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Chapter Text

Lán WàngJī was the last cultivator on the mountains that were once called GūSū Lán. The only caretaker, almost a father of eleven ragged and hungry children, he did not want wealth, nor did he want to exchange the small cabin he lived in with his family for a well-built house. Although, yes, his children for years had only one dream. And this great illusion was that of being able to eat a large quantity of pheasant and without any of them remaining the slightest bit hungry.

They never managed to fill their stomachs until they were satisfied. On the contrary, they always felt close to dying of hunger. Despite this, every day of the year, not counting Sundays and holidays, he had to leave his home before nightfall to go to the forest, from which he returned at dawn with his dirty sword and a Gǔqín that became increasingly worn out. Those instruments represented a whole night of hard work, which was only rewarded with two coins... and sometimes for less, after all, they were hard times, almost no one had more.

Only during the rainy season, when there was practically no competition, and even better on designated days, such as the Mid-Autumn Festival, when the demand for protection was greatest from lantern makers and bakers, who baked all kinds of mooncakes, he managed to get up to three coins for his work as a cultivator.

Three coins constituted a fortune for his family, although in very distant times that would have meant nothing in the Lán sect. Now he, more markedly than his children, gave the impression that he was going to faint from hunger, after all his core had a limit and had long ago given up on forcing it to keep his body healthy.

When Lán WàngJī arrived home at dawn, he would place his instruments in a corner, with a sigh revealing his exhaustion. Staggering, stumbling, he reached the interior of the cabin and without making a sound he fell onto a primitive chair that one of the children quickly brought to the table, equally rough, on which Lán WàngJī spoke to them in a raspy voice:

-What's to eat today, children?-

The older ones responded amid the high-pitched voices of their little siblings, who also wanted to participate:
-Rice, radishes, steamed bread, salt and tea.-

Dinner was always the same, without any variation.
He knew the answer of his protégés long before arriving home and he asked the question simply to say something and so that his children would not consider him as a stranger who only put money on their table.

When the food appeared, served in rough wooden cups and plates, he had already fallen fast asleep, so JǐngYi had to wake him up by saying:

-HánGuāng-Jūn, the food is on the table.-

-Let's give thanks for one more day of food- he muttered, and immediately began to eat.

He had not taken the first bites when he realized that all his protégés were watching him in the hope that he would not eat too much and leave something so that they could repeat, since his ration was always insufficient.
Then he stopped eating and concentrated on drinking tea.

As soon as he emptied the cup, he murmured in a calm voice:
-You can eat-

-HánGuāng-Jūn, if at least once in our lives we could eat pheasant until we were full, we would die happy and rest in peace until the day of Judgment.-

-Don't talk while eating JǐngYi-

Often it was not just JǐngYi who begged and other voices would also start murmuring different versions of:
-Please, to any deity; Grant this family, even just once, enough meat to fill us up so that our tummies don't hurt!

So many times he had heard his little ones lament that he no longer paid much attention to them, considering it as a form of routine after dinner, after all most of them did not even know what it was to eat meat, they had only seen it from a distance for their visits to the town. He knew that the same chances that his childs would enjoy such a large meal were those that existed that he would possess a thousand taels of silver, even if they had prayed all their lives for it.

His protégés, the most faithful and selfless children that anyone could ask for, deserved to be able to eat calmly and sufficiently without having those hungry eyes again, wanting every last grain of rice on their plate. This distressed him, for he had good reason to consider them good children, with qualities he could not even dream of finding in others.

The little ones never fought and were always very obedient. They worked as much as a child could, and only one day a week he used to reserve two cents to buy a single piece of candy that he asked for from an old woman who always gave him one larger than he could afford, which they divided precariously between everyone, always reserving some leftovers for Lán WàngJī.

Realizing what excellent little ones they were, how hard his short life had already been, how hard they worked to help their family a little, and how much they loved and protected each other, including himself, the man began to save every last cent of the few he earned during the day washing clothes and doing heavy work for other people in the town, who had greater opportunities than them.

After saving his pennies for three long years, which seemed like an eternity, he was able to get the 3 fattest pheasants he found on the market. In the past he could have hunted whatever he wanted, however he could not hunt them, not because of the ancient rules written on the stone that lay in the middle of the mountain completely destroyed, but because of the Wēn, who controlled any supply of meat and the price for getting your own was too high.

Bursting with joy and satisfaction, he took them to an area in the middle of the forest when the children were absent and hid them in such a way that no one could discover them. He didn't say a single word when he arrived home that morning burned out, exhausted, hungry and, as always, listening to the murmurs of children begging for meat.

That night he made the children go to bed early. He was not afraid that they would notice what he was preparing, because they always fell deeply asleep, exhausted by their daily activities and hunger. They knew that he went out hunting at night, so even if they heard him leaving they would not be scared or try to follow him.

If ever a cook prepared pheasants for a good meal putting all his love, all his skill, as well as all his good wishes, it was on that occasion. The man worked devotedly throughout the night so that the pheasants would be ready before dawn.

Lán WàngJī got up satisfied with his work, everything smelled delicious, he could even remember those banquets of yesteryear where the sects reveled in riches and luxuries, back then he could also eat whatever he wanted.

He had prepared them on that day since it was the anniversary of the occasion when he found them hidden in a distant mountain.
By that time the war had already ended and he had been the only Lán left. His home was ransacked and Wēn Ruòhán had only spared his life in an attempt to humiliate his ancestors, forcing his only heir to live practically as a beggar. He even gave him GūSū Lán, which at that time was nothing more than a charred mountain.
But he couldn't be more wrong, Lán WàngJī, despite having so many lifelong wounds, never left aside the most important teachings of his sect.
He always took the time to look for the weak and protect them regardless of the consequences that could bring to him.

Until one day he came across these 11 children, at the bottom of a cave, he couldn't leave them there. Seeing their dirty and thin faces he could only remember his little Shidi and Shimei who were once part of the Lán, of which there was no one left.

So once his decision was made, with much effort and hardship, he moved all the little ones to the mountain he once called home. The Wēn just ignored them, after all he was in charge of protecting the area that once belonged to GūSū Lán as best he could.

«Please» and «thank you» were terms that children never used; they had long since stopped believing in those words, accustomed to resigning themselves to what they had or lacked. He hoped that with the birds he was carrying, maybe they could find some happiness on such an important day.

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Having spent a long time packing all the birds with the greatest possible care, he was ready to leave for home.

He accommodated his precious cargo as best he could and with a sigh of deep satisfaction he began his long walk to the top of the mountain.
He thought that perhaps the children could go to bed after eating, and sleep until night, turning the day into a real party, the first in their lives since they could remember.

When thinking about that pheasant so well prepared and inhaling the tasty aroma of good roasting, that aroma that has no parallel among the twenty-five million known to the human race, it was inevitable to think:

“I must say that it is very pleasant to cook for those you care about, I just have never had the opportunity to try it before.”

During his youth he never saw the need to get involved in cooking, although after so many years he had learned some things, but he was not the one who normally cooked. The older children took care of that, since he was away most of the day, either resting or working in Cǎiyī. His children will surely burst with pride and feel very happy beyond all limits when they see the great effort he put into cooking these birds.

Although when he took them with him the words refused to come out of his lips as much as those of the children, as the days went by the little ones proved to be great conversationalists, who always shared their anecdotes with him and encouraged him to tell them about his past with eyes shining with amazement and admiration.

He had reached the intersection that would take him up the mountain or towards the village of Cǎiyī Zhèn. The sky was just beginning to lighten, everything felt very peaceful.

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When he took the turn that would take him up, he noticed the presence of two human feet perched barely two meters away from him.

He looked over the good quality black pants that covered high boots and found to his surprise that they belonged to a young man who was very attentively observing his slow ascent.

