浑水摸鱼 (hún shuǐ mō yú) to stir the water to catch fish - take advantage of a chaotic situation

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"What should we talk about, Master Hán Yā?" Zéyì asked with a smile, putting down the large box strapped to her back. She sat down on top of it, and began to pull out food.

"You're right, you're right. What are we going to talk about?"

"That's what I'm asking you. You're the one who invited me to talk."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so you get to pick the topic."

"What are the limitations for topics?"

It seemed that the sentient pile of rags that was Hán Yā was grinning. "Well, well, who knows? Let's talk and see where it goes. But aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Meí Guī, Master Hán Yā."

"Good, good. A pretty name for a pretty lady. It's good. It's good."

"Have you lived in Qiānbàn long?"

"Long? All my life. I was born here. Wait, no. I wasn't. Or was I? Ha ha, it was so long ago!"

"Has the Kingdom changed much in that time?"

"Huh, and here I was thinking you were from around here. Still, you got a funny way of talking, missy."

Zéyì smiled again. "I was born here, but I've been travelling. I was contemplating how much things have changed during my own short lifespan. I thought you would have experienced even more changes."

"No, no, no. Change? Nothing changes when you're on the street. You get a coin, you lose a coin. Someone kicks you, someone gives you a bun. You freeze in winter and boil in summer and fight each other for a scrap of cloth to use as a pillow and share the bottle when some drunk rich idiot leaves one lying around."

"That sounds hard."

"Hard? Of course it is! Damn right it is. You wouldn't understand, soft little missy-miss. What did you want to talk about?"

"If I wanted to become reacquainted with the city, who should I talk to?"

"You're talking to me right now, aren't you? Ha ha."

"Where do important people gather outside of the palace?"

"Oi, are you saying I'm not important?"

"Apologies, Master Hán Yā, I phrased that poorly." Zéyì offered him a still-warm custard bun and took one herself. "I meant to say, those idio- I mean, those people who work in the government offices."

Hán Yā's beady eyes suddenly became sly as he grabbed the bun. "So, so, so... Why would a packed lunch seller want to know such a thing?"

"Hm, I wonder. What do you think, Master Hán Yā?"

"Ha ha! You're sneaky, girlie!" The custard bun disappeared in the blink of an eye. "Well, well, well, they serve nice tea at the Green Crane Pavilion. I get lots of leftovers there, you know? Lots of tidbits."

"That sounds like a nice place to have a cup of tea then. Maybe I should visit."

"Why not? Go take a look, Missy. You got anymore of these buns? They're really good."

Zéyì gave him two more, and passed the remainder to a couple of children who had wandered over, looking dazed. They swallowed the food wordlessly, barely chewing.

"I'm tired. Come and see me again tomorrow, missy!" Hán Yā rolled over. Within seconds, he began to snore.

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"You're back. Thanks for your help."

"Not at all. It feels good to be able to help others."

Zéyì entered a small food stall where an uncle was sweating over giant steamers. A couple of customers seated outside heckled him.

"What kind of idiot gives away free food like that?"

"Give it to us instead! What a waste!"

"If I gave you those old buns and you got sick, I'd never hear the end of it," the man grumbled back, closing the battered fan he was using to keep the cooking fires hot. He jabbed it towards them. "Those beggars have iron stomachs from eating who-knows-what, and it stops rats from hanging around looking for food. Are you a beggar? Are you a rat?"

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"I'll be going now, sir," Zéyì said.

"Hey, why don't you hang around a little longer? I could do with some company..."

"I'm busy, sir." She walked away, the heckling of the customers following after her.

"Ha ha, you got rejected!"

"She's too young for you, old man!"

Zéyì couldn't help but smirk at the thought as she headed down the still-busy dusk street to the fabric quarter. An old woman in beautiful fine cotton garments glared at her as she approached.

"You're late," she rasped.

Zéyì looked contrite. "I'm sorry, grandmother."

"Not good enough. Tidy up now."

With a meek expression, Zéyì unobtrusively found a broom at the back of the stall and carefully swept up the scraps of fabric and thread on the ground. She had been busy since she had arrived in Qiānbàn, making herself useful around town as someone who could take on odd jobs in exchange for a bit of food and other things. Once she had tidied the fabric shop, the elderly owner sniffed and threw some unfashionably orange robes at her. The colour was horrendous, but unlike all the other clothes she owned, they were clean and new.

Besides, they were actually perfect for what she was about to do.

