夜不閉戶
yè bù bì hù
At night no need to shut the door.
Law and order prevail, society is stable.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I heard the bandits coming even before I heard Kageyama.

There were two of them, and I could tell by their clumsy steps that they were untrained and unsure of what they were doing.

As I bent down for more water, I found a stone, small enough to be easy to wield but big enough to bash in someone's head, and placed it within easy reach by my foot. Then I stood and dumped more water over my hair.

The bandits didn't worry me. Their aim was clear. Kageyama did. He didn't strike me as the kind to peep on women bathing for the fun of it, which meant he suspected something.

Oh well, I had nothing to hide, not with my rings on at least. I recalled his words to me some days before. "I don't know what you want here girl, but I can assure you, you won't get it." Hah, same to you, Kageyama Sho.

To be honest, I enjoyed the feel of his eyes on me. I had always been a bit of an exhibitionist in my true form, and though my human form was far inferior, I saw no reason to stop. I could understand why humans wore clothes, to protect their soft, flimsy skin from the elements, but I could never understand the shame they attached to their own naked bodies. Weak, pink little things that they were, if they didn't value themselves, then who the hell would?

I made sure he saw my body, back and front. I could taste his embarrassment when he realized I didn't have a seal or any lingering mu'ren traits and was, to all appearances, human. I turned away from his hiding spot, chuckling to myself.

That was when I noticed the tall skinny man who had appeared by the riverside, bow cocked and trained on me. My eyes traveled down his body, and I quickly noticed that wasn't the only thing that was cocked.

"G- give me all your coin," the man stuttered, face bright red, eyes flashing from my body to the forest around us, then back to me as he remembered he was supposed to be threatening me.

I decided, with Kageyama so close by, this was a perfect opportunity to assert myself as a weak, harmless human woman. I gave a screech and clamped my hands across my chest, twisting my body in on itself to hide from the man's eyes.

"Please," I begged, "I don't have anything of value. Just my clothes."

"What-what about th-those rings?" The skinny bandit asked, nudging his arrow towards the hands clasped across my breasts. The bow shook worryingly in his hands and his face got redder.

I gave a distressed cry. "No, not my rings! They're for my health. I can't take them off. Please don't hurt me or do anything....untoward," as I said this I turned myself to the side, so the curves of my body were on display. The man gulped audibly. I laughed so hard inwardly my soul hurt.

"Just, just come out of there and pull your clothes up- on," he said. I obeyed, the clear water of the stream dragging against my ankles as I walked. I came closer to the bank. The man backed away as though it was I who threatened him. He really wasn't the most capable bandit.

As I stepped onto the bank Kageyama Sho appeared, hands raised, from behind the fallen trunk. A wizened little hermit of a man half his height trained his bow on Kageyama's back, instructing him to stand beside me and place his hands on his head and stay still. Kageyama did as he was told. His eyes were fixed like a statue on the canopy above him to avoid my body, my gaze, anything to do with me.

I had never seen him, or possibly any man, look so mortified.

"Oh my, Kageyama-sensei, what are you doing here? Did you come to save me?" I asked as breathlessly as I could.

"Just put your damned clothes on," he said, still staring upwards. I complied, if only to hide my laughter.

"And you," the old man said, pointing at Kageyama with his bow. "Take off your boots-" His eyes ran up and down Kageyama's frame one more time. "And your shirt and belt. Slowly."

Glancing at the second bandit, who still had his trembling bow pointed at me, Kageyama began to undress. "How come she gets to keep her clothes," he grumbled, unbuckling his belt and throwing it to the ground before bending over and starting to unlace his boots.

Because, I thought, my clothes, rough linen patched at the elbows and knees many times over, were not worth the effort it would take to try and sell them. The older bandit had a good eye. I had been envying Kageyama's soft leather boots all week.

Barefoot and grumbling, Kageyama straightened up and started to pull his shirt over his head- and lurched forward, throwing the shirt onto the old man's face to block his vision. The skinny bandit yelped as in three swift strides Kageyama reached him, grabbed his bow and forced it upward at the foliage, away from my direction.

How considerate of him.

A knife appeared in Kageyama's left hand which he held it to the skinny bandit's throat. I realized he must have taken it from his boot earlier when he removed them.

