Yuen Sou Yuet considered the dishevelled figure in front of them.

The figure considered them right back.

The various other people also present shuffled their feet, feeling uncomfortable and ignored.

"So," Sou Yuet said at last, tucking their hands into the sleeves of their voluminous robe. "I need to keep an eye on this person for a year."

"That's right, sir- I mean, mis- I mean, um... Yes, that's right."

The monk looked at the person kneeling before them again. 'Untidy', was the first word that came to mind. The figure had long, pitch-black hair that had not been managed for a long time, it seemed, tangled and rough and covering much of their face and shoulders. All that could really be seen was the person's mouth, which was fixed in a cheerful smile with rather too many, too sharp, teeth. Their arms were tied behind their back.

'Trouble' was the second word that came to mind.

Sou Yuet looked over at their Master, who nodded with grandfatherly agreement (vague and benevolent), looked over at the people who had escorted the figure before them (who looked back almost pleadingly), and then finally again at the person themselves. They were eyeing the Master's beloved silver cat, Sing, and apparently salivating.

Sou Yuet smiled serenely under the hood of their robe.

"Alright."

----------------------------------------

The first thing Sou Yuet did was lead their new charge to the bathhouse and into a tub of water. In fact, it took several tubs before the water stayed clear. At first, they handed a scrubbing sponge to the bather to allow them to clean themselves, but since the person immediately decided the sponge was a shark and their own fingers were screaming people about to be eaten, Sou Yuet took the sponge back, rolled up their sleeves and began to scrub. The long black hair kept getting in the way, so they found a pair of scissors in a cabinet nearby. At the sound of the shears, the person leapt up with a screech.

"NO! Leave me hair alone!"

"Ah, so you can talk."

"Of course I can talk," was the sulky reply. They had a husky, pleasing voice. "I was trying to see how long I could stay silent to get on yer nerves, but ye haven't even said anything to me. Is that part of yer practice, not talking?"

"So can I cut your hair?"

All Sou Yuet received in return was a growl like an angry dog. They smiled.

"Then, excuse me." They advanced with the scissors anyway, so the other person, dripping water everywhere, leapt from the tub and dashed away into a corner of the bathhouse.

"Leave me alone, ye crazy monk! I'll make ye regret it!"

Sou Yuet showed no sign of relenting, so the other person decided to change tactics.

"Come now, a handsome person such as yerself. What's yer type?" The escapee managed to emerge from the heavy tangle of their hair to reveal a shapely, very much naked woman. She had pale, pale skin, as though she had never seen the sun, patterned all over with black tattoos, and brilliant green eyes like fresh leaves. She ran her hands teasingly over her breasts and hips. "No?"

Apparently not. Sou Yuet was still coming closer with the scissors.

"Then..."

The woman seemed to ripple, then the breasts shrank away into defined pectoral muscles, hips shrinking - it was now clearly a man standing in her place, a man with the same pale, pale skin and brilliant green eyes. His upper lip and jaw were dusted with an attractive stubble. He hooked a finger towards Sou Yuet. "How about it?" His voice sounded little different in feminine or masculine form, low and roughly alluring.

Sou Yuet paused for a moment, head cocked.

Yes! I've got the-

"You might be able to seduce me better if your hair was decent."

"..."

Sou Yuet watched the man visibly deflate. At last, he said in a small voice, "Just... only trim a little bit off, okay?"

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"Are ye sure t'will it be alright?" The chief escort, a mage of the Aiteann Court, walked side-by-side with the Master of the Yuān Wěi School of Healing. She was scowling fiercely as they chattered away in common tongue. "That bedamned necromancer caused us no end of trouble on the way here. Twelve times it escaped! Not to mention all the dead animals it kept finding along the way, and that one time it managed to raise the ghost of a bear..."

The Master of Yuān Wěi smiled under long, wispy eyebrows. His eyelids drooped as older people's do, but when he raised them, his eyes shone sharply like a younger person, black streaked with gold. "Yì Fēng will handle them. They have great skill."

"Of course, Great Master, I'm not trying to speak ill of ye or yer school or yer prized disciple, but... yer ways are of gentle healing. Can ye really handle a wild and powerful witch who can raise and control the dead?"

"My friend, we-"

There was a slapping of wet feet, and suddenly a naked man came racing past them, hollering with glee. "HAHAHA! I GOT AWAY AGAIN! YE'LL NEVER CATCH ME YE -"

"ARGH!" The Aiteann Mage seized the hilt of her sword angrily. "That fecking necromancer!"

