Chapter Text
drip drop
A cold sensation dropped on my ear. Soon, my whole body is covered by the same cold sensation. The dry air that was here mere moments ago had vanished like a miracle.
The sound of people clapping filled my eardrums, or maybe it was the foreign sound of rain that has started pouring down. Perhaps this is a sign of a new era, one filled with life.
I couldn’t care less.
This bleak life, this wicked village, are all a mere plaything for the immortals above. What is the meaning of life, if our fates are being controlled by those above us? Why should we continue to live, if all there is to life is suffering?
My hair droops over my sight, every strand of it drenched. A low growl escapes my stomach. Yet a louder growl can be heard beside me. Perhaps the hungry dogs have gotten rejuvenated in the rain, and found the courage to start preying on humans. I can’t find it in myself to be afraid, or perhaps I am too tired to.
The growls grow louder.
The sound of their paws hitting the wet ground.
Another growl echoes in the rain.
I can’t tell if it’s from my hunger or the beast beside me.
The dogs leap to feast, yet I’m too hungry to even look at their direction.
A loud splash can be heard behind me.
A deafening crunch could be heard from the dog’s face, along with a ring of porcelain. A pristine white vase can be seen in the corner of my sight. The pristine white vase seems out of place in this run down village, but the person holding it seems even more out of place.
“Shoo! Shoo!” shouted the man.
The man’s hair was tied up, donning a pristine white robe akin to the vase. Even though he was drenched, he kept attacking the dogs that assaulted me.
He slipped on the freshly formed mud, staining his attire. The dogs have successfully been chased away. I kept looking down, out of fear for what I thought was an immortal. Maybe there really was a benevolent immortal, one who helped mortals without transactional motives. Yet I was a mere mortal, and I had to kneel before his presence. Maybe being an immortal was due to its credit.
A warm sensation drapes over my shoulder.
It was a pristine white robe.
For some reason, something filled in me that enabled me to look up to my savior’s direction, where I met his gaze.
It was a mortal.
I looked at him, a boy barely older than me, yet with a contrastingly different perception. He smiled at me. He lifted his right hand and made a gesture.
One finger on his lips, a symbol of a secret, silence, and a promise.
Unlike an immortal, he had a gaze filled with compassion and kindness.
Unlike an immortal, he did a selfless act that saved my life.
Unlike an immortal, I didn’t wish for his presence, yet he was there anyways.
The boy skipped away, happily singing a melody.
My gaze can’t help but follow his figure. An unexplainable warmth fills my body. It feels as if the world had just gotten brighter, warmer, and easier to breathe in.
In a world full of stupid humans blindly following immortals, I shall follow him, the mortal who saved me from despair.
I flipped his robe, and managed to see a text. It must be the boy’s identity, urging me to follow him.
In a world full of humans wishing to be immortals, my only wish is to be someone like him.
I wish to be a kind person who brightens up other people’s worlds.
I wish to save the world.
Soon, I deciphered the text embroidered on his robe. It was not a name, yet a place, where I would learn to be like him.
Mount Zhongnan
“And so, Lord Dark Blade returned the lamp, and broke our world from the miserable cycle!” said the storyteller.
‘What a load of bull, they left out the part where seven other people pitched in to help,’ thought Zhongli Quan.
The bustling streets of Penglai didn’t change even after the incident that happened. The storytellers were storytelling, the swindlers were swindling, and the thieves were still on the run.
“I wonder how they’re all doing,” mumbled Zhongli Quan.
The storyteller butts in, “You there! Man with glorious facial hair! You seem interested in Lord Dark Blade! Care to buy a wanted poster?”
Zhongli Quan hummed. “I’ll buy one in exchange for information,” he answered.
The storyteller seemed confused, “Information? I’m not sure a folk like me will have anything worthwhile to you, but shoot!”
“Where was this Lord Dark Blade last seen?” asked Zhongli Quan.
“Well, I heard rumors of him being seen in a village outside of Penglai, up north,” supplied the storyteller.
Zhongli Quan shrugged, “Better than nothing, how much for the poster?”
“50 Yuan.”
The storytellers were swindling, apparently.
“The heck?! What’s the poster made out of, gold!?” cried Zhongli Quan.
“Hey! I already told you my intel! Pay up old man!” shouted the storyteller.
Zhongli Quan winced at his words. He did not think he looked that old, sure he was in his late 20s, but obviously not an old man. Perhaps this storyteller was purposefully getting under his skin.
“Look! It’s raining money again!” shouted Zhongli Quan, while pointing behind the storyteller. The storyteller whipped his head around, looking for the source of interest.
Zhongli Quan quickly took one of the posters and bolted from the storyteller. Thieves are always on the run, afterall. “That man! He took my poster!” shouted the storyteller. Nobody seemed to care however, as a mere poster was probably trash. The storyteller tried his best to keep up, but in the end it was impossible for him to catch him.
After a great distance had passed, Zhongli Quan stopped in an alleyway and took a deep breath. He finally looked at the poster he grabbed.
Wu Xinchang, Lord Dark Blade
Wanted
Stealing the Liuli Lamp
I guess they pinned the blame on one person. The Jade Palace would never reveal that one of their own orchestrated the destruction, yet most of the mortals in Penglai were updated on a version of the truth. It was a different story down there though, consuming all the propagandas without questioning them.
The people of Penglai had actually seen the truth, where Wu Xinchang being a part of the eight immortals that saved them, with only Lord Dark Blade fanatics seemingly giving all the credit to him.
The people outside of Penglai however were convinced that Wu Xinchang stole the lamp for his own benefit, and the ragtag group of eight immortals had returned it.
“Shidi…” whispered Zhongli Quan.
When he learned the truth from Shifu, all he thought about was the burden that his Shidi had been carrying. That cheeky kid, he just had to plague his mind until the end. Perhaps now, it was time for him to repay his debt.
A ‘thank you’ that has never been able to be said.
“The village up north huh?”
The man who had saved him from his self-wallowing existence.
The underclassman who will follow him to the depths of the Earth, yet seemingly running away from him at the same time.
His shidi, who bears the burden of the world.
“Lü Dongbin, you better be ready.”