Beware Of Chicken

It was on the fourteenth day of the month of the plum when Hong Xiansan, (though most just called him San) Third Son of the 76th Hong Xian of Hong Yaowu, did leave the village of his birth to receive an education in the city. It was his Honourable father’s compensation for not being the one to inherit everything, and he was touched that his family cared for him so, that they would be willing to fund such an expensive endeavour. San took a breath, as he stared up at the sky. The weather was of a typical nature for this time of year. Slightly cold with some barely melted snow and a bit of cloud cover.

It was a larger affair than he had been expecting, with the entire village there to bid him goodbye. They had had a feast the night before; wherein he received gifts for his journey. Now, they all stood lined up in front of him. His best friend Ten Ren and the tribal girl who had started hanging around with them all, Hu Li. Big Yao Che, his older brother’s best friend who had to continuously drag his eyes away from Tang Mei, the prettiest girl in the village. The others made up the near hundred strong population.

They clapped him on his back, or shouted words of encouragement to the boy heading to the big city until finally the gathering dwindled and there were only three left. His Father smiled warmly at his third born. His face was creased with wrinkles, and despite his missing arm, he was still as vital as ever.

“I bid you safe journeys my son. May it be uneventful, and dare I say boring.” His father said with a little smile. San had almost refused the opportunity his father wanted to grant him after he saw how much money the scribe program was going to cost his family… but his brother had talked him into it.

He wouldn’t have minded staying in the village forever.

“You’ve got your money, right? And your map? You must be careful! Don’t go into any alleyways…” His dear mother fretted, as she chewed her lip. San did what he could so assuage her worries, but he knew she wouldn’t ever stop. He loved her for it, even if sometimes it was smothering.

And then, it was the last person’s turn. His beloved older brother, and rival. Try as he might, San never could best him when it came to the knowledge of medicine.

Hong Xian dropped his hand onto San’s head, ruffling his hair. San slapped the hand away, and glared at the cheeky grin on the village prankster’s face.

Not that anybody could stay mad at Xian for long, even after he turned somebody’s skin blue. His brother was far too charismatic for that—and too good at his job. He was the village chief in all but name right now anyway, as he took more and more work from their father.

“Ah man, I’m almost jealous, little bother. I wish I could see the city but, well, you know?” he said with a sigh. “Bring us back some neat city stuff—like good wine, or maybe even a girl, eh?”

San huffed at the ribbing, and rolled his eyes. Him? Find a city girl? The heavens falling was more likely. The girls always found San too studious and boring, much to his chagrin. Too Serious San.

“I’ll find you a broken roof tile or a piece of paving stone.” San deadpanned, and his older brother laughed.

“Good luck, little brother. But I don’t think you’ll need it.” San blushed at the confidence in his brother’s voice, swallowed, then turned away from them, setting his feet on the road.

His first destination was the town of Verdant Hill. It was the largest town he had ever been to, accounting for some two thousand souls. It was a slightly run down looking place. The people here were a bitter folk, constantly complaining about one thing or another. The most common cause for their complaints was the old Lord Magistrate; A man who had embezzled much money, and had terribly mismanaged the region in his sixty years of rule before he finally had the grace to die of a cancer.

The people spat upon and cursed his name, and San did not envy the next Lord Magistrate, whenever one was next appointed. It had been years, after all, with Verdant Hill too unimportant a place that the government was dragging its heels.

He wanted to get out of this place quickly. Hong Xiansan travelled through the trash filled streets, until he came to the yearly caravan that would take him south—and though it was called the yearly caravan, some years it did not run at all.

The Master of the Caravan, a hard looking man greeted him cordially, as San presented the payment, and within the day, he was travelling down a bumpy dirt path.

It was a rather uncomfortable journey, but, as his father predicted, it was also rather boring. Most days he ate alone, either reading his medical texts, looking at the sky, or doing the exercises his father taught him. Xian would never say he was particularly skilled with a sword or spear, but he was passable with his fists.

