29 Qui, 3281 CE – Zhosian

Palden stalked through the candle-lit room, playing with the leather crop in his right hand, occasionally slapping it down onto his left palm with a loud smack that stung slightly. The boy in the meditative pose in the middle of the room sat murmuring to himself, completely oblivious to Palden’s presence. Palden decided that had to change.

“Look out, ugly. The pain’s a coming.”

The boy either didn’t hear or ignored Palden’s warning. He simply sat, continuing to murmur, his eyelids closed and the muscles underneath completely still. He was shirtless, his breathing shallow and slow and his hands in his lap, completely immobile. Palden brought his circling closer to the boy, gradually encroaching until he was within whipping distance. He continued his pacing, letting his threat hang in the boy’s mental space. He’d heard Palden. Palden knew it.

A loud snap echoed across the room as Palden whipped the boy on the flat of his back, the leather instantly leaving a thick red mark where it had made contact.

Yet the boy continued, completely unfazed. The murmuring didn’t stop, nor did the calm, measured breathing.

“Oh, think your tough do ya?” Palden goaded the boy, continuing his circle. “Tough, but so very, very hideous.” With two quick motions he brought the whip down twice more, once on the shoulder, once on the lower back. Still the boy continued murmuring.

Palden grew slightly irritated. He sped up his pace, walking quicker, striking more often. He hit the boy in the chest, the arms, and built a mosaic of red lashes on the boy’s back. All the while he hurled insults at the boy.

“You keep whispering like a little bitch, I’m gonna start treating you like one. What? You want a bone? Something your ugly mug can chew on all night? Maybe you can share it with that ugly bitch mother of yours.”

There was the slightest hiccup in the boy’s chanting. Imperceptible to most, but Palden heard it. Felt it. He kept up with that line of insult, telling the boy how ugly and detestable his mother was. But the boy’s façade wouldn’t shake any further, not even with paired with more lashes across the body. Finally Palden had had enough, and as he crossed around the boy’s side – so he wouldn’t hear it coming – he brought the whip to his side and slashed it across the boy’s face.

The boy stopped murmuring. His head turned with the blow, and his face distorted into anger and surprise. He slowly opened his eyes and looked Palden in the face. For a split second he looked as if he would try and take the crop out of Palden’s hands and beat him senseless with it. But then a smile formed on the boy’s face instead.

“That wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to hit me in the face.”

Palden laughed and sat down across from the boy, looking him in the face and smiling. “Well you weren’t getting very mad when I hit you everywhere else, was I?”

“Yeah, I was doing well. That’s the whole point.”

“No, that wasn’t the point. You know what the whole point was Quan?”

“What?”

“You really are ugly. I mean hideous. You’re grotesque. The girls all say so. If they ever need to vomit, they just think of your face.”

“Screw you,” Quan laughed and lunged at his friend, reaching for the crop to take it from him.

Palden laughed and held Quan back, occasionally whipping him gently on the top of the head. They wrestled and the crop went flying into a corner. Palden was two years older and more mature physically, so he held Quan back with relative ease. Eventually he pinned Quan down in a head lock and continued berating him.

“I mean, I hate to break it to you. But no one is ever going to want to put your penis in their mouth.”

“Fuck you!” Quan tried digging his knuckles into Palden’s bones to get him to release the headlock, but Palden had been trained in the same pain resistance techniques as Quan, only for much longer.

“Your mother on the other hand, I mean…” Palden inhaled sharply, as if the thought of Lian had taken his breath away.

“You’re dead,” Quan kept driving his knuckles in until they hit bone and finally prompted Palden to release the hold.

The pair kept wrestling for a few more minutes, until there was a loud knock on the door and Lian poked her head in. The boys stopped and stood up, looking shamefaced that they’d been caught goofing around.

“My my,” Lian scolded them gently as she walked into the room. Her Zhosian was accented but clear. “You two are supposed to be the best students around here, and yet every time I see you two together, you look like a pair of newborn monkeys.”

“We were just finishing, Madam Zhao,” Palden said sheepishly, trying to avoid eye contact with the woman.

“Ok, well you’re finished now. Master Tinley wants to see you Palden. And Quan and I have some work to do of our own.”

“Of course Madam,” Palden, who was six inches taller than Lian, bowed. He was a handsome, smart, and charming young man, the star of the Tiendu Shu in Zhosian. None of which kept him from sulking his way past Lian, visibly intimdated by the woman. But once he was behind her back he turned around and made a series of rude gestures concerning various parts of her body that only Quan could see.

