In her fitful and fevered state, Abrial began to dream again.

She could tell at once that it was one of those dreams — a vivid memory from hundreds of years ago that was granted to her through Shin Minyeo’s tattoo.

But this time, something was different. Something was off.

There was a strange feeling in the dream atmosphere. It was somehow more vivid than any of the dreams she had experienced before: the colors and shapes of the ancient village houses were sharper, the setting so clear and lifelike that she could smell the dirt road her viewpoint hovered over, feel a warm summer breeze pass through the street.

Something else hovered in the air as well, though she could not place it.

It felt something like…foreboding?

Was that the right word?

Whatever it was, it felt uncomfortable, and not very safe. The dream air seemed to prickle darkly.

From ahead came the sound of shouting.

Standing there on the roadside were three people surrounded by a group of hollering teens and children.

Abrial’s heart pricked. Was that person standing there who she thought they were? She drew closer to the commotion.

The group of shouting children and teens seemed to have given up on their tactic of throwing rocks using magic, which they had used in previous dreams to bully Shao Cheng. Instead, they were now furiously hurling jagged stones from the ground with their own hands at the three people standing in front of them.

Abrial’s breath caught as she caught sight of the three people.

Standing resolutely in front of two younger boys was a sixteen or seventeen-year-old young woman with pretty dark hair messily coming down from her bun, and angrily sparking dark eyes. Her burlap apron was torn in places, and a long red scratch had been gashed across her pale cheek. She held her arms out, shielding the two young boys behind her, whom Abrial caught a quick glimpse of: Shao Cheng, of course, in his patched burlap clothes, and little Li Jun in pale blue.

“Shin Minyeo!” a male bully spat, pointing at the young woman contemptuously. “Get the fuck outta the way! Who’re you to defend spiritually dumb scum like Shao Cheng?”

“Yeah!” another child shouted. “You’re not even from Gongkua! Mama says you’re from Geum! You’re Geuman! That makes you a dirty, dumb person!”

“Geumans stink! They eat smelly cabbage!”

“You’re just as bad as a spiritually dumb person, even if you can do magic! You’re gross!”

“Get outta the way already!”

Shin Minyeo’s dark brows were drawn down in concentration. As she continued to hold up her arms to defend the two boys behind her, the group of belligerent, bullying children and teens continued to hurl stones at her as though she were a target they were trying to smash to pieces with all their might.

However, every stone that was cast her way fell to the ground about an arm’s length away from her body. It was as though there was an invisible shield hanging there in the air, preventing anything from touching Shin Minyeo or the boys.

Clearly, Shin Minyeo was performing some difficult magic to keep the stones at bay. A drop of sweat dripped down her face. Abrial saw her wince slightly as the drop seeped into the cut across her cheek.

“Come on!” that teen boy groaned again, hurling a stone with all his might. “Cut it out already! You filthy Geumans just don’t know when to stop, do you? I’ll show you!”

The boy threw a stone towards Shin Minyeo as hard as he could. It flew through the air. Instead of slowing down slightly as it soared, however, it seemed to gain momentum. A harsh wind blew through the air. The boy must be using magic to summon a wind to speed that stone.

Like an arrow, the stone pierced through Shin Minyeo’s defensive wall of air. It hurtled towards Li Jun, who was peering apprehensively beneath Shin Minyeo’s left arm.

In an instant, Shin Minyeo swore and curled over to shield Li Jun in her arms. With a sickening thump, the stone struck her in the ribs, sending her and Li Jun flying. Bright red blood seeped from the open spot in Shin Minyeo’s torn robes, where the stone had struck. She remained sprawled in the dirt of the road, holding Li Jun’s form tightly.

The children and teens lowered their stones for a moment, shocked that one had actually hit. That teen boy who had broken Shin Minyeo’s barrier laughed loudly, pointing with glee.

“See? Good-for-nothing, all you Geumans and spiritually dumb bitches and sons of bitches! At least you protected the village chief’s son, ha! Though I don’t think Chief Li cares much about his youngest son who spends all his time with a spiritually dumb person. What a joke. If spiritually dumb people bring bad luck and disease, Geumans bring stupidity and uselessness!”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP, JI XIN!”

A sickening crack sounded. Suddenly, that teen boy — perhaps he was Ji Xin? — keeled over.

Several children and teens around him gasped in horror.

“Ah Xin!” someone cried. “What happened?”

“He’s bleeding! His head is bleeding!”

Indeed, when Ji Xin took his hand away from the side of his head, his eyes widened to the size of the moon, fear shivering in them. His hand was smeared thickly with blood.

He raised a shaking finger to point at the one who had thrown the stone.

