Shang considered himself an excellent explorer, or more accurately, an excellent wanderer. He knew the forests and fields around his village, FuJia, far more intimately than his parents would have liked. Despite his many escapades, he did not recognize his current surroundings. The meadow was flat and utterly devoid of landmarks.

“Hello?” Shang called out, his voice lingering eerily in the silence. “YiHua? Xin?” Shang started walking towards the faint rushing sound in the distance. It was always a safe bet to go towards water. He followed the whisper of the water, calling out to his friends as he went. He glanced warily at the night sky as he walked and shivered at the thought of his mother’s reaction to his tardiness. His promise to be back before sunset and Xin’s last words to him haunted him. He only hoped that his friends had made it home safely and created some creative explanation for his absence.

The sound of flowing water led him to the edge of a small pool fed by a waterfall. A lopsided mulberry tree hung its branches above the water. The tree was gnarled and ugly, its long barren branches looming threateningly over the pool. In the darkness, Shang imagined he could see the faint outlines of a face in the knots and scars on the trunk. Shang gulped down his fear. He was not afraid of the dark. Not afraid. He forced himself to walk closer to the tree.

A large crow sat on its branches, silently observing Shang as he approached. Upon close inspection of the tree, there was no face. Shang sighed in relief and surveyed his surroundings, hoping to catch a landmark to orient himself. His hopes were quickly dashed. There was nothing in the vicinity other than the pool and the mulberry tree.

He kicked at the ground and sat next to the pool, staring aimlessly at the reflection of the moon on its surface. Something about the reflection of the sky in the water unnerved him. He looked up, studying the celestial bodies in the sky with a growing unease. Something was not quite right. After studying the stars, he could not place a reason for his discomfort. Shang decided to focus on more immediate problems. Home. He had to get home.

“Xin’s right, mom’s going to skin me for sure.” Shang grumbled under his breath.

“Is she so frightening?”

Shang jumped to his feet at the sudden voice. He spun around searching for its source. A willowy woman stood a few paces from him, under the mulberry tree. Shang had little experience discerning the age of adults. They were either his parent’s age or ancient. This woman was like his mother but maybe younger. She was dressed in a ceremonial robe, like those worn by the village women during the autumn festival. Shang always thought that the rich heavy fabrics and oversized sleeves of the dresses made the women look overburdened and constrained. However, the sumptuous style fit the woman in front of him perfectly despite her thin frame.

“Your mother, I mean.” She prodded gently. She smiled softly at him, her almond-shaped eyes waning like crescent moons with the motion. Her golden irises burned as she gazed at him. Shang stared, mesmerized by the movement of her lips as she spoke. Their red color contrasted intensely with her pale skin and dark hair. He had never seen someone so beautiful. Like an empress from a fireside tale.

He shook his head slightly, waking from his stupor. “My mother? She’s much more than just frightening.”

A clear laugh erupted from the woman. The bell-like sound sends shivers down his spine. Shang felt himself smile in response. The woman, beyond her strange beauty, was eerily familiar. He found he liked the sound of her laugh, and he wanted to hear more of it.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right about that,” she mused.

Shang nodded fervently, feigning understanding. “What is your name aunty? My name is Fu Shang,” he asked with a dimpled grin. It was the practiced smile that got him out of many sticky situations in the past. It was just the right blend of mischievousness and innocence that unfailingly warmed even the steeliest of hearts.

There was a short pause as the woman studied him. Her gaze washed over him from head to toe before focusing on the left side of his face. Instead of the pure black hairs on the rest of his body, his left eyebrow and eyelashes were streaked with white. His left eye was a shade lighter than his right though it was hard to tell in the dim light. A white stripe of hair stuck out from above his ear, made even more evident by his hair bun. Shang instinctively touched his left eye in response to her attention. Though he had long grown accustomed to the teasing of other children about his birthmark, something about this woman made him feel embarrassed about his deformity.

“Fu Shang, you can call me aunty Ju.” Her tone was warm and inviting, free of any judgment or scorn. Shang gingerly lowered his hand, his confidence returning. “Tell me Shang-bo, why are you here?”

Shang paused, unsure if revealing his secrets would earn him a spanking like last time. The lady in front of him was not from the village and would be unlikely to inform on him to the elders. He was still buzzing with energy from the ride and eager to brag about the experience.

“It all started because a trader came into town and told everyone that he was late getting to the village because he spotted a herd of jade rabbits right outside the rice fields. On the day of a full moon no less! And everyone knows that riding on a jade rabbit under the full moon will bring luck and riches for the whole year so that’s what I decided to do,” Shang rambled on. His voice lost steam as he spoke. “I guess maybe they aren’t as lucky as they say because now I can’t find my way home.” he considered, his lips pursed in thought. “Anyways, I really need to get back home. Do you think you can help me Aunty Ju? Do you know how to get to FuJia?” Shang asked hopefully.

“FuJia?” Ju mouthed the word like it was foreign to her.

“Yes, it’s in the AnSan mountains at the edge of FuLong province.” Though Shang had never left his small valley, his mother taught him basic map reading. Ju’s face remained placid, unreadable.

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“FuLong…” she paused, her brows furrowed in though. “No my dear. I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Shang’s face fell at her words.“I didn’t think I went that far.” He mumbled dejectedly.