All this happened in the time it took the old man to untangle Kageyama's shirt and throw it to the ground. He raised his bow in Kageyama's direction and froze.

The old bandit's eyes, barely perceivable glints beneath his bushy grey eyebrows, widened when he saw Kageyama's knife pressed to the other bandit's throat, and then widened even further when he saw the characters written across the side of Kageyama's abdomen. As I read what was written there, my eyes did the same.

In spring I sleep oblivious of dawn,
Echoing everywhere the sound of birdsong.
Last night the howl of wind and rain came,
Waking, I wonder how many flowers fell?

I felt a pang of nostalgia as I read the familiar words. Lu's prayer.

I had known instinctively Kageyama Sho was mu'ren, from the first moment I saw him beneath the red lanterns that night in Nan'ye. There weren't any definite signs, but I had grown experienced in reading a person's history from the lines of their face, and at seeing their soul through their eyes.

What I hadn't been able to tell was what kind of mu'ren Kageyama was, nor his age, nor capabilities. Reading the Green King's seal brushed across his stomach, I realized I had severely underestimated him.

Such a seal would only be given to the strongest, oldest, most powerful mu'ren. Had I seen it sooner, I might have taken his many threats and displeased grunts in my direction a little more seriously.

"You, you're one of the Green King's mu'ren..." The older bandit muttered, voicing what I was thinking. The younger bandit gulped nervously, his constricting throat brushing against Kageyama's blade.

The older bandit's hands shook, but then he steadied them and swung his bow to me. I tried my best to look frightened. "Let him go, or I'll pin cushion your girl."

Kageyama looked like he wanted to protest at me being called 'his girl' but restrained himself. "How about instead you put down your weapon and come with me quietly to the nearest magistrate, and your friend will continue to have only one mouth." Like his words, Kageyama's knife at the skinny bandit's throat was steady.

"Magistrate? Why would I?" The old man drew his bow tighter as he spoke. "I haven't committed a crime...yet." Despite the fact he was threatening to shoot me, I found myself admiring his sass.

Sho didn't move, and neither did the old bandit. The tension grew. I debated getting involved. It would take but a second for me to disarm the old bandit, his focus being on Kageyama. But then my weak damsel act earlier would be for naught, and I was enjoying playing the part too much.

The old bandits bow creaked and I gave a fearful whimper for good effect.

"Uh, excuse me....." said a third voice. At first I thought it was the skinny bandit who had spoken, but his mouth hadn't moved. Then I followed Kageyama's eyes to the edge of the woods, where Sanli had emerged from the undergrowth, a sheepish look on his face and his hands open and held before him to show he was unarmed.

The older bandit snapped his bow from me to Sanli. Kageyama tensed. Sanli approached slowly, a friendly smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help overhear you threatening my companions, and it just seems this is all rather counter productive. You see, we're here to help you."

"Sanli..." Kageyama growled from behind his bandit shield, warning him not to get involved. I was inclined to agree. With those zih on his chest Kageyama was near immortal, and I was just some girl he had met a week ago. Why put himself in danger?

Sanli gestured to Kageyama's exposed chest and the words there. "As you can see, my friend and I serve the Green Throne. We are actually in the area surveying the damage done by drought to the local farming communities. I take it you are from one of those communities?"

The older bandit narrowed his eyes, and replied simply "I am." I saw then what Sanli had noticed that I had not. The older man's bent back and squinting eyes were from years spent working at a loom. The skinny man's burnt face and neck were from days spent in the fields. The bows they both held were made for hunting game rather than killing humans.

These were no bandits. They were farmers. Hungry, desperate farmers.

The older man looked from Sanli to Kageyama. "Even if you are from the Green King here to help, how do I know you won't turn us both over to the magistrate?"

Sanli smiled and spread his arms wide. "Well, as you pointed out earlier, you haven't committed a crime... yet."

The older man looked back and forth again "Tell your friend to let my son go, and then we'll talk." Sanli nodded to Kageyama, who hesitated, sighed, and then pushed the skinny man away from him. With a twirl of his fingers, Kagayama spun the knife as if to slide it up his sleeve, realized he was shirtless, and then left it there, lying against his wrist, at the ready.

The skinny man hurried to his father's side. "Sorry ba, he was too fast."

