Book 5: Chapter 10: Dinner and a Tale

Book 5: Chapter 10: Dinner and a Tale

While it had been a while since Sen was fleeing for his life, he couldn’t help be feel a little anxious when they finally stepped out of the wilds and onto a road. Yet, all that happened was that a passing farmer pulling a small cart behind him gave them a disbelieving look before hurrying away. Sen supposed he couldn’t blame the man for that. Nothing good ever came out of the wilds. For an hour or two, they just walked, but both soon grew bored with that and started to put on some speed. They’d been traveling through the wilds for weeks and, despite the rare spirit beast attacks, it had still slowed them down. While Sen had three months to complete the task, he didn’t want to assume that everything would go smoothly on Mt. Solace. He wanted to create a buffer so that they could get back with time to spare. Soon, they blew past that first farmer they’d seen. Sen had to suppress a laugh at the startled look on the man’s face.

They swiftly found a small village but decided to keep going after a brief discussion. There were still several hours of daylight left, and they could go a long way at the speed they traveled. It turned out to be a good decision because they saw town walls in the distance well before sunset. Granted, no mortal could have made that journey in a day, let alone an afternoon, but cultivation did have its benefits. While they just barely got there before the gates were locked, two cultivators practically appearing out of nowhere startled the two guards so much that one of them actually dropped their spear. Sen snatched it out of the air.

“Here you go,” said Sen, handing the guard the spear.

“Th... Thank you,” stammered the man.

“Are there any decent inns in town?” Sen asked.

The two guards exchanged a look. The one who dropped his spear gave Sen a very uncertain look.

“I’m not sure we have anything that will meet your standards, honored cultivator.”

It took Sen a moment to understand what was happening before he realized he was back out in a fairly rural area. While cultivators weren’t unknown, they were rare by comparison to a place like the capital or even a larger city like Emperor’s Bay. These guards were basing their responses as much on stories of vengeful cultivators as they were on any direct experience. Sen was sympathetic. He remembered all too well how afraid he’d been of Master Feng those first few days. He imagined these guards thought that Sen and Falling Leaf might destroy the town if they weren’t happy with the available accommodations.

“We only require clean beds, a bath, and perhaps a meal. No luxury required.”

Relief that bordered on the palpable flowed out of the two men.

“Of course, honored cultivator,” said the second guard. “There is the Blue Lotus Inn or the Restful Tiger Inn.”

“Which is closer?” asked Falling Leaf.

“The Restful Tiger,” answered the guard.

“Where is that?” she asked.

The man who had mostly been paying attention to Sen had turned to give Falling Leaf his full attention. His eyes had gone a little wide and his mouth was hanging slightly open. Shaking his head a little, Sen reached out and closed the man’s mouth with a finger before he turned his eyes on the first guard.

“Directions?” he asked.

“What?” said the first guard, his eyes shifting back to Sen.

The two of them shared food and wine for a time. Sen half-listened to a man telling well-known stories of heroes and legends. Sen’s blood ran a little cold when the man started telling stories about Judgment’s Gale. Sen sighed at just how inaccurate they were. Some of the things were vaguely familiar but not at all as he remembered them. Others seemed to have been conjured from whole cloth. He’d never even heard of, let alone visited, half of the places the man talked about. He certainly hadn’t saved all of the villagers he was supposed to have saved. And, somehow, oxen kept finding their way into the stories. While there had been oxen along the way, they hadn’t taken a direct hand in most of his misadventures. He had no clue what the man was talking about when he spoke of a pair of wandering women on an eternal search to find him. Falling Leaf seemed to find the stories equal parts fascinating and hilarious.

“Did that really happen?” she asked him for at least the tenth time.

“No,” said Sen.

“Who cares about that guy,” someone shouted.

“Fine, fine,” said the storyteller. “Perhaps you’ll like this story better. It’s a tale of Righteous Wu Gang.”

Sen’s head snapped around, and he focused on the man. Wu Gang had said he would continue his good works. While Sen doubted that this story would actually be true, it was a sign that Wu Gang was out there doing something. Falling Leaf noticed his attention and focused on the storyteller.

“There is a village to the south called Monk’s Bluff. You may know it, for it is famous for its many plum trees and the beauty of its plum blossoms. It is a peaceful place. Many go there simply to meditate on beauty. Yet, not all respect the peace of Monk’s Bluff, and bandits had begun making raids upon the village. The men there tried to fight back, but most were farmers or tended to the plum trees. They were not accustomed to fighting and had no skill in it. Then, one terrible day the bandits came again, intent on destroying the town and all who lived there. They meant to slay every man, woman, and child. They meant to burn down the trees. All in punishment for the minor resistance the villagers put up against them. When all hope seemed lost, a wind blew from the east and carried a storm over the village. And from the heart of that storm stepped Righteous Wu Gang. He commanded the bandits to leave the village and never return. The bandit leader laughed and jeered.

“‘You are a fool. You have no weapons.’"

“It was true, for Righteous Wu Gang carries no blade and no spear. Yet, he was not daunted. He simply shook his head and once more commanded the bandits to leave. He implored them to save their own lives. But the bandit leader would not listen. He drew his dao and tried to cleave Righteous Wu Gang’s head from his body. With great sadness in his heart, Righteous Wu Gang delivered a swift and mighty blow against the bandit leader. The bandit leader was struck dead from that lone strike. A final time, Righteous Wu Gang commanded the bandits to leave that place and never return. They did not heed his words. Instead, they attacked. One by one or in groups howling with mad rage, it did not matter. Righteous Wu Gang struck them down until none remained.

“When his terrible work was done, the storm passed and villagers rejoiced for they had been saved. The villagers wished to shower what small treasures they had on him, but Righteous Wu Gang would accept no reward for his deeds. He stayed in the village for three days, asking only lodging and food. And each morning he would rise, and work the fields and tend the trees with the villagers, doing the work of ten ordinary men. On the fourth day, he took only fruit, bread, and rice. With a small smile for the villagers he had saved, he disappeared into the mists.”

“Where did he go?” demanded one of the other patrons.

“They say,” said the storyteller, pausing to sip from his wine cup, “that he goes where the need is great. Beyond that, I cannot say.”

Sen couldn’t help but smile.

“Why did that story interest you so much?” asked Falling Leaf.

“Because I know Righteous Wu Gang. I’m sure that story is mostly made up, but I expect there is a sliver of truth in its heart. It pleases me to know that he’s still doing good works.”

“Who is he?”

“A man I probably should have killed and didn’t. And I don’t regret it.”