The House of Drunken Immortals is not the most prosperous restaurant in Duolunduo, but in your collective biased opinion it is the best. Located just outside of town it is perfectly positioned for travelers. The owners, the Hu family, have always been friendly with you all and very good about letting you run up a tab (since you're all so scrupulous about paying it back... eventually).
Mr. Hu, in particular, has always liked you all. You happen to know he brags around town that the Demon-Slaying Tigers all favor his restaurant. So it was naturally your first stop when you came wandering into town after an extended time cultivating qi together in the steppes. You've been away from the Jianghu for a little more than a year now, and you've returned more skilled than ever.
The sun is just starting to go down, and you can see light through the paper windows of the restaurant.
Mr. Hu is outside fetching water when you approach. He looks at first elated and then worried to see you.
Chu Zhu Ji’s slippers are dusty and some of the stitching for the soles is beginning to fray. Her light gray pants have grass and dirt stains, especially at the knees. She wears a white shirt under a light purple jacket, dyed like the sky at twilight, but faded with long exposure to the sun and elements. Her hair is wrapped into a bun and fastened with an ornament of yellow feathers. She has a sling pack for carrying miscellaneous items while she walks. Over her right shoulder, the hilt of her sword Golden Celestial Aura can be seen.
A ring made of two golden bands braided together is on her right thumb. Closer inspection of the bands show two snakes running in opposite directions, each one biting the tail of the other. Finally her necklace is a silver chain with a ring of green lacquered wood, a ruby, a square of tourmaline, a sphere of platinum, and an oval of onyx carved with a crashing wave image.
Chu Zhu Ji bows to the owner The House of the Drunken Immortals. ”Greetings Mr. Hu,” she says with a smile. ”It has been far too long since I’ve had your family’s wonderful dumplings! We bring you a gift.”
She removes her sling pack and takes out a lacquered box. Inside the box are ten porcelain cups packed with cotton. Examining a cup reveals a vine spreading throughout a lattice, all in blue. ”For the delicious green tea you serve.”
"Thank you very much for the kind gift. I will set them aside for special customers."
Mr. Hu's eyes start to water as he delicately accepts the box.
"Your generosity makes asking to impose upon you in this way even more inappropriate, but your return after all this time may be my family's only hope."
Mr. Hu places the box and the water bucket to one side, gets down on his knees, and kowtows before you all, grinding his forehead right against the ground.
"A group of armed men have been in the restaurant for a week straight now without leaving. They keep making more and more unreasonable demands but I don't dare offend them. They have driven away all of my regular customers. And now they have been eating and drinking so long that my family will be ruined if they don't pay. I could never ask this of you, but if you heroes could speak with them and persuade them to pay their bill and leave my family would be forever in your debt."
Mr. Hu's face is bright red. It is obviously very emotionally upsetting to him to speak so frankly.
Flying Sword smiles at Mr. Hu. The distraught owner's present situation notwithstanding, Flying Sword was pleased to see Hu, as it had been far too long and Sword balled one hand into a fist and brought both hands out in front of the chest and bowed reverently.
Flying Sword was wearing a black silk changshan decorated with light grey Imperial symbology. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and atop it he wore a neat indigo canvas vest with small black buttons, the top few of which remained unfastened. His shoes, like his cotton pants were simple and undecorated. His hair was long and loose and fell about his shoulders, and a small topknot pulled the hair on top away from his face. In his left hand he carried the Black Metal Sword, resting quietly in a simple brown scabbard. His right carried a long double-strand of mystical Tao beads wrapped about his wrist and hand which he was constantly fiddling with. The beads made a gentle scraping sound as they moved across his hardened leather silver-embossed gauntlets.
Sword comes up from his bow and gives Hu a concerned look, and then turns that look on his allies. "Mr. Hu, I would be happy to assist you with your problem, but I am concerned that these customers of yours may be provoked into violence if the lot of us present your request. Perhaps we should elect only one of us to make your request?"
