They ate their morning meal in the main dining room, egg fried rice and cold venison. Sunlight was glorious to see after days of rain, and it bathed the room with warmth and light. Meijing, Right-Eye, and Yao Hu sat clustered together, murmuring as they sipped their tea. Only Right-Eye had spared her half a glance and a small smile as they'd entered.
Buzhi hadn't seemed interested in joining them, for which she'd been grateful. Pia watched as he picked all the carrots from his fried rice, scowling at each piece as if they'd gravely offended him. Only once each was free of the rice did he begin to eat. Pia chewed the last of her cold venison, chasing it down with the remnants of her tea.
Using the ring of water left by her teacup, she traced lines across the table as she waited for him to finish eating. Her ears strained towards the other three in the room, but she heard nothing.
Meijing and Yao Hu left before Buzhi finished eating, and she discretely watched them go. In the doorway, Meijing ducked to avoid hitting his head. He struck a powerful sight, tall and broad, dressed in his official blue and white robes. Beside him, Yao Hu looked especially tiny.
"Bright day," Right-Eye rumbled, coming to join them.
"Brightest of days to you, too," Buzhi returned to him, not looking up from his meal.
Right-Eye ignored him turning his attention to Pia instead.
"Today, leave?" he asked.
With the sunlight, Pia saw his face more clearly. Though his eye was missing, no scar across his eye spoke of a fight. The skin was unmarred, save for that sunken space, as if whatever had taken his eye had plucked it right from the socket. She avoided looking at it, meeting his good brown eye instead.
"Yes, after our meal," she said, looking to Buzhi for confirmation.
"No need to ask me—I’m clearly only the honor guard,” Buzhi said, putting his hand to his chest in mock hurt.
"Glad you know," she said, grinning when he rolled his eyes.
A low, rumble of laughter came from Right-Eye’s throat. He clearly enjoyed laughing at Buzhi’s expense.
"I come," he stated without asking.
Surprised, Pia's eyes went straight to Buzhi, curious what he thought of that. She was surprised to see a look of annoyance cross his features. What was his problem? She thought. Yet, as quickly as it'd come, it passed, and he slapped on a smile.
"Oh, why not? The more the merrier," he said, waving his hand as if it hadn’t bothered him. She frowned, feeling he wasn’t as uncaring as he acted.
Right-Eye nodded as if it hadn't mattered what Buzhi said. He was going to follow them anyway.
"You clean," Right-Eye said to Buzhi as he pointed at the plates, then gently grabbed Pia's arm, saying, "Come."
As he led her away, Pia looked over her shoulder and chuckled at Buzhi's unhappy expression.
Right-Eye led her out into the yard and into the stable. As soon as he saw her, Tudou nickered to her. Going to him, she let him rub his head against her chest, hugging his broad jaw. In the next stall, Shuai slept, his eyes closed and hip cocked.
Right-Eye went to a stall further down the aisle, and she pondered over what kind of horse he had as she groomed Tudou. After days in the rain and mud, he'd gathered a small patch of rain fever on his legs. Little scabs peeled off under her fingers, leaving pale skin exposed. Rising, she went to her saddle and pulled out a pot of salve, applying it generously to each spot.
After she finished, she went to Shuai, inspecting his legs and finding spots as well. Grabbing the brush she'd used on Tudou, she brushed him down thoroughly and then applied the salve to each spot he'd had.
Returning to her saddle, she put the pot away and then tacked Tudou up. When she reached for her bridle, Pia stopped in surprise. It was gone. The small peg that had held it was empty. Going to Buzhi's area, she found only his equipment for Shuai. Her bridle had vanished.
Immediately, she thought back to Jiayi, and scowled. Had he taken it to mess with her? Irritation prickled at her, and even the scent of horse and the earthy sweetness of hay couldn't soothe it away.
Spinning, she went back to Shuai and began to tack him up, putting her sudden restless energy to use. He flicked his ears at her as if he could send the bubbling emotions within her. His tail swished, catching her in the arm. Not once, not twice, but three times. Finally, she looked up, saw him giving her a grumpy side-eye and laughed, irritation dissipating.