They met not a single Spirit Beast, nor impediment to their path, save for a week where it rained too heavily to travel. But San did find some medicinal mushrooms, and treated one of the oxes for an infection. The caravaneers warmed up considerably to him after that, and he spent most of the rest of the trip administering advice to the men, and looking after the animals. They even invited him to dinner, which was rather enjoyable.

And then, thirty nine days after he left the village of his birth, he arrived at his destination, Pale Moon Lake City.

His first opinion of it was… that its smell was utterly repulsive. He disliked it immensely, and wanted to go home.

But alas, he could not. So he hardened his heart, said goodbye to the caravaneers, and set off to find accommodations… as well as the testing ground. He would have to wait three weeks until the start of the entrance exams, but better too early, than too late.

In the end… the city didn’t prove to be all that bad. San made a friend, studying in the archives. Lin Bao was really the first person outside his brother that San could regard as a peer. The thin boy had a mind as sharp as a blade, and could best San in matters of mathematics. They stayed up all night working on mathematical formations and studying natural law, or debating vigorously the merits of different kinds of pulleys. They plumbed the archives together, reading random treatises, and challenging each other to complete unfinished formations.

Lin Bao was also much more familiar with city life than San, and it was nice to have a guide.

It went without saying that San passed the Scribe exams, and entered into the Imperial College of the Azure Hills. The students of the Academy received dorm rooms if they wished, and San and Bao roomed together. They could work on projects without having to leave the comfort of their rooms! Bao was a fine cook, and San didn’t mind doing most of the laundry.

And so, time passed. One year, then two, as San learned the way that scribes wrote, logistics, and new things he hadn’t even considered. He learned how to roughly navigate the city with Bao, though they stuck to the main roads still.

Every four months, he received a letter from home. A rather extravagant expense, to have a courier deliver such things, but one San could afford with his own work… namely prescribing various remedies to others who attended the lessons when they got sick. It was a bit hard to source all he needed, but his ancestors’ remedies were most efficacious.

San spoke of his schooling and the things he had learned in the intervening months, as well as any scandals in the capital, like the time there was an honest to heavens cultivator fight in the city that had hurt somebody from the Wu family.

His own family responded with how things were at home. The state of the crops, and of the village, the fact that a new magistrate was finally being appointed… and, as always, his brother’s entirely too amused jab about San finding a “beautiful and refined city girl” to marry.

Xian would always roll his eyes when he read that part of the letter. There were no women who would be interested in a country rube here to be a scribe.

And so life continued. San and the rest of his classmates even started doing half days at the Magistrate’s palace, in order to get a better understanding of the job they would be required to do.

It was a rather nice life, so San would say.

Until, of course, he actually did meet the city girl like his brother kept chiding him about… though likely considerably different than what his brother was imagining.

Elegant? He later learned that she could be incredibly elegant, when she chose to be, enough to fool even nobles.

But refined? Not a chance in hell.

A short, slim freckled woman with amethyst eyes. One from the slums. The kind of woman thought of derogatorily by a noble when they scoffed about people from the city. A filthy guttersnipe of a woman with a thick accent who probably had a body count gained from shanking somebody in an alleyway.

Uneducated. Rough and tumble.

And not at all the kind of woman San would fall in love with.

So it came as rather a surprise to him when he did.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked the scullery maid that was struggling with her load of root vegetables.

Liling of Pale Moon Lake City didn’t exactly know what to think of “San”, as he helped her carry the load of root vegetables. The man was in the robes of an aspiring scribe, and they rarely did this kind of shit—or rather, they rarely helped her, because she was blemished, cursed as she was to be covered in freckles. No rich man wanted a wife who looked like her, so while some of the other pretty ladies got hit on and some even landed a relatively well off man, Liling got nothing.