He looks to the others for opinions.
Mr. Hu does not raise his head from the ground.
"I would be grateful beyond grateful for any assistance you might offer. I trust that whatever you decide to do is the right thing."
Wu-Yao steps forward and extends a hand to Mr.Hu.
His face is handsome, his skin is fair and his features are sharp and thin. He wears a black vest with colorful embroidery, recognizable to some as a traditional garment from his home. Hanging on his exposed chest is an amulet of ivory and gold. The ivory shaped into a large tooth or fang, the gold a snake coiled around it. Black pants are secured at the waist with a belt adorned with jade and obsidian stones. Thick black hair is held back by an intricately beaded headband, but otherwise falls past his shoulders. Two small braids hang before each ear and a thin beard comes to a point on his chin.
A mottled green viper is coiled round his neck. For the most part, the creature is still. From time to time it rouses, its tongue flickering in the air, to caress his master, rubbing its face along his beard.
"Please, my friend, to your feet." Wu-Yao insists and helps Mr.Hu up from the ground. "Of course we will defend your business and your family's honor. But tell me are these men of Duolunduo, or are they travelers? Do you know any more about them?
Mr. Hu takes Wu-Yao's hand and returns to his feet.
"They are motherless outlaws and wild men from some dark place. There are eleven of them altogether, all armed with steel weapons. They have no respect or propriety; there isn't a drop of civilization in them. They call their leader "Demon Spawn" Qiang are treat him like some barbarian emperor."
None of you have ever heard of someone called "Demon Spawn" Qiang, but then you've been away from the Jianghu for a year.
"Friends, we should be prepared to ... persuade these men by force if it becomes necessary. They don't sound like the type of folk who will take kindly to any words, no matter how prettily we paint them. I say we draw them out and demand they pay and leave at once."
It has been a long, winding road for the young warrior. The last year has not been kind, neither to himself, nor the countryside. It seems that crime and chaos were slowly growing, almost daily. Yong was happy to be able to return to his village and relax, hopefully with the rest of his comrades and even Mr. Wu. Yong did not know what he put into his noodles, but it seemed that all other meals were inferior by comparison.
Walking towards the small shack that the Wu family used as their restaurant, he thought he heard his old friend, Wu-Yao, speaking...
The Wudang swordsman frowns at Wu-Yao's suggestion of force. He was hoping to avoid an incident, but this one was perhaps inevitable. Knowing all-too-well how this could turn out, and still unwilling to simply resort to violence without trying its alternatives, Flying Sword turned to Mr. Hu, continuing to thumb his prayer beads. "Mister Hu, please fetch me a brush, paper and ink. Then go and tell your motherless outlaws and their 'Demon Spawn' Qiang that I would like to propose to them a wager - but that I will only provide the details of it in person."
Wu-Yao raises an eyebrow at Sword's request. "What type of plan are you hatching, Flying Sword? Are you seeking to trick them somehow?"
Turning the last corner, Yong hears his companion Wu-Yao speak his last phrase, and sees old Mr. Hu rising back to his feet. After exchanging brief pleasantries all around, he turns to Wu and says "What is this that I heard you say? Something about a trick?"
"No trick," Flying Sword assures Wu-Yao, while giving a quick salute to Zhang Yong "it will be a fair wager, and they will be free not to accept. While they are deciding, however, if you and Zhang cut off their retreat back into Mr. Hu's, they will have an important decision to make." He smiled and continued to thumb the beads, causing them to move slowly in a sloppy spiral around his forearm.
Mr. Hu doesn't have to be told twice, and disappears into the restaurant to carry out your instructions. After what seems like too long an interval he returns with some crude writing implements.
Mr. Hu looks more frightened than ever.
"He.. that is... I was told to invite you all in to dine with the other... guests... and Demon Spawn Qiang will happily discuss your wager. Please be careful. I would not blame you if you all took your leave at this time."