“You’re the perfect match for Buzhi,” she told him, thinking of both horse and man’s peculiar moods. Once he was tacked, she hung his bridle on the saddle and wandered down the aisle to find Right-Eye.
Peeking over the top of the stall, she saw him finishing saddling a bay gelding. The horse was on the shorter side, but broad with muscle. He had a long, rounded nose and a thick jaw. Its mane was cut short, leaving it standing straight up from his neck. The gelding’s eyes were half-lidded as he snoozed away.
"What's his name?" she asked as Right-Eye tightened his girth.
He said a word she didn't understand. It sounded a lot like 'shunzren.'
"What does it mean?"
She stepped away from the entrance as he led the gelding from the stall. The horse's feet were big and sturdy, and his muscles rippled as he moved. He wasn't a beautiful horse but an impressively powerful creature.
"It means…" he started, then paused, lips twisting as he thought it over. "Slow, big rock?"
The two shared a grin at the fitting name.
Moving to the horse’s head, she offered him her hand to sniff. His lower lip hung slightly, and he lipped at her hand as if looking for food. When he found nothing, a heavy sigh puffed out his sides.
She patted his head as an apology.
"Right-Eye, my bridle's gone. I think someone might've taken it," Pia told him, looking up at him. Her irritation had gone, leaving her feeling more weary than anything.
Right-Eye let out a sudden 'oh!' then spun around and marched to the back of the stable. Shunzren and Pia shared bewildered looks until Right-Eye came back carrying a basket.
"For you," he said, holding it out. "Gift."
Taking it from him, Pia looked inside and gaped in astonishment.
Laying at the bottom of the basket was an exquisite red leather bridle, complete with a painted face shield. The face shield depicted a fiery phoenix, talons extended as if ready to strike. It was painted in dazzling reds, oranges, yellows, greens, and blues. She picked it up, running her fingers across the soft and supple texture. Multi-colored beads, yellow, orange, and red, hung on the corners of the headpiece. They were wooden yet as smooth to the touch as leather.
A folded piece of paper fell out, and she stooped to catch it. Unfolding it, she read: "Please accept this as both an apology for my rudeness and as a welcoming gift. May you find the heart of your sword virtuous and brave. -M"
Stunned, Pia had to read the note three times to believe her eyes. Meijing had given her this?
"What a beauty," Buzhi said, peering over her shoulder. She tucked the note inside her belt and turned to show it to him more clearly.
The leather was remarkably soft, feeling more like silk than leather. His voice held genuine admiration as he rubbed the reins between his fingers.
"This is a traditional Guibao. It was given to young tribe folk after their coming of age trial. I haven’t seen one in years.”
Her fingers traced over that fine and intricate face shield, amazed by the craftsmanship. Even more so, stunned by the gift.
"I'm not sure I'm worthy," Pia said softly, though already she loved it and could imagine it on Tudou.
Buzhi tugged the reins closer to him. "If you don't want it…"
She ducked away, clutching it to her chest. He laughed and released the reins.
"It'd be rude to refuse," she reasoned aloud.
Buzhi agreed. “Meijing doesn’t do anything in half-measures. Returning it would be insulting.”
When she slid the Guibao over his head, she sighed in admiration. The red leather on his brown fur didn't stand out as strongly as she'd hoped, but the phoenix looked fierce and real. It almost seemed as if it’d fly free from the leather and take off into the sies. Tudou yawned wide, shaking his head, and the beads jiggled.
Pia traced the outline of that savage phoenix once more, her chest swelling with a mix of gratitude and determination. After learning of Meijing's past, the gift felt extra meaningful. He'd entrusted her with a piece of his heritage. She'd do her best to live up to that honor.
When they rode away from Meijing’s house complex, she was relieved.
Right-Eye rode behind Pia as they went through the city. Muddy puddles littered the streets, and passerby's hems were brown and wet, though it did little to slow them down. The three riders paused at the intersection, cut off by a stream of people.