But this guy had seen her struggling a bit, and offered to help. She had been suspicious, at first, until she got a good look at him. He was so country boy she could practically smell the cow shit on him. People always talked about how easy it was to scam fresh meat, the bumpkins all wide eyed and bewildered by the city. They were used to places where people told the truth. Liling thought it would be strange to not expect to be scammed. But, well, if he wanted to help her, and hadn’t even asked to lift up her skirts for it, she was going to take shameless advantage of that.

Liling had led a hard life; she didn’t need any more things adding to her plate.

….though if he got his head on straight and asked for proper compensation, she might not even be entirely opposed to a tumble. He was

kind of hot.In a dumbass, naive way that made her want to stop him from getting taken advantage of, the cute bastard.

So the next time he asked to help her, she agreed.

She ended up getting introduced to Bao, too. He was a city boy. One of the richer families, and he always seemed amused at her presence, but surprisingly… not dismissive, entirely.

He just… treated her like a girl, instead of like furniture. He even shared some of his food with her.

So of course she started hanging around more. They were free food! They paid her to go get things from the archive for her, so they could go over their copy limit! Hells, it was great!

So she started giving back. Just a bit, so they wouldn’t wise up to her taking advantage of them. She nicked some formulas from a bastard apothecary for San after he cured her cough. Whatever they needed, she could source. She occasionally cooked for them, and when they were real busy, she cleaned their room.

And Hells help her, when they said they wanted to go and explore the city a bit more, she had agreed to guide them, as long as they followed her instructions.

But, just her luck, they all got in a fucking pickle.

And all of them surrounded by Fish Gut Lane Gangers. New bloods, looking to throw their weight around, and earn merit to get higher in the gang.

Meaning the bastards were gonna steal all they had, either just cut them up good, or more likely, gut them and leave them to rot.

“Eh, the girl is ugly, but we can still have some fun…” the ganger said, leering at them all.

Liling swallowed thickly as she counted the smirking bastards approaching. Bao looked like he was about to shit himself… but San? San had gone from ‘mildly concerned’ to looking…intense. Like he was going to fight.

“Careful, country boy, this ain’t a barnyard scrap. These guys… They’re different than any brawl you’ve been in.” she whispered to him, and Xian nodded grimly.

Everybody knew that the city was superior to the country. Or at least that was what everybody said. They were more worldly. San probably had all these honourable ideas in his head that could get him killed, while the gangers were gonna gut them.

She clutched the knives she had beneath her skirts, and handed one to the shaking Bao.

San surged forwards just as the gangers came at them. Liling pretended to look scared—and then she threw sand from her pocket into the bastard’s eye and gave him a good one right in the belly. The ganger squealed like a pig, and Bao managed to catch the arms of the thin man attacking him and then smash him into the wall with desperation-fueled strength.

Liling’s head snapped up—only for her jaw to drop. Two guys were already down near San, and then she watched San put a third man into the dirt with a strange kind of flip, the ganger’s arm breaking with a snap, and then kick a fourth in the face so hard his jaw broke.

Then he just moved onto the next one trying to shiv him, dancing around the blow and then headbutting the fifth and moving onto the leader.

It was all both of them could do to stare.

And after it was all over, when they were standing outside the alley, she asked a question.

“How the hells are you so strong, country boy?” she demanded.

“Oh. We have a dance we do on the solstice where the village leaders have to dance all night.” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I’ve been training for years so I can do it properly—that, and farming, and smithing with Yao Che, and hunting with Ten Ren…” he trailed off as he noticed the both of them staring at him.

“Ha! Not just a scroll-eater, eh? Guess you can’t say country boys are weak. But what the hells got you so riled up, eh? You hit ‘em real good.”

“They said they were going to…do things to you.” the dumbass said, still looking to be in a foul mood.

Liling’s face turned crimson at the bastard’s words. Bao rolled his eyes dramatically.

A bitch of a guttersnipe found the first real friends she ever had.

So when her two incredibly smart idiots got dragged into a horse shit noble’s power plays, she went striding into hell with them, like the fucking moron she was.