"We will not be taking our leave until we are fed! And we came here to eat your fine food, Mr.Hu. No worries, we'll take care of this. Flying Sword, please, indulge us. What are the details of your wager? If it becomes necessary, perhaps I can cast a spell to make the man more... amenable."
Chu Zhu Ji raises her eyebrows in anticipation of Flying Sword’s idea. She knows how creative and surprising he can be after years of dueling against him and fighting alongside him.
”Demon Spwan Qiang? she says the name, thinking if sounds familiar. ”It doesn’t sound like he’s using it ironically if he’s causing trouble with Mr. Hu.”
You don't know of anyone in the area by that or any similar name, but you have all been away for a year. There have always been bands of armed men in the borderlands, he could easily be some bandit leader with pretensions of greatness.
It's impossible to tell until you can find some other members of the Wulin and catch up with current events.
"Who is this 'Demon s@~~' Qiang, anyway? If he is claiming to be the dung of a demon, then he cannot possibly be an honorable man." Turning to Mr. Hu, Yong says "We will find a way to clean your floors of the offensive dung, Mr. Hu. The honor of your noodles is at stake!" Yong says this with a straight face. He is very serious about this offense to his friend, Mr. Hu's family, and to his own palate.
Flying Sword smiles at Zhang Yong's brashness, but takes a more measure approach, and turns to Wu-Yao. "The wager is a simple one. I will write a word, and if Demon Spawn Qiang can understand it, I will not pressure him to leave. If he cannot understand its meaning, then he must go. If you feel charming him will make him more accepting of this wager, go ahead. But, do not break his trust, or he will not honor our wager."
The swordsman thanks Mr. Hu and takes the crude brush and paper. These implements would suffice, as Demon Spawn Qiang was decidedly more thuggish than any of the Imperial Dynasty or the Courts.
He lays down the paper, brush and ink on a nearby black laquered table. He lays the Black Metal Sword aside the brush, uncorks the ink and regards the paper for a moment before picking up the brush and going to work.
When he's finished, Flying Sword gestures to the page. "Look."
”Once more proving that in the hands of a master, the simplest tools can produce extraordinary results. It was an honor to watch, Flying Sword.” She salutes him as a mark of respect. ”Should he understand it, would your honor allow you to persuade his followers to leave?
”Mr. Hu, besides Demon Spawned Qiang, how many other men are here?”
"Besides Demon Spawn there are ten strong men, all well armed."
Flying Sword smiles and nods at Chu Zhi Ji. "It is my belief that if he understands, there will be no need for further persuasion. We will have reminded him of the Xia and that will suffice. His followers are an extension of himself. He will not allow them to continue to disrespect Mr. Hu. If his followers respect or fear him, they will comply. If they do not, he will join us in an inevitable fight against them.
In either case, my wager will only be between myself, or ourselves if we all agree, and Demon Spawn Qiang. His men will not need inclusion, as their courses are already seen and considered."
"This sounds like a bold, yet honorable plan. I can see no fault with the wager, and I will agree with being included. Let us hope the demon spawn will understand what the Xia is in the first place."
You all see the wisdom in Flying Sword's plan, and decide to proceed with it. Mr. Hu skulks uneasily behind you as the four of you cross the threshold into the restaurant.
The usual welcoming smells of your favorite dishes cooking are absent, replaced with the stink of a barbarian war camp. The bandits are running roughshod over the place, and have given the restaurant the overall sensory experience of a fetid swamp.
At the biggest table, seated on a chair that does not match the rest of the restaurant's furnishings, is a large man whose position of prominence suggests he is the much discussed "Demon Spawn" Qiang. Qiang has long unwashed black hair and an equally unkempt beard. The man is bare chested and half drunk, his torso covered in the grease from the various meats and poultry he has been gorging on.
Seated all around him, one in his lap, are three of Mr. Hu's four daughters looking absolutely terrified. They fill the leader's wine bowl and fetch him fresh dishes while the one remaining sister struggles to keep up with the demands of the remaining bandits.
