“Look, boss, all I’m saying is you should be careful,” Lil Frankie said, as she checked her powder mirror. “There’s a lot of nasty rumours going on about you in the demonic underworld - and those nasty rumours were started by some equally nasty people. They’re saying you’ve earned the ire of the Flaming Bloody Organs Sect. You don’t want to mess with those guys.”

“The who?” Hong asked, and then changed his mind. “Nevermind, don’t bother explaining. Unless those organs are beef and they serve them in restaurants, who they are and what they do is of no concern to me.”

Lil Frankie gave him a wry look. “You’ve grown increasingly arrogant as you age, old man. Like the cultivating equivalent of a wine turning to vinegar.”

“I’m not growing more arrogant; I’m growing more apathetic regarding matters that are unimportant. Knowing who the Torched Raw Haggis - or whoever they are - Sect is will avail me not in the slightest; they’ll either come after me, or they won’t. If they don’t then anything I did to stave them off is contrary to my purpose - if they do, then it really doesn’t matter whether I prepared for their coming or not. I’ll either win, and live to labour another day, or die, in which case another repairman will take my place.”

Lil Frankie raised one eyebrow. She looked tempted to continue the argument, but then Hong removed a meaty coin pouch - full of pocket money for Nuppets Shows - and she remembered that there were more important things than Hong’s life. She went to take the pouch and then, getting ahold of herself, gave one final warning.

“You may not want to prepare for them; that’s fine, it’s your own life. But at least be aware of them. You apparently slew several higher ups in the sect, and they’ve sent two of their elders - Tu Suan and Cao Za - to ensure an end to your activities.”

“How do you know this?” Mu inquired, concern etched clear on his features. Lil Frankie winked.

“A Villainous Jade Beauty always keeps her secrets.”

“Be that as it may,” Hong intoned, “I have no plans of cowering in fear; I’ll be aware and be wary, but I’ll do neither less nor more than what I do normally. As Zisi said, ‘the superior man cultivates a friendly harmony, without being weak.-How firm is he in his energy! He stands erect in the middle, without inclining to either side.’ I thank you for your regard and consideration, however.”

Lil Frankie chuckled. “Always straight to the point, eh? Fair enough.”

She reached into her side bag and pulled out a pouch, which she flicked at Hong. He caught it, spun it in a circle, and tucked it into his sleeves. Then he bowed.

They gave the customary departing remarks and the three of them went on their way, Lil Frankie to her next delivery and Mu and Hong to their next job.

“What did you do to anger the Flaming Blood Organs Sect?” Mu asked as they descended the mountain where they'd got their supplies.

“The who?”

“The Flaming Bloody Organs Sect?”

“Who are they?”

“The group Lil Frankie warned us about.”

“Huh. I could have sworn she'd said the Flambéed and Braised Tripe Sect,” said Hong, who had no memory for such things. “Well, it doesn't really matter. I anger all sorts of cultivator groups in the course of my duty, and my sect angers even more - part of the reason I don't care about anyone coming for me personally is there's all manner of groups I've never heard of coming for me on the basis of my business alone. The other part is that the enemies of the noodle shops themselves are limitless, and I'll spend much of my time fighting them no matter what I do. But you know that well enough.”

Mu supposed that was correct. Proactive preparation would have neither helped nor harmed Hong when it came to him.

Subsumed now by a companionable silence, the two said nothing more as they travelled to the next noodle shop in need of repairs.

***

"This is the third time this month those bastards have destroyed my shop. Thank Heaven for the Noodle Shop Repair Sect. I don't know what my poor Dive Bar would do without you." The grateful Dive Bar owner remarked, as Hong finished rebuilding the aforementioned structure. Mu simply stared.

"It's nothing. I'm simply doing my job."

"Fah! Only an animal jettisons morality the minute the encounter becomes transactional. You have my eternal gratitude." The owner looked around the newly rebuilt restaurant with pride. The reconstruction had been impressive - not only had Hong built the Dive Bar of suitably antique looking wood, he had even somehow given it that rundown appearance, and was presently applying a coat of paint which already looked as if it was peeling. One could hardly tell the entire structure had been levelled six hours prior, nor that construction had started upon it not twenty minutes earlier.

"What I don't understand is how they managed to burn the building down in the first place, given that it's, well, underwater."

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"Cultivators are a truly impressive lot."

The restaurateur sighed. "You're telling me. When they first came down here we didn't mind - it was only the Esoteric Dingo Fungus Sect, after all, and they were polite enough in isolation. But then their eternal rivals, the Glorious Muffin Stew Sect, stole the technique for breathing underwater, and since then there's been a continuous series of brawls between various up-and-coming Young Masters, ambitious street urchins, and lost disciples returning after twenty years away spent training with hidden masters. If this is what it's like with just two sects, I can only imagine how much worse it is on the surface."

Hong Yu nodded and patted the poor man on the shoulder. "Well, take heart. Since this is the third time you're using our service within the space of a year, you're now eligible for our Frequent Cultivators Initiative - entitling you to half off all cultivation-related repair requests in future."

"Ah, you gladden a poor merman in his old age. Let me get your pay." The mermaid, who Mu could've sworn was only in his twenties, swam off, leaving the two cultivators floating in the underwater Dive Bar. He returned momentarily, bearing a small sack of something and a plate containing what looked like a fungus, or possibly a cloth sack.