“Y-you!” he stammered, stumbling backwards. “You fucking son of a bitch! Shao Cheng, you b-bastard! How dare you!”

Shao Cheng stood by Shin Minyeo and Li Jun’s sprawled forms. His eyes flamed with a dark fire that seemed to dance with shadows as he swiped up another stone from the dirt road. He had scratches on his face, too — ones that were fresh and oozed blood, and pink ones that were still healing. Seeing his longer face and fiercer features that had lost some of their softness, Abrial realized that he was a little older now — maybe twelve or thirteen, even.

Without warning, Shao Cheng violently flung another, even sharper stone at that teen bully, Ji Xin. His strength was shocking, fueled by flaming rage; the sharp stone flew like a dagger.

With another sickening crack, Ji Xin lay writhing in the dirt, clutching his ribs in great pain. He began to shriek out like a wounded dog, screaming and whimpering.

“Help! Someone bring me away! Don’t let him throw any more! AIIIIEEE!”

Several teens rushed forward to help Ji Xin up. He held both the bloody side of his head, and his ribs, both of his hands smeared red with blood. If Abrial had had a body in this dream, she would have raised her eyebrows in curiosity. The spot Ji Xin was holding on his ribs was the same spot Shin Minyeo had been struck before she fell.

As Ji Xin was helped away, stumbling and whimpering, the crowd of children and teens dispersed, many following back after him, while others hurried away in random directions now that the leader of their group was fleeing. From down the road, Ji Xin’s voice carried back like the furious bleating of a hoarse goat:

“YOU FUCKING SICK BASTARD! FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! JUST YOU WAIT, SHAO CHENG! I’LL MAKE YOU REGRET EVER BEING ALIVE ONE DAY! OUCH, OW OW OW, DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME THERE, YOU IDIOT!”

Though Ji Xin was far gone from sight, Shao Cheng spat furiously in the dirt.

Then, quickly as lightning, he rushed to where Shin Minyeo lay in the dirt.

First, he helped up Li Jun, who was struggling to extract himself from Shin Minyeo’s grasp. Then he knelt by Shin Minyeo, examining the wound in her ribs. As he peered at how deep it was, feeling her ribs carefully, his glittering obsidian eyes began to flash. A hatred so fierce that it seemed solid surfaced within them. It felt almost dangerous to look at his eyes at all.

Li Jun’s warm hand appeared on Shao Cheng’s shoulder.

“Minyeo noona has a broken rib, I think,” Li Jun said quietly. “She’ll be all right, we just need to take her to her home. They can heal her there. What about you?”

Shao Cheng shook off Li Jun’s hand.

“I’m fine,” he muttered darkly. “Help me carry her.”

Li Jun nodded, his brow knitting with worry. Together, they shouldered Shin Minyeo’s weight and set off down the road, limping slightly.

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

The dream changed, like the rippling of a lake.

Now Abrial observed Shao Cheng from a short distance.

He was crouching by the riverside. This location seemed vaguely familiar. After she thought about it for a moment, Abrial placed it. It was that spot on the riverbank — the place she had seen Shao Cheng for the first time in that very first dream, back while she was staying at Shin Minyeo’s cottage. It was strange to be reminded of that time. A hollow feeling filled the air when Abrial thought of her stay with Shin Minyeo, and Shin Minyeo’s mischievous smile. It was strange to think that Shin Minyeo was probably a ghost…but then again not so strange. What made her feel hollow was the fact that Shin Minyeo being a ghost meant that Abrial would probably…never see her again. The thought was so hollow…and strange. Abrial forced herself to focus on the dream instead.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Fuck you, Ji Xin!”

Shao Cheng hurled a pebble into the flowing river with hate and flashing in his eyes.

“Fuck you, Feng Ling!”

A chucked another pebble. It splashed into the river like a strike of lightning.

“Fuck you, fuck you!”

Shao Cheng continued to swear out a long list of names, his voice growing lower and more hoarse with each pebble he threw to punctuate the swears. He continued until, at last, his screams sounded like those of a wounded animal caught in a trap, shrieking and whimpering at the pain spreading through its own body like poison it had been forced to drink.

Shao Cheng lifted another pebble with shaking fingers. A sob escaped his lips, lost in the flowing sound of the river. Another whimper, then another sob followed.

Like a crystal of salt dissolving in a vat of hot water, Shao Cheng melted into a puddle of tears. His shoulders shook like those of a lost wolf cub, alone in the wilderness with no companions to turn to.

“Why is it like this?” he spat, not bothering to wipe away the tears that streamed down his cheeks in waterfalls, or the snot that dribbled over his lips. It was like he didn’t even notice the feeling of it on his face.