The boy was playing with what appeared to be a knife, richly carved from gold, and he was wearing a leather sash with beautiful buttons of the same metal and his belt was embroidered with silver and multicolored silks. His hair sported gold and jade hairpins and hanging from his ears were two beautiful solid silver earrings. At the slightest movement made by the young man while addressing Lán WàngJī, his multiple ornaments and jewelry collided and produced a joyful sound.
The boy had young and pleasant features, almost handsome. However, the canine that peeked through his crooked smile in an almost childish gesture did nothing to hide the cruelty that emanated from him. His eyes, like two incisions, were black and piercing like needles.

When Lán WàngJī looked at the stranger's face, he smiled maliciously with his thin lips revealing both fangs. No doubt the young man considered his smile to be enchanting and that no man or woman would be able to resist it.

-What do you say, young cultivator, about giving one of those succulent pheasants to this tired rider?- he asked in a metallic voice. -Look, I've ridden all night and I'm dying of hunger. How about you give me some of your lunch?-

-This isn't my lunch- Lán WàngJī corrected, gripping his basket more firmly as if he feared that the birds inside would fly away. -This solemn meal is not mine, so I cannot share it without distinction of persons.-

-I give you my beautiful pure silver earrings in exchange for only the legs of one of the birds,- the young man proposed, wetting his lips with his thin tongue, which if it had been forked would look like that of a snake.

-Your earrings are of no use to me, even if they are made of iron, steel, silver or gold encrusted with diamonds, because I have no piercings-Lán WàngJī appreciated his roast pheasants.

-Well, then I will tear off one of my golden hairpins and give it to you in exchange for the breast of one of your pheasants. What are you saying?-

-That gold ornament will not do me any favors. If the Wēn see me with a hairpin of that value, they will put me in prison and torture me and my children until I tell them where I stole it, and then they will cut off my hand as a thief.
And what will I do, a cultivator, with one less hand, when in fact I could use four if someone had been so kind as to grant them to me?-

Lán WàngJī, despising the young man's insistence, stepped aside with the intention of continuing forward, when the visitor interrupted him, saying:

-Look, young cultivator, these forests belong to me, these and all those in the region. Well, I'm willing to give them to you in exchange for half a pheasant and a handful of its stuffing. All my forests just for that.-

-You lie, stranger. These forests are not yours, they belong to the Wēn who gave them to me, otherwise I would not be able to hunt at night and provide security for the villagers.
And if they were yours and you gave them to me or gave them to me in exchange for one of my pheasants, that would not remedy my situation, because I would have to continue working as I have done for years.-

The young man insisted:
-Listen to me, good cultivator…-

-Excuse me- Lán WàngJī interrupted impatiently, -I have a long road ahead of me. Understand it well. And now go back to hell, where you came from, and leave me alone.-

The young man made a horrifying grimace, swore profanely, and cursing the world and the human race, he left.

Lán WàngJī followed him with his eyes until he had disappeared. Shaking his head, he thought:
-Who would believe that entities with that power can walk through these pure forests? In short, I couldn't do anything to stop him, maybe in other times I would have been able to, but not anymore.-

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He sighed and firmly grabbed the basket, continuing to walk carefully. Again he became aware of the presence of two feet in front of him, at exactly the same distance at which only a few minutes before the strange young man had stood.

The feet that he now saw were wearing very battered sandals, which revealed the adventures of their owner. Those feet undoubtedly belonged to a very tired man, because they seemed to sink on their arches.

Lán WàngJī looked up and saw a very sincere and pleasant face, bordered with a white ribbon in the area of ​​his forehead. The traveler was dressed in very old, but very clean, silk; His appearance was that of any peasant in the region. And yet for some reason he couldn't help but feel like he knew him.

Lán WàngJī's eyes remained fixed on the pilgrim's dark ones, as if his eyes had a magical power, and through them the cultivator discovered that in the heart of that poor man all the goodness of heaven and earth were gathered.
On several occasions over the years, Lán WàngJī had been told that his eyes were beautiful and clear as crystals, but in this man's pupils shone a small golden sun, something like an opening that invited one to look through to heaven and contemplate all its glory.

With a voice in which the notes of a distant organ seemed to be heard, the visitor said:
-Give me, good Lán, as I will give you one day.
I am hungry, very hungry, because as you can see, beloved Lán, I come from very far away. Please give me a leg of the birds you have in your hands and I will bless you for it. With that I will be able to satisfy my hunger and regain my strength, because I still have to walk a long way to get home.-

-Walker, you're a very nice man, the kindest of men I have ever known and will ever know- said Lán WàngJī with the persistent feeling that this man was someone else to him.

-Then, my good Lán, give me even half the breast of one of your birds, because without a doubt you won't need it much.-

-Oh, venerated pilgrim- Lán WàngJī said gravely, as if addressing for the first time the personage he considered the highest in the world, a celestial official, although in reality he had never seen or known one.

-If you, most reverend sir, assure that I lose nothing, I will answer you with great sorrow and with all humility, because I can find no other answer to give you, that you are wrong.
I know that I should never speak in that way to someone like you, because it is like blaspheming; However, I can't help it, I would have to speak like this even if it cost me entry to reincarnation because my rules, your voice and eyes force me to tell the truth.

You know, I can't lose even the smallest piece of these pheasants. The birds (and I ask you to understand) were cooked with the intention of ending the hunger that afflicts my family. It would leave my children dissatisfied if I gave away even a piece the size of a fingernail.

All their lives they have begged for pheasant meat, and to share it now, after having prayed all their lives to obtain it, would be to destroy the perseverance of my good children, who have sacrificed beyond belief to make my life bearable.

So Lord, I beg you to forgive me. I beg you.-

The pilgrim looked at Lán WàngJī and said:
-I understand you, Lán WàngJī, Dì di. I understand you and bless you. You can carry your pheasants in peace. I will look into your cabin and bless your children. May the blessing of heaven be with you, today, tomorrow and until your last day on earth.-

Lán WàngJī, felt a little unbalanced as if he had not been able to understand the last words of that character.

After continuing his gaze until he lost sight of the solitary pilgrim, he shook his head while feeling his wet eyes, in addition to his slight daze, and said to himself:
-I'm really sorry, he was so tired and hungry. But I couldn't do anything.
I would have insulted my little ones.
However, there was something about him that seemed very melancholic to me.-

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He firmly gripped his basket again, this time he had climbed ½ of the mountain when he once again saw a pair of feet in front of him. They were wearing old shoes and Lán WàngJī thought that the stranger must be a man from very distant lands, because he had never seen shoes like those.

Little by little he looked up until he discovered a character in whom hunger manifested itself in a frightening way.

There was no trace of flesh on his face, everything was bone, just as the legs and hands of the new visitor were only bone.
His eyes looked like two large dark holes dug into that fleshless face. The mouth was made up of two rows of strong teeth exposed by the lack of lips. His long ebony hair flowed down to his knees, tied precariously with a red ribbon.
He carried a strange black flute with a crimson tassel hanging from it.

He was covered in a reddish tunic, made of a fabric that was neither cotton, silk, wool, nor any material known to Lán WàngJī. From the belt, carelessly placed around the tunic, hung a very battered mahogany box from which emanate a strange power that Lán WàngJī could not discern as good or bad.

It was that box, which this character was carrying, that confused his ideas about who the new importunate could be.

As the stranger began to speak, he did so with a voice similar to the sound produced by the heavy collision of two pieces of wood.

-Oh, young and handsome master, I am hungry, very, very hungry.-

-There's no point in talking about it, Gōng zǐ, I see it- said Lán WàngJī without showing the slightest fear at the horrible appearance of the newcomer.

-Since you can see it, you won't doubt that I need something in my stomach, right? Don't you want to give me one of those pheasants you have in your basket? After all, someone with such a sublime appearance must have a huge and generous heart- stated the strange visitor.

Lán WàngJī, heaving a desperate and tired sigh, said:
-Well- and with a plaintive voice he added -What can I do against destiny?
Nothing.
I know what it's like to be hungry. My children have never had anything else in their lives and for years it has been the same for me.- Slowly and with a little reluctance he took out one of the largest pheasants he had, offering it to his visitor.

