Beware Of Chicken

They all seemed to have it well in hand, so Tigu turned and looked back down the street at the shattered walls and broken homes.

When she was smashing people into buildings and tearing off roof tiles to throw at people last night she hadn’t exactly been considering just how much damage she had been causing—though somehow Gou Ren had managed to eclipse her. The streets had been outright destroyed by his strikes. Shattered like he had taken a massive hammer to them. Her fellow disciple was enthusiastic at repairing things, but she caught him wincing every so often when he looked at the damage he had done.

The battle had lasted but a couple of hours, and yet this was the result. Destruction, in addition to the harm visited on her friends. She looked up and around the street. There was a lot of it. Too much.

Another act by that bastard. Loud Boy, Rags, Xiulan, the town… It made her furious.

And what was going to happen to those bastards, even moreso.

“The ringleader is dead. There will be reparations, but other than that… I do not know. We’ll take care of our own and pay back everyone who helped us.” Her master had murmured into her hair as he stirred the eggs in the wok this morning.

He had said that… and yet he had spoken nothing of vengeance.

Why would her Master be so lenient on them? They had hurt her. Hurt Xiulan. Nearly killed Rags and Loud Boy. Caused so much destruction—

She snarled and her shovel came down, smashing a rock.

Why would they still live? The question ate at her. Surely her Master was strong enough to destroy them, wasn’t he? Why were they not being punished to the harshest extent?!

The questions ate at her.

Tigu sighed and leaned on her shovel, ill thoughts churning in her mind.

==================================

Chaoxiang felt ill. His daughter’s sobs echoed through the streets. Ning clutched the broken sign to her chest, her stuffed doll fallen to the side.

All he could do was stare at his destroyed shop.

The thunder last night had been terrifying. His family had all hid under their table in their house on the outskirts of town and waited desperately for the sounds of fighting to stop.

The first thing in the morning he had gone out to survey the damage to his shop. At first, he had been optimistic that the damage would be minor. It wasn’t even that bad on this street. A few errant stones out of place, but every other building in the row was fine.

Except his.

His shop was a pile of rubble. Like something massive had just decided to squash it. He was glad he didn’t live in his shop, like so many others.

Chaoxiang forlornly pulled at a piece of wood. It didn’t budge.

His neighbors shared commiserating looks with him, and a couple had approached him to help out… but… well. It was pretty much a wash. The roof had been half-torn off, the other half had caved in. Most of his stock of iron was buried beneath it all, and it would take weeks to dig it all out and do inventory.

Well, that was the price of doing business with cultivators.

Chaoxiang sighed again. It was such a monumental task that he felt his motivation shrivel up and die. He even considered just leaving and coming back tomorrow.

“Huh? Why are they all watching him?” somebody muttered.

“Bastards. Haven't they done enough?”

Chaoxiang turned from his destroyed shop and looked in the direction most people were looking. There was a tall, muscular, and freckled man wearing simple clothes walking down the street towards them. He had a symbol on his shirt that Chaoxiang vaguely recognised and was pulling a cart loaded down with what looked like stone and tile, building materials. He had deeply tanned skin and looked a lot like a farmhand.

But strangely, he was being followed by cultivators. Cultivators who were following at a respectful distance, save for four who looked a bit worse for wear. It was comical; they followed while trying to seem nonchalant but you could tell they were focused on the farmhand, all eyes warily watching his progress. Chaoxiang idly wondered what that was about—when the farmhand suddenly stopped, directly in front of Chaoxiang.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I lend you a hand?” The freckled farmhand asked. He gestured to the destroyed building.

Chaoxiang recoiled in shock. Yes, he needed all the help he could get, but he didn’t know the man. Had never seen him before.

“Thank you for the offer, lad, but… why mine? We’re pretty far on the outskirts.” He said instead. He had heard the heaviest fighting had been in the square. Surely, they must be worse off than him?