While they waited, Pia's eyes wandered over the town. Growing up in Dedication back in Dwelling, she'd seen plenty of disrepair. Yet, this town oozed with a sense of heaviness, as if the soul had been sheared from it. Dedication had been built with care and attention, shining in the tiny details that lingered despite how time and weather had battered away at it. Xiewu lacked that sense of care in its creation.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The buildings sagged and leaned, and many had long cracks in the wood. Roofs were badly patched, and water stains littered the walls of many shops and homes. It felt like the town had been scoured over, removing any feeling of liveliness and color. In stark contrast to the dreary, greyness of the town, strikingly vivid blue and white Guihai banners bearing white dragons hung proudly on display. New and spotless, the banners were a glaring mark of ownership on the town.
"Where’re they going?" Pia asked when the people continued to stream down the road, almost seeming endless.
"Public square," Buzhi said sourly.
"What's there?" she asked, leaning in her saddle to peer down the street. She could just make out the tail end of the crowd that was forming there.
"Should we go see?" Buzhi said, turning in his saddle and catching her eye.
Still leaning forward, Pia rested her hands on Tudou's neck for balance as his sharp stare pierced her. The look in his eyes set off warning bells in her brain. Worry came over her, and she sat back in her saddle
"What's there?" she asked cautiously.
"No go," Right-Eye said solemnly from her other side.
He looked past her, meeting Buzhi's eyes. The two seemed to glare at one another for a long heartbeat.
Shrugging his shoulders, Buzhi looked away first. "She should see. It’s a life experience, after all.”
"What’re you talking about?" Pia demanded, exasperated at them talking over her.
"There’s a public display of power this morning," Buzhi finally said. "Meijing is overseeing the punishment of a criminal who stole food for his starving family.” The way he spoke said exactly what he thought of the situation.
Wishing she'd not pushed for an answer, Pia wilted in her seat, face paling.
"I want to see," she half-whispered. She didn’t want to see, but part of her wanted to witness it, to be able to understand some of the life the people suffered.
Right-Eye sighed loudly, but when Buzhi eased Shuai into the crowd, sticking near the side of the road to avoid trampling any feet, he followed Pia.
Pia, Right-Eye, and Buzhi lined their horses at the back of the crowd, sandwiching close together as people still poured into the square, filling it with bodies. The center of the square was lined with soldiers, creating a barrier between the citizens and the officials holding the 'criminal.'
The criminal was an old man, dressed only in a tagged, once white underrobe. Despite his haggard clothing, the man had taken care with his appearance. His face was clean, and his hair was braided and tied back. Wooden bars locked his arms in front of him. An official holding a golden scroll cleared his throat and bellowed out the words:
"By the Mandate of Heaven, His Majesty, the Son of Heaven, issues this proclamation:
It has come to the Emperor's attention that thievery has plagued the people of Xiewu. Such vile actions, causing suffering and strife, have greatly disrupted the harmony of the people. Upon hearing that one of these criminals has been apprehended, the Emperor issues this decree!
The sinner, Fu Yinfei of Xiewu, has committed a grave offense against the people. Stealing food meant to sustain all the people during this hard time has deprived countless hungry mouths and shown blatant disregard for the welfare of others. Such selfishness undermines the harmony and trust upon which our great alliance is built.
Let it be known that the sinner, Fu Yinfei, shall be punished according to the laws of Siji. The offender is hereby sentenced to fifty lashes with the whip, to be carried out in the public square under the supervision of the local magistrate. This punishment shall stand as a warning to all: the needs of the many outweigh the greed of the few!
By this decree, let justice be swift, and may this act restore the balance and order ordained by Heaven.
So it is commanded, so it shall be done."
Meijing stood stiff as a statue as the official rolled the scroll up and then handed it to him with a deep bow. There was a long pause where Meijing stared at the scroll with a blank expression. Finally, he accepted it, and the guard beside him offered him the official box to place it in.
Tudou shifted beneath Pia as her body tightened as the moment stretched on. Cold sweat beaded on Pia's forehead and her hand fell to her sword as the captain of the guard handed a thick, knotted whip to Meijing. Two guards turned Fu Yinfei around, presenting his back to Meijing.
She wanted to leap from Tudou’s back and strike them all down. This was wrong! Fifty lashes for stealing food to survive?
