“Mommy, Mommy, another song! Let’s do another!”

“Goodness Little Lu, that’s ten songs in a row. Mommy’s fingers are going to fall off at this rate.”

Lu Shao, the fourth son of Lord Jin, was currently sitting in front of his Mother learning to play the pipa lute. Shan Hui had long since left the home, only occasionally visiting, and her twins (Yan Li and Shi Ji) had begun leaving the Palace for longer and longer stretches of time as well. That meant that Lu Shao was raised as practically a “single child” (that is, he ended up slightly spoiled) and got the bulk of Mei Hua’s attention.

He was barely six years old and had been given a specially designed pipa lute (for the regular size was too big for him) after he’d begged his Mother for one. Since the moment he was born, he’d loved music. As soon as he could speak, he sang, and as soon as his chubby fingers got big enough, he’d begged to learn to play the pipa lute.

Mei Hua was absolutely astonished at the boy’s thirst for music. Her other sons had only had a passing interest in her musical talents. They enjoyed listening to her, but weren’t interested in learning themselves, much like Jin. Having a child who wanted to learn had taken her by surprise.

Today, like many other days, she was exhausted from playing. She was by no means an amateur when it came to the pipa or singing, but even at six her youngest son was really pushing her to the limits of her abilities. And yet he still wanted to learn more!

At her last birthday party, all he’d talked about was the musicians and their instruments. Seeing him so excited, she realized that soon he’d be asking to learn how to play those instruments as well. Rather than wait until later, she’d gone directly to the musicians before they’d left and asked about finding a teacher for her son. She had them spread the word about her interest in finding a teacher and to contact Wu TengFei for further details.

It turned out the isolation of the mountains was a deal killer. Master Musicians, those musicians that knew how to play many instruments expertly, toured the world to show off their skills and acquire new ones. Later in their life, they would settle down and find a wealthy patron to support them. But it was expected to be some place where they could raise a family or get many students and continue practicing their talents publicly. To be shut off from most of the world was considered an extreme negative, and despite the large compensation, no one seemed interested.

The months ticked by without anyone taking up the offer and Mei Hua began to wonder if her expectations were just too high. Perhaps she should offer short term contracts for musicians skilled in specific instruments instead. If it was only 6 months to a year, perhaps they’d be more willing to come. It wasn’t what she wanted for her son, but it was an acceptable alternative.

Just as she was about to do that, much to her surprise and delight, someone finally accepted and was willing to come teach. The Master Musician offering his services was an elderly man, recently widowed, called Shen Zhou. He had one granddaughter named Shen Syu who he wanted to bring with as well as all his servants… plus any of their families who wanted to go with him.

Jin hadn’t been pleased upon hearing this part of the deal. It was one thing to allow the teacher and his family, but why did they need the servants AND the servant’s family? The fairy servants were excellent, and with his enchanted masks they could be seen by adults when needed. There was no reason to bring more humans on the mountain.

Wu TengFei, their middle man for the negotiations, tried to get this part changed for Lord Jin but failed. The Merchant himself did not understand why the Master Musician was so insistent on taking such a large group of people with him. But it was either the whole lot or the Master wasn’t coming.

Jin had been ready to say no, but Mei Hua was more lenient on the matter. Firstly, it would be hard for the old man if he came by himself with only his granddaughter. The more company for him, the better he’d feel, longer he’d live, and the better he’d teach. Secondly, Mei Hua had secretly started missing human company. Most of her sons were gone. Pei Zhi’s occasional visits and letters weren’t enough anymore and she found herself getting restless.

Lastly, even Wu TengFei admitted Shen Zhou was renowned on both sides of the mountain for his skills. It was why he could make such demands to begin with and keep a straight face. He was supposedly retired; no one had expected him to take up an offer to teach on an isolated mountain.

Mei Hua had to be cunning (which didn’t come naturally to her) to get her husband to agree to the terms. She’d wheedled, he’d scowled, they argued and bickered. For a whole week they were a standstill and couldn’t come to an agreement.

Then Mei Hua had an epiphany.

“How often do I ask you for something?” She’d said one night before they went to bed still angry at each other. “Didn’t you say you’d give me anything I asked? Is it possible that was just a flippant promise and you really only meant to give me things YOU wanted?”

This was a low blow and Mei Hua knew it, but it worked. Jin was both feeling wounded and offended that his wife would think of him that way, to the point that he couldn’t sleep. After a restless night and some soul searching, he finally (though begrudgingly) agreed.