The farmhand bowed at a full ninety degree angle to Chaoxiang, and the watching cultivators took in sharp breaths of shock.

“Because I was the one who destroyed it.” The man said. His neighbors then went dead silent. The farmhand was a cultivator. Chaoxiang felt his face go white and his bowels clenched up in fear. Chaoxiang’s mind raced and it clicked why the other cultivators were following him.

“My name is Rou Jin. I apologize for my actions. I would like to pay for any damages I have incurred on you and aid in your rebuilding. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave, but only after I pay for the damage.”

The man stayed bowed, as nobody moved or dared to breathe.

Except one.

“You destroyed our shop?!” Little Ning shouted, with all the indignance a child could muster. She stomped up to the cultivator, tears still in her eyes, and hands on her hips, the sign left back where she had been standing.

Panic surged in Chaoxiang’s throat as the cultivator rose out of his bow to crouch down before Ning. His neighbors remained silent, terrified and bewildered, unwilling to get involved.

“Yes. I’ve done a very bad thing.” The cultivator said gently, squatting down before his daughter.

“So I’ve come to beg your forgiveness and make amends.”

Ning’s glare softened at the genuine contrition in the cultivator’s warm voice and his serious expression. Ning then puffed up and nodded her head imperiously.

“I’ll forgive you, but only if you fix it,” his daughter decided.

“Thank you.” The cultivator bowed his head to Ning. He rose and turned to Chaoxiang. Chaoxiang tried to swallow the lump in his throat and hastily bowed.

“Ah... thank you for your benevolence in noticing this lowly one, Master Cultivator. Your generosity knows no bounds.” He stumbled over his words, practically cowering.

The cultivator let out a little sigh, looking at him, then placed a hand on Chaoxian’s shoulder.

“I’ll make it right.” He declared, turning to assess the damage. “Right. Let's see if we can get this done today.”

Today?!

The cultivator turned back to the men who had followed him, Chaoxiang noticed most of the other cultivators had disappeared, all except the four. “Yingwen. Either sit there and don’t move, or lend a hand,” he said to them.

The cultivators looked at each other before this “Yingwen”, who was the least injured out of all of them, stepped forward.

The rest followed.

==================================

All around the Dueling Town, as the locals called it, men and women worked with heavy hearts.

Many did not know the cause of the fight last night. Some whispered of a kidnapping, others, a drunken brawl.

None knew for certain. All they had were rumors. The officials were still busy with the closed mountain.

So they did the only thing they could do. They went to work. They repaired the damage done as best they could.

Like they always did. It had been the worst fight outside the arena in centuries… but they had gotten off lightly, all told. Only two deaths that he knew of. The worst of it seemed to have happened outside the town.

Shu, the owner of a pottery house sighed. His old hands shook with exhaustion, and it wasn’t even noon. His kiln had caved in, a hit from an errant piece of masonry. He was definitely going to be in the red this year, and his apprentices would go hungry—

“You there!” a haughty voice called.

Shu turned—and recoiled at the sight of a cultivator glaring at him.

“Me, Mistress?” Shu asked, clutching at his shirt, head bowed.

“This one is Yinxia Qiao. Be grateful, for I have decided to assist you. What needs to be done?” She demanded.

Every worker had gone silent. All movement ceased.

“Well? I do not have all day!” she commanded. “I am the equal of any task that could be required!”

Shu, bewildered and in shock at the cultivator’s fierce eyes, said the first thing that came to mind. He gestured to the mass of stones that had been his kiln.

“This needs to be removed and broken down by the mason’s guild.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Surely, the cultivator would be angry? Why was she offering in the first place? He expected her to explode

“Hmph.” The cultivator woman clicked her tongue. She stared at the rubble in disdain.

She rolled up her immaculate silk sleeves and picked up a chunk of kiln bigger than Shu.

One of his men turned to Shu, pure confusion on his face.

