Chang Heng knocked at the door of the bakery. It was the middle of the night, so obviously it was closed, but clearly the owner was awake and at work. After some muffled swearing and the sounds of heavy things being moved and doors slamming and locking, he was greeted by a known face.

  It was soft, fat, and friendly, despite the small scar on his left cheek. The man had black hair and wore a dirty shirt stained in too many things to gauge its exact colour. Despite that, he didn’t look unclean or smelly, but just… busy.

  He had seen the man already once, but couldn’t remember where or why.

  The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before the baker spoke.

  “Uhm… do I know you? You seem like a nice kid, but I don’t know anyone sketchy enough to be up at this time of the night.”

  The boy felt doubly offended at that.

  “I swear I’m not sketchy. I’m just kind of… lost. And please don’t call me boy- oh, wait, kid. Please don’t call me kid.”

  “Sure… so, who are you supposed to be?”

  “Uh, I’m Chang Heng…” he wanted to add that they had already met once, but was too embarrassed to admit he didn’t remember who the man was.

  “Oh! OH, yes, yes. I remember escorting you to the… one of the gates. Your cousin told you only my name, my full one is Xisheng Lung. But just Lung is fine, too, I’m not that proud of the family one, and it’s quite the mouthful…” The man stared again for a second, before he resumed. “Did you… cry in the carriage, when I was bringing you back?”

  “No! N- no… I didn’t… cry…”

  The man gave a half smile.

  “You are right, I must be confused.” He winked. Officially, the redhead’s pride was spared. “Now come in, I can’t let a relative of my benefactor wait outside like this!”

  The room had a simple, cosy atmosphere: it was a bit small, with a counter featuring shelves behind it, taking up the side opposite the entrance. Bags of flour were placed by its side, and the other walls were also covered in shelves and cabinets. Most were empty, but some held pieces of bread or closed jars. There were a couple of small tables on one side; the candle lights were on the dimmer side, but were still enough to give a slightly golden hue to the cheap bricks and wood that made up the place.

  There was a slightly higher concentration of ambient Qi there, likely a sign of how lived the place was.

  “This place looks nice, Lung. Is it yours?”

  “More like my family’s, but yes. It’s been passed down for eleven generations of bakers, I’m the twelfth Xisheng to own it. Now, let’s get to business. What do you need at this time in the morning? Don’t ask for a meal, tho, or you’ll have to help me cook it, Bahaha!”

  “No, no, no need! I just want some directions, I can’t find the way back to my clan…”

  The man looked at him funnily.

  “Oh, of course, of course. Alright, the way to get there is…”

  The following minute was filled with names of streets, recognisable places, and directions that had to be guessed twice or more to get to the right ones. A confused mess, as the boy’s face clearly told.

  “I’m that bad, uh?” The soft man seemed to melt a bit as he said that, his body sagging, but the warm smile stayed.

  “No… I’m just new to… needing to remember this stuff. Sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t apologise for things that don’t matter, kid, or doing it for those that do matter will lose meaning. Now, I have a better solution. A traveller came here once, a secretive guy, in need of something to eat but carrying nothing to pay. So, in exchange for a watery soup and some stale bread, he offered me some maps he had drawn out of habit, and he was quite decent at it. One of which was of our lovely city.”

  Chang Heng didn’t have time to get excited before a smart light came to the man’s eyes, and the kind smile was switched for one of a haggling merchant looking to empty a client’s pockets a bit more.

  “I can lend it to you, but… you’ll have to help me knead the bread and move some of these flour bags first. I may or may not be a bit late on my schedule, heh! How does it sound?”

  It was work, and since it would be just lent, probably a bit too much, but… that first walk alone had been a simple thing, yet fun for its “new-ness”. Who could say it wouldn’t be the same for some bakery work?

  “I’m in! I’ll start right away!”

  “Bahaha, I like your spirit! I’ll go fetch your map, kid.”

  “Of course.”

  The redhead moved with the man, who stopped and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “The dough can be kneaded in the back, and the flour bags you can leave there also. This place is not just my workplace, but my house too! You can’t get in my basement, you don’t want to see what kind of stuff I have left there for years! Now, shoo, shoo!”

  With a smile, the two separated and got to their respective tasks.

  The sound of heavy things being moved was heard again, together with some creative swearing, making the boy chuckle.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  The improvised bakery work was fun, too, despite what awaited him after it.

  …

  Following the colourful lines added to the map, Chang Heng was getting closer to the terrains. He could barely see the red roofs in the distance.

  The closer he got, the faster his heart sped up. What would happen there? He didn’t want to know. He wanted to run away, or sneak in and see his parents and sister, or just… hope that no one would remember the “bet” he had with Chang Jian. A pointless hope anyway. His cousin was not so forgetful.

  His body reacted to those wants, making his steps feel heavier, becoming slower and slower. But there was no way he’d just… accept that. For all he had said to his parents, that, in fact, they’d only be apart two more weeks than needed before he’d have to leave the city anyway, he still wanted to spend those weeks with them.

  Who knew how long he’d spend far from Green Leaves City? Or if he’d perish during that time?

