“Stand still,” Lei demanded, playfully thumping the top of Pia’s head with the paper lantern.
As Pia carefully adjusted her stance, she heard Chasu call out from behind, “It’s crooked.”
She was certain the other girl was enjoying seeing Pia wobbling around with Lei on her shoulders.
“Why don’t we switch places?” she offered, shoulders aching from holding him for so long.
Tsking over her head as he re-adjusted the lantern, Lei reminded her, “We already agreed; you’re the tallest, and I’m the lightest."
“Still crooked,” remarked Chasu, a clear tinge of humor to her voice this time.
“We are moving on!” declared Pia emphatically, gripping Lei’s legs and walking further down the planks of Lunar Haven’s porch.
Lei pulled her braids upward, holding them like reins as she walked. She pinched his outer calf.
“Stop that.”
“Neigh, I shall not!”
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, though it did make her grin.
Chasu stayed by the door, paint brush in hand. The more artistic of the three, she’d taken up drawing on all Lunar Haven’s walls. ‘Auspicious’ dragons, lions, phoenixes, and qilins now decorated most of the walls. Now, she was putting the finishing touches on a full-size door god on Lunar Haven’s main door.
Using wind yi, Lei pulled another lantern up to his height and secured it on the roof’s eaves.
The servants had decorated Cangzhi Manor for the Lunar New Year, but Pia had wanted to do Lunar Haven herself. Noni had reluctantly agreed when she’d seen the massive pile of decorations Pia had accrued. The servant girl trailed behind them, silently watching them work. Despite Noni's quiet nature, Pia felt the girl was slowly warming to her.
“How does it look, Noni?” Pia called out to her, hoping to include her in their fun.
Noni looked from the many lanterns and exuberant paintings to the tree in the front yard, now covered in a fluttering of red talisman papers, and then to Pia.
Noni cocked her head to the side in thought. “Uh, Miss, I like the lanterns. The tree…it is…unique,” she said haltingly.
Chasu laughed with glee, pointing at Pia’s tree and saying, “I told you the tree was overkill!”
“No, no. It's a custom in Dwelling to hang thousands of red talisman paper on trees for the Lunar New Year. It's for luck and protection going into the new year. If you think this is a lot, you should see those."
“Besides,” Lei cut in, tapping Pia’s head to get her to move to the next spot. “We made all these talismans and lanterns. It would’ve been a waste to not put,” he paused to tap the lantern and send it swaying, “every single one up!”
“You’ve used every speck of the extra red material the manor had,” Noni teased, shocking all three with her unexpected humor.
The three students laughed at themselves, slightly embarrassed. Their self-control had gone out the window.
Carefully, to avoid unbalancing Lei, Pia turned enough to give Noni a bashful grin. Lei tapped her head, a signal to move on, and she walked to the next spot for him to hang a lantern.
She’d started making the talisman papers and lanterns on the nights when nightmares woke her and made falling back asleep difficult. Noni had brought her a small batch of supplies to start with. After a few days, decorations formed a small pile, and Lei and Chasu took note of them during a study session. Immediately, Lei wanted in, and after a few reluctant days of pretending to not be interested, Chasu brought her paintbrushes. When they used every scrap of the supplies, Pia had gone to ask for more. Noni was right; in the end, they had used up all the extra red papers, ribbons, strings, and paint that Cangzhi Manor had left over.
When the last lantern was hung, and Chasu decided the walls were sufficiently adorned, the three gathered at the moon gate entrance and savored the sight. In the setting sun, the snow gleamed a blueish-grey, draped over the ground, lingering on the roof, and trailing along windowsills and tree branches, muting the world in a solemn, shroud of white. Against the starkness of the snow, the vibrant reds of the decorations stood out, an explosion of vibrant festivity.
Awed with their handiwork, Pia said, “It’s perfect.”
Chasu and Lei grimaced slightly.
“It’s very red,” Lei admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It looks like the Lunar New Year spirit exploded here,” Chasu said. Her eyes were locked on her drawings, which, even with a bit of distance, were eye-catching and expansive.
“Lei is correct. It’s very red,” Noni agreed when Pia turned to her and asked her opinion.
Huffing, Pia pointed at her main doors, exclaiming, “You all are focusing on the red. What stands out the most to me is that!”
“The door god does look particularly ferocious,” said Lei cautiously.
“Is he riding a lion?” Noni asked, biting her lip.
Doing a double take, Pia realized the girl was trying not to laugh. Her lips twitched, too. Chasu's art was well done, not as good as Conch’s Pia thought, but still of good quality. But the door god…was not like one she’d ever seen.
He was tall and muscular, painted in all black attire. His brows hung ominously low on his brow, and his lips were painted into a snarl. Carrying a massive black blade and riding what appeared to be a black lion, the door god was a fiercely menacing warrior.