Shu shook his head, just as bewildered as his apprentice.The woman plucked up hundreds of pounds of stone like they weighed nothing—when she suddenly paused and set her burden back down. She rummaged on the ground for a moment and came back up with a broken plate.

“Ah, this one is quite a fine design!” The woman declared. “I shall allow you to have my business when this is over!”

Shu pinched himself. Maybe a piece of the rubble had hit him instead of his kiln.

==========================

“Truly? It needs to be destroyed?” Chen Yang of the Framed Sun Sect asked. He stared at the building. It seemed serviceable enough to him, but he knew barely anything of carpentry or the building of houses. Many cultivators had “chosen” to do basic manual labour so as not to make fools of themselves, rather than admit that they had no idea how to help.

Really, the only useful member of his sect was his junior, Ai, as her father had been a carpenter. Something he hadn’t known before she volunteered.

“Yes, Master Cultivator.” The mortal foreman said. “That wall is load bearing. We can’t work with it like it is. Too much pressure. The wall will collapse.”

Ai whispered in his ear. “We could just lift it up? That would take the pressure off…”

Chen Yang nodded. He walked under the rubble and the half collapsed building. The beams were still fairly solid. He placed his hands on them, got a good grip— and lifted the roof off the building.

“Ai. Do what you need to.” Yang commanded.

She nodded and the Framed Sun Sect got to work.

Yang considered Ai. She worked with speed and grace, while a bunch of the mortal men stared at her in awe.

….Perhaps he should learn something like that?

====================================

“Dumplings, get your dumplings!” A man shouted, pushing along a cart.

Shan pulled out his pockets and grimaced at the number of coins he had. He could get one. Maybe two…

“Get food and drink to all of them.” Luo Shi, the cultivator who had inserted himself into their work group, commanded. “Will eight silver coins suffice?”

The dumpling seller did a double take as the cultivator strode towards him.

“Eight silver coins.” The man demanded again. Shan knew that for all the dumplings in the cart, there wasn’t anywhere near that.

“Ah… uh… You are too kind Master Cultivator, but… that is too much—” The dumpling man tried to get out, but the cultivator ignored him. A coin pouch was thrust into the man’s hand and the dumplings collected.

“You may praise me for my generosity, mortals,” Luo Shi declared.

The men cheered.

=========================

“What ails you, Sister?” Bi De asked from atop her wheelbarrow. Tigu startled on hearing the rooster’s voice out loud rather than in his normal Qi Speech. It had always been full of strength, but as it reverberated through the air, it seemed somehow… more. She could even admit in the hidden parts of herself that he was almost regal.

No matter how much another part of her rebelled against ever thinking of Bi De as regal.

She looked at him. The honest concern on his avian face.

The bastard… no, no, he never really had been a bastard to her, had he? She had always been the one instigating things. Tigu remembered the feelings of contempt every time she looked at Bi De. Her mocking laughter as she insulted him over and over again.

And yet… he had never really taken her bait. He had always called her his sister disciple and respected her.

The reflexive reaction to tell him to mind his own business faded.

He had gone on his own journey. He had delved into the secrets of this world. Perhaps he had some wisdom for her?

She crushed the feeling of shame, at having to ask for help, down again. Instead, she just stared out at the streets.

“Have you ever seen any place like this?” She took a breath and asked finally, deciding to lead into it.

The rooster looked over the broken buildings, his eyes taking in everything. “Yes. I have witnessed many, many

destroyed villages. Most were utterly devoid of people. They were… wrong. I did not like finding them. Those cold and dead places were the majority. But I have seen such destruction in the direct aftermath only twice. The first was our own home, after Chow Ji,” Bi De said.

Tigu searched her memories. They were a little bit fuzzy. She had been mostly awake then, but still had flashes of darkness. Looking back on it... It had been pretty bad, hadn’t it? She’d had no frame of reference before. The wounds inflicted on Bi De, Chun Ke and Pi Pa had been marks of shame in her eyes. Failures. Now all those memories elicited were concern. “The other was the Eighth Correct Place.”

