The wooden monk became perfectly still. A pained expression marked his face, but it was clear that whatever power animated him before had been thoroughly exhausted. If someone was to enter Jin’s room now, they wouldn’t think twice before dismissing the monk as a simple figurine - and a poorly crafted one at that. His features were crude and banal as if carved by an untrained hand, stripping him of even that little liveliness that inhabited the works of art.

It’s finally over…

Jin sighed with relief. Though he was unwilling to let up his vigilance - the monk did catch him by surprise once before after all - it was increasingly clear that there was little to fear. By the looks of it, the figurine was even more mundane than before. He could probably even risk touching it, though he wouldn’t hazard it without a long stick.

With a wary look, he stopped circulating his qi. When nothing happened, he finally relaxed. The tension he’d been keeping in his muscles all this time began to thaw.

And yet, now that he didn’t have to split focus between keeping an eye on the monk and pushing his qi through the proper pathways, he became aware of an unexpected shift in the atmosphere.

“Is this sir no longer alive?” Hao asked with an aching look on his face. Jin could’ve sworn the disappointment in the boy’s eyes was greater than any he had shown over the loss of his finger.

“He’s fine,” Jin answered somewhat bitterly. “He’s just ran out of the qi he’d stolen from me. I’m sure he’ll be back on his feet and dancing again, if I give him some more.”

“And will you?”

Jin stared back at the boy, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. “I might,” he said slowly, “when I’m sure that he’s no longer dangerous.”

He regretted his words as soon as they’d left his mouth. Hao’s face lit up in a way that made it impossible for Jin to carry out his initial idea - which was to toss the cursed thing into one of the mine’s vertical shafts and let it live with the fiends or any other monsters that resided within the depths.

In fact, he wasn’t even entirely sure if the monk could be revived.

While it made sense, there was an equal chance that the monk was like a dried out seed waiting for rainfall. Jin’s qi might’ve caused it to sprout, but without enough sustenance, it quickly withered, becoming truly and irrevocably dead.

The look of pain and unwillingness on the monk’s face in his final moments certainly didn’t seem faked.

“I’m sure this sir didn’t mean to frighten you!” Hao was already beside the wooden monk, gingerly draping him in layers of cloth like a newborn baby. “The Pharda Martvha ritual belongs to the virtuous school and could never be performed by someone of ill character. It conveys endless love and adoration for the nourishing gifts of nature!”

Jin eyed the monk suspiciously. The gluttonous glint he saw in his eyes flashed through his mind. I’m not sure if knowing rituals for growing food is exactly a proof of somebody’s character. Still, he decided against sharing that thought for the moment.

Bizu plumped himself on the ground next to Hao. His nose was just as engorged and runny as usual, but the boy seemed unaware, letting the snot pool on his upper lip.

“I can’t believe it…” he spoke with emotion, punctuating each sentence with a loud sniff. “A living sculpture created by the immortals… The things he could teach us…”

“We already saw what he's got to teach,” Jin cut him off in a cold voice. “And the camps taught us what happens to those who cross the taboo, think if it’s worth it to learn a dance, and besides…”

He stared down the snot-nosed boy. “Aren’t you getting too comfortable? The monk’s mine - and so is anything useful that might come from him. Whether I decide to share has nothing to do with you.”

As Bizu squirmed under Jin’s gaze, Hao suddenly interjected. “Since this sir is a gift from that person, it should be fine to keep it?”

Jin flinched imperceptibly. Though brief and comparatively painless, out of all the terrifying thing’s he’d experienced lately, it was the meeting with the blue robed Immortal that left the deepest mark.

Back when he unearthed the treasure that inspired greed in the white robed Immortal, he still had his wits to fall back on. Even during the discipline he was able to fight back to an extent, though at the cost of his body.

During the interrogation by the blue robed Immortal, that brother Hang as he wanted to be called, he was stripped of everything. The plump faced boy didn’t even reach his height. But with a single look he was able to arrest every muscle in his body, and dominate his thoughts.

To this day Jin didn’t know what prevented the Immortal from squeezing out the truth. He could only be certain that it wasn’t anything he did. At that moment, when the Immortal’s will bore down on him, he felt himself disappear. The difference in their beings was so great, it could be said that the Immortal was alone in the room, talking to himself.

Jin never shared what happened back then. When asked, he always maintained he’d just truthfully recounted the events surrounding the treasure’s appearance.

Bizu and Hao never questioned his account. Why would they? To try and deceive an Immortal was simply unthinkable. Jin’s version was perfectly reasonable.

As a result, while it slightly hurt Jin to even look at the wooden monk, the boys treated it more like a wondrous gift from the Heavens.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s been given to me,” Jin answered Hao’s question. “Unless the Immortal that comes to execute us is interested in the words of a mortal. Besides… it isn’t even the Heavens that we need to fear. If anyone learns of this figurine, we are doomed.”

He lowered his voice and looked seriously. “It happened before my time, but I heard about it from a senior who lived through it. The second to last time a miner was found harbouring a taboo object, the Heavens decimated the whole cohort.”

Jin watched the colour drain from their faces, satisfied with the reaction. There was no need to go into gory details - they’d all stood witness to the justice of the Immortals, and were able to fill in the unspoken parts with what they’d seen in the camps.

It’s about time they realised the gravity of the situation…

“The last time it happened, the Heavens weren’t informed,” Jin continued in a low tone. “The culprit was dealt with by the miners, but you can imagine the fate of someone who was willing to imperil the lives of everyone. There hasn’t been another incident since.”

Silence descended. The boys stiffened, and looked about anxiously. Jin’s mind wandered. He thought of the little black stone hidden in the folds of his clothes. The cut on his palm ached.