"Demon Spawn" Qiang drinks wine with one hand, while his other hand gropes at his visibly uncomfortable female companion. He laughs like a lunatic at one of his own jokes, and bits of greasy chicken spray from his mouth.
Hanging from his left ear is a very expensive looking gold earring, and the massive curved blade sticking out of the wooden floor beside him seems finely wrought. He wears eight loose steel bracelets all along each forearm. Qiang also has the powerful look in his eyes of someone who has cultivated his qi. He obviously knows kung fu.
Aside from "Demon Spawn" you can see ten other bandits in total in the restaurant, just as Mr. Hu reported. They are all eating and drinking at their own tables. The food and drink laid out are some of the best the restaurant has to offer, and the piles of empty plates tell a story of prolonged gluttony.
Five of them are eating on the lower level with the leader, and another four are up on the balcony level about ten feet up playing cards. The balcony wraps all the way around the main dining hall and is accessed by a wooden staircase. There are, for obvious reasons, no other customers present. None of the other bandits has the look of someone with very strong kung fu but they're drunk and sitting so it can be hard to tell.
The girls don't notice you as you come in, but Mrs. Hu sees you from behind the counter and smiles in spite of herself, before a look of worry swallows it again.
Mr. Hu comes in just behind you, wringing his hands nervously.
Qiang notices you almost as soon as you enter. He waves you over to his table.
"I hear you four are tigers!" he enthuses "Wonderful! I always find myself most at home with other wild animals. Come. Sit. Join us."
"Yes, we are tigers, on the hunt for food! I myself could smell Mr. Hu's noodles clear over the horizon and came running as fast as I could." Yong shows his fiercest grin, showing an expanse of teeth that could easily tear meat apart.
"Yes, we are tigers, on the hunt for food! I myself could smell Mr. Hu's noodles clear over the horizon and came running as fast as I could." Yong shows his fiercest grin, showing an expanse of teeth that could easily tear meat apart.
Qiang laughs drunkenly at Zhang's joke, dribbling out wine-colored spittle as he does so.
"If you are hungry, then join us! Sit! Eat! If it is noodles you want then noodles you shall have," the expression in his voice immediately changes "BAOZHAI! NOODLES! THE BEST ONES! NOW!"
Hu Baozhai, the third Hu daughter, leaps to her feet and rushes to the kitchen like her life depends on it.
Chu Zhu Ji glowers at the minions of Demon Spawn as she enters the restaurant. The squalor on display signifies how low these people are. To treat Mr. Hu’s daughters like that is an insult! The handling of the situation would reflect upon not only the Four Tigers but their shifu as well. Maintaining a calm expression, she bows, saluting.
”Waving Grass Harmony, student of Lee Sun-tsi,” her voice bellows like thunder on the spring plains.
”Waving Grass Harmony, student of Lee Sun-tsi,”
Qiang shoos the girl from his lap and stands up, returning the salute.
"Of course you are. Which would make you her partner Dark Sword," he says, as he points at him "Or are you Flying Sword? Perhaps I shall call you Two Swords?" He laughs again, and this time manages to avoid spilling any food "Your snake means you must be Wu-Yao of the snake cave village, and that would mean my new friend here is Zhang Yong of the Shaolin. Your heroic deeds are well known in the borderlands, how could I not recognize the Four Tigers?"
He smiles warmly, but his expression cannot hide the predatory look on his face.
"I am Liu Qiang, although my friends call me "Demon Spawn" because my uncle the kung fu master "Heretic Plague God" has trained me since birth. I am of no sect for "Heretic Plague God" has no Shifu, nor any other students."
He waves his arms theatrically at the many empty seats at his table.
"Now that we are all friends, I entreat you please to sit. Your refusal of my hospitality is causing me embarrassment."
You can tell by his manner and his speech that he was raised in polite society, in spite of his current association with these wild bandits.
Flying Sword smiles absently as he is led to the table, and spends a moment looking around. His expression is one of calm, as though he were having a stroll on a pleasant day, and does not belie his true feelings for the state of Mr. Hu's.