Tigu chewed at her lip. “The place with the wolves? The one you talked about in your letter? What happened there?”

The rooster turned to her.

“The town was repaired. The people mourned the fallen… and then life went on.” The rooster said simply.

Tigu paused at the bluntness of the statement. “Did they hunt the wolves to the end?” She asked. Such destruction the beasts had visited upon the town from Bi De’s tale. Surely they must have retaliated.

The rooster shook his head. “No, they did not. After that night… It ended.”

A story of blood, vengeance, and hate… just petering out.

“Why?” Tigu asked.

The rooster pondered the question. “Allow me to ask you a question instead. What would they gain from such a thing?”

“Their enemies would be destroyed,” Tigu stated simply. “They could never again bother them.”

The rooster nodded. “Now… what would they lose?”

Tigu froze at the question. What would they lose?

Bi De nodded at her silence and the thoughtfulness on her face. She had never really thought about the price…

“Indeed, they could have chased the wolves forever. They could have hunted every last wolf down and exterminated them. But… what would they lose in doing so? Who would guard the sheep? Who would take care of the children? Who would perform the tasks around the village? And finally….what if those actions spawned another wolf with Qi? A wolf with Qi that hated them as much as they hated it? Before they slew the wolf pups. Before they embarked upon the first campaign of extermination… the wolf that was once called the Terror was just a wolf with the spark.” Bi De brought his wing to his wattles and stroked them, as Tigu thought on what he said.

“Now, in some cases such an extermination may be the correct answer; this Bi De lacks the knowledge to know when one’s spurs must be wielded in such a way until the bloody business is done. But first, one must always ask themselves: What am I willing to lose for it?”

Tigu turned to Loud Boy and Rags. To Misty Lady and Gou Ren. She thought about Xiulan in her bed.

How much were her feelings worth really? How much was hurting the Shrouded Mountain Sect worth?

What was she willing to lose? Her Master had destroyed the man who had ordered the assault. What would she gain from striking down every man involved?

That was probably what her Master was thinking of. What he had to lose if things escalated. If even a fight between disciples could produce this much damage…

Tigu had things she wasn’t willing to lose either.

Tigu pondered the rooster's words as she scooped up another piece of rubble.

“Bi De?”

“Yes, Sister Tigu?”

“Thank you.”

The rooster seemed taken aback by her honest words for a moment, before his eyes softened.

“If my words have aided you, then it is all worth it,” he said. “The Great Master and the Healing Sage say knowledge unshared is worthless! We give to each other and are repaid in kind, no?”

We give to the Land and the Land gives back. Master was quite fond of that saying.

Tigu felt a small smile cross her face.

“So you’re extorting your Junior Sister for knowledge now?” she asked coyly.

Bi De looked offended. “I merely wished to know of your adventures—”

He cut off at Tigu’s mocking smile, leapt up to her shoulder and cuffed gently on the ear with his wing. Tigu giggled at the fond amusement emanating off of him.

“Very well, I shall regale you with my exploits!” Tigu declared. The rooster shook his head but settled on her shoulder. His beak preened her hair as she told him all about the tournament. Of the friends she had made.

Bi De listened to her, nodding along to her tale. Eventually she wandered back over to everybody else, Loud Boy occasionally chiming in to expand on her boastful stories. Gou Ren ruffling her hair. Yun Ren bringing up another image.

Tigu didn’t feel entirely better, as she laughed and joked with her friends. Things were too raw, too fresh still.

But as the street cleared from devastated ruin to something that could be repaired, and as Handsome Man had lunch with them…

Tigu thought perhaps things could get better.

============================

Beneath the earth, a mortal stood between several masters. He stared at the arcane machinery with trepidation.

The old men nodded.

The maintenance rod moved. The barriers flickered and died.