-Oh, Dào Zhǎng, how delightful, how pleasant you are! You are definitely not only a beauty on the outside. It makes me feel very sorry to appear with such a horrible appearance in front of someone like you- exclaimed the visitor, rubbing his hands and standing in front of Lán WàngJī so he could hold the precious bird. When he spoke he moved his rows of teeth as if he were trying to smile or grind something.
Lán WàngJī could not explain what his guest's grimace meant. It was difficult to know if he intended to show his gratitude or his joy at being saved from a certain fatal outcome caused by starvation.

-You can eat while I continue walking, I will hold what you are not eating- said Lán WàngJī as he quickly proceeded to do so, as he feared that the arrival of a third guest would mean the loss of another bird.

-Let's go- Lán WàngJī urged his unexpected guest. Who until now had not taken his strange gaze away from his face.

-Very well, walking young Lán, we have a lot ahead of us.- answered the stranger, while he extended a hand to take one of the bird's legs and began to follow Lán WàngJī.

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The stranger was a cheerful character, sprinkled with flowers of wit and juicy jokes, as well as great laughter and guffaw at any sound in response that Lán WàngJī produced.

-You…- said Lán WàngJī -What you have tied to your waist is…-

-Oh! My flute? She is very beautiful indeed, young Lan has excellent taste. If you want I can pay for your meal with a beautiful song, after all it's the least I could do to please someone so kind-

-It's not necessary- Lán WàngJī replied. -And the box... Is it new?-

-Huh? What does Lán gōng zǐ refer to? This old thing is probably older than his entire family combined hahahaha. Sorry, I know what you mean. You're asking about my old watch, right?-

-Mn. But it is very indiscreet of me... - Lán WàngJī turned his face slightly to prevent the stranger from looking at the embarrassment that his question had caused him.

-It is no indiscretion, beautiful man. There is no secret in it. And if you want you can tell the world what happened to it or even write it down in one of those boring books of yours.

You see; There was a war in a very distant place, more than a scholar like you can imagine, a place that is precisely because of its eternal wars, the part of the world where my crops are greatest, although it is not one of my favorite places, nothing compares with the beauty of Jianghú.

Well, it happened that in a certain battle I had to run from one place to another as if I were still young. I went from one place to another until I was completely exhausted and almost crazy. That's why I didn't have much time to take care of myself, don't think Gōng zǐ that I always look this terrifying, in fact I try to preserve myself as best as possible in case I meet someone as cute as you- He had been using a lilting tone in an attempt to get a reaction from the man who was a few steps ahead of him, but when he didn't get what he expected, he continued with his story.

-And it seems that an arrow, badly shot by a drunken archer from YúnMèng, crashed into my clepsydra, and damaged it in such a way that it was no longer possible for an old blacksmith friend of mine, who likes that kind of work, to repair it.

I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find a new one, because they have stopped making them and there are only some imitations that are used as decoration among other useless nonsense. I tried to get one from some rich man's private collection, but I found out to my horror that they were all imitations and there were none authentic. It is incredible that they have those large rooms that they only use to display what they have stolen from other countries or that they have taken as spoils of war from defeated peoples.

They are a total shame.- He explained with a tone of total contempt as he continued eating.

-Clepsydra?- Lán WàngJī asked, in an attempt to calm the chills that listening to this stranger speak with his mouth full caused him.

-Ah, that...! Well, I'll tell you, Lán èr gōng zǐ, it's a little old invention. They are water clocks, you put the water on one side and it begins to fall slowly on the other, you only need to check the marks to know the exact time of day. Although not to brag, but I improved it myself. That's what the outer box is for, it has lots of talismans and is now my most reliable instrument.-

He stopped talking for a while, forgetting the topic of his conversation, busy savoring a bite of white meat, while emitting what seemed to be moans of satisfaction.

After the pause, he continued:
-What were we up to, Dào Zhǎng?-

-In personal collections. In which all the clepsydras were false. Pure imitations.-

-True, it is very thoughtful of you to listen to my diatribes. So, I found myself without a good watch. But good luck came back to my side, which is a very strange occasion.

It happened that a short time later I visited a Dà jiě who was sitting in the middle of a pier not far from here, while everything around her was sinking and the rest of her people, safe in a few boats, were rowing away. That Dà jiě had been the leader of that place and like a good filial daughter, she went down with her ancestral home, saying a few last words of apology to those she could not save.

When she discovered me standing to her right she said, «Well, Gōng zǐ, it seems my time has come.» «That's right, Jiāng-fūrén» I confirmed, smiling to make the situation less difficult for her and to make her forget those she left behind.

Then she looked at her clepsydra and said, «Gōng zǐ, I only ask that you give me fifteen more seconds to say the last lines for my family.» «Granted!» I replied. And she was happy to be able to apologize to her father, who was the only one she was missing.

Then I, seeing her so happy, asked her: «Tell me, Dà jiě, would you like to give me your clepsydra?; I think you can do without it now that you don't need it at all. Throughout the journey you will undertake from now on, time will be of no importance. I ask you, because you must know that my clepsydra was destroyed by the arrow of a Jiāng cultivator and I think it is fair to obtain a YúnMèng clepsydra in exchange for it.»

-That doesn't sound like a very old story- Lán WàngJī interrupted.

-Well, no,- said his companion, smiling with his bare teeth. -The truth is that you and I know that this story is not as old as we would like, but that is unimportant. What did I end up with?-

-In which you asked Jiang-fūrén for his clepsydra.-

-Correct. Well, and so when I asked her to give me that beautiful watch, she explained to me: «Wow, you couldn't ask me for anything better, since this clepsydra is my private property and I can do with it whatever I please, it was a gift from my husband that was passed from generation to generation. If it belonged to my ancestral home I would be forced to deny it this very useful companion. It is perfectly adjusted. Just a few days before this catastrophe, I had it repaired, and I assure you that you can have complete confidence in that precious machine, a hundred times greater confidence than you could have in your old clepsydra.»
I immediately took this fine device and left the pier, which was already completely covered by water and fire.

Well, that's how I came to get hold of the clepsydra, forgetting mine from other times. And I have to tell you, Lán èr gōng zǐ, that this YúnMèng device worked very well, but there was still room for improvement. So I got to work and carved loads of runes so that their space was reduced to this handy little box, and it was even more precise than before and I didn't need to fill it. It works so perfectly that since I have had it I have not been late for any of my appointments. It's one of my best inventions if I may say so, beautiful Lán!

While before, more than one subject, for whom the coffin had already been prepared, escaped me. And escaping like that is bad business for everyone and especially for me, because with that my reputation is tarnished, I cannot allow those kinds of rumors to spread because I would have a lot of problems. Thank goodness it will never happen to me again, proof of this is being here with you today.

It's my destiny.-

So the stranger continued with his monologue, joking and laughing non-stop. Simply listening to it gave Lán WàngJī a feeling of joy and tranquility like he had never experienced before, even before the war, as if they were old friends who met after not seeing each other for a long time.
The ease the stranger had with his words, in anyone else he would have found annoying and overwhelming. But on him it seemed natural and correct.
On the other hand, the stranger did not force him to speak or participate in his conversations, everything flowed very naturally and easily.

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No doubt Lán WàngJī's guest liked the pheasant, for he had endless praise for the good man who had cooked it so well, claiming that it was his best meal in centuries and that there had never been hands as blessed as Lán WàngJī's. From time to time he would be fascinated by the charm of that excellent meal and would try to moisten his absent lips with a tongue that he did not have, while he stared at Lán WàngJī with what should be his eyes and adjusted his hair with a gesture that could be considered shy.

Lán WàngJī, however, knew how to interpret that gesture and understood from it that his companion was satisfied and felt happy in his own way.

-Before I arrived in your radiant presence, you had two other visitors, right Lán èr gōng zǐ?- he asked during the course of their conversation.