He salutes and his faint smile twists into a grin at the mention of being called Two Swords, and he takes Liu Qiang's invitation to sit, taking a seat opposite Qiang and placing the Black Metal Sword on his left as a sign of honor and trust.
"My apologies, 'Demon Spawn'. It was not my intent to embarrass anyone. I am, indeed, Flying Sword. To those familiar with Light Sword and Dark Sword, I am known as Dark Sword. I am flattered that you have heard of my fellows and I. It speaks well to our reputations and to your own." He hesitates for only a moment, as he choses the right wording. "Before I allow you to regail me with the stories of your youth and your training, if you would so indulge me, I wish to discuss my proposed wager."
He adjusts in his seat, leaning slightly forward and engaging into the conversation, while keeping clear of the dirty plates and food remnants scattered about. "My wager is a simple one, and it will further demonstrate the lessons you have learned. As you likely know, I am somewhat of a calligrapher, and," he takes out the paper from his vest, folded four ways, "I have written you a challenge. If you understand what I have written, I will indulge your company and will not attempt to oust you from the House of Drunken Immortals. If you fail to understand what I have written, then you must leave."
The swordsman leans even farther forward, regarding Qiang with the intensity of a man already engaged in battle. "Do you accept?" he queries, a hand on the paper, ready to hand it over.
The swordsman leans even farther forward, regarding Qiang with the intensity of a man already engaged in battle. "Do you accept?" he queries, a hand on the paper, ready to hand it over.
"Have I not been friendly and hospitable to you? And still you wish to eject me from my new favorite restaurant? Very well, Two Swords, I accept your challenge. However, if the reason that I cannot read what you have written is that your calligraphy is too clumsy, I will only be able to take it as a sign that Wudang swordplay has become sloppy and imprecise."
He grins.
"And if you lose, you all have to have dinner with me."
Sword parries with a grin of his own and slides the paper across the table to Qiang. "I would expect nothing less."
With a look of triumphant smugness Qiang takes the paper, convinced that his intellect is being underestimated.
He takes the paper and straightens it with a flick of his hand. Then, like a candle in a bonfire, the look of smugness melts from his face. His face begins to turn redder and redder.
He tears the paper in half.
"You win, I cannot read this Wudang chicken scratch!" he booms, his mood clearly ruined.
"We are leaving," he announces to his men "The ambiance here was ruined anyway. We'll leave this wreck to the four kittens."
The bandits begin to gather their gear.
A simple nod of respect is given to Demon Spawn Qiang, whom Flying Sword sees in a somewhat new light despite the masking of Qiang's embarrassment for being called out on his behavior.
Though Sword eases somewhat as Qiang and his bandits gather their gear to leave, he makes no move to disrupt their exodus whatsoever. He regards the torn paper and contemplates its power versus the fist, or the blade.
Mr. Hu has tabulated the bandit's rather large bill. Weeks worth of mindless gluttony will do that.
"Um, if you, please, if you could..." he whispers.
He obviously doesn't want to present "Demon Spawn" with the bill.
Yong watches the display with great interest, sitting down when Demon Spawn offers a place. He shows little emotion throughout this, although Yong is secretly pleased that at least one more of the daughters are out of harm's way if combat were to ensue. He stays quiet throughout the exchange; Yong knows that he was last to the meeting, and does not want to jeopardize Flying Sword's plan by potentially speaking out of turn.
From the start, Yong believes that Demon Spawn, although showing the polite mannerisms typically taught in the monastery, he is still unlikely to be an honorable man. He takes casual glances at the others in the room to access whether they could hold their own in combat. Yong comes away generally unimpressed; their numbers could be a hinderance, especially if they try to take hostages. However, unless they used any meaningful tactics, he was sure that the motley group could be bested.