“That’s Yingzhan, the shadow god!” Chasu said defensively. “The protector hidden in the shadows. Any door that bears his visage will let no darkness enter!”
“Yingzhan,” Pia rolled the name across her tongue. It wasn’t a god she’d heard before. Perhaps a Chean deity?
A cool breeze rippled through the courtyard, stirring the lanterns and talismans into a sway.
Gooseflesh pricked her arms, and she rubbed them. With the sun disappearing the little heat that it offered rapidly faded.
“Will you be here awhile? Should I get us tea?” she asked her friends.
Yijun and Haojie had given Pia four days off from training in preparation for the Lunar New Year. Both had checked in on her over the last two days but had quickly left. It had been hard to find her rhythm around them. Without them, her chest squeezed in loneliness. Yet, when they were around, the growing distance between them had left her feeling cold and shaky. Lei and Chasu had ended up being a reassuring constant in her life. She'd have never expected that. At all.
“No, we should go. Our meal starts at sundown, and the sun is almost fully down,” Lei said.
“What’re you doing for the meal?” asked Chasu, and though she asked Pia, her eyes were on Noni.
Noni saw the look and quickly answered, “We have prepared a traditional Lunar New Year meal for the Manor.”
What went unsaid was that Pia would likely be eating alone, on the night that was meant to be with family, Master, or sect. It was embarassing to be the odd man out. She longed for Haojie or Yijun to show up and announce they'd be joining her. It was wishful thinking, and no one came to rescue her. The silence that followed hung between the three students. The rays of light grew less and less visible, yet Lei and Chasu hesitated to leave, feeling guilty at abandoning their friend on the eve of the special day.
Forcing a grin, Pia gently punched Chasu on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t tell me you like me so much you want to stay?”
It worked, stirring up Chasu’s easily riled defense.
She spun on her heel and began to march away.
“I’m going first.”
Shaking her head, Pia strode up the path to Lunar Haven.
Before leaving, Lei called after her.
“May lucky stars shine ever on you, Pia!”
The traditional saying warmed her, and she called back, “Wishing you a thousand years ahead!”
On the porch, Noni helped Pia light the lanterns, Pia with fire yi, and Noni with a candle.
“Just the ones outside the door,” Pia told her when she saw her servant heading down the porch.
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At her questioning look, Pia said, “They’re enough for me.”
Entering Lunar Haven, Pia lit the fire brazier, moving it close to the door. She’d prepared in advance, stacking a large wood pile inside the door. After it was settled, she also pulled her table and cushions close to the door.
Noni busied herself, lighting the candles and arranging Pia’s study books into a neat pile. Seeing her linger, Pia sighed.
“Go, Noni. Celebrate with your friends. After you bring my evening meal, you don’t have to return for the dishes. I’ll take them to the kitchen.”
Noni’s eyes went wide, and she began to splutter out a refusal.
“I have my own traditional customs for Lunar New Year,” Pia said, only telling half a lie.
She pulled a small cloth bundle tied with a red ribbon from her pocket. She caught Noni’s eye and held it out with a smile.
“May you have happiness and health in the new year,” she said.
The girl’s eyes were so shocked that Pia began to doubt her gift. It was a simple good fortune amulet she’d carved out of wood. Practicing her new knowledge, Pia had etched tiny protective runes into the backside using her dagger, then painted it gold.
She closed the distance between them and pressed the gift against Noni’s middle until the girl’s hand closed around it.
“It’s not much, but I wanted to thank you for the care you’ve given me. I know it’s not always easy.”
“Miss, I can’t take this,” she said, trying to return it.
Pia stepped away with a grin.
“You don’t even know what ‘it’ is!” she teased. “Go on, Noni. Enjoy your evening.”
It seemed Noni was at a loss for what to say or do, so she bowed deeply to Pia and turned to go. In the doorway, she whispered, “Farwell to the old and welcome to the new.”
Smiling, Pia sat against her cushions by the door and looked out into her courtyard. She wished Haojie and Yijun could be with her. A thought that made her lips turn downward. She missed her Master and the days on the grasslands. The days when Haojie and Yijun were constant sources of warmth and comfort, quick and easy with smiles or laughter.
Cringing, Pia tugged at her braid. It seemed selfish to wish for them to go back to how they’d been. It irritated her that even thinking that made her wants seem more important. Sighing, Pia leaned heavily into her cushions and dozed until Noni returned with two servants, bringing her large platters of food and drink.