-Mn. How do you know, Gōng zǐ?-

-Ha, of course I have to know everything that happens in the world. Because you must know, Lán WàngJī, that in a way, I am the boss of the… of… of… well, a man as versed as you know what I mean, because the fact is that I am not allowed to mention their names nor my position. Did you recognize those two visitors?

-Mn, you mentioned it yourself. It is inevitable that I recognize them.-

His guest continued after a laugh:
-Of course, a man as perceptive as you, it was obvious that could not be fooled.
First was the one who causes so many difficulties for you mortals, the Lord of Death, although in my opinion it is not an appropriate title for that bastard, after all it is a punishment for his crimes not something to gloat about.-

-Mn- Lán WàngJī nodded convinced -Seeing through his disguise was easy. It was not difficult to notice that he was an imposter.-

-Why, then, knowing who he was, didn't you give him a piece of your pheasant? You know that he can cause you a lot of damage, after all he is a spiteful idiot who practically killed thousands of people because of his stupid little finger.-

-He was clearly rich, he had a lot of money, he even had it sewn into his clothes. If he had wanted, he could have bought not one pheasant, but a dozen roasted pheasants and two roasted pigs at the first inn on the road.
That's why he didn't need a leg or a single wing of my pheasant.-

-You are very smart, your gaze as a cultivator is clearly well trained and it is very easy for you to distinguish evil beings, it is a pity that you do not use it to look at me a little more... The second visitor was... well, you know Who am I referring to? You recognized him, right?-

On this occasion Lán WàngJī took a little longer to respond as if he were meditating on his answer, before answering:
-Mn, a God.
I was very sorry to deny him a piece, because he was clearly very hungry and desperately needed some food.
But who am I, poor mortal, to honor myself by giving a God a piece of my unworthy food? In the heavenly court they own the entire world and can own all the existing birds.

Numerous stories have been written of Gods and deities who feed two fish and five pieces of bread to five thousand hungry people in a single afternoon. With power like that he can easily feed himself with a delicate blade of grass. I consider it a great sin to give him any of my pheasants.

Who am I, a poor cultivator with eleven children to feed, to humiliate a God by making him accept a bit of roast pheasant from my hands? It would be a great offense to a high being.

These birds were never meant to belong to me from the beginning. It would be a great offense to the ironclad pleas of my children not to fulfill them when the object of their greatest desire is in my hands.-

-What a philosophy, young master- said the stranger. -I can assure you that you have an extremely healthy mind and that your brain works perfectly when it comes to protecting what belongs to your people, definitely an unmatched man in body and soul.-

-This one appreciates your compliments, Gōng zǐ- said Lán WàngJī.

-Aiya, I'm just telling you the truth, I'm not flattering you with empty words and don't think that I'm going around giving compliments, although an appearance like yours really deserves to be celebrated, it's a shame that you don't have access to better food, I bet that in your best times you were a being that rivaled the beauty of the Jade Emperor, although I am no one to judge you with this body hahaha.
The only thing that intrigues me now is your attitude towards me - said the visitor, cleaning the bone of a wing with his strong teeth.

-What I mean is that... well, why did he give me one of your pheasants when only a few minutes before you had denied even a wing to the Lord of death and a messenger God from the heavens?
Normally I am a very attractive man that, when combining that virtue with my charming character, would have been enough reasons to understand the cause for your decision. But even I, with my not inconsiderable self-esteem, am able to see that right now I look like a being from the underworld. To tell the truth, being in your presence with this appearance is a little embarrassing - he explained while scratching the back of his neck and taking a few small jumps in such a way that he was facing Lán WàngJī while he continued walking with his back turned.

-Frivolous- Lán WàngJī murmured, underlining that statement with a discreet gesture as he moved his head.

-It's different, there are two reasons. I’m human and I know what hunger is and what it is to feel like dying of need. It's known that you have no power to create or transform anything.
You’re nothing more than an obedient servant of a higher force. You also don't have money to buy anything, because you don't even have pockets in your suit or carry any bags with you.

There is something about you that feels familiar and it is very obvious that you have a greater need than any member of my family. I have never before witnessed a level of hardship like the one you present.-

-Come on, young master, come on. You’re making me blush, or well, if I could blush I would be- said the guest, making visible efforts to smile with the lips he didn't have -Don't give the matter Lán èr gōng zǐ so much thought. You are indeed very ingenious. But tell me the truth, don't be afraid to hurt me, I have a very strong heart that has only hardened after years in this job. You said, when you began to speak, that you had shared with me for two reasons. Now tell me, which one is the other one?-

-Mn, Gōng zǐ- Lán WàngJī agreed -As soon as I saw you I understood that I didn't have time to deliver food for my little ones and that I would have to abandon my entire basket. When you appear, time is up. So, I thought: «As long as he eats, I will climb the mountain», and that is why you have eaten a pheasant.-

Chapter Text

The guest looked at his host with surprise reflected in the deep sockets left by his eyes, smiled and then burst into an extravagant laugh, making a noise similar to that produced by the beating of a cane on a barrel.

-By the great Jade Emperor, Gōng zǐ, how clever you are! I don't remember having found another smarter or more exquisite person in a long time and who knew how to dodge their last hour so skillfully. You weren't even afraid of me! Cultivators like you are truly fearsome, you deserve that I select you to provide a certain service, don't worry, I know from your face that you are imagining indecent things, but you should know that I am a righteous being.

It's just service that will make my solitary existence less boring from time to time.
You must know, Gōng zǐ, that I once liked to play tricks on men, even when I was still among mortals I was widely known for my playful nature. Jokes that don't hurt anyone and that amuse me, making my work less monotonous, and it wouldn't hurt to enjoy such a charming view to lift my spirits, you understand? - he explained while slowly looking at Lán WàngJī.

-I think so.-

-Do you know what I'm going to do to compensate you fairly for the excellent food and company you've so generously offered me?-

-Excuse me, but I can't be an assistant. Whatever else you want, fine; but I can't abandon my children.-

-I don't need helpers and I never had them, I am quite energetic although it doesn't seem like it now. No, it's about something different.
I will make you a doctor, a great doctor just like Qing-Daifu. Capable of overshadowing all those knowing doctors and surgeons who so often play unpleasant tricks on me with the idea of ​​ridiculing me. And I promise you that I will reward you for your pheasant and your company a million times over.-

When he finished speaking, he turned off the path, took a few steps, looked at the ground, black and full of leaves at that time of year, and said:
-Lán èr gōng zǐ, lend me your bottle; Yes, that bottle made of bamboo, but first throw away the water that is in it.-

Lán WàngJī obeyed and approached where the visitor was waiting for him. He stamped his foot about seven times on the ground and remained still for a few minutes while murmuring apologies to someone he called Qing-Jie, after which a stream of crystalline water gushed out of the wet black earth.

-Give me your bottle- the stranger asked. As he took it, he briefly touched Lán WàngJī's fingers and laughed softly. He approached the stream of water and filled Lán WàngJī's container, an operation that took some time, because the nozzle of the bottle was very narrow. So he took the opportunity to look at the beauty of his companion from the ground.

When it was full, the visitor knelt down, struck the earth with one hand and made the water disappear.

Then he said:
-Let's get back on track, Gōng zǐ after all it is very difficult for me to separate myself from such sweet company, so I plan to enjoy every moment that is granted to me for today.-

Once again they continued to ascend, Lán WàngJī knowing that there were only a few steps left before the entrance to his house was visible. The stranger handed Lán WàngJī the bottle.
-This liquid, Lán WàngJī, will make you the most notable doctor of the century. A single drop will be enough to cure any disease, and if I say any disease I mean those considered incurable, fatal.
But you must understand Gōng zǐ, once the last drop has been used up, you won't be able to get even one more even if you beg me with your beautiful face, so the healing power you have will be gone forever.-

Chapter Text

Lán WàngJī had not been in the least impressed by this great gift and hesitated before taking it.