Meijing accepted the whip. With a flick of his wrist it uncoiled, hitting the ground with a thud that sounded as loud as a crack in the silence on the square.
Pia’s eyes scanned the crowd, wondering why no one protested. Yet, all she saw were resigned faces with weary expressions. There was some anger and sorrow, she saw it in sucked-in cheeks and furrowed brows, but mostly she saw bleak acceptance.
In the crowd, her eyes fell on the familiar figure of Yao Hu, standing straight as a board, arms tight across her chest. She stood behind the guards, eyes locked on Meijing. The scar on her face twisted her features as she glowered at the proceedings. It was clear she was furious, but she too watched on.
Pia shifted in her saddle; hand tight around her sword hilt. A hand landed on her bicep, squeezing tightly. Her head spun; angry words were ready to spill from her lips. Right-Eye's gaze was kind as he said, "No."
Stinging tears sprang to her eyes as the first crack ripped through the square. His grip tightened on her arm, comforting. Crack, crack, crack. She forced herself to look back and watch, teeth digging deep into the skin of her cheek. On the tenth strike, Fu Yinfei let out a hoarse cry and collapsed to his knees.
Buzhi and Right-Eye were silent and still, jaws locked as they watched the scene. Pia blinked her tears away, refusing to cry when the man being punished was being so stoic.
The crowd shifted uneasily when the twentieth blow sent Fu Yinfei to hands and knees. He shook uncontrollably, and his white robe was cut from the whip, his back a mess of bleeding lines. Spit and blood fell from his lips as he let out loud, guttural gasps.
Fear gripped her. They weren't even halfway through the punishment. Would they continue? The man looked halfway to death’s gate already.
"Let's go," Buzhi said, breaking her attention from the sight.
Pia shook her head, mute from horror and sorrow. She didn't want to watch anymore, but it felt worse to leave as if being there was a way of offering silent support. But Buzhi didn't take no for an answer. Reaching out, he grabbed Tudou's bridle and tugged him to follow Shuai.
Right-Eye shoved his way beside her, blocking her view of the square. His lips were pressed tight, his face dark with anger. The cracking sound of the whip seemed to ring in their ears long after they'd left the town. The sun shined down, bright and cheerful, and Pia hated it.
Both Buzhi and Right-Eye remained deathly silent, and she was glad for it. It took a long time of biting her cheek and blinking rapidly for the tears to cease springing to her eyes. When the road stretched flat and straight ahead of them, Pia finally couldn’t take it anymore.
She stated, “I’m running for a bit,” dismounted, and took off at a brisk jog. She’d had a feeling they might protest, so she’d tied her reins to the saddle ahead of time.
On foot, her feet ate up the ground, and her muscles instantly protested. It’d been days since she ran on foot and her body reminded her of this. Her lungs and calves burned with licks of fire, but Pia welcomed it. Craved it. She needed something physical to hurt. It gave her an outlet for the rage and sorrow burrowing their way into her heart. The pounding of her heart and the slapping of her boots on the ground filled her ears with sounds other than the cracking of the whip.
On she ran, until the road curved. Looking back, she could just barely see Right-Eye and Buzhi. Turning around, she bolted back to them at full speed. It felt like no time had passed at all when she reached them again.
Sliding back onto Tudou’s back, she panted, trying to catch her breath.
“Better?” Right-Eye asked her kindly.
She nodded, though it was mostly a lie.
Tudou’s ears pinned at her, annoyed that she’d left him behind. She rubbed his neck in apology, whispering promises not to do it again. More lies, though they fell easily from her lips.
Buzhi pointed them southwest, and even the knowledge that they’d soon see the Guiyan close-up couldn’t raise her mood. Her mind was weighed down with heaviness. It felt like she’d never be able to smile again.
That night they camped off the main path, in a meadow rich with spring grass, fed by one of the many streams that wandered through the land. Buzhi set up his sleeping cocoon while she groomed the horses, treating their legs for rain fever. Right-Eye prepped a campfire, and then disappeared to hunt.
He returned with two pheasants just as Pia turned the horses free to graze.
“Pia,” Buzhi called to her. He stood off to the side, holding his Threaded Dagger, twirling it idly around.
