“Things that are done, it is needless to speak about...things that are past, it is needless to blame.” - Confucius 551-479 BC
----------------------------------------
Old man Fang hated visiting the Shadow Ruins. It was a place seemingly devoid of life, but somehow made you feel like you were always being watched. Even during the day, unnatural shadows flickered about. If Fang had been more superstitious, he would have sworn some of the shadows were moving. The older villagers called the ruins ‘kayamah al makubo’ in their dialect. Roughly translated it meant ‘place of uneasy souls.’ Fang scoffed at their superstition, but he couldn’t deny there was something uneasy about the place. If it weren’t for the Mika herbs that loved to grow near the dilapidated structures, Fang would give an arm and a leg to stay away.
Today, he had no choice. Young Wen Er had fallen sick three days ago with no signs of recovering. The village's supply of Mika herbs had ran out. As the village healer, Fang didn’t trust the village bumpkins to collect the herbs. They probably had no clue how to distinguish the herb from common weeds. No, such tasks were better left to himself.
As the only educated individual in the village, Fang harbored a sense of superiority. After all, in his younger days he had studied at the prestigious Tai Lin Academy in Xi Mao and had traveled somewhat extensively throughout the empire. Fang had visited places the villagers could only dream about, such as the Golden Pagodas of Emperor Tai Ming and the Crystal Waterfalls in Dong Hang. Most of the villagers had never even journeyed beyond the village’s boundaries. Towards these myopic farmers, Fang could only shake his head.
“What a nice day. Pity I must spend it all finding herbs in this god forsaken place,” Fang mumbled. He surveyed his surroundings. Decrepit stones, formations, underpasses, and half-worn walls, reminders of a golden age long gone, stretched endlessly for miles. Fang conjectured that these ruins must have been the foundation of a great city in the past.
What puzzled Fang was that there was no mention of such ruins in the academy archives. Surely a significant archaeological site would have been well known among scholars. It was for this reason Fang believed he was the first to discover the ruins. Of course, the villagers had known about the place long before he had arrived, but they didn’t count. In Fang’s eyes, discoveries were reserved for the intellectuals and scholars. Farmers, whose purpose were to toil the land, had no say in these matters.
“Another one. This must be my lucky day,” Fang thought happily as he spotted a patch of Mika herbs hiding in the shade by an abandoned well. Fang hurried over. Placing the herb basket down, he knelt to get a closer look. Despite Fang’s disgust for the villagers’ ignorance in herbology, he had to admit that even he had trouble distinguishing Mika herbs from weeds. Aside from their numerous similarities, the Mika herbs differed from weeds in only one respect. Mika leaves had lightning-shaped veins, which were difficult to identify without close inspection.
Satisfied by what he saw, Fang pulled out a dagger sheathed in leather. Careful not to cut himself or damage the plant, he slowly worked at the roots of the herb. Fang was so engrossed in the task that he failed to notice small cracks beginning to appear on the ground under him.
“Almost done,” Fang thought. Just as the last roots were cut, the ground suddenly gave way. Fang only managed a yelp before he fell into the pit along with the collapsing dirt and rocks.
When Fang regained consciousness, the first sensation he felt was a sharp pain originating from his left ankle. Luckily, he had reacted fast enough and had formed a qi barrier around himself during the fall. The thought of almost dying made Fang shudder involuntarily. Had he been any slower and had he not been a Qi Adept rank cultivator, he would have met his maker today.
"What is this place?” Fang asked no one in particular. For the first time since he woke up, Fang tried to observe his surroundings. He was most likely at the bottom of the hole, but Fang couldn’t verify since the opening above provided insufficient light. “That must have been at least a 50 meter drop,” Fang whistled.
Forcing himself up, Fang began circulating qi towards his broken ankle to accelerate the healing. If only he had paid more attention to his qi cultivation when he was younger, he would not be in this predicament. During the fall, Fang had barely conjured a qi barrier. Since his proficiency with qi manipulation was below average, Fang’s barrier was inconsistent. The barrier absorbed most of the impact from the drop, but it hadn’t been strong enough in some areas.
Fang rummaged through his pockets and pulled out an obsidian stone the size of his palm. He injected a bit of qi into the stone, causing the stone to light up. Fang thanked the gods that he had the foresight to bring a lamp stone on this trip.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“What the hell is this place?” Fang muttered a second time. When the stone lit up the area, Fang was surprised to see intricate symbols carved on the walls around him. He limped closer to one wall. “Gods, this looks like an array. Wait, what’s this? A concentric eight-sided star. I think I’ve seen this somewhere,” Fang remarked. Against his better judgment, he reached out and gently rubbed the symbol. Not a moment later, a devilish hissing sound echoed behind him.