That didn’t mean he wanted foreign humans wandering around his Palace and home night and day. He decided, instead, to just build them their own little place to live. Since he could create enchanted paths, there was no need to build the Master Musician’s house anywhere near the Palace. So he built it several mountain peaks away, and then made a path that would require only five minutes walk to get from the new house to the entrance of the Palace.

Mei Hua wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when she saw the final product. He’d made a “simple” housing unit, but it was based off the Palace. So even though he was trying to be stingy, what he’d ended up making was still hugely extravagant. They’d never know he only begrudgingly let them on the mountain based off the house he’d built for them.

With Little Lu in hand and Ye on her shoulder, Mei Hua took a leisurely stroll to the meet up destination to pick up the Master Musician and his people. Jin, having felt bullied by his wife into the whole thing, refused to come with them and instead decided to find a corner of the mountain to sulk.

They were going outside the forests but still staying on the mountain proper, to the south east. Usually a trip like this would take days if not weeks, but it took just a few hours walk. This was the magic of the Fairy Emperor. Where ever Mei Hua wanted to go, a special path was created just for her to walk. She could go as fast or as slow as she wanted.

When it’d first started happening, she’d been really astonished. Even Ye’s magic wasn’t that good. When she mentioned it to Jin, he gave her a self-satisfied smile and said: “Since you know I’m the Emperor, there’s no reason to hide what I can do. So why not show off a bit? Do you like it?” and then he’d given her the “praise me, praise me” face so of course she’d praised him.

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After arriving at the meet up spot, a barren hill surrounded by large stones, Mei Hua and the Master Musician introduced themselves politely. As always, Mei Hua insisted on a relaxed form of conversation, and as always the other person took a few minutes to accept she was being serious about it.

With Master Musician Shen were a fairly large group of people. Most were older grannies and grandpas, but there were also some younger folk with children. They all carried their own luggage, plus the Master Musician’s things as well. If Mei Hua hadn’t known who they were, she’d have mistaken them for a nomadic tribe with the amount of people and things they were hauling.

One of the children was a young girl about Little Lu’s age who was hiding behind the Master Musician. She turned out to be his only granddaughter, Syu. Apparently her parents had tragically passed away some years before and so the Master and his (now deceased) wife had been raising her.

Unlike her other sons, Little Lu was naturally social and immediately took to Syu and the other children. He’d started making friends immediately, asking questions and chattering away to anyone who’d listen to him.

While the adults were talking, Lu Shao stopped playing with the other children and looked up, feeling something strange. There, hanging in the air far above them, was an arrow. It was a very odd looking arrow too, much bigger than a regular one used for hunting, with it point viciously barbed and stained black. Having never seen an arrow floating in the air before, he simply stared at it curiously and wondered what it was doing there.

This unfortunate lapse in judgment would plague him for years afterward.

“What’s that?” He barely got out when the arrow suddenly plunged down to the earth and pierced through his mother.

It hit her between her collar bone and left shoulder. The impact was so strong it pierced right through and shattered her shoulder blade into pieces instantly. A sickening crunch sounded and blood splattered everywhere.

Mei Hua stared at the arrow wedged in her body, stunned, before collapsing from pain and blood loss. Blood continued to pour out of her wound, forming a puddle on the ground, he face growing gradually paler as it did.

The adults panicked at the sight and children burst into tears while Ye, invisible to the adults, was frantically hopping about trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Mommy!”

Lu Shao screamed, running forward to his injured Mother. He’d only taken a few steps when the arrow jerked, it’s barbed end viciously hooking into her torn flesh. Something like a thin, barely visible black rope was attached to the arrow’s nock and had been pulled taunt. Mei Hua’s body began to be pulled away from the group, leaving behind a gruesome bloody trail.

“No!!” Ye ran forward and bit down on the rope, hoping to try and break it. The moment his mouth and hands touched the strange rope, he felt like he’d been set on fire.

The fairy gagged and stumbled, unintentionally letting go in his pain. That rope had been soaked in some kind of poison. If he’d been mortal, he would have died instantly. As it was, his body was paralyzed and he felt energy leak out of him in torrents.

Lu Shao was still chasing after the body of his mother, closer and closer to the edge of Mountain Territory. Seeing the danger, Ye forced his mouth to move despite the pain.

“Nan Lu Shao, get back here!” He ordered, his voice raw and harsh from the poison. The little boy hesitated.

“Come to me, or do you want to worry your Mother further?”

At that, Lu Shao began to cry and ran over to the fairy, who's green coloring was fading, and picked him up.

“Uncle Ye! What do we do? Mommy— Mommmy, she—!”

