The early autumn days stretched into weeks, and eventually, months.

A gradual, bitter cold was seeping the land, especially in the northern territories, which was where Liu Ying was headed. Not only did he feel it chilling his bones, but he knew the mule that he, in time, decided to name Kuai in the spirit of irony – as the mule was one of the dumbest creatures Liu Ying ever had the pleasure of knowing – was feeling the cold tenfold. It whined and tired more easily, even when he sourced a few woolen blankets from a merchant to put over its back. Kuai had a fundamentally displeased personality and was even picky with the food it ate. In the months traveling with it, Liu Ying eventually got into a rhythm of feeding it primarily grass hay and grains, and the occasional crunchy fruit, as it did not accept soft textures for some reason.

Now that the winter was rolling in, however, Liu Ying had his sights set on a popular merchant town called Gaocheng, where he knew he’d probably be able to find folks with baled hay and a corner in a barn set aside for the winter that he could pay them for. Kuai was mostly useless as far as mules went, had a whiny temperament and couldn’t tell hay from sawdust, but Liu Ying had always liked animals and liked treating them well. They were simple in the way that the rest of the world wasn’t, and didn’t tend to leave an ache in his chest when he had to question their intentions. Leaving Chen Yun behind had done that.

It was something he tried not to dwell on too much, keeping himself occupied with traveling northbound and the odd jobs he picked up along the way. But oftentimes, before he was consumed by sleep after a day of hard work, he thought back on the short time he’d spent with Chen Yun. It was almost laughable now that he’d realized how many signs flew straight over his head in the beginning. The out-of-season, fresh fruit he was given on their way out of Ludong? From the Heavenly Realm, where food doesn’t spoil. Most likely from the Healer’s Gardens. The fact that Zhou Hui hadn’t shown up to disperse Jielong in his own region? He was lying in wait, and had maybe even asked Han Chuanli and Xu Qiang to take care of the problem for him despite them not knowing what he was truly doing. In fact, Liu Ying had also come to the realization that the little boy that was tugging and pulling at Duan Baozhai’s sleeve was for certain Zhou Hui, too. He was both embarrassed at his own lack of deduction for being the so-called God of Mystery, and also impressed with Zhou Hui’s blatant disregard for hiding most of these things but being able to mostly get away with them anyway. The two of them truly had as little sense as the Gods of Wind and Earth themselves.

But it had all since passed, and Liu Ying hadn’t caught any wind of Chen Yun or Zhou Hui since parting from Qingshan.

Snow was gently falling on the outskirts of Gaocheng – the first snowfall of the season. The white flakes dusted Kuai’s short mane as Liu Ying led them into town, shivering as he did. He would have to source a winter robe if he wanted to avoid freezing, but for right then, sharing a blanket with Kuai would have to do.

The merchant town was bustling even in the adverse weather. It was a major trajectory point of the north that was located between two kingdoms and sat at the mouth of a mountain pass, which encouraged business to bloom. Cloth, dyes, artisanal pieces and accessories were being sold across the main roads with stall owners beckoning for passerby to stop and take a look at their wares. Smaller stalls sold hearty winter crops and dried rice grass. It didn’t take too long before Liu Ying was able to find an area just down a shorter path leading east of town that had a wooden stable, a small barn adjacent to it, and a house that wrapped around a freshly-harvested grain field. Kuai snorted beside him as a few horses poked their heads out from the stable in varying heights. The barn door was slightly ajar, and Liu Ying peeked inside to see that it contained two well-fed oxen and a cow, along with a bleating goat.

Liu Ying turned around when he heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and saw a middle-aged man with scruffy facial hair and a loose topknot making his way over to him.

“Interested in any of them? My prices are fair,” he said, immediately pushing the barn door open further, “I’m not purchasing any at the moment if that’s what you’re here with the mule for, but I can offer a trade. For the goat, I mean. The bleating really gives me a headache.”

Liu Ying shook his head. “No, I’m actually here for a different reason. I can’t travel with Kuai here in the snow, so I’ll be staying in town for the winter. I was wondering if you could house him in your barn and let him eat from any hay you have until it’s time for us to leave. I’ll pay upfront.” He pulled out a silver coin from his robe and held it out.

“Huh? Is that quarter of the payment upfront? Half maybe?”

“No. It’s all I can offer monetarily, but I can work for you as well.”

The man was quiet for a moment, chewing on the end of a piece of wheat. His eyes that were searching Liu Ying’s face began to slowly travel down to the rest of his body and then back up. Liu Ying fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“What else can you offer?”

“The pleasure of looking at me. That’s all.”

The response made the man laugh. “Alright, alright. Take care of the animals and I’ll pay you the difference of what I’d normally charge to house that skittish thing. You know your way around a barn and stable, I presume?”