“Who’s there?” Fang fearfully shouted, turning around as fast as his broken ankle would let him. He held the stone above his head to cast a wider reach. Fang could see flickering shadows near where the light met the darkness. Complete silence greeted him. All Fang could hear was his own furious heartbeat.
Just as he was about to dismiss the hissing as a figment of his imagination, it began anew and grew louder. The shadows at the edge of the light flickered more violently. Had Fang not seen it with his own eyes, he would not believe the shadows were encroaching into the light. The effective area illuminated by the lamp stone slowly retreated. When the radius of the light was only a meter in diameter, the shadows suddenly surged forwards and slammed Fang into the wall behind.
At the speed he was attacked, Fang had no time to react. The force of the shadows knocked the breath out of him, and his head smashed the wall, drawing blood. Fang fell onto the ground and whimpered. The earth began to fiercely shake. Gasping for breath, Fang quickly erected a qi barrier above himself to prevent getting crushed by stray rocks.
The engravings on the walls started to glow and rapidly increased in brightness. At one point, the light around him was so blinding, Fang had to close his eyes and lie there.
“If this earthquake doesn’t kill me, this array probably will,” Fang cursed silently. He thoroughly regretted not having left the Shadow Ruins sooner. In fact, earlier during the day he had already collected more than enough herbs to treat Wen Er’s illness. However, figuring he had already made such a long trip, Fang decided to collect some more.
“Greed is death’s seductive kiss,” Fang recalled a proverb from his early days at the academy. While Fang wasn’t particularly afraid of death, having already lived 70 years, his regret stemmed mostly from the fact that Wen Er urgently needed the medication only he knew how to concoct.
In the last 20 years living among the villagers, Fang had only taken one pupil, Wen Er. She was an orphan from age four, and unlike most villagers, she had an aptitude for learning and boundless curiosity. Moreover, her talents in cultivation shocked Fang. If only she had been born to a prominent family, Wen Er would have had a bright future. There were times Fang was tempted leave his place of hiding and bring the girl to a nearby academy to get accepted. Though he risked death if caught by his enemies, Fang couldn’t bear to see a flower wither among the weeds.
“Dammit!” Fang shouted, resigning himself to a bitter death. Then, as quickly as it began, the earthquake stopped. Fang dared to peek and noticed that it was no longer blindingly bright. The hissing had also stopped. Using the wall to prop himself, Fang mustered enough strength to stand. However, he was not prepared for what he saw next.
Standing a couple of meters away stood a brown-haired boy in golden silk robes. Being a former scholar, Fang had seen his fair share of extravagant clothing, but never in Fang’s expansive experience, had he seen the designs on a robe move by themselves. Indeed, standing before him was a handsome fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy whose robe sported a dragon that swam ceaselessly on the fabric.
“Wuh,” Fang uttered. He was so awestruck by the sight that he didn’t even question how the boy got there or why the earthquake and hissing had stopped.
“Greetings, sir. I’m not sure where I am. Would you kindly tell me?” the boy asked in an entrancing voice. The boy smiled, which strangely brightened the room despite the lamp stone being the only source of light.
The boy’s question brought Fang out of his trance.
“We’re somewhere below the Shadow Ruins,” explained Fang, pointing up at the opening above them. “What’s your name, and how did you get here?” Fang inquired.
Fang’s question seemed to hit the mark. The boy’s smile faded, and he stood there for a while as if lost in thought.
“It’s really strange, sir, but I can’t seem to remember. Do you know?” responded the boy after some time.
Although the boy’s sudden appearance was difficult to acknowledge, Fang couldn’t help but lower his guard. Call it what you will, but after surviving many perils, Fang had developed a sixth sense about people. The boy seemed pure and lacking ill-intent.
“I’m not sure either. There was an earthquake, lights, and hissing noises, but they’ve all stopped. Then you appeared out of nowhere,” said Fang. “And now we’re both stuck down here, and my ankle is broken,” Fang continued though he didn’t know why he was complaining to a fourteen-year-old boy.
“I see. If I have any responsibility in causing your predicament, I apologize. Since it seems we are fated to meet on this auspicious day, I do not mind being of service,” said the boy. Looking up at the opening, the boy made a determined face. “Is that the way out?” asked the boy.
Fang nodded in acknowledgement.
“Well then, perhaps I have a solution.” The boy grinned.
[Chapter End]