“Y..your father will c…come.” Ye managed to force out, struggling to keep himself from fainting. Since his mouth had gotten the brunt of the poison, speaking was incredibly painful. Right as he finished talking, the ground began to shake. “G..go to the M-Musician and h..his peop..le. Pro..tect th…em.”

Lu Shao didn’t understand how he was going to protect anyone but did as he was told. Whenever Mother wasn’t around, Ye became the default parent. He ran over to Syu and her Grandfather and their servants, all who’d huddled together tightly in terror and wondering if they’d be the next victim. They had no idea what was going on and now there was an earthquake.

Ye knew the Teacher and his Granddaughter hadn’t been part of the group who’d attacked Mei Hua. His skills at discerning the hearts of men wasn’t as good as Jin or Xuiying, but he could tell when someone meant harm. And whatever was going on, the elderly man and his folk were definitely innocent.

The little boy reached them just in time, for none other than Jin had arrived. He’d come flying in at a low altitude, snapping the tops of trees as he did. The fury emanating from Jin was visible to even a mortal’s naked eye. His eyes were radiating a hot gold like the sun and energy was coming off him in suppressing waves. A scorching wind blew before him, as if trying to roast and flatten everything near by in it’s fury.

He’d been heading straight towards the Musician and his group and only swerved at the last moment when he’d seen Lu Shao standing among them. The little boy trembled as an invisible power paired with a cold stare hit him. It felt like he’d been slapped in the face, only his physical body had suffered no damage at all. He staggered while holding tightly to Ye, scared of his Old Man for the first time in his life.

The little boy didn’t know what had happened, but Ye did. Jin had meant to kill Shen Zhou and the people with him, for no other reason than them being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ye had put Lu Shao in his way knowing he wouldn’t willingly harm a child of Mei Hua. In response, Jin had given his youngest a spiritual slapping without holding back.

Even if Jin had matured a great deal over the years, he was a sword and would always be a sword. When faced with an intruder who meant real harm to his loved ones, his first response was to slaughter. He would slaughter until the threat stopped moving. He knew nothing else, for there was no Shield to offer an alternative path for dealing with dangers.

Mei Hua’s body had been dragged an impressive distance in a very short period of time. When Jin got close to her body, dozens of arrows popped into existent right over his head and rained down on him. He saw the danger but didn’t dodge. His body should be immune to such attacks to begin with and if he tried to get out of their way, he wouldn’t reach his wife in time. So he willingly took a hit rather than slow down, his finger tips almost touching her as he sped forward.

The arrows buried into his flesh like a hot knife through snow. As with the rope from earlier, the arrows were poisoned. The poison reacted instantly to his flesh: an agonizing burning sensation rippled across his skin, sinking into his muscles to his bones, right through to his soul. The pain was so severe he lost concentration, almost passing out, and slammed face first into the ground leaving a crater.

His body, which resembled a pin cushion, wept blood and for a moment he was paralyzed. When he finally came to himself, his wife was near the edge of his domain. Once she crossed, he couldn’t follow.

He roared out in fury and agony, detesting himself for being unable to move. If tearing apart his own body would have gotten him to her quicker, he would have done it. But the pain wasn’t just physical, it reached into his spirit too. Since when did humanity gain the ability to create a poison that affected the spirit as well as the body? It had never crossed his mind that they’d gotten that clever, so he’d been careless.

Even with his impossibly strong body, he was still missing his spiritual defenses. Xuiying was his shield and the strategist between the two of them. She knew when to retreat, when to dodge, when to take a hit and how to take it. That had always been her specialty. His job had been exploiting enemy weaknesses, knowing where and when to pierce and attack to create the most damage. Together they were a force to be reckoned with but apart they were fatally flawed.

As his body rotted from the poison, he yanked out the arrows without thought to the further damage he’d do to himself. Whoever was targeting him had been smart and annoyingly precise: they went for all the points on the body that made movement possible, muscles and joints and tendons. They seemed to understand they couldn’t break his bones, so they went for softer tissue.

If the arrows weren’t bad enough, the poison slowed down his ability to heal himself. So as he was removing arrows he also gathered up the poison in his spirit and body, forcefully expelling it. Black liquid began to bubble up from his stomach, rotting away at his throat and mouth as he vomited it out. It splatted to the ground, sizzling and melting the dirt. This happened again and again, until his body was clean and once again able to heal properly.

No matter how frantically he tried, he wasn’t fast enough. Each second meant Mei was further from him.

She was already at the edge.

He wouldn’t get there in time.

He raised a blood soaked hand, as if reaching out to her, and a single thin thread shot forward. It was blue and glowed slightly. It seemed to glue itself on to Mei.

Then she was gone, into the lands where men dwelt.