The son of the leader of Qianyang Sect had turned into a beggar overnight—no, in less than a day. Yuelong sat alone in the alleyway, staring at the cold bun in his hand. The lady’s face appeared in his mind once again.

“You are a funny newbie,” the voice rang.

A small grin appeared on Yuelong’s face. He turned his attention to the night sky above. The stars winked and blinked at him, displaying their night show to those below. He closed his eyes and another memory came to mind.

A little boy peeked through the kitchen doors of Qianyang, his eyes wide with alertness. Seeing that no one was there, he closed the doors behind him. Walking on tiptoes, he looked at each steamer, wok, and pot that rested on the stovetop. He sniffed, searching for the familiar aroma of mugwort and peanut.

“Ah hah!” He exclaimed. He tried reaching upwards towards the bamboo steamer, but because of his lack in height, he was still off by a head. He frowned. He wanted more black dumplings.

He skimmed through the room searching for something he could stand on.

Creak~

His heart skipped a beat. The boy stared wide-eyed at the door, only to see a small head poke through.

“Yiheng ge-ge, what are you doing?” asked the younger boy, slowly slipping inside.

“You scared me, Lanyue,” replied Yiheng, patting his chest. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“But no one is supposed to be here around this time.”

“…”

“So, what are you doing?” questioned Lanyue, moving closer to Yiheng.

“You know the black dumpling that I gave to you this afternoon?”

“Yeah! Of course! It was so good!” Lanyue exclaimed loudly.

“Shhhhh!!!” Yiheng hushed. “Do you want us to get caught?”

Lanyue covered his mouth with his tiny hands. “Sorry!”

“Help me find something so I can stand and reach the dumplings,” Yiheng commanded.

“No problem!” Lanyue whispered, tilting his head to one side.

Like two little thieves, the boys searched everywhere that they could in the kitchen.

“Would this work?” Lanyue asked, holding up a ceramic bowl.

“No, you nimwit, that’s for eating. Do you want to eat dirt?” barked Yiheng.

Lanyue shrugged his shoulders and placed the bowl back into the cabinet.

After a couple minutes of ransacking, Yiheng stomped his foot. “Why can’t I find a single stool or box!?”

Lanyue came over and patted his back. “It’s alright. We can ask shi-mu for the black dumplings.”

“I want them now, though,” Yiheng sighed.

Lanyue stood with a hand covering his mouth slightly. An intense look appeared over his baby face. “I got it!”

He turned his back towards Yiheng and knelt on the ground. “Here, you can use me as a stool. Just be sure to give me some too! Shi-mu’s dumplings are too good.” He looked back at Yiheng with a smile.

“Alright, good, bro!”

Yiheng gently stepped onto Lanyue’s back, which was slightly wobbly as a footstool but manageable. He reached up toward the lid of the bamboo steamer, his face in a big grin. But when he lifted the lid, he found himself staring at an empty plate. His smile faded, and he slammed the lid back on.

“Did you find any?” panted Lanyue, who was starting to shake under Yiheng’s weight. “Don’t tell me you ate all of them!”

“There wasn’t any.” Yiheng grunted, stepping off of Lanyue.

Lanyue stood up and brushed the dirt off of his robes. “What were they made of, again?”

“My mom said it was mugwort and peanuts,” said Yiheng. “Why?”

“I think I saw some dried mugwort over there.” Lanyue pointed at a basket in the corner. He dashed for the basket and opened the lid. He grabbed a handful of dried leaves and sniffed them. “Yeah! I think this is mugwort!”

“So?” Yiheng ground out.

“Well, I was thinking, we could try making it ourselves!”

Yiheng looked at him like a general at his soldiers. “Really?” he said in a sarcastic voice.

“Well…it shouldn’t be too hard…right?” Lanyue smiled.

Yiheng rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then let’s get to it.”

Together, the two boys searched everywhere in the kitchen for ingredients.

“Yiheng ge-ge, do you think shi-mu used this?” Lanyue held up an opened jar. Yiheng bent over and sniffed the contents.

“Ew!” He exclaimed, covering his nose. “What is that!?”

He looked at Lanyue with watering eyes, only to see him laughing.

“I got you, Yiheng ge-ge!” Lanyue giggled. “This is vinegar!”

Yiheng’s face darkened, and he glared at Lanyue. “It smells like an old man’s sweat.”

Lanyue laughed even harder.