His father ignored him, instead lowering his bow and tucking his arrow back into the quiver hung from his belt. He looked to Sanli, eyes sharp beneath his shaggy eyebrows. "You're a little late. The drought was last year. This year the rain washed most of the western fields away."

"If you would be so kind as to show us the damage, we can make a report to take back to Linjing," said Sanli, bowing slightly.

It struck me as comical, an elegant, prince like man like Sanli speaking with such respect to a peasant in rags. There was no mockery in Sanli's tone or posture however.

The older man nodded west, upstream. "The village is that way."

*~*~*~*~*~*

After returning to camp to collect our possessions and Zakhar, who had stayed behind to watch the horses, ("I pay you to guard Sanli, not the bloody horses,"complained Sho) we followed the old man and his son up the mountain, along a narrow path that led along the stream. The path was criss-crossed by snaking vines and roots, and the men had to lead their horses.

I clacked along on my wooden sandals at the back of the group. After the men had gotten a little bit ahead, I called out that I would catch up with them, and slipped into the undergrowth.

Out of view of the path, I sank onto a fallen log and opened my pack, which I had insisted on carrying for once, and dug around in it. My fingers felt the soft wrinkled cover of my copy of The Book of Mountain and Seas and pulled it out. The book was leather bound, but the cover was so worn the leather was as pliable as the paper it contained. I flipped the book open.

The Book of Mountain and Seas was a guide to all the temples and shrines and their respective gods in the entirety of the Inner Kingdom. In addition, it had a good deal of information about the mu'ren of various regions, as well as ordinary human settlements and roads connecting them. In short, it was a traveler's dearest companion.

It was the same book that Sanli had held as he chanted my prayer a week ago at my abandoned temple. Though, I had to wonder at what edition he had, as I thought my prayer and any mention of me had been removed from all editions after my fall from godhood.

Idly, I flicked through the pages of my own copy, filled not only with printed words and maps but with my my own messy scrawl, in ink or charcoal or whatever I had happened to have at hand. I flipped through the pages of maps showing routes to various shrines and temples of the Eastern Kingdom, until I came to a map of the region we were currently in. I found the village we were heading to with the point of my finger, and read aloud the words added in my messy hand beside it.

"Mengxiang. Spring, year 643 of the Golden Era. Good mulberry pies." I counted the years since I had last been to Mengxiang. Given it was currently year 768 GE, it had been... a while. A least 100 years.

I had a rule I had decided on for myself when I began my wandering among the humans. I called it the '100 year rule'. It dictated I could only visit a town or village once every 100 years. Why such a rule? There were many reasons, but the main one was to avoid complications. If I existed, without aging, for too long somewhere, without the excuse of being mu'ren to explain away my long life, people might start to ask questions, start to wonder why.

Nothing sours someone's attitude toward you like envy, and watching someone stay young and beautiful while you yourself aged and your loved ones died tended to instill a bitter jealousy in even the kindest of neighbors.

It was easier to just keep moving.

100 years insured all the humans I had met on my previous visit to a place were either dead or senile. Mu'ren I generally avoided, and those I couldn't usually didn't remember me. Long life did not mean a long memory. Mu'ren, with their long lives, tended to be more forgetful than humans. All those faces, voices, memories. It became hard to place people. I knew this better than anyone.

Putting away my book, I slung my pack over my shoulder and returned to the path. As I emerged from the bushes, I saw Sanli had waited for me, his dapple grey gelding, Little Light, standing quietly beside him.

He smiled at me when I appeared. "You never know, there might be actual bandits," he said by way of explanation. Graciously he nodded and gestured for me to proceed him up the path.

"Just a humble merchant, huh?" I said to him over my shoulder, referring to what he had told me his profession was when we first spoke at the inn in Nan'ye.

"Don't hold my lie against me. You can never be certain of people's intentions... sometimes anonymity is just easier."

Too true. "I agree," I said. "In what capacity do you serve the Green King? A scribe, a magistrate, a censor?"

"I'm a bit of everything," he replied evasively, "Though, technically I serve the Green Throne. The Green King is dead. But you knew that I'm sure."

