He landed in a dim alley. Houses and lean-tos clustered together, some practically built on top of one another. Dirty, unwashed walls shared streaks of dirt. A few children played in a corner, kicking a ragged ball. Chickens wandered around, eyed by a small pack of lazy cats. A mouse skittered across the road, and one of the chickens charged out and pecked, capturing the mouse in one bite. It strutted off with its prize.

Chen Wuya walked on, eyes flickering around, then set dead ahead.

“Hero!”

A young girl rushed out of one of the houses, hands black with soot, robes ragged and patched. She grabbed his hands and stared up at him, eyes wide with devotion. “You came. You really came!”

Chen Wuya jerked his hands free and gave her a look.

“Liyan, Liyan, don’t bother him!” A grandmother chased after the girl. Skin leathery, hair white and tucked in a bun, she looked as hold as the hills. Wrinkles dug trenches around her face. Deep crows’ feet crinkled the corners of her eyes, which twinkled, deep and dark as wells.

She pulled the girl away and bowed to Chen Wuya apologetically. “Please forgive my granddaughter.”

He nodded silently and walked on, leaving the pair behind.

“Hero! Hero, come back! I’ve been waiting so long. I’ve been—” the girl’s voice caught abruptly. She broke out coughing, thick, heavy coughs.

Chen Wuya half turned, peering over his shoulder.

The girl had raised her hands to her mouth. Blood flecked her lips and her palms. Catching his eye, she quickly wiped her mouth and rubbed her hands on her filthy robes. “Hero, please…”

He furrowed his brows. “How long have you been ill?”

“T-two weeks,” she said.

He frowned. Offering nothing else, he flicked his robes and strode off. Externally, his face remained set, but internally, his heart roiled. That illness… shouldn’t it have long since died out? After all, I’m the one who introduced it! This many centuries later, there’s no reason it should be so virulent.

Two weeks. She won’t last much longer. It’s regrettable, but what can I do? I’ve been stripped of my powers. Reincarnated a thousand times. Even if I wanted to, what could I change?

A tiny voice murmured something, just at the fringe of his consciousness. He scowled and shook his head, dismissing it. Instead, he set his eyes ahead, deeper into the town.

Streets twisted. Intersections opened up, offering infinite options. Chen Wuya wove his way along, slowly growing more lost. All those centuries ago, I don’t remember it being so crowded and complicated. It should be… straight ahead, but no matter how I turn, it seems like I get nowhere! He twisted his lips, annoyed, and flicked his eyes upward, to the roofs. A second later, he snorted at himself. I don’t need to draw anyone’s attention yet.

Abruptly, he stopped and looked back. The girl darted around a corner behind him, hiding. He sighed. “Come out.”

The girl hesitated, then peeked around the corner. After a moment, she timidly stepped into the light. Staring at her feet, she risked a glance at him, then glanced back down, afraid to look up.

“Do you know where the temple is?”

“Call this servant Liyan, hero. Temple?”

He tipped his head. “The one holding Qiu Xuanwu’s sword.”

She bit her lip, then nodded. “This way.”

Chen Wuya cocked an eyebrow, but followed.

Despite the girl’s initial uncertainty, she walked the streets with the familiarity of a local, taking one turn after another and snaking her way through the mazelike shantytown. A few times, Chen Wuya caught glimpses of finer streets at the end of the narrow alleyways, but the girl always flinched away from those routes. Instead, she chose filthy backroads and narrow alleys, flitting from shadow to shadow like a rat.

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Like a rat… Chen Wuya sighed, reminiscing. Those… were not my most illustrious days.

Weak. Cold. He huddled close to a furry form, blindly fighting his fellow hairless siblings for milk. Days passed, then weeks. His tiny, weak self grew into a handsome rat, sleek with shiny gray fur. He stretched his almost-hand paws and chittered, pleased with himself. “At last, a mammal. The potential of this form…!”

A second later, he bowed his head, scowling at the ground. “Dammit, am I really excited to be a rat? A rat! Kai Bailong, if I find you in this life, I swear I’ll bite you!”

“Meow?”

Qiu Xuanwu froze. He looked up, slowly.

A huge, fluffy white cat stood over him, gazing hungrily upon him with shining amber eyes.

Qiu Xuanwu bared his teeth at the cat. “You dare to fight me? A mere mortal beast? You—”

The cat swiped at him, claws extended. Razor-sharp blades as long as his hand glinted in the sun, rushing for his throat.