-I don't know if I’m worthy of accepting this, I am happy in my own way. It is true that my family suffers from hunger, that I always feel tired and that I have had to constantly fight to support my children. But that happens to all of us who survived after the war.
We accept this life, because it was the one it was given, and we try to find happiness in our own way, because we always seek the goodness of something cruel and in which there is apparently no hope.

The pheasant you just ate was the greatest ambition of my children's lives. I have never had personal desires, but theirs never went beyond a roast pheasant with all its seasonings to eat until full, in peace, without having to count every last bite.-

-But now you have to do without one of your birds, that way the greatest ambition of your babies Lán will probably not be fulfilled and that is a real shame. After all, you worked hard and surely the children raised by you are just as good.-

-But you know well, Gōng zǐ, that I couldn't choose, when it came to you- Lán WàngJī replied with a slight tone of mockery.

His guest smiled back with all his splendor, or at least tried to, admitting:
-Maybe you are right, beautiful Lán, and maybe you are not. But now I won't tell you about the path you should have taken, because both could have turned out the same. But it is the fact that you have invited me to share one of your pheasants, after denying a piece of it to two other such important people, that makes me judge you as an extremely clever and kind-hearted man, deserving of a new chance.-

After thinking about it for a minute, Lán WàngJī said:
-If this pleases you and you also believe that you should compensate me for the food, I will take the water with me.
It will help me one day if one of my children gets sick and I can't find a way to heal them.-

-Perfectly thought out and well said, a man of wise decisions.

Just don't forget that, like all things in life, once you start you'll have to keep going. There will be no way to go back.
Well, when you cure the first sick person, others will arrive who will want to be cured too.

You should use only one drop at a time. You will be harassed by those who suffer and will not be able to refuse.
I know the world; It has been the same since I was entrusted with the work I do. Nothing has changed and will never change regarding the attitude of mortals.
Take good care of the gift I give you.-

Lán WàngJī listened carefully to all the warnings.

His companion continued speaking:
-Something else, Lán èr gōng zǐ: remember that this medicine is compensation for the pheasant you gave me. Soon your children will ask for more birds. Because their wishes have not yet been satisfied. And if you want to buy another one without waiting several more years, you will have to cure someone to get the money necessary to buy it.-

-I hadn't thought about it- Lán WàngJī admitted.

-Of course, but then they will also want other things. All mortals want to try and do many things before leaving this world.

Now another thing, Gōng zǐ; listen to me well. Wherever you are called to care for a patient, I will be there too. No one but you will be able to see me, let's just say I haven't had enough of your company yet, so this will be an added benefit for me.

When you see me standing at the foot of your patient's bed, concentrate on putting a drop of the medicine into a glass of water, have your patient drink it and before two days have passed they will have completely recovered.
But if you see me standing at the patient's bedside, do not take the trouble to use the medicine, because my presence in that place will be a sign that the patient must die, regardless of the efforts that you or many skilled doctors make to take them away from me. In that case, do not use the medicine I have given you, because you would only waste it.

It must be clearly realized that the divine power with which I am invested, that is, the power to choose those who are to leave this world, while the scoundrels or the very old are still to remain in it, is not transferable to any human being susceptible to error or corruption and as much as it pains me to admit it, seeing how admirable you are up close, you are still a mortal.

Therefore, the final decision in each case must remain in my hands, and you will have to abide by and respect it.-

-I will not forget it, Gōng zǐ- answered Lán WàngJī.

-Yes, you better always remember, I am looking forward to our next meeting, perhaps by then I will have recovered my original appearance and you will understand that I can also rival your beauty a little.
And now, unfortunately I have to say goodbye.
The food was excellent, exquisite, I would say. I have to admit that I had a wonderful time in your company and I can't wait to see you again. The pheasant you have given me will restore my strength and beauty for another hundred years.
I hope that when I feel the urgency again that I had now, I will once again find a host as generous and half as beautiful as you.

Thank you very much, Gōng zǐ. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Bye bye!

Chapter Text

That afternoon he returned home with the pheasants he had left over.

All the children were happy and ate like never before, they showered their father with praise and gratitude amidst tears and screams.
Lán WàngJī realized that every moment of sacrifice had been worth it if he could see their faces so bright. He didn't touch anything of the birds, content to see them so festive.

Unfortunately, he did not have a penny for food the next day, since he had not gone hunting the night before in order to accompany his children, who begged him to stay and sleep with them. He did not reproach them for their laziness; At that moment he was invaded by a charming feeling, and it would also be the second night in a row that he would not sleep, he had not even been able to take his naps during the day and he was totally exhausted.

All of his children had narrated in the middle of their meal that when they woke up that morning a strange golden ray, which apparently did not come from the sun, had penetrated their bodies, and at the same time they had heard within their hearts the sweet notes of a song coming from very far away.
From that moment on, they felt as if they were walking suspended in space and they could not remember ever having enjoyed such tranquility and they were sure that for that specific day was going to be the best of their lives, they had not been wrong.

He did not communicate anything about what was happening to his protégés; He kept it for himself as a sacred property, after all the situation still had him reflecting in the middle of his nightly thoughts.

Before going to bed that night, later than usual, A-Yuàn asked him timidly:

-Bǎ bá can we eat pheasant again?-

-Why do you ask that A-Yuàn? Didn't you have enough?-

A-Yuàn did not respond and for a moment he only heard the snoring and breathing of the rest of his children. He thought he had fallen asleep like the rest until he heard his soft voice:

-I would have liked a little more-

The next day the family would suffer from hunger.
Breakfast, including Lán WàngJī's, was as usual, extremely frugal. That morning they had to reduce it even more so that it would be enough for two more meals.

Lán WàngJī quickly finished his mouthful of rice, before taking Bìchén and WàngJī to head into the forest on the cloudy morning.

Judging by the natural way in which he went about his hard work, he seemed to have forgotten medicine and all the events to which it was linked.

He had barely taken a few steps when Zizhēn called him and said:
-Ā diē, your bottle is still full of water. Should I throw it away and put a new one in?- he asked while playing with the cap.

-Mn, it's still full- he admitted without fearing for a moment that his son would act hastily by throwing away the precious liquid. -Yesterday I drank at home. Give me the bottle as it is.-

On the way to the forest and a fair distance from his house, he hid the bottle among the trees, burying it.

That night he returned after the biggest hunt he had gotten in many months. It was paid with three coins by one of the greatest Wēn merchants who lived in Cǎiyī Zhèn. The family felt like they were in possession of a million taels.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Lán WàngJī returned to work as usual. The night before Lán WàngJī had told how his bottle had been left in the forest (a lie). So his children quickly offered theirs as replacements until they could carve a new one.

He returned again at dawn after another good, well-paid hunt, but the family could not enjoy the good it represented because a calamity had befallen them.

His eldest son Mò Xuányǔ, with a swollen face and irritated eyes from crying, came out to meet him.

-Ā diē! A-Yuàn dies; My little brother will die, he's running out- he whimpered, bathed in tears.

He looked at him perplexed. When his son moved away, he noticed the presence of several people, some standing, others squatting, close to the place where the boy was lying.

Theirs was one of the poorest families in the town (at the command of the Wēn), but still one of the most appreciated for its honesty and modesty, and also because the majority of the inhabitants in Cǎiyī Zhèn fondly remembered the once Lán sect that protected them without asking for a payment as high as the abusive Wēn who did not even do their job.

Those people, upon learning of the illness of the son of the benevolent HánGuāng-Jūn, came to help the family, bringing with them all kinds of remedies, herbs and pieces of bark that they used in case of illness. In that town there were no doctors or medicine since the war ended.

As a result, there was no funeral home either.

Each of the people had brought a different herb, and each suggested a different means of saving the child. For long hours they had tortured the little boy with countless treatments, making him tea from roots, herbs and ground bones.