  Most likely, there was nothing he could do. And yet…

  Xie Shun died to support his brother. Cousin Jian fought hordes of monsters to protect people he didn’t know, and push himself to his limits. My stupid little sister Xia got herself a gang of kids to open a crowd and hug me. My father was ready to take on the anger of the Patriarch on himself to help me.

  I’ve finally got a chance of repaying them, I’m still on my feet, so I won’t back down. This is the lesson they wanted to teach me with this bet, and I’ve learnt it.

  Anxiety and determination rose within him in a competition to decide what he’d do. He didn’t give the former time to win before he reached the first house in red and was forced to stop.

  Two guards waited there.

  Both thin and unkept, one with a long nose, one with a scar by his chin, they had serious expressions as they watched him. Both were Cultivators, in the middle of the Qi Acclimation, much stronger than the boy was. Under their leather helmet, neither had the copper red hair typical of his clan.

  What is going on?

  He moved as if everything was normal, walking between them, despite his muscles tensing under his shirt.

  The one with a long nose stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

  “Who are you, and what’s your business here?” the man said, but from his tone, he clearly knew the answer already.

  “Chang Heng, son of Chang Jun and Chang Li. I’m here to speak with the Patriarch.”

  “Guessed so.” Scarred said from the side. “I’ll go fetch who is on duty with your case. Stay here.” He left at a leisurely pace.

  Despite that, he was left waiting only for a few minutes before his cousin appeared in the distance, accompanied by the man. He had the same calm, yet confident air of always, like a predator surrounded by prey, his long hair tied by a beautiful string, his hand resting ready on the flat pommel of his sheathed katana.

  The only difference was in his eyes: from a lively brown, to a cold sky blue with tinges of white. [Past’s Eye], one of the two Techniques the boy knew his cousin had, was clearly in use; what for, he didn’t know.

  The boy had barely given a look at the Technique in the last couple of days, not even bothering to try to fill the empty gaps to complete it, but the astonishing complexity was not forgotten. That the young man could use it so freely was just proof of his monstrous talent.

  “Hi, older Cousin. Have you been cousing problems for our lovely guard?”

  Being called that by someone who both looked and acted more mature than him left Chang Heng a bit uneasy. Especially since he had started on the way to give him the challenge he had failed.

  “No. I haven’t done anything I shouldn’t have done.”

  “Not even losing?”

  Pause.

  His mind paused. The tone was casual. The expression was casual. The body language was casual. Chang Jian well and truly sounded like he didn’t care at all.

  And yet… the last word felt like the worst of accusations. Anything could’ve been excused, from cheating, to humiliating himself, to killing his opponent. But not losing.

  The shorter of the two gulped. Strong and fast, his heart thumped in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird.

  “T- that… was not the point. I did all I could. I fought with everything I had to give, and won two more times than I should have!”

  In that moment, Chang Jian’s body seemed to wither and die in front of him, as all friendliness and calm were melted away in favour of the cold stare of a dead body. The eyes switched back to their original brown, but there was no life in them. His hand slipped away from the pommel, like a puppet with its strings cut loose. His mouth was barely agape, centipedes and corpse-eating, foul insects ready to writhe out.

  The sight reminded him of the madness of Dong Juren.

  “You are not allowed to lie to me. What did you do, between one match and another? What did you do, as the City Lord spoke too long? What did you do, the free morning your luck gave you?”

  He had stepped closer and closer with each question, until he had had to bend his neck almost ninety degrees to stare at him. A giant bending down to judge a child, proportions twisting and losing logic just to press down on him.

  The boy felt like puking, as he looked back up. He wanted so much to avert his gaze, but he couldn’t. An invisible blade was pressed on his neck, stained in dried blood and fragments of bones and organs.

  Visions of Old Man Ling, in his worst state of desperate seclusion, came to mind.

  In front of fear, Chang Heng had run away one time too many that night. Whether it was pride, love, desperation or simply the desire to finally surpass the himself of a month earlier, he didn’t know.

  “I rested, gathering my energies and readying myself. I tried to force myself into the right mindset to make it. And I succeeded and won, twice, thanks to that. In the morning, I improved my foundation once again, and formed a first connection with Uncle Peng, the City Lord, that could serve me in the future.”

  He wanted to say more, but even just answering that was a struggle against every survival instinct.

  The monster stepped back.

  The blade was no more on the boy’s neck, as it sheathed back in the pits of the monster’s eyes.

  His being shifted, gaining back its humanity. Chang Jian now carried himself in seriousness and dignity. The light blue eyes came back, together with his calm.

  “It wasn’t the full truth, but there was enough of it for me to accept. As you improve as a Cultivator, you’ll learn that we only speak the truth; that’s our privilege. At least, your lies were pointed in the right direction.”

  He looked back and offered him, for once, an empathetic smile.

  Accompanied by a few guards, servants, and the first rays of dawn, Chang Heng’s parents and sister were coming. In front of them, leaving a shadow for the length of the whole street, Patriarch Guang walked, a pulsing vein on his neck, eyes hard.

  “You don’t have my enmity, Cousin. But I won’t help you with this. I doubt my father will say anything I don’t agree with.”