After gathering the ingredients, the boys placed them on a cutting board that they had laid onto the floor.

“What now?”

“Hmmm.” Lanyue covered his mouth again in the same thinking pose as before. “The dumplings were sticky...so, from rice?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Meaning?”

“I think we beat the mugwort into the rice!”

Lanyue grabbed a bowl and put cold leftover rice into it, sprinkling over a handful of the dried mugwort leaves.

“Now we mix it together!”

“With what?”

“Our fists!”

Alternating punches, they pounded the dried herb into the cold rice. After a couple of minutes, the cold rice gradually warmed up to the heat from their hands.

“The rice is getting sticky,” Yiheng commented.

“It’s supposed to,” Lanyue chuckled.

Looking at the bowl of “mixed” dough, the two boys smiled.

“That doesn’t look too bad for our first time!” approved Lanyue.

“Hmm. Except that it looks like poop with specks of undigested rice.”

“Hey!”

“Just saying,” defended Yiheng who, like his father, was a bit of a perfectionist. “Now for the filling. Peanut filling.”

“Alright, so I think shi-mu had crushed peanuts in them,” guessed Lanyue.

“Probably. And they were also sweet!” Added Yiheng.

Lanyue grabbed a handful of peanuts and crushed them in a bowl with a rolling pin. “Can you add the sugar? Thanks.”

Yiheng scooped out three spoonfuls of sugar and dropped them into the bowl. “Wait, how much do we need?”

“I want it extra sweet!” said Lanyue.

“But I don't.”

“… Fine. I guess three spoons are enough.”

Grabbing another spoon, Yiheng mixed the crushed peanuts with cane sugar filling. He put his face over it and sniffed.

“Hey, it doesn’t smell as good as my mom’s,” complained Yiheng.

“We’ll get there, don’t worry,” said Lanyue. “Now, it’s time to wrap the dumplings!”

“How do you do that?”

“Watch me!”

With movements smooth like water, Lanyue grabbed a piece of dough and rolled it in his hand. He gently squashed it till it was disc-shaped, and then he dropped a spoonful of peanut filling into the middle. Yiheng watched as he folded the dough over the filling and turned it into a dumpling.

“Just like that!” Lanyue showed the ingot-shaped dumpling to Yiheng. “Your turn, Yiheng ge-ge!”

Yiheng picked up the sticky dough and looked at it with disgust. Following Lanyue’s demo, he folded the filling into the dough. And when it was done, he proudly shoved it in front of Lanyue’s face.

“You see! I’m pretty good too.” Yiheng smiled. He dropped the dumpling onto a plate and wiped his hands on his robes.

“Let’s finish the rest now!”

There the two boys spent the rest of their evening sitting on the kitchen floor folding up dumplings. The sun had already set by the time they were finished.

Yiheng wiped his brow and sighed. “Who knew dumpling-making was so hard?”

Lanyue covered his mouth, his eyes crescent.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lanyue said, biting his lips. Then he burst into laughter.

“What!”

“You got- got- rice on your head ahahahaha!”

Confused, Yiheng looked upwards, trying to catch a look at his own forehead. He wiped the area with his sleeve and found pieces of sticky rice smeared across the fabric when it came away. Suddenly, Yiheng looked at his hands and realized that they were covered with sticky rice.

“I’m new at this, alright?!” Yiheng defended.

“Well, you’re a funny one! A funny newbie!” chuckled Lanyue.

The joyous laughter dissolved into the stars of the night, their glow revealing a dark silhouette between two tall buildings. The young man sat in the alleyway with his eyes closed, staring upwards at the night sky, resting an arm on his knee. He wore the smile of an old man who was savoring aged wine and only the memories of the happiness he once had in life.

Yuelong took a bite out of the cold bun in his hand. The sage-like aroma of mugwort and sweet peanuts filled his imaginary taste buds. The more he chewed, the more vivid the taste from his memories became.

BAM!

Yuelong jolted. He listened around for the source of the noise, only to discover nothing but the chirping of bugs. He walked out of the alleyway and into the main street.

The door to the young lady’s home was wide open, and she lay over the doorstep in a pool of blood.

Fearing the worst, Yuelong clenched his fists and ran towards the entrance.

“Are you alright?” asked Yuelong, gently holding the girl in his arms. Taken back by her fragile frame, he hesitated before starting to transfer a small thread of energy into her. “Can you hear me?”