-He ate too much- said one of them when she saw the father approaching the child. -His intestines are twisted and he won't be saved.-

Another corrected:
-You are wrong, madam, it is colic.-

Another added:
-We have done everything possible, but he will not live another hour. One of our children died the same way. I know. From his face I can assure that he is ready to transcend into a new life. Poor little one!-

Without paying attention to people's comments, Lán WàngJī looked at his son, whom he loved with special affection because he was so young.
He was the smallest of all, he liked his smile and that he would sit on his lap from time to time and caress his face with the fingers of his little hands while he clumsily babbled about his most incredible adventures helping his brothers.

He often thought that the only reason he had to still endure his eventful existence lay in the fact that there was always some child around him smiling innocently and hitting his nose and cheeks with their little fists.

The child was dying, there was no doubt. The piece of mirror placed by one of the men in front of his mouth showed no traces of breath. The beating of his heart was imperceptible by the woman who put pressure with her hand on the child's chest.

The father stopped and looked at the little one, not knowing whether he should approach and touch his little face or remain where he was, or go to the other children who were gathered in a corner of their hut, as if they felt guilty for that misfortune. The poor things had not had breakfast and knew that they would not eat anything that day due to the terrible mental state in which they all found themselves.

Lán WàngJī turned around, headed for the door, and left without knowing what to do or where to go. The crowding in his house did not allow him to stay there.
He was exhausted from the hard day, so much so that he felt his knees were buckling. He automatically walked along the path that led to the forest, to find the peace he needed. When he reached the place where he had buried the bottle, he looked for the exact spot, took it out and with a speed of movement forbidden many years ago, returned to his cabin.

-Give me a cup of clean water- he ordered loudly as he opened the door.

Mò Xuányǔ rushed to fulfill his wishes as if he had been injected with new hope and in a second he was back with a cup full of water.

-Now all of you will leave the room. Get out and leave me alone with my son. I'll see what I can do.-

-It has no purpose, HánGuāng-Jūn. Can't you see he's dying? You better kneel down and pray while you breathe out- one of the people advised.

-You have heard what I said and you will- he replied harshly, thus cutting off any further protest.

They had never heard their father speak so sharply. So determined, they forced the other people to leave the room.

Lán WàngJī was left alone. He looked up and saw his guest standing on the opposite side with a smile.
He looked very different, just as he had promised. Now he was a young man who looked his same biological age, he still dressed the same, but his fleshy face was a total marvel, his eyes this time were not just eye sockets but they had beautiful and mysterious silver pupils.

He looked at Lán WàngJī before beginning to speak.
-Hello Lán WàngJī! It's nice to see you again, oops. I suppose that was not the right thing to say- he hesitated quite sadly when he saw the gloomy face of Lán WàngJī, he shrunk and slowly walked, as if he still weighed his decision, towards the child's feet, and remained there for a few seconds, while the father poured a generous dose of the medicine into the cup of water.

-No! Not so much, Lán èr gōng zǐ must remember not to waste it. And now that my verdict is auspicious, what do you think of my appearance? Today I got ready especially to see you-

Thanks to his words, Lán WàngJī remembered that the dose should not exceed one drop, a sufficient amount to cure. But it was too late, the liquid could not be returned to the bottle because it had been mixed with fresh water.

Lán WàngJī ignored his guest's provocations, lifted the child's face and forced his lifeless little mouth open and poured a little of the liquid into it, taking care not to let it go to waste.
To his delight, he noticed that once the child's mouth became moist, he began to drink voluntarily, ending up consuming all the liquid contained in the cup. As soon as the medicine had reached the stomach when the child began to breathe freely, the color slowly returned to his pale face and he moved his head in search of accommodation.

-Thank you- the father murmured with a broken voice.

-Don't even tell me! Anyway, I don't make the final decision, I was thinking... Since we'll see each other often now, I was thinking that you should use my name. I'm Wèi Yīng- he exclaimed, but seeing that Lán WàngJī was not paying attention to him, he realized that he was being inopportune. He was about to leave when he heard:

-Lán Zhàn- which caused a huge smile of satisfaction in Wèi Yīng.

The father waited a few more moments, and seeing that the boy was recovering with miraculous speed, he called his children.

One look was enough for A-Yuàn's brothers and sisters to kneel before the child shouting:
-Diē you saved him! Thank you, thank you, Holy Heaven; our little brother will live.-

Hearing the explosion, all the people who had been waiting outside rushed inside, and seeing what had happened during the father's stay with the son, they murmured and looked at Lán WàngJī as if he were a stranger they were seeing for the first time.

An hour later the entire town was gathered at Lán WàngJī's house to see with their own eyes if what the people had quickly published was true.

The child, with rosy cheeks, with his little fists pressed against his chest, lay asleep. It was clearly seen that all danger had passed.

The next night, Lán WàngJī left at the usual time, ate his frugal meal, looked for his tools, and, taciturn as ever, left his hut to go out into the villages to look for some case, while he meditated on the savior of his minor son.
He took the bottle containing the medicine with him and buried it in the same place where he had previously hidden it.

Chapter Text

He continued his usual life for six weeks, after which, one morning, returning home, he found Niè HuáiSāng waiting for him to beg him to go see his brother, who had been feeling worse for four weeks and he was dying. Niè HuáiSāng was the main merchant of Cǎiyī Zhèn and the richest man there.

After the war he is not sure how he ensured his survival while keeping his brother's vegetative body with him, perhaps because he gave up all of Qīng Hé Niè Shì and surrendered after his brother ended up seriously injured.

He explained that he had heard about the healing power of HánGuāng-Jūn and that he wanted him to try it on his brother.

-Niè HuáiSāng- They had never gotten along in the past, but since his rapid rise in Wēn Ruòhán's grace he has tried to stay away from this pair of brothers. But for the same reason he couldn't risk getting on his bad side.
Niè MíngJué had been an honorable man and a great friend of… his xiōng zhǎng.

-I need a small bottle. I will think what I can do for ChìFēng-Zūn…-

Niè HuáiSāng brought the little bottle.
-What are you going to do with that bottle, HánGuāng-Jūn?- he asked curiously.

-Go home and wait for me there. I need to see ChìFēng-Zūn to know if I can cure him or not. I will go to the field to look for some herbs that I know.-

He went out, looked for his bamboo bottle, filled the glass bottle halfway with the medicine, hid the bottle again and headed towards the Niè HuáiSāng store, located in the center of Cǎiyī Zhèn.

The man was close to death, his condition was worse than when he had his first attack during the war.

Niè HuáiSāng looked at him questioningly. Lán WàngJī asked him to leave him alone with the sick man.

Niè HuáiSāng obeyed, but not without being afraid of the possibility of losing his brother and having done everything he did for nothing, in his desperation he decided to observe through the paper on the door what Lán WàngJī was doing. He, close to the door, suddenly opened it to ask for a glass of water.
Niè HuáiSāng, with his face pressed against the door, fell face down inside the room.

-It is not a very commendable act, Niè HuáiSāng - said Lán WàngJī when he noticed what the merchant was doing -For that reason alone I should have refused to restore ChìFēng-Zūn to health. You don't deserve him and you know it.-

Niè HuáiSāng stopped on the verge of tears.
He did not understand what was happening to him, he could not explain how it was possible that the honorable and benevolent HánGuāng-Jūn was suddenly capable of healing the sick, but he needed it. It had been a long time since they had spoken, but he had never spoken to him in such harsh terms before (except for his brother), the richest and most exalted, the man whom the mayor would hardly have dared to question in those terms.

But Lán WàngJī, seeing Niè HuáiSāng standing before him, trembling at the thought of his refusing to restore his brother to health, suddenly realized that he had acquired great power and that even the dangerous Niè HuáiSāng recognized his ability to work miracles.

Niè HuáiSāng humbly asked him to excuse him for having peeped and begged him piteously to save his brother.