Yong is not surprised by Demon Spawn's outburst at his attempts to read the calligraphy. He is, however, mildly surprised that Demon Spawn actually honors his part of the wager (sulkily, but nonetheless). As Demon Spawn stands, Yong will look at him and ask, "Demon Spawn, may I ask that you join me in a dinner of noodles and saki before you leave?"
"I have eaten enough of the pigswill from this glorified noodle cart," replies Demon Spawn, mixing his metaphor "The terrible food here had caused me to become sluggish but it is past time I saw to business."
"No matter, perhaps we shall meet again."
Flying Sword looks slyly between Wu-Yao and Chu Zhu Li. "Now might be a good time to get him to pay, Wu-Yao."
"Now might be a good time to get him to pay, Wu-Yao."
Unbeknownst to Flying Sword, while Qiang was conversing with the others, Wu-Yao had been subtly gathering the mystic energies necessary to put a mild whammy on "Demon Spawn". Just enough to make him more... amicable to doing the right thing.
Wu-Yao releases the magic, and it strikes out at the mind of "Demon Spawn" Qiang. The man shakes his head for a moment, as though clearing it of a bad thought.
Wu-Yao grins and motions to his sworn siblings that the deed is done.
With a quick bow, Wu-yao takes the bill from Mr.Hu and briefly locks eyes with his comrades. With his back turned to them, he uses the bustle of the bandits getting their gear to discreetly cast a spell. He glides with confidence toward Qiang.
"Excuse me sir, on behalf of the house I respectfully request you settle your tab before you depart."
He bows and hands Qiang the bill.
Chu Zhu Ji’s strides are fluid and quick, moving as fast walking as some can run. She stands to the side of the exit. ”I too must insist that you pay. Surely your honor demands that as well,” she says as she salutes Demon Spawn Qiang.
"Yes, I must settle my tab. Honor demands it. Thank you for the advice. Although we could not come out of our encounter today as friends I hope we shall meet again under more pleasant circumstances.
The bandits begin to give each-other queer looks, and they only become more surprised when Qiang actually makes good on his promise. He takes the bill presented to him, carefully counts out each gold, silver and copper coin before placing them into Mr. Hu's hand.
Then, with a friendly salute, Demon Spawn and his utterly confused minions take their leave of the House of Drunken Immortals.
There is a pregnant pause, as the Hu family waits to make sure that the bandits have left earshot. Then, suddenly and in unison, they begin to cheer and laugh. Mrs. Hu and one of her daughters begin hugging and crying.
"Down, down... says Mr. Hu in a hushed tone.
The Hu family all fall to their knees and bow before you all.
"I cannot thank you all enough for what you have done for my family today. You saved our restaurant and our lives. If there is ever anything we can do to repay a fraction of this kindness please never hesitate to ask."
He hides the emotion in his voice for the most part, but tears are dripping to the ground.
After the awkward show of humility, Mr. Hu is in high spirits.
"Now there is much to do. The restaurant must be cleaned and food prepared for your feast. I will not have it said that dog-mothered bandit worms were served better at the House of Drunken Immortals than the Four Demon-Slaying Tigers. I WILL NOT!"
The Hu family springs into action at once. Mr. Hu and Hu Baozhai rush into town to acquire supplies while Mrs. Hu and her other daughters straighten up after the bandits. All of your attempts to help are politely but firmly rebuffed and you are forced to sit at a table and drink tea while they bustle about cleaning. Mrs. Hu lights some incense to deal with the smell.
Word of your return spreads fast, aided by the two Hu family gossips having gone to town with a new story. Before long Mr. Hu returns with a large pig, five chickens, the Butcher, his wife, his apprentice, his wife, their toddler son, and some very good rice wine from the bigger restaurant in town.
The Butcher, Xie Jing, was once a secular student of Shaolin and is known to you, especially Zhang Yong. He tries to apply the fundamental concepts of kung fu to the art of butchery, and is always happy to discuss the subject. His apprentice, always very skeptical of much of his master's kung fu talk, is enthralled by the fact that he does indeed know you all.