“Yes. I’ve worked in plenty in the past.”

“Hm. Good to hear. And your name?”

“Xiao Fan.”

“Cai Shoushan.”

Liu Ying bowed his head. “Thank you, Cai Shoushan. Kuai and I appreciate the hospitality.”

“Need a place for yourself too?”

“I’ll stay at the inn.”

Cai Shoushan shrugged his wide shoulders. “It’s not as big of a place as you’d think for a town like this. Rooms aren’t always guaranteed. My wife’s gone to tend to her ill sister until spring, so there’s some extra space in the house… Or, you’re welcome to sleep in the barn, if that’s preferrable,” he snickered, turning around to leave.

Liu Ying was free to roll his eyes now that the man was gone. Kuai nudged him with its nose, as though to express concern, but he just patted down its mane to comfort it.

Three weeks passed, and Liu Ying found himself enjoying the work much more than working in fields or docks. The horses were docile and whinnied whenever he walked past them, eager for a scratch behind the ears or another piece of fruit. Instead of brushing them inside their confined spaces, he took them out individually for some midday sun and exercise. The oxen weren’t too partial to being paraded around the field but they were easier to keep happy in general, although they ate much more than the other animals. The bleating little white goat might have been Liu Ying’s favorite after Kuai, of course, as it was extraordinarily affectionate and took great joy in falling asleep in his lap whenever he sat down to take a break. Animals were rarely sold in the winter season, as it was a time of conservation and preparation, so Cai Shoushan spent the better part of his days at his stall in the center of town, selling the grain from his fall harvest and the yogurt he produced from fermenting milk and mixing it with entirely too much flour.

Liu Ying’s nights were mostly spent taking long strolls around and outside town, then by the warm lantern in the barn on piles of hay, Kuai and the little white goat curled around him tightly. As Cai Shoushan had warned, the inn was full most days, but he also preferred to stay somewhere quiet, instead of having to try and sleep over the sounds of merchants arguing in the halls of the inn. On some of his nightly walks, he was able to pick up some conversation from the locals that were either getting ready to pack up their stalls and go home, or sitting outside the inn and drinking alcohol. A popular topic of conversation seemed to be that there had been demon sightings by merchants attempting to travel up the mountain pass to the next region, and people were wary about demons getting close to Gaocheng and possibly interrupting business. Apparently, there hadn’t been any injuries or deaths – yet. Liu Ying decided to mind his business in relation to the rumors, keep his head down, and keep working hard to make the winter go by faster. He didn’t need a repeat instance of what had transpired back in Ludong.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

There were a few times that Liu Ying felt the presence of someone standing by the doorway of the barn while he worked, which he mostly tried to ignore until the evening he heard Cai Shoushan stepping further inside while he was shoveling some hay with a nearly broken shovel, creeping up from behind him. Liu Ying paused his work to reach for his outer robes and push it aside to turn towards Cai Shoushan and show him the sheathed dagger that was strapped to his waist.

“Please don’t get confused,” Liu Ying told him in a deathly serious tone, watching as his eyes widened slightly.

Cai Shoushan took a step back, holding up his hands in surrender as his face reddened. He reeked of alcohol. “Okay, no need for that,” he said, slurring his words slightly, “I wasn’t going to do anything against your will…”

Liu Ying sighed and went back to shoveling. “And that’s why you were creeping up from behind me?”

“I just wanted to get a better look. You did say that the pleasure of looking at you was included in exchange for housing you and the mule.” Cai Shoushan collapsed onto some baled hay, running his hands down his face tiredly.

“Why don’t you wait until your wife gets back if you want to put that unwashed thing in something?”

“Don’t you get lonely? How long have you been traveling?”

Liu Ying paused, then said, “A long time.”

“And?”

“I prefer being alone.”

“Come on,” Cai Shoushan complained, “We’ll be in each other’s company for the whole of winter. Open up a little.”

Irritation flaring, Liu Ying snapped, “About what? I just had to threaten you with a dagger to prevent you from putting your grubby hands on me.”

Cai Shoushan just ignored him and continued, “Where did you come from anyway? What’s your story?”

“Even if I told you, you’d be too drunk to remember any of it.”

“That’s not true. I’m only a little bit drunk.”

“Just go to bed. I’m not interested in continuing this conversation.”

“Fine – answer this instead. Are you hiding from someone?”

Liu Ying froze, hands gripping the shovel’s handle as though it were trying to escape his hold. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah… a gentleman came to my stall earlier today and asked if I had seen anyone with your description. ‘Young, pale skin, lopsided ponytail tied with a blue ribbon’, he said.” Cai Shoushan noticed the tension in the air despite his drunken stupor, so he waved his hand dismissively at him. “Don’t worry. I told him I’d seen no such thing. You’re too good with the animals for me to give you up that easily. And animals have a way of knowing who’s got bad character, you know? So I thought I’d ask you what your story was before passing any kind of judgment.”