-How much will HánGuāng-Jūn ask for allowing my brother to stay alive?-

-I don't sell my medicine; I'm not the one who puts a price on it; It is you, Niè HuáiSāng, who must set the price. Only you know the value that your brother has for you.-

-Will twenty taels of silver be enough, HánGuāng-Jūn?-

-Is ChìFēng-Zūn worth that to you?-

-Don't take it that way, HánGuāng-Jūn. Of course he is worth more to me than any money. I will be able to acquire the money any day, but if Dà gē dies, how will I face my family? I will give you a hundred bags of taels, but please save him.-

Lán WàngJī knew Niè HuáiSāng well, too well. Both had been born and raised in Jianghú in the midst of politics and commercial dealings.

Lán WàngJī knew Niè HuáiSāng so well that he knew that once he restored his brother's health, he would try to haggle payment as much as he could.
If Lán WàngJī did not agree, they would undoubtedly have a long and bitter dispute with the most dangerous man in Cǎiyī Zhèn.

Thinking about it, he said:
-I will take the twenty taels of silver that you originally offered me.-

-Ah, HánGuāng-Jūn, thank you, thank you. I thank you, I truly thank you and not for the discount, but for your good will. I will never forget what you have done for us, I assure you.-

-He will recover his health- said Lán WàngJī, sure of his success, since he had seen Wèi Yīng in the good place greeting him effusively.

-Now bring me a glass of water- he ordered Niè HuáiSāng.

The water was brought and Lán WàngJī warned the merchant, saying:
-Don't you dare spy again, if you do I may fail and you will be the only one to blame. Leave me alone with the patient.-

On this occasion, Lán WàngJī took great care not to use more than the essential dose of the valuable liquid. And he even tried to divide a drop into two.
Through his conversation with Niè HuáiSāng he realized the incalculable value of medicine.

Lán WàngJī had the vision, he could forget about charging for his job as a cultivator (which had a limited quota thanks to the Wēn) and obtain income solely from the application of his medicine. Naturally, the quintessence of a happy future for him was the ability to keep his family well fed and clothed.

Trying to split the drop in two, Lán WàngJī turned to his companion for advice. He nodded approvingly.

-That's much better, Lán Zhàn- the young man responded happily while tossing and turning in bed, stopping every now and then in front of Lán WàngJī to carefully observe his face.

Two days later Niè MíngJué had completely recovered, so much so that you could even hear him scolding his younger brother throughout the city.
Niè HuáiSāng gave Lán WàngJī the twenty taels of silver with great joy, not only without haggling one bit, but adding a thousand thanks. He invited the whole family to his store, where everyone took as much of what they wanted as they could carry in their arms. In addition, he offered a splendid dinner, to which they were guests of honor.

Later, Lán WàngJī was able to rebuild the main house and obtain some workers to help on his plots, since Niè HuáiSāng provided him with one hundred pieces of gold at very low interest.

Well, there was another, higher interest.
Niè HuáiSāng made the loan not only out of gratitude; He was too good a businessman to give up his money without the prospect of good profits.

He realized that Lán WàngJī had a great future and that he should retain him by all means on that mountain (in case of any relapse of his brother), thus forcing people to come and consult Cǎiyī Zhèn instead of him will travel, it would represent a great investment. Confident in the city's next boom, Niè HuáiSāng added accommodation and banking to the many lines of his business.

He traded with Lán WàngJī's skill and won.

He won beyond what he had imagined. It was he who made all the necessary propaganda to focus the attention of the Jiānghú on the qualities of Lán WàngJī. Just a few letters sent to merchant friends were enough for a procession of terminally ill patients to arrive at Cǎiyī Zhèn with hopes of healing.

It was soon easy for Lán WàngJī to rebuild his entire ancestral residence to its former glory.
Their children had teachers of high caliber in the six arts and were later sent to the Imperial University.

Things were happening just as Wèi Yīng had promised him one day.
That pheasant was rewarded beyond belief.

Chapter Text

Despite his fame and wealth, Lán WàngJī remained honest and incorruptible, giving further strength to his title gained in war. Hán Guāng-Jūn.

Anyone who came seeking a cure was questioned about the value they placed on their health. Following the form that he had adopted from the beginning, it was the patient or their relatives who had to set the price of the cure.

If a poor man or woman could only offer him a few cents, or a pig, or a rooster, they enjoyed exactly the same attention as the rich, from whom he had sometimes charged up to ten thousand gold bars.

He healed men and women of the highest rank, who had crossed the ocean from Dōngyíng, Nányáng, Xīyáng and other distant regions with the sole purpose of being cured by him.

And just as he preserved his honesty regarding price, he preserved it regarding his possibilities of imparting health. If someone consulted him and he was certain that he could not do anything, based on Wèi Yīng's attitude, he did not charge at all for the consultation.

All people, without exception, accepted his final verdict without discussion. They made no attempt to argue with him once he declared his helplessness to help them.
He saved more or less half of the people who consulted him; the other part was claimed by its destiny. It often happened that for weeks on end he was not able to cure a single patient, because Wèi Yīng decided otherwise.

At the beginning of his practice he had managed to divide each drop into two, later into four and then into very small particles, using endless tricks. But despite these, and despite all the efforts he made to reduce his doses more and more, the medicine decreased at an alarming rate.
In the first month of his tenure he had emptied the contents of his bamboo bottle into perfectly sealed dark glass bottles, to prevent the liquid from escaping and evaporating through the pores of the bamboo.

The last bottle had been opened months ago and one day Lán WàngJī realized with resignation that there were at most two drops left in it, with a little sadness at the prospect of not being able to see Wèi Yīng. Consequently he decided to make it known that he would retire and would not heal anyone else.

He had grown old (mentally) and thought he had the right to spend his last years of his life peacefully, helping people who needed it through go from Jiānghú.
Furthermore, he wanted to save the last two drops of medicine for his family, whom he had already had to heal at least once each, in the last five years, occasions when the possibility of losing them had caused him to consider how unbearable it would be for him that loss.

Chapter Text

Just around those days what he had been fearing happened. The only living grandson, eight years old, of the zōng zhǔ Wēn Ruòhán, the highest personage of the Jiānghú, fell ill.

The most famous doctors were called, but none of them could do anything for the child. Everyone accepted that the illness was unknown to medical science.
Wēn Ruòhán was aware of Lán WàngJī's powers, after all he had never taken an eye off him, but due to his dignity, education and high political and social position, he considered it a vile attempt to defraud people, Even though the Lán used to have good doctors, the second Jade had never excelled in that area.

The boy's mother, however, less given to dignity when it came to her son's life, annoyed the zōng zhǔ so much with her insistence, until he finally chose to call Lán WàngJī.

Lán WàngJī did not like to travel to distant places, he rarely left Cǎiyī Zhèn except for a night hunt and when he did it was for a short time. But an order given by Wēn Ruòhán in person had to be obeyed or pay for disobedience with one's life. So he had to go.

In the presence of the zōng zhǔ, he was told what was expected of him.
The latter, not believing the miracles said to have been performed by Lán WàngJī, addressed him in the terms he would have used to speak to any servant of his sect.

-I was not the one who called you and I want this to be perfectly clear. The child's mother is the one who insisted on bringing you here to save my only grandson, who, it seems, there is no wise doctor who can cure him.

I want you to understand clearly now that, in the event that you actually cure my grandson, I will give you a quarter of my fortune and you will also have the right to ask for anything you like in the palace, no matter what it is or what value it has.
Apart from all that, I myself will issue you a license that accredits you to practice medicine anywhere in Jiānghú, with the same rights and privileges that any qualified doctor can enjoy.
To this will be added a letter with my seal, through which you will become a person with immunity to whom there will be no soldier or cultivator who can arrest you, nor unjustified criminal action that can be applied to you.

I think the reward for your services will be royal, don't you think, HánGuāng-Jūn?-

Lán WàngJī nodded, without saying a word.

The zōng zhǔ continued:
-The promises I make to you are attached to the suggestions made by the child's mother and when I promise something, I keep it, I suppose the Láns know that.