Hu Baozhai returns with vegetables, rice, and three of her best friends. None of them works up the courage to speak a word to any of you.
Before you know it the House of Drunken Immortals is full of food cooking and people laughing and drinking once more. The food is made of the finest ingredients the city has to offer and cooked with meticulous care. It is some of the best you've ever had.
The improvised party is well underway when Mr. Hu comes to Chu Zhu Ji in private.
"In all this excitement it had slipped my mind, but I have a sort of message for you. Two people, a man and a woman, came here about two months ago looking for you. They seemed nice enough although they were dressed like beggars. They told me that when next I saw you, I was to give you this:"
He holds out a dried up, slightly cracked, but impressively maintained star lotus.
"And that you should meet them, that is to say, under the bridge.
There are several bridges in Duolunduo, but "the bridge" could only refer to the very large wooden one that spans the Green River, which marks the end of the undisputed imperial territory.
"They said that you would understand all of this, and that they would wait for you. I cannot say for sure if they are still here. You were gone a long time."
Yong cannot believe the speed to which the Hu family works. The place looks almost brand new before the townsfolk begin to arrive. He does offer to help with the cleaning, but is gently, firmly rebuffed by the wife of Mr. Hu. Yong sits at his assigned table, drinking green tea, and reminising about his last visit to this land. When Xie Jing arrives, Yong is surprised, but pleased to see the gentleman, and discusses many local topics while Jing prepares the pig, Shaolin style .
As the impromptu party goes on, Yong eats bowlful after bowlful of noodles, rice, and ham bits, savoring the flavor combinations, until he is nearly stuffed to the gills. Despite this, Yong ensures that he walks round and talks to the various townspeople, to find out what he has missed over the last year.
Flying Sword sits, meditating on the day's events and slowly sipping tea for much of the cleaning and hubbub, accepting of the praise with humility, and satisfied with the results of Qiang's departure.
He is no longer the boisterous or gregarious sort that he once was, and so makes no movement to engage the townsfolk in superfluous conversation - seeking only simple and practical words with the folk, such as "Please fetch more green tea," "Zhang Yong could use more rice," and "No, I was unaware that your cousin is a calligrapher for an Imperial dignitary."
He eats lightly, as is normal for him, focusing on grilled veggies and chicken, with rice, enjoying the jubilation which seems to have sprung to life in the House of Drunken Immortals.
When Xie Jing arrives, Yong is surprised, but pleased to see the gentleman, and discusses many local topics while Jing prepares the pig, Shaolin style.
Skanda Evil Subduing Swordplay, although not originally intended to do so, proves to be an excellent method of carving ham. Obviously attempting to impress, Jing carves the pig with flourish and aplomb. A few of those who watch the demonstration clap afterwards.
As the impromptu party goes on, Yong eats bowlful after bowlful of noodles, rice, and ham bits, savoring the flavor combinations, until he is nearly stuffed to the gills. Despite this, Yong ensures that he walks round and talks to the various townspeople, to find out what he has missed over the last year.
While his sworn siblings were away cultivating qi in the steppes, and Zhang Yong was back at the Shaolin temple receiving additional training from his shifu, the borderlands have grown more and more chaotic. While it might be flattering to think that the presence of the Four Demon-Slaying Tigers was such a stabilizing influence on the region the increased banditry and other subversive activity points to something else: the empire is losing it's grip on the region.
More predictably there has been a slight increase in demonic activity in the past year. This you can likely attribute to your absence as the four of you are the regions most prolific demon hunters. Of particular concern is The Flesh That Walks At Midnight, which is some kind of reanimate corpse, and the hungry ghost of Unblemished Snow, a heretic Taoist wizard. Both are said to be active in the general area of Duolunduo, which is likely why they've attracted the attention of the locals.
You are able to get little news from the Wulin; Xie Jing is the closest thing to a Wulin fighter at the restaurant and he's more out of touch with the martial arts world than you are.