“Come practice,” he said.
Crossing her arms, she remained right where she was, remembering his fight with Zhe Mian. He chuckled at her expression and pulled the dagger end to him.
“Not against me,” he said, holding out his weapon. “With this.”
A bit more intrigued, she crossed the distance between them and took it from him. The rope was surprisingly coarse and the end much heavier than the one she’d practiced with before.
“I’m not very good with these,” she admitted, giving the end a hesitant twirl.
“That’s why we practice,” he said, jogging a few feet away to a nearby tree stump.
With very little effort he used a duplication rune on a jug and set up three side by side.
“Rather than focusing on the movement, I want you to focus on the water inside these,” he said. “Think of the dagger as a needle and the rope as thread. The water is fabric. Guide the thread through the needle, pierce the fabric.”
The analogy he used was interesting and she frowned in concentration, thinking. She pulled the dagger back toward her and shortened her length of rope. Once it was about half the length of rope to the dagger, Pia began to swing it.
Immediately her hopes of transferring that analogy to practice disappeared. The vibration of the rope was jarring and made it hard to control the flow of the blade. When the blade began to wobble on the arc, rather than glide, she pulled it back toward her, flipping away.
The dagger shot back behind her and the rope went taut. Quickly she spun again, adding a wiggle into the motion with her hand, and curled her foot down into the rope as it looped low. It slid against her boot, but the movement steadied the wobble and the dagger sliced out straight, heading towards the stump. It struck the bark just in front of one of the jugs.
“Well, you’re not going to be a seamstress,” Buzhi teased from the side.
She tugged at the metal within the blade, and it pulled free. Resetting, she tried again. Then again.
Finally, on the fourth try, she managed to hit the top of the jar, rattling it side to side. Buzhi clapped slowly.
“Never stitch me up, but at least you’re getting close to the wound.”
Pia was just glad she hadn’t sliced herself so far. Right-Eye had wandered over and stood observing. While she pulled the dagger back to her once more, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Not needle,” he said. “Arrow.”
Oh great, Pia thought darkly. Another weapon she’d never gotten very good at. Her muscles ached from the exercise, and she was surprised to realize she was feeling much better. The blood in her body pumped eagerly, rushing through her veins like fire on dry wood. Even her exhaustion was quelled by the exercise.
An arrow. A needle. Neither of those analogies helped her. The problem was that she couldn’t get her body to move as quickly as the rope needed for her to be able to get the dagger where it was supposed to go. It felt like trying to thread a needle while shooting an arrow at the same time.
That thought quivered through her mind like a foal on new legs. She was thinking about it all wrong. It was impossible to do both at the same time. She had to do one at a time.
Grabbing the dagger, Pia tossed it far out behind her, holding only the end. Speed wasn’t her strength. With her left hand, she drew a talisman, while her right held the rope. She slapped her hands together and then began to swing the rope once more.
This time, she didn’t think about the jugs. Instead, she focused on the feel of the wind as it kicked up around her. The way that the metal sang with high notes as it sliced through the air. The rope was like a thick root trying to wriggle against the wind.
She pulled the rope toward her as she spun into a kick, wrapping the excess rope around her. Bringing up an arm, she let the rope curl under her elbow and arc upward. Twirling in the opposite direction, she unwound the rope, using the momentum to launch the dagger back behind her. It flew backwards as she flipped forward, her right hand still holding tightly to the end. When the weight of the dagger stretched the rope into a straight line, she yanked it with all her strength. It reversed direction and flew back toward her. Just before it came even with her body, she pivoted on her left foot and launched a kick toward the end of the dagger. It connected and forced the dagger to fly straight and true.
It pierced the center of the right pot, shattering it. She’d been aiming for the middle, but she grinned proudly, nonetheless.
Buzhi clapped again, wincing.
“That was like watching a blind woman embroider!” he teased, completely oblivious to the one-eyed man he was standing beside.
“Good,” Right-Eye said, giving Pia a nod, completely ignoring Buzhi's tactlessness.
She grinned at him, feeling flushed with accomplishment. All her negative thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, forgotten for now.