"Here's your payment for rebuilding the restaurant, once more with my thanks. I’m afraid I have no cash, so you’ll have to accept these Ancient Divine Pearls as a substitute.” Hong bowed, accepting the odd payment with a measure of careless grace.

“The Noodle Shop Repair Sect exists for the vitality of noodle shops, and we’re happy so long as you are, indeed, vital. How you choose to pay us is of only secondary concern.” Mu continued staring as the merman passed an entire sack of Ancient Divine Pearls - perhaps the greatest pill hiding under the beautiful briny sea, one which could increase not only your qi, but your jing, and even strengthen your zang-fu - to the one man least inclined to use them, who in turn casually dropped them into his toolbox. The delighted mermaid then proceeded to offer them the plate containing. . . was it coral? Sea foam? Some sort of hairy seed?

“Before you leave, I hear human swimmers just absolutely adore pool noodles. Could I interest you in a plate?"

Mu blanched, but Hong simply clapped his hands in childish glee. “To say it would be my pleasure would be understatement - noodles are my constant joy. I’ve never tried ‘pool noodles’ before, but then, I usually leave seaside restaurant repair to the Sunlit Seashore Restaurant Repair Sect, who have a much better grasp of seafood grilling and violin music than I do.”

And so saying, he happily removed a piece of pool noodle, munching on it. Mu, after a vain attempt to indicate that he had no appetite (“nonsense - just a piece!”) was forced to do the same.

Unfortunately, the delicious and wholesome repast was a short one - there were other noodle shops in need of repair, and but one man who could do it (in a timely, efficient, and cultivator meddling-proof fashion), and it wasn’t long before the strangely enthused master and his somewhat queasy disciple were once more on the road.

The road itself was paved with seashells, of the finest colour and tint, and of sterling quality. It was bordered by a series of the most magnificent palaces Mu had ever borne witness to (and he had seen the great manors of the southern farmlands). They rose out of the seafloor, masterworks of coral and abalone, lit from within by strange glowing plants and underwater marshlights. Mermaids, richly attired with all manner of shells and pearls, drifted in and out of the palaces’ open portals, going about their daily affairs.

Faced with this opulent majesty, the dingy and rundown Dive Bar was grossly incongruous - it was one of the only wooden structures visible, barring a handful of shipwrecks which had been festooned with luxurious ornaments and lit through various magical operations; was absolutely tiny compared to its neighbours; and lacked their finished and aristocratic appearance.

“I wonder what that restaurant owner’s neighbours think of him.” Mu mused. Hong only laughed.

“You're thinking like a landlubber. That Dive Bar may be dark and wretched from the perspective of Up-Top society, but for many of these mermen its their only access to our way of living. I’ve heard from my contacts in the various oceanic restaurant repair sects that Prince Wen’s restaurant, contra its unassuming appearance, is actually rather prestigious among his fellowfins, and costs so much to visit that, were we not viewed as a novelty in the Down-Here, its doubtful if we could even afford to step foot in the door.”

“Ah, I see- wait, did you say Prince?”

Hong ignored him, continuing his narration as they continued their leisurely stroll down the street. “In fact, I highly suspect that we were only hired as a status symbol - the ocean has its own repair sects, after all, for there are plenty of mermaid cultivators… although the Restaurant Repair Census lists the major cause of underwater restaurant damage to be nymph cultivators on vacation. At any rate, you can see we’ve drawn attention from the nearby mermaid nobility, who have surely noticed that his highness’ human-themed restaurant was just repaired by its inspiration.”

Mu surreptitiously examined his surroundings, and realised that Hong was right - they were getting noticed, and commented upon, by the nearby merfolk. Neither noticing nor commenting were the three fellow humans striding down the street towards them, who were deep in conversation among themselves.

“Did you hear that those Esoteric Dingo Fungus b*stards were seen at the Dive Bar? I can’t believe those scum dare to enter there, even if it’s a bit of a dump. I say we pay the restaurant a visit and show them who, precisely, is the boss around here.”

“Restaurant? Pfeh. It’s barely a building, it’s so rundown, and though I’ve never tried it I doubt the food is any good either. I say we give the owner of that ‘restaurant’ a polite reminder not to do business with blackguards and brigands like that.”

Hong and Mu passed the trio, and then Hong abruptly paused. “I hope you’ll excuse me, oh beloved disciple, but I’m afraid there’s something I absolutely positively must do before we proceed on our economic ventures.”

Then he cracked his knuckles.

Five minutes later the pair continued on their only slightly merry way, and swiftly reached the road ascending out of the deep. Mu tried to leave behind the darkness he’d seen in the abyss as they departed, desperately practising a Memory Forgetfulness Technique his sister had sent him in her last letter, after he’d told her he was travelling with the Noodle Shop Repair Sect.

At long last, they left the water, and were once more on blessed dry land. Mu gazed at the kingdom of the mermaids. “How did they fit that massive kingdom in this puddle here?”

“Hmmmm? Oh, you mean Lake Jiao? It used to be part of the ocean, a couple thousand years ago. No one has told the mermaids the water’s receded yet.”

At which point their conversation was interrupted by a voice which called out coldly, perfunctorily, “stop where you stand, or perish.”