Yet the Master of Yuān Wěi simply placed a wrinkled old hand over hers, clearly indicating that she keep her sword sheathed. "Trust my disciple."

The necromancer was already rapidly disappearing through the once-tranquil water gardens of the Yuān Wěi School. The Aiteann Mage watched helplessly.

"Great Master..."

"Ah, here they are."

A gentle breeze ruffled their clothes and tickled their hair. A shadow wafted over them and the Aiteann Mage looked upwards with a small gasp.

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A person drifted over them, unhurried and at ease, seated calmly on what appeared to be a giant ginseng leaf. Before, the Aiteann Mage had only seen Sou Yuet in their robes, hood pulled up, but now the breeze had blown the hood back to reveal a serene round face, a pair of night-black eyes, and pale blond hair, unusual to the people of the region, that wafted gently as they flew. The mage was struck dumb, silently watching this amazing vision as they floated after the cackling necromancer and out of view.

"It won't take long," the Master smiled. It was the same mild and inoffensive smile that their disciple wore.

Only a few minutes later, it seemed, Sou Yuet floated back past them again, the clearly unconscious necromancer limp on the leaf beside them. They paused and stood to bow with a small smile as the leaf reached the watching mage and master.

"Shī fù, Master, I apologise for letting my charge slip away and disturb the peace of the Yuān Wěi Gardens."

"So long as it doesn't happen again," the Master replied mildly, stroking his long white beard, as wispy as his eyebrows. Sou Yuet bowed again, then settled cross-legged on the leaf and drifted back towards the bathhouse.

The Aiteann Mage finally let out a sigh of relief and took her hand off the hilt of her sword.

"Well now, I think I can leave here with peace of mind."

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The necromancer glared at Sou Yuet from within the bathtub. Only a pair of suspicious bright green eyes and the top of his head was visible above the water. Sou Yuet placed some folded robes nearby.

"Do you have a name, honourable guest? You may call me Yuān Yì Fēng.”

The 'honourable guest' rudely blew bubbles in the water in response.

"And should I refer to you as 'he' or 'she' or 'they'?"

The necromancer stopped blowing bubbles and sat up, resting his elbows on the edge of the tub and his chin on one of his hands. Water droplets rolled slowly down the skin of his exposed upper torso.

"What about you? Are ye a man or a woman or what?"

Sou Yuet shrugged with a smile. "It is unimportant."

The necromancer scoffed. "Call me whatever ye want. Dog, fecking bastard, he, she, it, blah blah blah." He caught sight of the scissors that Sou Yuet was now raising. "Feck, ye don't give up, do ye? Are ye jealous because me hair is longer than yours?"

"Your hair will grow back."

"Fine, fine." He massaged his head. "Ugh, what did ye do to me? I feel like I've got a hangover."

Sou Yuet gestured for the necromancer to turn around, and he eventually complied, although not before morphing his form into something more androgynous, as though parroting Sou Yuet's appearance. The monk patiently began to trim and comb the necromancer's wild hair, and for a while, all that could be heard was the sound of their breaths and the quiet snip snip snip of the scissors. The last light of the day was filtering down on them through a window, making Sou Yuet's hair glow and casting a golden light in the necromancer's long black locks.

"I'm going to keep trying to run away," the necromancer said.

Snip snip snip.

"I'll escape from ye, you watch."

Snip snip. Brush brush.

Damn, that's actually really nice, they thought, as the brush slowly worked towards their scalp. How long has it been since I've relaxed like this?

"Why are ye treating me so well?"

"You are a living being."

"Is that all it takes to be treated well, be alive?"

"Why not?"

Snip snip.

The necromancer laughed darkly. "I thought it was the opposite. All it takes is to be alive to be treated badly."

Brush brush brush.

"I'll stay at least one night. Feed me well, alright?"

Snip brush brush.

Sou Yuet realised that the necromancer had dozed off. The monk's dark eyes took in the scars along the witch's arms and torso, and as they lifted the base of that jet black hair, they revealed, along with numerous intricate tattoos, old lacerations all around the necromancer's neck. Multiple holes pierced the shells of their white ears, but there were no earrings in sight.

Sou Yuet paused, very briefly, then resumed cutting and brushing silently.