“Why is everything like this?” he repeated. “Does it have to be? Is there something wrong with me?”

He lifted his own palm to his blurry eyes, staring at it as though there might be an answer written into his skin.

“Am I really…a curse?”

His palm remained grimy and blank. No answer could be found there. He dropped it to the ground.

Like a little bear cub, he curled up into himself and hugged his knees, rocking and sobbing, sniffing and staring at the river water that bubbled past with no care for his suffering.

Suddenly, Shao Cheng jerked.

Someone had sat next to him so quietly that he hadn’t noticed them arrive. How long had they been sitting there?! Fuck! They’d seen him like this? Shao Cheng choked, scrambling away, wiping his face violently and stemming his sobs.

The person had been sitting very close to his right, so that their knees touched. Who the hell was this?

Quickly, Shao Cheng finished rubbing the tears and snot off with his rough burlap sleeve, leaving red marks on his cheeks and nose. He didn’t turn to look at the person, whoever it was. That would just show off his stupidly pitiful, puffy red eyes.

“Whoever you are,” he hissed, voice sounding warbled from crying, “Scram. If you try anything, I’ll drown you in the fucking river!”

“It’s just me, gege,” said a quiet voice.

Shao Cheng’s eyes widened. He whirled around.

Sitting nearby was none other than Li Jun. He sat hugging his own knees like Shao Cheng had just been, his warm skin and deep brown hair glinting in the afternoon sun. His warm brown eyes shone at Shao Cheng, filled with pain. The bluish gleam in them was enchanting.

Shao Cheng’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Quickly, he turned again and gave his face a few more fierce rubs, almost rubbing the top layer of skin off.

“You don’t have to hide your tears,” Li Jun said quietly. “It’s okay to cry. Cry in front of me all you want. I won’t say anything.”

Li Jun’s hand reached out to pat Shao Cheng’s knee gently, causing Shao Cheng to flush with infinite embarrassment. With a jerk, Shao Cheng sat up straight and threw Li Jun’s hand off.

“What’s wrong?” Li Jun asked, frowning with concern.

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Shao Cheng spat, though his voice cracked, betraying his pain. “And I wasn’t fucking crying!” He crossed his arms and angled his face away from Li Jun, so that none of the extremely obvious red burlap markings or tear stains could be seen by him.

Li Jun stayed silent. After a moment, he said:

“But…gege, I’m not pitying you. I just want you to feel okay to cry. Crying can make you feel better. My jiejie always says that.”

When Shao Cheng didn’t answer, he added:

“If you don’t want to cry anymore, that’s okay too. Can I sit here with gege?”

Shao Cheng didn’t turn his face back. Gruffly, he answered:

“Whatever! Sit if you want. Doesn’t matter to me.”

So, the two of them sat by the riverside, watching the white-blue water flow in many braids downstream. They both hugged their knees, elbows touching.

After a little silence, Li Jun spoke up. He sounded a little nervous.

“Gege,” he said. “Do you want to play a game? Games can help you feel better.”

Shao Cheng had been entranced by the sparkling river water. He had forgotten his face looked a mess from crying, so he turned to Li Jun at last and quirked a dark eyebrow with a wary scowl.

“What kind of game? I’m feeling tired, so if there’s running I won’t do it.”

Li Jun let go of his knees and shook his head vigorously. “There’s no running, I promise! It’s very easy. It’s a building game. Here, let me show you.”

He pushed himself up onto his haunched and rolled up his pale blue cloth sleeves. Like a treasure-hunter, he searched the river bank near his shoes for a moment. Triumphantly, he lifted up a stone and showed it to Shao Cheng, flashing a bright smile.

Shao Cheng scowled.

“It’s a fucking rock. What kind of game is this, a showing-off-rocks game? Boring!”

Li Jun shook his head emphatically again. He brought the stone close so that Shao Cheng could get a better view, and began to point out certain features of it.

“It’s not just any stone. Look! See how it’s large and flat? And smooth, too. It will make a good base for a tower!”

Li Jun placed the stone with care — almost like it was a small bird’s egg — on a level spot on the bank near Shao Cheng’s feet. A satisfied smile spread across his gentle face.

“There! Now you can choose a stone, Cheng ge! That is how the game works; we each take turns piling stones until the tower falls over. And whoever places the stone that makes it fall, loses!”

Shao Cheng still had the traces of a dark scowl on his lips, but a glint of intrigue had entered his dark eyes. Li JUn was successfully distracting him. Acting as though he wasn’t interested, Shao Cheng began to search aimlessly for a stone by his feet. Li Jun’s warm eyes lit up with delight when he saw Shao Cheng playing along.