Since you were at a Shaolin temple instead of out in the steppes like your sworn siblings you're actually fairly caught up on the goings of the Wulin anyway.
Star lotus...star lotus,” Ji says with a slight crease between her eyebrows as she thinks deeply, searching her memory. After about ten seconds she gives a gasp; her mouth open for a moment of surprise that she turns into a faint smile.
”Ah, yes. Two months you say? Not so long in a person’s life. Under the bridge,” she says cradling the dried star lotus in the palm of her hand. ”Thank you for the message, Mr. Hu,” Ji bows.
She returns to the table, tucking the star lotus flower into her mostly empty money pouch.
”You missed the taste of the dry wind and the embrace of the sand, Zhang Yong. Water brings its greatest relief in the desert. Perhaps next time we can entice you out there. Tell us of the wulin? What have we missed while building our qi?”
After they catch up more, during a lull in the conversation, she says, ”My brothers, you may remember I’m an orphan. Before they died they taught me a song about the star lotus to help me remember that if I ever need help to find one and help would soon arrive.” She takes out the star lotus from her pouch and hands it to Flying Sword. ”Mr. Hu has been keeping this for me for the past two months. A man and woman, dressed like beggars, brought this for me. They request a meeting under the bridge. Would you like to accompany me in exploring this circumstance tomorrow?”
”You missed the taste of the dry wind and the embrace of the sand, Zhang Yong. Water brings its greatest relief in the desert. Perhaps next time we can entice you out there. Tell us of the wulin? What have we missed while building our qi?”
"Perhaps someday you might, Ji," Yong says with an amused smile. He then begins to fill her in on the conversations that were overheard.
After they catch up more, during a lull in the conversation, she says, ”My brothers, you may remember I’m an orphan. Before they died they taught me a song about the star lotus to help me remember that if I ever need help to find one and help would soon arrive.” She takes out the star lotus from her pouch and hands it to Flying Sword. ”Mr. Hu has been keeping this for me for the past two months. A man and woman, dressed like beggars, brought this for me. They request a meeting under the bridge. Would you like to accompany me in exploring this circumstance tomorrow?”
"I would be most interested to hear more from these beggars. Do you think that they will be at the bridge, after so long?"
"I would be most interested to hear more from these beggars. Do you think that they will be at the bridge, after so long?"
Duolunduo Bridge, or 'The Bridge' is a large covered wooden bridge leading into Duolunduo. It spans the Green River, which divides the orderly provinces of the empire from the unruly "barbarian" lands.
The large bridge provides some minimal shelter from the elements underneath, and the poorest of Duolunduo's poor can sometimes be found camping out under it. In lean times a virtual shanty town can spring up under the bridge, but it is the nature of these things that few inhabitants of the bridge live long. They are easy prey for robbers and creatures of the night.
It is evening by the time you arrive, the time when someone sleeping under the Bridge is most likely to be 'at home'. In the darkness the usually mundane blue waters of the Green River live up to their name.
You can see a small campfire underneath as you approach the Bridge, a very good sign. As you get closer you can make out three figures hunched around the fire, and smell chicken cooking. You are all quite full from your earlier feast or else it might have made you hungry.
Finally you get close enough to get a good look at the people under the bridge by the firelight. There are two men and a woman.
The man and woman do not look like beggars. They have well developed bodies that could not be maintained on a pauper's diet. Their clothes are simple, dirty and ragged, but well fitting and comfortable looking. The man is busy fussing with the chicken, which appears to be covered in mud and sitting directly on the fire.
The other man looks more like a proper beggar. His clothes are a mess of holes and stains, and his emaciated body looks like it was never bathed. When you get close his stink mixes with the chicken smell and the result does not make you any more hungry for chicken. He appears to be very old and when he opens his mouth you only count a single rotted tooth.
The woman looks up when you approach.
"We didn't steal this chicken. This is my chicken that I raised from an egg. Ask my husband."
"From an egg," agrees the man, not looking up from the chicken.
"Eggs!" concurs the old man.