“You must get rid of it then!” Bizu whispered suddenly. “Throw it into one of the deep shafts, where no one will find it.”

“You can’t!” Hao hugged the monk to his chest. “It’s not this sir’s fault! And we’ve already accepted his blessings. There’s karma between us - if we deny it now, only bad things will come of it!”

“First of all,” Jin interrupted them, “it’s impossible to throw it away. Imagine if that person ever returned. If you’re worried about keeping a gift from the Heavens, imagine the sin of trying to actually reject it.”

The boys blanched as the realisation dawned on them. Jin nodded grimly. He certainly wasn’t about to reveal that his first impulse was actually the same as Bizu’s.

Hao bit his lip. There was a concentrated air about him as he struggled to find a solution to the problem.

Bizu lacked such mental fortitude. The boy looked wildly between Jin and Hao, but as moments passed and neither spoke, something inside him snapped.

“Then we should stay away from you!” He jumped up as if the ground burned him. “Leave you on your own. Why should we even stay with you - just so we… — when you won’t even share!”

He backed away from them in uneven stumbling steps, stopping only when his back came against a wall. “Not that I even want you to! I just said that. I don’t want anything. I want to go home. I want to see my sister. I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to die because of a stupid figurine!”

By the end of it he was crying on the top of his voice. Tears and snot ran down his reddened face in rapid rivers. He stood alone in the corner of the room, straight like a pole, with his arms hanging limp by his sides and his shoulders trembling.

Looking at the boy who couldn’t be older than twelve years old, Jin felt a tinge shame creep up his heart. The reality of the mine had already remoulded him - nowadays, it was the faded memories of the life outside it that seemed unreal. It was too easy to forget that for boys like Bizu it’s only been a few months since they’d been taken from their previous lives.

Jin opened his mouth to say something, but before he could think of anything, Hao was already on his feet.

He walked up to Bizu and grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard within his own. His lips moved rapidly, saying something in a low voice, but Bizu was hearing none of it. He kept shaking his head left and right in refusal, his face all scrunched up.

Then Hao slapped him. Hard. And before Bizu could recover, he slapped him again.

Even Jin was taken aback, both by the unexpected burst of violence, and the slight hint of qi he thought he noticed in the air.

“You are afraid. And now it’s making you stupid.” A look of disbelief and betrayal rose up in Bizu’s eyes, but Hao didn’t let up. He held his hand tightly pressed in his own and continued to speak in a serious voice. “We’re not leaving brother Jin. We’re not leaving sir monk. And we're not leaving you. You are not alone.”

For a second there, Bizu wavered, as if he might bolt for the doors, but the moment passed, and he flung himself into Hao’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Hao bore this emotional deluge with a soft, understanding expression.

Sensing an opportunity to speak, Jin muttered, somewhat unwillingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you both in danger. And I misspoke before. If the monk happens to know something useful, I will not keep it to myself. We’ll share it.”

Although he didn’t speak up and Bizu’s frame continued to shake and tremble, it was clear that the boy heard what was being said. Several seconds later, he sniffed loudly, and said in a small voice.

“I’m sorry for joining others when they beat you.”

Jin felt the brief measure of compassion in his heart evaporate. He clenched his jaws to stop himself from speaking.

You might have softened me up a bit, but if you think for a second that I will just forget—

“Please don’t kill me!!”

Jin almost choked.

“They said you betrayed everyone! I was afraid and didn’t know what to do. And then when crowd swept up everything and—”

Even as he wailed in a high-pitched voice, Bizu didn’t dare to look at Jin. He latched himself completely onto Hao, and screamed his words into the boy’s shoulder.

For his part, Jin was completely taken aback. His genuine dislike of the boy aside, murder never came into his mind. If it came to that, he’d have to kill every single person present during the discipline.

Most important of all, miners were strictly prohibited from harming each other. Anything that jeopardised the work was considered a rebellious act against the Sect.

Though you wouldn’t know it if you had to judge it only by the recent weeks.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Jin said finally.

“Promise. Promise you won’t kill me!”

“I promise I’m not going to kill you.”

Bizu raised his head from Hao’s shoulder. He fixed Jin with a stubborn look. “You gave your word. You have to keep it now.”

“Fine.”

Oddly enough, that seemed sufficient to defuse the situation. While snot continued to flow from the boy’s nose, its volume returned to the previous, more manageable levels. He even allowed Hao to guide him back to the room’s center, where they sat beside the wooden monk.

While the monk was unchanged on the surface level, as they gathered in a circle around him, Jin thought there was a hint of satisfaction he didn’t notice before on the figurine’s face.

“What should we do about the sir?”

“Nothing,” Jin said.

He didn’t flinch under their questioning gazes. It was something he was already leaning towards before Bizu’s outburst. “We do nothing. The monk looks like a normal figurine in this state, so it doesn’t matter. But we do not talk about it or interact with it.”

Bizu sniffed and frowned. He didn’t seem enamoured with the idea of keeping something that could very easily cost them their lives, but given the circumstances, he wasn’t about to make another scene.

Hao, on the other hand, visibly perked up, giving the impression of sunshine peeking out after a tumultuous storm.

“We should get good quality oil to massage into the wood,” he suggested excitedly. Seeing that even Bizu started sending him doubtful glances, he blushed and added hurriedly, “If we’re trying to pass this sir as a good luck charm, it only makes sense we treat him as one.”

“That’s… fine,” Jin said after an awkward pause as he reevaluated the strange affection Hao developed for the monk. “So long as you remember to be careful.”

In reality, his concerns had only deepened. Still, he couldn’t take the monk with him to the lower shafts, and he remained fairly sure that only his qi could reawaken the figurine.

Besides he was out of time. The blare of a whistle sounded through the tunnels, signalling the beginning of his shift.