But now you must listen to my opinion: if you fail to save my only heir I will hand you over to the high court of the Jiānghú, under the charge of sorcery and for the use of Mó Dào for which you will be publicly burned alive in Qí Shān Wēn Shì.-

The zōng zhǔ stopped to spy on the impression his threat was making on Lán WàngJī. He remained inert and said nothing.

-Have you understood correctly what I told you, HánGuāng-Jūn? - the zōng zhǔ asked mockingly.

-I understand, zōng zhǔ- Lán WàngJī said briefly, making a perfect bow.

-Now, I, personally, will take you to our heir. Follow me.-

They entered the boy's room, where two healers watched helplessly, just trying to make him comfortable. The mother was not present. She was, by order of the family doctor, confined to her rooms.

The child was resting on a fine wooden bed, but without great decorations.

Lán WàngJī approached the sick kid and looked around anxiously for his old friend. He carefully felt inside his sleeve to make sure he was carrying the small glass vial that contained the last drops of the medicine that Wèi Yīng had very kindly given him.

Then he said to the zōng zhǔ:
-Would you be so kind, zōng zhǔ, as to leave the room for an hour, ordering everyone to leave it so that I can be alone with the patient?-

Wēn Ruòhán stared at him, weighing the possibility that the honorable HánGuāng-Jūn would do some harm to the boy, his only heir, when left alone with him.

When Lán WàngJī noticed the wary expression of the zōng zhǔ, he remembered the first healing he had done to someone outside his family, ChìFēng-Zūn.
Niè HuáiSāng had hesitated, like the zōng zhǔ, to leave the room when he had asked him to in order to be alone with his brother.

Those two cases were the only ones during his long practice in which he saw doubt painted on the faces of the relatives.

Lán WàngJī began to wonder if it would have any meaning in his destiny that at that moment, when he only had two drops of medicine left, another person who requested the great service expressed doubt on his face and did not trust him, who was the only one person who could lend it to him.

Chapter Text

At last he found himself alone with the child and suddenly saw the kind and serious face of Wèi Yīng appear, standing at the patient's bedside.

Every time they met, Wèi Yīng found a way to extend his visits to the maximum, telling him anecdotes and sometimes presenting him with worthless objects as gifts. Lán WàngJī considered him an old and valued friend, but nothing more, knowing that his heart's desires were impossible. Settling for the large family he had been able to successfully care for, that was the only real love he could have and access.

And yet, considering their camaraderie that might hint at something more, Lán WàngJī had never asked him for special favors.

He had never complained to any of the sick people that his partner decided to take. He had even let him take two of his grandchildren, without the slightest protest.

But this time everything was different. If he failed he would be burned alive in the public square, accused of sorcery and the use of Mó Dào.
His children, who all enjoyed a high position, would fall into disgrace due to the sentence that the Jiānghú would impose on them, which was the most infamous death that a cultivator could suffer, without the possibility of reincarnation.
GūSū Lán in all his glory, which he thought his children and grandchildren would inherit, would be confiscated as ill-gotten property, to pass into the hands of the Jiānghú in an attempt to purify his sins.

He did not mind losing a fortune that had never been of great importance to him, but what worried him above all was the happiness of his children, of whom he thought intensely at that terrible moment in his life.
His children, now young adults, good and kind, would go crazy with grief when they learned what had happened to him in Qí Shān Wēn Shì, so far from their home, feeling unable to help him or at least comfort him during the few hours that were left on earth.

And it was for his children, not for himself, that on that occasion he decided to ask Wèi Yīng to have special considerations.

Chapter Text

-Wèi Yīng, please allow me to keep this child- he begged. -I will pour the last drop of the medicine and break the bottle so that not even a wet crystal remains that could be used for another cure.

It is not for me that I ask this of you, it is for my faithful, loyal and beloved children. You know, or at least you can imagine, what it means for a family of cultivators to have one of their members burned alive in the public square. I will not take or touch the riches offered to me for curing him. I don't mind being poor again.-

His interlocutor looked at him for a long time with his silver and deep melancholic eyes. If he had a heart, he undoubtedly consulted it at those moments.
He seemed to be concentrating on deliberating with himself about that case to find the best possible solution. Without a doubt he had orders to take the boy.
He seemed unable to express his thoughts with gestures or looks, but his attitude clearly showed his desire to help Lán WàngJī. Apparently in this particular case it was impossible to find a solution that suited both.

-Lán Zhàn, you know that you are very special to me in a way that no one has ever been or will be. But, you must understand that this is not my decision.
This child is a Wēn and as such his character has already been determined, the only heir of Wēn Ruòhán who devastated all the rival sects, the one who massacred your clan and thousands of innocents.
With those angry actions he offended the will of many Gods, which is why his destiny has been determined. - Wei Wuxian explained cautiously, without taking his eyes off Lán WàngJī.

He rested his gaze on the child for a long time, as if deepening and balancing Lán WàngJī's plea against the creature's final destiny. He looked at Lán WàngJī again with compassion and deeply troubled.
He visibly shook his head with great sadness, like someone who feels powerless in this desperate situation.

He opened his mouth and with a voice that sounded like the knocking of hollow wood, he said:
-I'm sorry, Lán Zhàn, in this case I can't do anything at all to get you out of this very complicated situation.
What I can tell you is that in very rare cases I have felt as sad as I am now, believe me, Lán Zhàn.
I can't help you. I need to take this child.-

-Mn.

I cannot go against the will of the heavens nor do I want to get you into trouble Wèi Yīng. If it has been decided that it is fair for the child to die, I will not beg you anymore. - Lán WàngJī sounded very tired and resigned.

He looked around vaguely like someone coming out of a long trance, to realize that fate was weighing on him and it was useless to continue fighting.
So, letting his eyes wander around the room, he came to the bed where the child was lying and saw that he had died.

He looked at Wèi Yīng, exhausted before collapsing on the ground in a manner very undignified for a Lán.
Lán WàngJī heard a very soft and sweet voice addressing him to say:

-Once again, Lán Zhàn, I want to thank you for the pheasant that you so generously gave me and that restored my lost strength for another hundred years of tedious work. The pheasant was truly exquisite, although it was nothing compared to these years with you.

I have to tell you that despite my gratitude and my feelings towards you, it is absolutely impossible for me to help you in this distressing situation, because it is beyond my reach.

But what I can do is save you from being burned alive and publicly defamed. That is what I will do in the name of our old friendship and the honesty with which you have always acted. You received royal payment and you honored it royally.
You have lived, then, as a noble and good man.

See you soon, Lán Zhàn. I am sure that we will meet again.-

Lán WàngJī looked back, looked at his old love, standing at his bedside and with infinite gratitude closed his eyes as a small smile of satisfaction appeared on his lips, as he murmured:

-We will meet again… Wèi Yīng.-

Chapter Text

-Dì di-

-Dì di-

-Dì di, it's time to wake up-

Lán WàngJī realized that he was no longer in Wēn Ruòhán's palace, nor even in Qí Shān Wēn Shì or in the Jiānghú. Everything looked very bright and beautiful, he could breathe pure air full of tranquility that he hadn't felt in a long time.

In front of him was Lán XīChén, with his benevolent and beautiful smile, just as he remembered. At his side, Wèi Yīng seemed to be holding back from exploding, the man he had fallen in love with and had never dared to think of as his own.

-Lán Zhàn! I told you that we would meet again and that you were my destiny, right? You are so good, you helped so many and when your judgment was tested you did not waver at your response.
Everything will be rewarded Lán Zhàn Now we will stay together! - Wèi Yīng had thrown himself into his arms and each of his words was peppered with a small kiss on his face without ever touching his lips.

-Together- Lán WàngJī murmured, enraptured by the mere idea of ​​holding Wèi Yīng in his arms, of being able to keep him for eternity.
Seeing that dazzling smile and sunny eyes, he could only launch into kissing the one who had accompanied him during the last years of his life, the one who gave him the best gift and it didn't just refer to water.

The questions and answers would come, for now nothing and no one mattered more than the smiling man in his arms.

FIN