Apparently, Shao Cheng actually cared about finding a good stone, because he spent a long time looking. At last, he picked up a smooth one and balanced it on top of Li Jun’s.

“There,” he muttered, looking satisfied with himself. The red burlap marks on his face had begun to fade. “Now how many more until it falls? Won’t this get boring fast?”

Again, Li Jun shook his head. He already had another, very sturdy-looking stone in his delicate fingers. But before placing it on top of Shao Cheng’s, he cleared his throat.

“Before I take my turn, we should decide on the prize.”

Shao Cheng’s dark eyebrow raised questioningly. “Prize? For the winner? What kind of prize?”

Li Jun fingered his stone, brown eyes flickering between Shao Cheng’s face and the two-stone-high tower.

“I had an idea…” he said, sounding timid suddenly. “Maybe the loser can promise the winner something?”

Shao Cheng scowled again.

“That’s just lame. But I don’t have anything to give you if you win anyways, so…fine, whatever. Loser promises the winner something.”

Li Jun’s eyes lit up again, gleaming blue within brown.

“All right! Let’s keep going, then. Loser will promise the winner anything the winner asks. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And so the game continued. Shao Cheng was good at finding smooth stones to stack, but it seemed Li Jun had much more experience. It was important not just to find a good stone, but also to stack ones’ stone very carefully, balancing the weight on the round surface of the stone below. It was clear that both Shao Cheng and Li Jun were exceptionally competitive; they both focused on the game so completely that anyone watching would have thought they were competing for a thousand golden coins.

At last, the tower had reached an utterly crooked point. Amazingly, it was now taller than both of the sitting boys, who had to rise to their knees to place stones properly.

As it was Shao Cheng’s turn, the pale boy went crawling all around the river bank to find a stone small enough and smooth enough to have a chance of balancing on that teetering structure. His jaw clenched and brow furrowed with frustration as he searched, crawled and searched some more.

There were hardly any smooth stones left! He and Li Jun had used all of them up!

Feeling irritated, Shao Cheng settled on a small stone that was slightly crooked, but smooth enough. For almost a whole minute, he stood hunched over the tower, trying again and again to place the stone without making the tower sway. Clenching his jaw in concentration, he at last lowered it, careful not to touch the stones below with even his fingertips.

The tower swayed. It wobbled.

…And it steadied.

Shao Cheng had succeeded!

Looking extremely satisfied with himself, Shao Cheng went to sit cross-legged by Li Jun, who looked disappointed.

“Ha!” Shao Cheng taunted, elbowing Li Jun in the ribs. “You thought I would lose, but don’t you know me, Ah Jun? I never lose when it’s one on one, and if I do, it’s always when the rules are unfair! Try beating that!”

With a dejected look, Li Jun went to place a stone atop the trembling tower. As soon as he lowered it, the whole thing shook, then leaned like a reed in a fierce wind, and finally toppled over, dozens of smooth stones clattering to the river bank like hail and rolling down into the river.

Shao Cheng sprang to his feet, grinning.

“Ha!” he shouted, pointing at Li Jun and doing a little dance of victory. “I win! I win! Now you have to promise me whatever I want, Ah Jun! I could make you do anything!”

Li Jun stood staring crestfallenly at the rubble of the tower surrounding his own feet while Shao Cheng continued to celebrate his victory by dancing around Li Jun wildly.

He poked Li Jun in the back, dark eyes shining with glee.

“Ah Jun!” he exclaimed. “I want you to promise me that you’ll do whatever I say for the rest of your life!”

“But — that’s too long, gege!”

“Haha! I know, I’m just joking. Promise me you’ll just give me a piggyback ride whenever I need it! Even if I’m just tired, not hurt, promise you’ll carry me!”

Li Jun pouted, a residue of disappointment still hanging in his eyes. “Okay, gege. I’ll give you a piggy back whenever you want. But why don’t you ask for something you can’t get normally?”

Shao Cheng was still hopping from foot to foot. He had scooped up a few pebbles from the tower and was flipping them through the air with ease. It seemed winning games gave him an explosion of joy.

“What d’you mean, Ah Jun? What other kind of thing can I ask for? I’m not the kind of person who asks for a hug or something, is that what you want me to ask for? Why do you always want to give me a hug, anyway? You’re not a girl!”

Li Jun’s cheeks turned pink.

“Haha, you’re funny, Ah Jun! You were right, that was a fun game. Come on, let’s go to the Shin cottage! Minyeo noona’s been sleeping for two days even though she’s healing. Maybe she’ll finally be awake now. Carry me on your back, Ah Jun!”