I did know that. Very well. Lu had met the woman of his dreams a few centuries ago, fallen in love, and so the story goes. There had been only one problem: the woman had been human. Instead of letting her age and die alone, Lu had offered to become mortal as well, so they could do so together. It was hard to believe someone would give up godhood and immortality for love, but, well, Lu had always managed to surprise me.

Since his death, Lu's human descendents had taken on the role of regent, until another Green King could be chosen.

I shook my head, coming back to the present. "It's obvious Zakhar isn't an antiquarian. That was a terrible choice of profession," I accused.

Sanli laughed behind me. "The only antiquities he handles..." he trailed off, leaving me to imagine his meaning.

"And Lord Kageyama? He isn't really a teacher is he?" I asked, thinking of his speed and surety with the knife earlier.

Sanli laughed again. "Sho Sensei is actually a teacher. He teaches literature at the University in Linjing when he isn't keeping me out of trouble."

I frowned. That didn't make sense. Why would a powerful mu'ren and professor interrupt his life to escort some bureaucrat around?

"How did you two meet?" I asked. A personal question, but as we were not face to face (I still walked ahead of him on the narrow path) I felt I could ask it.

There was a pause, and then Sanli replied simply "He was my teacher." I left it at that.

We soon caught up to the others, and a brief five minutes after that we reached a natural rock wall. To the right of the path a waterfall fell down the stones of the cliff, a smooth black line among the ragged green of the overgrown cliff face. Directly ahead, the path ended at a narrow gate made of wooden piling set into a slim crevice in the rock face.

The older man, who had introduced himself earlier as Lao Bang, nodded, and his son, who's name he had given as Xiao Bang, stepped forward, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out. "Five is a holy number!"

My lip twisted at the greeting. Superstitious peasants. There was an old belief that mu'ren could not lie, and since they did not consider The Five, champions of humanity, as holy, they could not utter the traditional greeting.

It was complete nonsense. Most mu'ren were very good at lying.

A voice beyond the wooden piling echoed the same words, and then a narrow door in the wood creaked open. It was just wide enough for the horses to pass, and we all filed through.

The wizened old gate keep on the other side nodded at us, "You're supposed to rob them, not bring back more mouths to feed," he complained at Lao Bang.

"Shut it. These are our guests. They've come from the Green King to help us." The gatekeeper hurriedly bowed his way back to his post and Lao Bang led on.

We filed through the narrow crevice in the rock, slim shafts of sunlight from above casting dappled patches of light on our path, like stepping stones set in the dark. Then around another turn we emerged from the crevice into the light, an impressive sight spread out before us.

Although the day was overcast, the dark of the crevice and the forest before that had me blinking at the sudden increase in light. Before us lay a valley, surrounded on all sides by high craggy hills. In the middle of the valley a stream wound, and beside it were fields of rice and fruit orchards. I could see people here and there, working in the fields or carrying baskets on poles along the road beside the river.

But this could be a village scene anywhere. The astounding feature of the valley before us was the giant houses. Each house stood four or five stories tall, and was roofed in a dense layer of thatch nearly as thick as I was tall. The angle of the roof sloped steeply, so instead of simply serving as a roof, it was also the walls of the upper stories. Windows pocked the thatch at various intervals, showing that there were floors built into the roof and not simply empty arching space.

I had seen buildings thatched and constructed in a similar manner, but never of this size. Five or six families could comfortably live in each of Mengxiang's houses, and perhaps more in the larger ones. Why didn't I make note of these buildings in my copy of Mountain and Seas? Did the mulberry pies consume my attention that much?

I realized Lao Bang was talking, telling us the history of his village and it's impressive buildings. "My father's generation built them, with the money they made off the silk trade, which my grandfather first introduced. Usually we just live on the lower floor. The upper floors are for work and raising the worms."

Oh. That was why. They hadn't been here the last time I had been in Mengxiang. I guess it had been over 100 years.

Kageyama noticed my fascination and leaned toward me. "We have buildings like this where I come from, in Wa." Wa was the native name for the Eastern Isles. He pointed out the the high, triangular shape of the roof to me. "You see the slant of the roof? It has to be at at least 50 degrees, so the snow and rain run off. Otherwise a roof that size will collapse under its own weight."

More impressive than his knowledge was the fact that Kageyama could suspend his dislike of me to explain this. Perhaps he was a teacher after all.