Traditional Chean Lunar New Year meals were similar to the ones in Dwelling. Fish soaked in sauce and grilled perfectly to melt on the tongue. A large bowl of thick egg noodles, thickly cut mushrooms, an abundance of chopped green onion, and slices of lamb. Over the noodles was a rich coating of sweetened chili oil. The last dish was a variety of dumplings: vegetable, meat, spicy, sweet, and savory. Each was delicious, spicy and sweet, rich and tangy.
So much food had been sent to her, but there was no way she could eat it all. Already, she felt stuffed to the brim. Accompanying the meal were jugs of tea and a drink that Pia was certain must be Cloud Silk. It was sweeter and creamier with thick chunks of dried fruit, and every sip flamed the heat that grew inside her.
She abandoned her cup and took the large jug of Cloud Silk up, cradling it to her chest. Pia idly drank from the jug as snowflakes fell, landing delicately atop her decorations.
What were Fewl and Conch doing then? Master Ruwe? Haojie and Yijun? She’d hoped Haojie and Yijun would come to eat with her. If she was honest with herself, it hurt that they hadn’t. Her chest tightened in pain with every beat of her heart. All her life, Lunar New Year had been spent alone. But, Fewl and Conch always made a point to meet her in their Shrine and celebrate together.
It felt like being left behind or abandoned. Thinking about her friends just soured her mood. Shaking her head, Pia refused to let those thoughts in—not today, not on the Lunar New Year.
A particularly gusty wind poured over the walls, slapping angrily at the talismans and lanterns, spiraling wildly under its assault. The door to her house clattered loudly, and the right side slammed shut.
Startled, Pia put down her jug and rose to her feet. Standing face to face with half of Yingzhan’s face, she latched the handle, keeping it from slamming anymore. Chasu’s artwork was truly well done—life-like and bold; it seemed as if Yingzhan might really step from her doorframe at any moment.
Away from the fire brazier, the cold chased her drowsiness away. Getting an idea, she went to her room and picked up her small pack. Then, Pia shut the other door to Lunar Haven and snuck out of Cangzhi Manor. Sitting around wasn’t her style; she needed to do something.
The sounds of voices carried on the breeze as the people celebrated the Lunar New Year. Every street was lined with lit lanterns, creating a soft glow no matter where she looked. Compared to the last time Cangzhi had been decorated, it felt lively and joyous. Celebrating the ending of one year and the beginning of the next was a time meant for close friends and family. Alone on the street, Pia held mixed feelings. She loved the sights, but they only fueled her sense of isolation. It left her feeling twice as jittery as if the yi within her wanted to be let free.
Pia stopped in the stables to give Tudou three apples in celebration. She spent time combing through his mane and whispering her heartaches into his big, fuzzy ear. On her way down the hall, she paused. Backtracked. Froze.
Ransa and Wine’s stalls were empty. Where could they have gone? If it was the New Year, she’d suspect them to be doing work for the sect…but on the New Year? Mind reeling, she walked as if in a daze. Out the stable, down the main path, sticking to the shadows where possible.
Doubt and fear filled her heart. Surely, they wouldn’t have left her behind? Without telling her? Her mind said no, but her heart was drowning in worry.
Out of habit, Pia found her way to the training area. It was blissfully dark and empty. The only sound came from the wind and her feet breaking through the crispy top layers of the deeply packed snow. Walking without purpose, using only the moon to guide her steps, she wandered past the Demon Pillars and archery targets, through the grove of trees, and beyond the flat, riding meadow.
She missed the deep forests of Divine Ascent, that feeling of being lost within nature, surrounded by the playful, rich aura that tugged at her soul. Cangzhi was massive, but it felt totally controlled. All parts had a function and a purpose, and everything was strategically placed and maintained. Divine Ascent had felt like a chaotic, wild animal that bowed its head and allowed her entry to its domain. Cangzhi felt like a placid lake, surrounded by encroaching men.
Her foot caught on a particularly hard, crusted section of snow, and she fell forward into it. Both arms sank deep into the snow, scraping harshly against the icy rough edges. Coldness quickly sank into her knees where they’d been buried. Pushing herself up, Pia rubbed at her arms, feeling little droplets of blood. Irritated, she stood and rubbed her robes against her arms, cleaning the blood free.
The spot where she’d fallen was surrounded by trees. All other plants and greenery were covered fully by snow. Now that Pia had paused, she could see that undisturbed snow stretched before her, smoothed flat and even from the drifting wind.
It was as good a spot as any. Crouching, Pia slipped her bag from her back and unrolled it. She took a tall bowl, a drawstring pouch of sand, and a wooden incense cylinder from inside. It’d been some time since she’d conducted this ritual, but she remembered it well. Packing the bowl with the sand from her pouch, she placed it on the snow before her. Next, she lit three sticks of incense and stuck them inside. Scooting back a little, Pia clasped her hands and bowed three times before her makeshift Shrine.