The blacksmith had allowed her to rifle through a collection of broken and poor quality weapons after she helped clean the shop. She pocketed a liúxīng(1), a type of flail with a heavy weight dangling from a fraying cord, and a splintering three-section staff, along with a long but rusty dagger. It was better than nothing. The liúxīng and staff felt more comfortable in her hands than the swords she had used back at the auction, and she remembered holding something similar as a young woman training her martial arts. A whip, perhaps.

Thus equipped, she made a transformation; in the bright orange robes, belted tightly to emphasise her figure, she swept her short hair back from her face, bit her lips until they were red, and tucked her weapons into her sash to hide their imperfections as best she could. Finally, she placed the single pearl earring in her left ear, rubbing it between her fingers until it was warm.

A moment. She closed her eyes, and sighed.

Rolling up her sleeves, she grinned to herself, the white in her irises overpowering the black with a ghostly hue. "Time to party."

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"Oh, sorry," she said, in the exact same tone of voice, a quarter of a shi later, to the well-dressed man onto whom she had just tipped hot tea. For some reason, he didn't seem to think she was being sincere.

"YOU... YOU BITCH! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"

"Am I supposed to?" she asked, idly twirling the empty teacup in one hand. The staff in the Green Crane Pavilion quietly disappeared into the kitchen; they'd seen enough fights between cultivators to know what would happen next.

Zéyì stared through the ranting man who was rolling up his sleeves, paying more attention to the rest of the people in the room. In particular, there was one young man behind and to her left who seemed to be paying a great deal of attention to her whilst doing his best to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately for him, he was a little too interested in what was going on to be able to pull off an uninvested attitude. Dressed in unremarkable clothing, he sipped his tea quietly, but she could see his eyes darting all around, taking in every aspect of the scene.

The remainder of the people were either nervously backing away to avoid being caught in the crossfire, or eagerly rising to watch or perhaps take part in any chaos that might ensue. Another young man trying to get out of the way accidently bumped into the one who was watching Zéyì, and the latter man snarled irritably.

Zéyì's opponent, in the meantime, was growing similarly angry. "I SAID, ARE YOU IGNORING ME-"

Zéyì redirected the man's punch harmlessly over her shoulder with a single finger, the tip tracing a wave along his arm and ending with a flick directly between his eyes. As if hit by a jet of water, the man's head snapped backwards and he collapsed unconscious.

"Hey! He... He's the assistant to the Imperial Counsellor! You can't do that!"

"Oh. Whoops?"

In moments, Zéyì was battling off the attacks of a dozen opponents, wielding her liúxīng and staff simultaneously. In spite of her choosing to avoid using either her spiritual Water powers or her demonic ones, there was still no-one who could match her skill.

The same could not be said of her shoddy weapons. The liúxīng broke first, the momentum of the swinging head finally snapping the damaged cord, careering off into the jaw of one of her attackers and sending him flying. The staff broke next, but it did so over the head of the last of her opponents, so she was unconcerned by this development.

The young man who had been watching her was gone. She hoped he would give whoever he worked for a good report about her. People scuttled out of her way as she approached the table where he had sat. There was nothing to really examine, just a teapot and his empty cup.

The other young man, the one who had bumped the table earlier, was crouched nearby, apparently frozen in fear. She glanced at him, and he suddenly launched himself at her feet, wailing.

"Please spare me! I'm not a cultivator, I'm just an ordinary person! I'm sorry!"

Huh. Would you look at that...

"Get up," Zéyì ordered contemptuously, kicking his hands away. "I'll decide whether or not you get spared. Take me somewhere else. This place is boring."

"Yes... Yes, miss."

He hurried through the debris, Zéyì arrogantly strolling behind, running a hand through her hair. Internally she was wondering how much damage she had caused and how she was going to repay the owners of Green Crane Pavilion. The other customers made sure to give her plenty of space. She followed after her new servant at a respectable distance, one hand tucked into a sleeve where she had stowed the long dagger. It wasn't exactly her preferred weapon, but it was better to be safe.

They walked for some time, doubling back or taking sudden turns. As they were walking through a narrow backstreet in the residential area, a place where Zéyì had never been before, the young man suddenly turned to her, his whole demeanour changing from a nervous, dithering boy to a refined intellectual, although the bags under his eyes suggested he had recently had a few late nights. He even seemed taller.

"You're good," Zéyì said, feeling the dagger handle. She shifted her weight slightly. "I really didn't notice you until you threw yourself at my feet. And then I realised your hands weren't shaking at all."

"I like to think I'm one of the best." The young man smiled, cupped his hands, and bowed. "Greeting Her Highness, my humble name is Zeng Guk Lung. I believe you need some assistance?"