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The necromancer woke to find themselves in a simple but neat bed with the quiet sounds of food being doled out nearby. They stiffly rolled from the bed, hunger overcoming tiredness, although they stopped to examine themselves as best they could in the basin of water near the door. She was in female form now, evidently having shifted in her sleep, and Sou Yuet had neatly tied half of her long black hair into a knot near the top of her head, whilst the rest was left thoughtfully loose around her neck. She touched the skin there reflexively, dropping her hand with a rueful smirk. Her clothing was old but comfortable and clean, and smelt of days of sunshine and a powdery earthiness that she couldn't quite place.

"Some food for you." Sou Yuet had appeared at the door with a bowl of soup. The necromancer took it with that smile of too many teeth.

"Ye feel sorry for me?" She gestured to her neck as she greedily gulped down the vegetable soup.

"The younger disciples here are tender-hearted. They may bother you if they see."

The necromancer went to wipe her mouth with her sleeve, but Sou Yuet intercepted with a plain handkerchief, dabbing her mouth dry. They were much shorter than her, but then, she was a tall person, easily a head and shoulders over everyone else in this country. She stared at them for a moment, then batted her long eyelashes. "Ye're very forward for a monk."

"You have to wash your own clothing. I'm making things easier for you," Sou Yuet countered.

"... Ye're no fun. And I'm still hungry, ye can't expect me to only-"

"There's more food outside. Come."

Outside in the courtyard, some younger disciples were now doling out an evening meal of steamed rice, fish, and broiled vegetables. Those about to eat were expressing their respect for the lives of the fish before taking a bite. The necromancer grinned. "Should I let them know how the fish feels in return?"

"Sure. But eat now. Play later."

"Play?"

The food did look good, though. With only a brief pause, she savagely downed her meal, not even bothering with the chopsticks. She didn't know how to use them anyway. Sou Yuet quietly bowed over the food first, then began to peacefully and steadily eat, occasionally glancing up at the other disciples who were sneaking curious looks over at their starving guest. They hurriedly returned to their own food each time they were caught.

The necromancer ate three bowls of mostly rice and vegetables and was reaching for a fourth when Sou Yuet stopped her. "You'll get sick. Drink some water first."

"Yes, Master." The necromancer stuck her tongue out but accepted the cup and drank quickly. Sou Yuet finished their meal, bowed slightly with gratitude, then stood.

"When you are done, come with me."

"What do ye want now?" the necromancer asked warily, rising to her feet. "Ugh, I'm stuffed. I can't run away anyway."

She trotted after Sou Yuet's graceful strides, chattering all the time. "Hey, how old are ye? How long have ye lived here? What about yer family?"

Sou Yuet cast a glance over their shoulder but did not break stride. "Do you want to tell me your answers to those questions?"

The necromancer's jaw snapped shut and she followed in irritated silence. This monk was more difficult to handle than anyone she had met yet.

Yuān Wěi was an exceptionally tranquil place. Other disciples who looked to be around Sou Yuet's age bowed respectfully as they past, and they greeted their fellow students humbly, but it was clear that the monk's position was one of the highest. They cast curious glances at the following necromancer and received crazy growls and mad smiles in response, so they quickly departed.

The necromancer laughed mirthlessly.

"Behave yourself."

"Or?"

"I am perfectly capable of making you do everyone's laundry and withholding dinner until you have completed the task."

The necromancer grumbled, then pounced on the item hanging from Sou Yuet's belt. "So is this some kind of ranking badge? Yers looks fancier than everyone else's. Except that old bat ye call Master."

Sou Yuet had a jade belt ornament hanging on their left side. It featured an intricately carved iris flower, and a leaf green tassel. Although relatively simple, it was well-crafted and elegant. The necromancer had noticed that the other disciple's badges, if they had them, were smaller and their shorter tassels were of different colours.

"Correct. You are very observant."

The necromancer looked pleased for a moment, then quickly frowned contrarily. "Hmph. So yours is...?"

"Head Disciple."

"Of course."

"The junior disciples have brown tassels, the full disciples have orange, and the seniors have yellow. You've seen Si fu... Shī fù has white tassels."

"So ye're the only one with green, huh?"

"Yes."

"Hm... don't you think it matches me eyes?" The necromancer brought her face close to the monk's and gazed shamelessly at them. Sou Yuet stared blandly back without any apparent discomfort.

"Again, you're quite right."

"..."

Not the response she was hoping for. She straightened up and grumbled again. "Are we there yet?"

"Here."

"... Here?"

They had arrived at a cemetery.