The familiar act soothed her. The scent of osmanthus filled the air, bringing her back to Dwelling, laughing with Conch and teasing Fewl. The memories swam through her mind—racing up the mountain with Conch, tricking Fewl into catching fish in a stream and the one that brought her the most comfort: creating their sigil mark together. Rolling up her sleeve, Pia’s fingers traced over the koi and the orchid at the crook of her arm. They were apart, but they would always have a reminder of each other. The worries and aches of her heart drifted up with the smoke, carried away for the moment. Pia lost herself in the memories, a small smile on her lips.
From the corner of her eyes, she almost felt she could see the fluttering blue of Fewl's robes. She frowned at that thought. Had Fewl had blue robes? Her mind felt fuzzy and distant. Struggling to open her eyes, she didn't even remember closing them, everything seemed blurry and far away. A light buzzing sound echoed in her ears. She tried to shake her head, but it lulled heavily on her neck.
Loud, cracking footsteps caused her to startle, eyes snapping open. Had she fallen asleep? It felt as if she'd just risen from a sleeping state, drowsy and confused. Pia clutched her fiercely aching chest and trembled. What was that feeling? One second she'd been sitting there, the next she'd felt felt smothered by drowsiness. Unnerved, Pia's ears latched onto the crisp footsteps coming near. Heart jumping with hope, she turned her head, hoping to see Haojie or Yijun.
It was neither.
Propped against a tree, holding a black sheathed sword curled into his chest, stood a man dressed all in black. In the darkness, all she could make out was the gleam of his dark eyes. Suddenly aware of how alone and far from people she was, Pia curled into herself protectively. Her eyes locked onto him, narrow and assessing.
“Who are you praying to?” he asked in a low, demanding voice that sent a wary shiver across her spine.
“Who’re you?” she asked with surprise. She’d never seen the man before and hardly even heard him draw near.
Pushing off the tree, the man approached her makeshift Shrine. Pinching his fingers, he flicked a single black rune down onto her bowl. It had no glow or feeling of yi, but it settled onto the bowl like any other rune might.
“I asked first,” the man said.
“I wasn’t praying to anyone; I was thinking about memories.”
Sighing heavily, the man said, “Ah. That explains it. Not very smart.”
Bristling, Pia asked, “No one was around. I wasn’t disturbing anyone.”
“Only the dead,” the man said dryly.
Confused, Pia turned to try and catch a look at the man, but his back was to her.
“Who are you?” she tried again.
“Lang Tao.”
It told her nothing, which was about par with everything in Cangzhi.
“What did you mean I was disturbing the dead? I wasn’t being disrespectful.”
The man pointed down at her Shrine, “No border protection. Out in the middle of nowhere. On the day when Heaven, Hell, Earth, and the Abyss touch paths. Again, not smart.”
She digested that, then asked, “The four realms touch on the Lunar New Year?”
The man let out a heartfelt sigh.
“Either children are increasingly daft or the quality of education in Xieya has decreased significantly. You know nothing about death rituals, yet you are out here like a lighting beacon.”
A lighting beacon? What did that mean?
“I was only offering incense to the past,” she defended.
“Ah, but with no direction. As I said, the four realms are touching. You didn’t protect your Shrine. You’d think with shaman blood in you that you’d have more sense.”
Stunned, Pia whispered, “Shaman blood?”
She had Shaman blood? Surely the man was wrong. How would he even know something like that? Even Pia knew nothing about her parents' histories. Nothing had been left with her when she'd been found abandoned on the outskirts of Dwelling. Only a note that said, "Parents died in the war. No family." Not even a name had been left for her. Pia's lips turned into a deep frown.
At her question, the man turned to look at her. His face was set in a deep frown. He had thick brows, straight features, hard eyes, and a thin-lipped mouth. His hair was held with a simple leather crown. There was nothing exceptionally remarkable about the man. He was average in appearance, but his presence was very intimidating. Perhaps it was that he was dressed all in black and shadows seemed to cling to him. In the darkness of the forest, even the moon's light didn't seem able to penetrate his formidable aura.
“Fools,” he said harshly, shaking his head in disgust.
Something in his gaze made her cringe away. It was as if he saw right through her, into the fabric of her being.
Lang Tao grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet.
“Go back to the main part of Cangzhi. You should not be out here,” he demanded, pushing her back the way she’d come.
“My things—” she started to say, but he took a threatening step towards her, and she scuttled away nervously.
“Go!” He ordered sternly, pointing away. “And don’t be conducting anymore solo memorial rituals.”
She hesitated, looking back at that scowling face, and he sent a spray of stinging snow at her. It pelted her face and arms with an icy, burning sensation. Yelping, Pia turned and ran back to the main part of Cangzhi, her heart racing only slightly slower than her mind.