voice interrupted me and I glanced back, staring at Big D. The rooster had been with Rizzo all day, both of them helping Pops out by collecting mushrooms. Speak of the devil… or I guess it’s Speak of Cao Cao here.

Except instead of a warlord of the Three Kingdoms, he was some super powerful cultivator who had a Qi projection of himself laughing at you, appearing if you spoke his name in anger.

I raised a hand and waved at the approaching bird. “Hey, how are you doing tonight, buddy?” I asked, lowering my shoulder slightly so he could hop on.

The rooster, however, remained on the ground, his eyes serious.

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

Bi De had had a wonderful day in Hong Yaowu. He had spent it largely with Sister Ri Zu and Yin, exploring the forests, and examining the village, while his Lord was off in the Verdant Hill, consulting with his servant.

The First Disciple himself still had unfinished business there, with the strange old woman who had given him his map, but he would find out what exactly was in the crystal before he was going to confront her.

He had been preoccupied with how to approach his Great Master. His Lord hadn’t exactly been secretive about his training, and his struggle was obvious.

Yet he persisted.

Bi De had convened a quiet gathering before they had come to Hong Yaowu to discuss the issue with Sister Xiulan and Tigu. Xiulan had posited that perhaps it was his cultivation that prevented him from taking up the sword, and that this was merely a bottleneck.

Tigu thought it foolish to bother him with their worries. She had simply declared that she would get so strong she would never need to be saved again, and the Great Master could remain at Fa Ram. He would hear not a word of enemies, for there would be none.

For his part, Bi De was unsure. All he knew was that his Master needed aid. Something he had little idea how to give it.

All were in agreement: They would aid the Great Master, little though their power was.

Their plans, however, had been interrupted by the sweet ambrosia that was the mead; and then, by preparations for the festival, as the great Master cut back on his evening bladework.

Tonight, his master had once more gone to practise alone. Sister Tigu and Sister Xiulan had both agreed that he should be the one to approach the master. He was First Disciple and thus the closest to him.

Besides, Bi De had been with him when he had received this technique, after all.

Yet now, he felt trepidation as he gazed at his Great Master.

His Lord’s face was slick with sweat, and his arm, the one with which he had struck the interloper Zang Li with had little lines of gold trailing up it.

Like the wound was still there, just beneath the surface.

“Hey, how are you doing today, buddy?” his Master asked, as he made the gesture to allow Bi De to sit upon his shoulder.

His smile was the same as always as he beheld his Disciple, even through the strain.

Bi De honoured his Master’s teachings. In this he thought perhaps he had found a way through the puzzle of how to help him. One of his greatest yet simplest lessons..

He asked.

“Your Disciple is well, Great Master.” he said, bowing. “Yet, it is not for my well being that I have come to you… there is something that troubles you.”

His Lord grimaced at the question, and Bi De was afraid he had overstepped himself.

But his Master merely sighed, and glanced at the scroll of war.

“...yeah. Yeah, this is troubling me, a bit.” His smile was crooked, as he trailed off, and shrugged. “This stuff… its a bit much, sometimes, ya know?” he asked, gesturing at the sword.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Bi De pressed, forging ahead. “We have all noticed your discomfort. Your Disciples are concerned, Great Master.”

His Lord grimaced. “It’s that obvious?” he asked, his frown stretching across his face. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you worry.”

Bi De shook his head. “Do not apologize, Great Master. We all know why you pursue this path…. yet it does not take away from the fact that it does concern us to see your pain in practicing the arts of war.”

His Great Master went quiet at Bi De’s words. He glanced at the scroll. He looked towards the direction of verdant Hill, as his eyes went far away for a moment. “...I ran away from this life,” he whispered, frustration in his voice. “I never wanted any of this. The politicking, the sects, the fights… I hate it. I just wanted to be a farmer.”

“And yet you do it anyway, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I started it, so I’ll see it through to the end,” he snorted, looking away from Bi De. “Sorry if I’m not that great of a Master.”

Bi De glared at his Master, for the tone in his voice.

“No. You are our Great Master. You shoulder this burden for us, even though you hate it. But Great Master…. It does not have to be this way. Let your humble Disciples be your blades, if such things are required.”

The words were delivered calmly, as the rooster bowed his head. His Great Master seemed struck, as he shook his head.

“I can’t ask people to shoulder a burden I’m unwilling to take up,” his Great Master returned.

“You do not need to ask us, Master. We all chose this. For the things you have created. Your dream that you told us of… I, your Disciple, must say… it is not yours alone anymore. When you first asked me my goals, after our battle with Sun Ken… I said it was to defend Fa Ram. I stick to that oath.”

Nearly a year ago, in the snow, after Sun Ken’s demise, his Great Master had confided in them his goal. His reasons for coming to the Azure hills. His Master’s goal of creating a heaven upon the earth.

Bi De had seen the world. And yet, his goal had not changed, even with his experiences. He would defend Fa Ram. That was his proudest goal, and greatest ambition.

His Great Master stared at Bi De.

“To defend your home, huh?” he asked. He took a breath. “But… even if this isn’t working out, I need something. I’m not going to be a liability. Bi De. Will you help me?”

The First Disciple swept into a bow, pride surging in his breast at his Lord’s trust. “Would you do this Bi De the honour of trading pointers with him?”

He was going to get to directly spar with his lord.

He glanced up, to see his master flinch at the question. Bi De wondered if he had overstepped himself. His Master’s hand rose up, unbidden, as he clutched at his heart. He sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes.

Then, he nodded. His Master rose to his feet, and bowed.

“Please treat me kindly, Master Bi De,” he intoned.

Bi De felt his heart leap up into his throat, and his feathers puffed out as his Lord referred to Bi De as his Master.

“Please, Great Master. You do not need to embarrass your disciple so!” he squawked.

His Lord laughed at Bi De’s cracking voice, as both rose from their bows.

“Alright. Lets do this!” his Master demanded.

Bi De lunged forwards. His Master, who had raised him so high, asking him for pointers.

The crescent moon shone above, in its most perfect form.