Eyes wide, Qiu Xuanwu leaped back, narrowly avoiding the swipe. He scurried off at top speed. The cat pounced after him, batting him with a shielded paw, claws sheathed. Rolling with the blow, he jumped back to his feet and raced ahead on all fours, sprinting for the narrow gap where a wooden door warped away from its frame. The cat chased after him, tail high.

Qiu Xuanwu slipped into darkness. The cat slammed into the door. Yowling, it clawed after him, batting around the gap in the door.

“Ha, that shows you. Even as a rat, no one is the equal of Qiu Xuanwu in combat!”

“A rat!”

He whirled. A woman stood over him, wielding a broom. She thrust it at him, batting him away with the bristles as she kicked the door open at the same time.

Thrown into the air, Qiu Xuanwu stared, wide-eyed. The cat stared after him, almost hypnotized. It leaped into the air, jaws open wide.

Ah… it was a short life, Qiu Xuanwu thought to himself, closing his eyes.

“Here,” the girl said, jolting him back to the present. Chen Wuya blinked, looking around them.

They stood in a corner. Trash piled high in the alleys in both directions. Down at the end of the lefthand alley, across a broad street, stood a shining temple. A long line of people waited to enter. Chen Wuya watched for a while, waiting, but no one exited the temple, and no one was allowed in. He looked at Liyan. “Is this common?”

She glanced at the line, then nodded, staring up at him with doe eyes. “It’s said that sometimes, the purifying power of the chant can wear off on those around it, as well, so the sick go in the hopes they’ll be healed.”

“The sick? Do they have the same sickness as you?” he asked.

Liyan nodded. “The plague began when the sword was unsealed, so it’s called the Sword Plague. It’s said to be Qiu Xuanwu’s curse, the last remnant of his ill will.”

“Qiu Xuanwu’s—” Chen Wuya spluttered. How—? This plague came to the continent centuries after I died! Don’t blame dead men for your problems!

She nodded solemnly.

No, wait. It came from my sword? From Xiong Zhao? His brows furrowed. He glanced at Liyan. “I need to get inside the temple.”

She nodded, bobbing in place. “I know a secret way in.”

He started to turn, but before he could, a gilded palanquin drew up to the front of the temple. A handsome man stepped out, dripping with gold and jade. All around him, the people waiting in line to enter the temple dropped to their knees. He smiled, soaking it in, then lifted a hand to the palanquin. A small hand clasped his, barely half the size of his, and a delicate young woman emerged, extraordinarily beautiful. Creamy skin, clear as jade, eyes as dark as the night sky, and a small body nearly as perfect as a doll’s draped in layers of finest gold brocade, she stood out even beside the man. She cast her dark eyes around and bit cherry-red lips, peeking out from under a heavy headdress, then followed the man inside.

At the door, the man paused suddenly, a frown on his face. He turned and gazed directly down the alley Chen Wuya stood in. Their gazes met. Chen Wuya stared back defiantly, lifting his chin. The man’s frown deepened.

Liyan yanked his hand, pulling him down. “Bow, bow!”

“Why?” Chen Wuya asked calmly, still staring the man down.

She gave him a nervous glance and spoke quickly, words tripping over one another in their rush to escape. “That’s Ming Jinhai. The richest man in this city! Blessed by the Heavens themselves. As long as you enter the temple alongside him, your sickness will be cured, no matter how severe. He’s an immortal who’s lived for two hundred years. Some even say he’s descended from a deity. Bow!”

“Descended from a deity,” he scoffed. Qiu Xuanwu does not bow before a trifling martial artist who flaunts his meager talents before mortals.

Standing in the door, the man’s gaze burned with a silent intensity. Unbothered, Chen Wuya returned the look, crossing his arms. The young woman peeked back around the door, curious what her escort was waiting on.

Liyan yanked his hand again, shaking her head so hard her whole body trembled. With a quiet snort, he turned his eyes downward, acquiescing to Liyan’s wishes.

Ming Jinhai turned away at last and stepped into the temple after his beautiful guest. The door shut behind him.

“He didn’t have to wait in line,” Chen Wuya muttered. He glanced at Liyan. “A secret way in?”

She hesitated, then bobbed again. “It’s… dirty, though, hero, I…”

“Dirty?” Chen Wuya’s eyes clouded, years past flashing before his eyes. Scuttling through narrow pipes. Sneaking through filthy drains. Crawling in and out of garbage piles, fighting other rats for scraps of meat. Covered in the most hideous scraps and slime, fur black with disgusting dirt, unable to clean himself except with his tongue. He shuddered, running a hand down his arm as if to wipe that ancient dirt clean.

Liyan drew her hands close to her chest. She nodded again, almost shivering with fear. “I… I…”

“Dirty is fine. Lead the way.”