Quan shook his head and laughed. Lian turned to catch Palden, but he was too quick and simply nodded his way out of the room. Once he was out of the room Lian asked in Imperial, “he’s still got a crush on me?”

“I don’t think so anymore. Now he just pretends to so he can piss me off.”

“It’s not working though.”

“Not really.”

“Good.” She approached her son and embraced him. To her surprise he didn’t recoil as much as he usually did. Maybe because she’d heard Palden using her to insult him, or maybe for another reason entirely. She didn’t care. She enjoyed the embrace. She pulled away but kept her hands on his shoulders. “Are you all packed?”

“Not yet. I have a few things I need still.”

“Ok. We’re leaving as soon as morning prayers are over and we have the first meal.”

“I know.”

Lian took a long look at her son. “And what about you?”

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Quan was confused. “What about me?”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“Mom!” He flushed with embarrassment and turned away.

“You’re almost all grown up. If you were a regular kid in the Central Empire I’d have to start looking for a nice young woman to pair you off with.”

“Thank Heaven I’m not in the Central Empire then.”

“Well I know they do things differently here, but there hasn’t been anyone? Not even just, you know, a quickie out in the snow drifts in the middle of winter?”

Quan’s face hung down in embarrassment and he mumbled, “I can’t believe you’re talking about this…”

“I’m just saying, I’ve seen the way some of the girls around here look at you and Palden when you’re walking around the temple grounds.”

“You heard him with your… super ears. They’re looking at him, not me.”

Lian couldn’t tell if her son was joking or not. That realization hurt her even more than the thought that her son considered himself unattractive, so she just pursued the joke further to distract herself.

“I think you just need one good lay to be honest…”

“Damn it, mom, please, just… stop. Look! I have Mittens, ok? She’s the love of my life.”

Just then Mittens the cat walked into the dim room, spotted Quan, and howled at him.

“See?” Quan grinned at his mother. “She responds to my every need.” He knelt down and the fluffy, long-haired cat trotted over to him and pushed her face into his hand.

“She’s a good cat, I’ll give you that,” Lian responded, grinning herself.

Quan picked Mittens up, where her purr became almost as loud as her howl had just been. Lian had never met a cat that loud in her life until four years earlier, when Quan had first introduced the two of them. She watched the smile on Quan’s face brighten up and thought, Ok. A cat is good enough for now.

“Ok,” Lian admitted, “I’m going to be at home getting the last of my things ready. I’ll see you for dinner?”

“Yeah, sure,” Quan was mostly paying attention to Mittens, petting her chin and ears.

Lian smiled and left the small room in the long northern hallway of the Tiendu Shu temple. The Keepers had the whole north side of the temple to themselves and each of the rooms she passed was occupied by Keepers old and young meditating, chanting, practicing. Even after sixteen winters in this place, Lian still felt out of place amongst the Keepers and their mystic habits. For the most part the people in Zhosian were little different than in the Central Empire. A bit more pious perhaps, but for the most part they were the same farmers, herders, and craftspeople she’d known her whole life. The Keepers were something different though: a little too serious, too disciplined, too full of certainty in their purpose and position. She was fully aware her misgivings about The Keepers came mostly from their similarity to the Shuli Go.

Quan and Lian’s “home” was two small rooms in the southeast corner of the temple. Most of the monks and lay visitors to the temple lived in the city of Bhuo itself, but a small section of living quarters was kept for the eldest and most senior monks, and Quan. Lian walked through the doorless entrance to their rooms – privacy was not required between the monks – and set about confirming the bags she’d packed for their trip into the Empire were full and ready.

It was going to be a short trip – only two weeks, one week down to the towns around Daming for some trading, and then one week back to Zhosian. Even the idea of this short trip terrified her. Most of the prejudices, rage, and animosity that had accompanied the end of the Shuli Go twenty years earlier had passed, but she was, as far as she knew, the only Shuli Go to ever have a child. Quan would still be a dangerous entity in the eyes of almost any authority in the Empire, and she intended to keep him safe. And the older he grew, the more she realized keeping him in Zhosian the whole time was not the way to achieve that goal.

“Now where is that heavy coat?” She asked herself as she wandered back and forth through the rooms, searching. She found it under a disorganized pile of Quan’s other belongings. As much physical discipline and spiritual awareness as the Tiendu Shu had driven into Quan, he was still a disorganized teenager who couldn’t clean up after himself if his life depended on it. Lian never got mad at him for his clutter, even though she felt she should have. It felt like she was witnessing an important part of his life every time she found his clothes in a dirty pile or his studying scrolls in a mess on the table.

