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A full moon above me lights my way toward Wuwang Hill. It's not a usual route I take, having little time to indulge in Liyue's sights whenever the Alcor drops its anchor in the heart of Guyun. Whenever we do stop by for provisions, it is mostly Beidou and a few members who leave for the shore, and us, the remaining crew, would be doing repairs to the ship, checking what else would be lacking to prepare onwards our journey.
After the abolition of the vision hunt decree, I decided to set sail once again, leaving my home a second time. I have thought of this, whether or not I stay, as I kneeled in front of my friend's grave.
I told him that the storms in Inazuma had quelled for now, and that thanks to him, I was able to face the Musou no Hitotachi , even if for a fleeting moment. When I searched for those who could bring your vision to life once more, I never imagined I would be worthy of it. Sometimes, it only takes one spark to ignite a flame, and it is you who made me believe that I could make a difference. With that inch close to the divine throne, would you have seen your ambition come to reality in my eyes? I offered a small prayer for his soul, a custom that lifted my heart a little, even in my absence of absolute belief in such things.
Our nation’s victory has given me much to think about. Good things . And I find myself musing my time away as I take in the scenery in the land of contracts. I've heard a tale about Wuwang, how it is full of mysteries, and how life seems to be a step closer to death if you turn the wrong way. But tonight, it is quiet, and the bright glow of the silver moon only brings peace to my soul.
grass bathed in moonglow
swaying in a melody:
iridescent song
I close my eyes, hearing the winds turn the leaves over. Such gentleness, this rustling seems to be. That is, until…
The silence breaks out in an echo of steel. Before my blade rests a crimson rod stained with black waves that resembled smoke, almost like the tailend of a wandering spirit (as I have seen many a time in old books, not that I have actually laid eyes on one). A weapon, no doubt, however…
"The wolf does not howl nor bare its teeth," Her voice rings like a bell. "With sharpened claws, a sword unsheathed.”
A wolf? The scent of sandalwood drifts in the air. Just when I thought this place was deserted, I came face to face with a young woman, her eyes reminiscent of the thunder sakura. For a moment, I’m taken aback by the sheer amusement in her expression, because who, in their sense of propriety would go assaulting someone in the dead of the night.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Perhaps noticing my unwarranted hostility, she draws back quickly, still the smile on her face unashamed. An odd one, this girl, but since I could sense no imminent danger in this strange encounter, I loosen my grip on my sword.
“To block my blade like this, it's not too common an occurrence. Still, it's dangerous to be sneaking on people like that."
“I wasn’t planning to. You were just too quick to hear me coming. Pretty impressive, by the way.”
By the time she finished speaking, I’ve put my sword away.
“I’ve spent a great deal outdoors. I can easily tell when something’s not right.”
“Not that, silly. I meant your poetry.”
I stare at her, remembering the first words she told me. “ The wolf does not howl nor bare its teeth, with sharpened claws, a sword unsheathed.” A narration of events, huh? And it pretty much fits what I did just now. A quiet retaliation.
“..Oh, that…”
“Yes, yes, actually that’s why I came over. I heard you talking to the moon.”
So this girl, she thought of it at the spur of the moment?
“The structure is very straightforward. I’m more into narratives but personification is something I enjoy. And oh, I recognize this pattern. 5-7-5, a haiku, is it not? Ah, the sweet words bearing the cyclical nature of the world...”
Hearing her, I can’t help but smile to myself. It’s not too often that I find someone who shares my interest, and least of all expect to find it in Wuwang Hill. I asked for her name and I gave her mine, introductions spun in silkened verses, impressions woven a word after another. There is always a profound delight in shared enthusiasm, and in my case (while I know the whole ship has an appreciation for what I do), it has been a while since the last.
“So what are you doing in Wuwang Hill?”
“I’m not quite sure myself. I just felt the wind taking me over the hilltop.”
She looked at me with a dark kind of smugness, the mischief shining in her eyes. I’ve known Hu Tao for a few minutes, but it seems that perhaps what people dread to see when they find themselves in this so-called uncanny place isn’t something supernatural. There are wandering spirits. There are playful ghosts. There are creatures of the otherworld lurking in the dark. Despite my lack of terrifying experiences of the realm beyond the living, I know these to be true. But perhaps, in Wuwang, the most unimaginable thing you’ll ever come across is a young woman, as impish as she is genial, walking through the night adorned by scarlet butterflies.