The poor girl had streaks of blood running down her chin, her skin a deathly pale, almost the colour of white sandstone. Under the lantern hanging over the entrance, Yuelong could see strands of white in the young girl’s hair.

The girl coughed. More red oozed from her mouth. But this time, it carried a tint of black.

Poison!

He concentrated spiritual energy into his fingertips and applied it to her main acupuncture points, slowing the spread of the unknown poison.

Her eyes fluttered open, reacting to the energy. “New-newbie,” she said weakly. “M-my family…” Her voice trailed off.

She’s too weak right now, Yuelong thought to himself. Darn, I didn’t bring any medicine with me.

He gently laid the girl back down on the stone floor and started to head into the courtyard. But after taking just a step, he hesitated for a few moments. Yuelong turned back and picked up the girl, carrying her on his back.

Inside, blood splatters were nowhere to be found, nor were any people.

“Where is everyone?” asked Yuelong.

Over his shoulder, a hand slowly rose and pointed towards a door to their right before slowly dropping back down. In the cool moonlight, Yuelong could make out a few splatters of dark liquid on the stone floor. Blood.

He slowly crept his way across the yard, towards the doors. A small light flickered from within. Yuelong quickly scanned the area for any signs of traps or poison. Nothing. He kicked the doors open and slipped inside.

Four people lay dead-still on the ground, streaks of dark blood staining their chins. Yuelong leapt back outside, covering his nose from the miasma with his arm.

He closed his eyes and gathered energy at his forehead. Not long after, a white light appeared in his mind. He opened his eyes once more and scanned the area outside the doors.

This time, it was a sight different from before. A faint trace of black energy in the air floated across him—the aura of yin. Yuelong peeked back into the room. No sign of poison. He stopped the flow of energy to his forehead and the sight disappeared.

He settled the young lady into a chair by the side and went to check on the other people. He took their pulses and blocked off the flow of the poison in their bodies.

They all suffered from the same thing, he realised. Yuelong once again charged his forehead with spiritual energy—with more this time—and scanned the dark aura. The black energy slowly changed shape under Yuelong’s powers, revealing the culprit, as a long black shape faintly took form. Before Yuelong had any more time to take a closer look, the trace of the black aura vanished into thin air.

He turned back to the young lady. With two fingers, he transferred a steady flow of golden Yang energy into her body. The flare of the energy lit up the room with a warm glow.

Just like that, Yuelong spent the rest of the night expelling the poisons from their bodies. Eventually, it was done, and he sat in a double lotus position to recover his lost energy.

At the cry of the rooster, Yuelong opened his eyes and ended his meditation. He had used up much more energy than he wanted to, dispelling the poisons from the people. The poison was much stronger than he had anticipated.

“Father! Mother!” a voice cried. The young lady had woken up and rushed to her parents’ side.

The pair slowly opened their eyes, and upon seeing their daughter, they cried a sound of joy and hugged her closely.

“What happened?” questioned the father. “Are you alright, Xiao-Ling?”

“Yes, I’m alright,” replied Xiao-Ling. Pointing to Yuelong, she said, “It was newb—um, this gong-zi here—who saved us!”

By this time, Yuelong had already wiped his face clean with his sleeve. However, mud stains were still on the front of his robes.

All five of the family stood up and bowed to their benefactor. Yuelong returned the bow.

“It was nothing,” said Yuelong.

“I cannot thank you enough for saving us,” said the father. “May I ask your name and what happened to us, gong-zi?”

Yuelong hesitated for a moment before replying, “I am but a humble Daoist. No need to remember my name. As for what happened…”

“Gong-zi, you think too little of yourself,” said the mother. “Please continue—what happened to us?”

“Does no one remember what happened?” asked Yuelong.

“I remember feeling extremely tired, as if something was draining my energy,” said Xiao-Ling.

“Yes, me too!” agreed the woman standing next to the mother, who, judged Yuelong from her clothing, was the maid of the household. “I remember I brought my master a cup of tea, and I felt so weak after bringing it. Then I remembered a slow pain growing in my chest, like something had clogged my lungs!”

“I felt the pain in my chest too. And I started to cough a lot as well…” said a teenage boy. Yuelong examined the boy from head to toe. His face was white but had some plumpness to it. His fingers and clothes were clean. Must be the son of the family.

“Then...I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Dear gong-zi, what happened to us?” asked the mother desperately. “Was it an evil spirit that we met?”

“No, madam,” said Yuelong. “It was a snake.”