“Yes, but I’m sur-.” her words were cut short by the flapping of wings. The crow that was resting on the tree branch flew down to perch on Ju’s shoulder. The feathers of its wings were so dark that they appeared blue in the moonlight. Its talons gouged deeply into her flesh as it tried to find purchase, but Ju did not seem to mind. “Do you have something to add?” Shang was about to respond when he realized that she was not addressing him but the crow.

The crow’s eyes, dark and glistening, pierced into Shang. They were at once both black and impossibly vibrant, giving off an opalescent gleam. Shang faced the crow, not backing down from its scrutiny. As he met the crow’s eyes, a wave of disorientation washed over him. Shang felt like he was back on his rabbit. The lightlessness. The weight. The two forces ripped at him until his stomach was ready to give way. He wrestled his gaze from the bird and doubled over, groaning faintly.

Shang closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, waiting for the nausea to ease. Lights like stars permeated his closed lids, spotting his vision and causing his head to ache along with his stomach. His body curled in on itself. The torrent of pain washed over him, threatening to drown him. He lay there for what seemed an eternity, caught between consciousness and delirium.

He focused on that in-between space. The sliver of air between the waves of tumult. The space between light and dark, pain and oblivion. He could see it in his head. Even though it was small—he could imagine its existence. An escape from the pain of his body, the light behind his eyelids. He only had to find it, reach for it.

He was swimming in a pool of black and white. The liquid tingled as it touched his skin. Impossibly cold, so cold that it was almost hot. Or was it hot? So hot that he was shivering from the heat. In that pool of ice and fire, he could faintly register voices in a faraway place.

“Wu-sen that is enough.”

“Enough? What is enough for the likes of us?”

“Your cruelty knows no bounds. To think you would bring that child here. For this!”

“Bring him?”

“If not you, then who? I thought you were done with these petty games.”

“Be wary girl. Your ascension has made you bold. You forget yourself. This whole charade reeks of sentiment.”

“Sentiment? Oh Wu-sen, you think so little of me.?”

“You blind yourself because of sentiment. Do you not smell it on him? He stinks of it. Her scent?”

A pause. So long that he assumed they had left, and he was alone. Drowning. Floating.

“You cannot be sure.” A whisper even fainter than the rest.

“Fine then. Live in your delusion, but I assure you I did not bring him here. I wouldn’t have bothered. He is as vulnerable here as below now that we see him. It would be too big a risk to bring him to this place.”

Silence.

“If not you, then how did he get here?” How did he get here?

How did I get here? The question reverberated in his pool, causing ripples in his world of opposites.

Shang knew he did not belong here. This world was too full of emptiness. He had to escape. To his home. His friends. His family.

He stopped swimming, letting his body sink with the weight of the darkness and light sticking to his skin. He was falling down, up, away. The direction didn’t matter because he knew where he wanted to go. A heart shaped face framed with ink black hair. A warm bed with a window open to the stars. He could feel himself falling towards it. The sliver of peace. A slice of nothing amidst the mayhem.

His eyes snapped open. The pain disappeared so quickly that his body spasmed with its departure. The sound of rushing water. The meadow. He was not yet home. Shang turned his head tentatively, still afraid the pain would come back.

The meadow looked much the same. Had only seconds passed? It felt like an eternity. Now two figures stood under the tree. Aunty Ju, an already tall woman, was dwarfed by the man standing next to her. He was the largest man Shang had ever seen. A tunic of dazzling gold hung taut over his burly frame. His hair was pulled back in a severe bun, giving a stern cast to his already strong features. He was a vision of vitality and strength, but he carried a frail white cane in his left hand. It looked far too brittle to support his weight. He leaned heavily on it even while standing.

Two sets of eyes were focused intently on Shang now, one gold, one black. Aunty Ju’s expression of shock quickly twisted as Shang pushed himself up to a sitting position. Her brows pulled together, her eyes growing glassy with emotion.

“What’s wrong aunty Ju?” Shang asked. His voice cracked slightly from thirst. “Was it the mean crow? Where did it go anyways?” The crow was nowhere in sight.

Shang knew that somehow that crow had caused his stomach and head to hurt. Talking animals, while Shang had never seen one, were common enough in the stories his mother told him. Foxes that lure naughty boys with promises of sweets. Toads that bargain for grain.

The tall man shook his head gravely. His lips twisted in disgust. “You see, Ju-sen. You cannot deny it now.”

Ju’s shook her head minutely in resignation. “How could she?” Her voice was so feeble that it seemed to come from an altogether different woman. Her grace and presence were dwarfed by her newfound sadness.

“Dear child, you may think you know her, but you’ve only caught a glimpse of her existence. She has always been…an enigma,” the dark-eyed man said.

Shang watched this interaction with a sense of unease. Who were they talking about? He felt overwhelmed with the events of the day, and a growing unease crept up his spine at the strangers’ words.

“Then it must be done,” Ju said. Her expression slackened in acceptance. A decision had been made. Her voice was cold now and her face smoothed of feeling. Her hands slipped into the sleeve of her dress pulling out a jade hilted dagger. Shang’s eyes were transfixed by the blade.

“Allow me. It will be more…poetic, after what she’s put me through,” the tall man offered. The man’s image blurred, and he reappeared in front of Shang, his hand already resting on Shang’s shoulder, holding him steady. Eyes like dark wells bore into him, drinking him in. But Shang did not look back. Instead, his focus was on the knife in the man’s hands. “Close your eyes little one. It will make things easier.”

Shang did not close his eyes. He could not force his eyes shut even if he tried. They were glued to the glint of the blade on its journey to his throat.