That’s probably why I’m prying so hard about a girlfriend, she thought, I missed out on so many other important moments I don’t want to miss that one.

She tidied up slightly, triple-checked the three large bundles of goods she’d agreed to sell on behalf of the Zhosians, then set about preparing their dinner. There was only a small fireplace to cook over, but she’d bought fresh vegetables and goat meat to make their last dinner in Zhosian. By the time she unwrapped the bread and pulled out their plates, the room was thick with the warm, roasted smell.

Quan walked in not ten seconds later, his timing for the preparation of food also typical of every other teenager Lian had ever known.

“Smells good,” he licked his lips. “I’m starving.”

“Of course you are,” Lian laughed, “sit down, I’ll serve it out for you.”

Quan ate quickly and Lian let him. She’d made enough for seconds, and as she poured the thick mixture of meat and vegetables onto his plate the second time, she saw his appetite had been sated enough for conversation.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” She asked, careful of her tone: she didn’t want to put him on edge or have him clam up like he had about girls earlier.

“No,” he lied before taking another bite of bread. She didn’t need her Shuli Go senses to read the lie – she was certain any mother could have done the same. “You?” He deflected.

“A little bit,” she admitted. “Not scared or anything,” she moved into lying with surprising ease, “just nervous you won’t like it down there.”

“You’re not backing out of our deal right?” The irritation in his voice grew.

“No. Of course not. I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Anything’s going to be better than another two weeks here,” he sighed.

Lian knew he was looking forward to the adventure of leaving the only home he’d ever known, but she couldn’t help read disappointment from his words too. A familiar wave of guilt swirled over her stomach, eroding the satiation of the food. His life in Zhosian wasn’t always an easy one, despite being the favored student of the Keepers, and every now and then she was reminded of how little of that life she’d been privy to. Some summers she’d only visited for a few weeks. Their relationship had suffered. It hadn’t been until three years ago that things had started to turn around between them…

“Mittens!” Quan called out after he’d started picking at the last of the food on his plate. At once the cat appeared for leftovers, waiting patiently until Quan was finished and had set his plate on the ground before diving into the food.

“You spoil that cat,” Lian tried her best at scolding.

“Yeaaaah,” Quan admitted, stroking Mittens’ long fur while she ate. “Yeah I do.”

“You going to say goodbye to Palden tonight? Or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. He’s gonna walk with us to the city gates.”

“Ok. Almost ready for bed then?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. I’m going to sleep. Clean up the dishes will you?”

“Sure mom.”

“Thanks,” she got up and watched her son watch the cat eating. “You all packed?” She asked again, knowing the answer. Just wanting the conversation to last a bit longer.

“Just a few little things.”

“Ok. Make sure you go to bed. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

He just nodded. She’d purchased as much of his attention as possible for one night.

She went into the other room, which doubled as her bedroom in the summer. It wasn’t much more than a bedroll in the corner, sandwiched between Quan’s desk and a cabinet full of clothes and his training weapons. In the summer months their two rooms were overflowing with their cumulative possessions. Even packed and ready to leave, there wasn’t much room left for personal space or movement. Lian worked her way into the corner and then lay on top of her bedroll. While the temple was cool in the summer, the bedroll was designed for the winter months and almost roasted her alive whenever she dared sleep inside it. It was hard but not uncomfortable, and she lay on top of the thick wool, listening to Quan playing with his cat and packing the last of his things.

She found it hard to fall asleep there. She’d been coming to this room and laying on top of a scratchy woolen mat for fifteen years, and she only remembered falling asleep easily for the first few. Back then Quan had slept right next to her, giddy with her very presence. His little body was so hot and he fidgeted so much in his sleep she remembered her last thought every night was “how am I ever going to fall asleep?” right before she did, easily and quietly. Just because he was there beside her.

Every night as she lay there struggling to fall asleep, she remembered those earlier nights, the memory inevitably followed by another from the other constant of those early years: his absolute destruction every time she was forced to leave in the fall. His wailing and tears, the trembling that struck his entire body when she hugged him goodbye each year. Every year like clockwork until the twelfth, when instead he stood perfectly still and told her, “I wish you weren’t my mother.”

Those memories kept her up each night. She didn’t need eight hours of sleep. Not physically. But she started trying to sleep at the same time as Quan, because by the time she actually fell asleep, she needed every minute left in the night.