Liu Ying turned around to fully look at him. He looked pathetic, strewn across the baled hay like he’d been thrown, face ruddy from the alcohol, eyes glossed over and half-lidded. Disgust curled in his stomach.

“So you thought you’d be able to strong-arm me at first, and if I resisted, you would have thrown that information out so that I’d sleep with you. You got drunk to steel your nerves. But when you realized I’d stand my ground, you decided to take a more indirect route. Perhaps kindly offer protection in exchange for warming your bed?”

Cai Shoushan pushed his upper body up with one elbow to get a better look at him, head lolling to the side. “You’re a little smarter than you look. But I’m giving you the option, aren’t I? I’m not forcing you to take it. If you never take risks, you -- hick! -- you won't get anywhere in life."

“What did he look like?” Liu Ying demanded, throwing the shovel down.

“A pretty boy. Tall, dark robes, wealthy-looking. Thought he’d be from one of the two kingdoms we’re in between. Um… gold hairpiece. Sounded like a right bastard at first, though. He took one look at my yogurt and told me I was making it all wrong – tch,” Cai Shoushan said, “But then he gave me pointers on how to improve it. I was so surprised I almost gave you up right there and then.”

Yi Meng.

Not all gods needed to shapeshift, or even knew how. Zhou Hui had taught Liu Ying how to do so long ago, and it had been incredibly useful in its own way since then, but someone like Zhou Hui required it if he wanted to move freely across the mortal realm. He was well-known and his image had been replicated many times in statues and shrine paintings. But most gods – lesser known and not in possession of any mortal territory – didn’t need to hide their appearances. Yi Meng was one of them.

A fellow erudite god, Yi Meng often walked in Liu Ying’s circles. They’d spent countless hours in the Scholar’s Pavilion playing weiqi and debating literature, along with the others of their path, but things were different with Yi Meng. Not only was he extremely intelligent, he had a sense of charisma that was frankly very difficult to find in erudites in general, as most were apathetic and unsociable. He was liked, respected and admired – not only by their peers, but by the Heavenly Realm as a whole. Liu Ying was no different from the rest when it came to admiring the likes of him. The competence he displayed during missions, the thoughtful things he said, the way he listened first and spoke later, were all things Liu Ying couldn’t help but want to emulate. When Yi Meng finally noticed him after he managed to create a name for himself as the God of Mystery, he had felt embarrassingly flattered to even have their gazes even meet. And when he began to regularly invite him to spend time in the Scholar’s Pavilion together, he figured there was no better opportunity to try and learn from the God of Perception.

Despite all of this, however, Yi Meng was incredibly difficult to get to know, and thus, they never grew much closer as friends than surface-level acquaintances that played a lot of weiqi and occasionally were paired on missions. Perhaps it was also contributed to by the fact that Liu Ying put him on a bit of a pedestal that he had so much trouble deciphering and peeling back the layers of his personality.

But one thing that Liu Ying knew with his whole heart about Yi Meng was that there was no beating him at weiqi.

He saw things from angles that no one else could.

“Hey – what are you doing now?” Cai Shoushan got to his feet, swaying slightly as he watched Liu Ying begin to gather his belongings at a rapid pace. “Relax for a moment. Didn’t I say that I told him I hadn’t seen anyone by that description he provided?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Liu Ying said brusquely, “He’ll find me as long as I’m here.”

“What’s the problem anyway? You owe him money or something? A guy like that doesn’t seem to have to want for anything.”

“Just shut up and get out of my way.”

“Listen, you’ve been here for three weeks. If he was certain you were here, he would have gotten to you by now, don’t you think? Besides, it’s been dangerous outside of town lately. Lots of demon sightings at night along the mountain pass. Don’t risk it.”

Liu Ying stilled for a moment. He would rather gouge his own eyes out than admit that the drunken, perverted cowman had a point, but his words did make him rethink the situation. Just by the fact that Yi Meng was asking around about him indicated that he didn’t have much of a lead, and the time it took to even arrive in Gaocheng also indicated that he’d been stuck in other nearby towns and villages in an attempt to trace him.

Kuai nudged him again with his snout, and he absentmindedly scratched behind his sharp ears, lost in thought. Cai Shoushan was rubbing his forehead and eyes like he was trying to force himself to sober up, then dropped his hand by his side.

“He’s staying at the inn, if you’re curious. Probably paid a lump sum to guarantee himself a room, the way those merchants squabble over them.”

“Can I enlist your help with something?” Liu Ying suddenly asked.

Cai Shoushan paused and stared at him. “Huh? Like what?”