Lao Bang gestured for us to follow him. "You can leave your horses at my place, and then I'll take you to the western fields, where the worst of the damage was."

As we got closer though I saw cracks in what had looked like paradise from a distance. Some of the magnificent houses were clearly unoccupied and had fallen into disrepair, windows cobwebbed over and moss and ferns growing from the thatch. Many of the fields were fallow, and the trees in the orchards were stunted and withered with disease or drought. The people working in the fields that were in use were either very old or very young, suggesting the able bodied had left the village to search for more profitable employment.

It was sad, to think that even such a beautiful place as this had its shadows.

Lao Bang stopped in front of one of the largest houses, five stories tall judging by the rows of windows. At the top, where the roof arch met, a single round window was set, covered over with white paper like the rest. However, onto the paper of the top window, blue paper in the shape of stars had been pasted haphazardly, as if by small, unskilled hands.

A skinny old woman came to the door to greet us, drying her hands on her apron. "My wife," Lao Bang introduced her.

The woman looked us over carefully. "Who's this?" She asked, with a strange dialect. A smile spread across her wrinkled face, showing more empty gums than teeth. I realized that was where the 'dialect' came from.

"They're here to survey the damage and report back to the Green King," Lao Bang said, motioning for Xiao Bang to take the horses to the stable off to one side. "I'll take them up to see the western terrace before it gets dark."

"Aiyah, Lao Bang you stingy bastard, give them something to eat and drink first! Come in and sit. Just for a moment!" She disappeared back into the house and the sound of clanging plates soon followed. Lao Bang sighed and gestured for us to follow her in.

Inside was a long room, the roof low. From the roof and walls dried herbs and fruits were hung. A clay stove stood in one corner. Half the floor was made from large flat stones pressed into the clay ground, and the other half was raised wooden planks polished smooth with the passage of countless feet.

A large wooden table with benches sat in the middle, and Lao Bang gestured for us to take a seat. His wife put a pitcher and several ceramic cups in front of us, along with a plate of pale green cakes.

"Blueberry wine and some lotus cakes," she nodded to the table. "You don't all need to go tromping up there just to look at some washed out fields. Perhaps the lad wouldn't mind staying here to help me." Grabbing a cake and stuffing it in my mouth, I didn't realize she was talking about me until I looked up.

"The lads a girl, ma," Xiao Bang said, returning from the stable, a blush forming on his cheeks as he recalled how much of a girl I was.

"Oh-" said his mother, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she processed what kind of girl traveled alone with three men disguised in boys clothes. But when she smiled, it was warm. "Well then, why don't you stay here and help with preparations? You've come at a good time. We've the firefly festival to celebrate."

"Of course," I said, as I reached for the plate again.

"Oooh, or even better yet, come with me." Before I could take my second bun she grabbed me by the arm and hustled me to stand before a large wooden chest in the corner. There she dug into the chest and started pulling out garments, all made of beautiful, richly colored silks, in hues of amazing red and pink and saffron, like flowers on a bright spring day, and deep bright blues and greens, like the water of a tropical sea. She shoved them all into my arms. The garments were light, almost weightless.

After taking off my wooden traveling shoes, she bid me step up from the kitchen floor onto the raised wooden flooring of the rest of the house. Then, in a voice that made my heart jump to my throat, she screeched up through the staircase that led to the next level. "SANGMI! COME HELP OUR GUEST!"

The sound of small footsteps running somewhere up in the great house followed and grew louder, closer, until a pair of small feet appeared on the stairs leading to the second floor, followed by a round face. Pausing on the middle step, a girl around six years old stared at the strangers in her kitchen.

"Sangmi, help our guest bathe and change, will you? That's a good girl," the girl took me by the wrist and led me over to a door on the other side of the room.

As I opened the door, Lao Bang's wife called after us, "There's no lock, but don't worry, my men know to stay out," she slapped Xiao Bang's chest with the back of her hand as if to punctuate her authority.

I glanced over the assembled men in the kitchen, my eyes coming to rest on Kageyama. "It's not your men I'm worried about," I said.

He pretended not to hear me and reached for the pitcher of blueberry wine, but the corner of his mouth twitched. I smirked and shut the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*

❤️ Fanart by Dearlyarlynne !