Chen Wuya thrashed. Sweat broke out on his brow. His eyelids fluttered. Black gunk oozed out of his pores, staining his robes and the bedsheets below.

“A wet towel, now. If we leave the poison on him, it’ll reinfect him.”

“Anything for the hero!”

His eyes shut. He twitched, too hot, uncomfortable.

Dark skies. A harvest moon spilling brilliant light from on high. Music played, upbeat and thankful. Young girls danced before him, smiling, their robes flashing like flowers. A plate of satsumas laid before him, his own fruits. A strange emotion welled up from deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Cool softness passed over his body. He struggled, barely opening his eyes. The sensation passed. A shadow left.

He furrowed his brows and forced his eyes open.

The granny hovered over him, smiling. “Awake?”

“Wh… what…”

“Shh, rest. You’re badly poisoned. You need to sleep.”

Chen Wuya blinked. Heavy eyelids refused to reopen.

A thunderstorm. Lightning crashed all around. He trembled, unable to escape. Bushy top quavering, he sat in the field.

Run. Run!

I can’t do anything. If the Heavens strike me down now, I—

Other memories quivered, just out of his reach. The boom of thunder. Darkness. A brilliant flash and pain. Freezing cold, pounding rain. He thrashed, fighting against it. No! Stop! Stop, it hurts, it hurts, I don’t want—

“Calm down!”

He frowned, peeking through low eyelids. Fen Long held his wrists, frowning back at him. “You’re safe. You don’t need to fight.”

Light flashed. Thunder boomed, almost simultaneous. He flinched. His eyes flew open, and he fought upright, only for Fen Long to push him down again.

“You’re inside. It’s safe.”

Tension unwound from his muscles. His eyes shut again.

Heat. Burning, simmering heat. Inescapable, oppressive. His brows furrowed. Summer…

A white bird fluttered back to the tree, carrying a twig in its mouth. Brilliant sunlight beat down on the both of them, so hot his leaves withered, so dry his roots curled.

“Still all alone? You’re just like me,” he told the bird.

Unable to hear the tree’s voice, the bird settled next to its nest and began to wind the twig. Stiff, the twig fought back, resisting its efforts.

“Are you… Kai Bailong? Well… I don’t suppose you can hear me, even so.” The satsuma tree sighed. Its leaves shivered as if a wind ran through them, but no wind blew. “Is this your lesson? Is this what you wanted me to see?”

At last, the twig began to mold to shape. The bird drew the twig through harder, building it into the nest.

He chuckled. “Am I rehabilitated? I haven’t given up, though. I’ll protect this town, but I need to take down Heaven. Everything else is secondary.”

The bird stumbled back, caught by a sudden breeze. The twig snapped free. It flapped its wings, then swooped back in, determined. Using claws and beak together, it finally fixed the twig in place.

Gazing out over what had once been a wasteland, Qiu Xuanwu let out a groan. “I can’t waste any more time here. I need to—”

Chen Wuya jolted awake with a start. He sat up, panting. “Where…”

“You’re awake! Welcome back, hero!” The granny rushed into the room, excited.

“Huh?” Half-awake, Chen Wuya pushed his hair back. It mussed around his head, a mess of bedhead, wild as a bird’s nest.

She clasped his hand. “The other hero told me. You cleansed the poison, didn’t you? Thank you. Anything I can do, please, just ask.”

Chen Wuya climbed out of bed. The granny hovered, nervous. He stumbled to the door of the room. “Kai Bailong, you bastard. I know it’s you!”

“The other hero? He left days ago, once he’d finished negating the poison. He said you only needed to sweat it out from there,” the granny said, looking up at him.

“Eh?” Chen Wuya blinked, startled. After he hung around for so long, I was sure Fen Long was Kai Bailong. But… he left? Kai Bailong never leaves. He’s so annoying, always sticking like glue, watching my every move to make sure I don’t misbehave. He’d never let me out of his sight.

His brows furrowed. Maybe I was wrong.

“He’s awake?”

Chen Wuya turned. The young woman stood in the hallway, the same baby wrapped against her body. It looked at him and laughed, gurgling.

“Weren’t you leaving?” he asked bluntly.

She laughed. “Now that the poison’s gone, there’s no need to. Our fields are free of poison, our child is safe… the village is small, but it’s quiet and safe, too. I like it here. I wanted to raise my children here, before everything. Thank you for giving me that opportunity.”

She bowed, sincerely, holding her child close.

He nodded. A faint smile appeared on his face for a moment, only to vanish the next. He bowed to the grandmother. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It was nothing, nothing at all. Your friend did most of the work,” she said, shaking her head.

“For giving me a place to stay, then,” he said, still bowing.

“Ah, ah, there’s no need for that. I’m only an ordinary old woman,” the grandma said. Still, she smiled, clearly pleased.

Retrieving his red robes, Chen Wuya stepped back into the room to change. He gathered his few belongings, then moved to leave.

“Not even staying for a meal?” the grandma asked.

Chen Wuya shook his head. “There’s something I need to do.”

“You boys always say that,” she replied, tutting.

“Wait!”

At the door, he paused, looking back.

The young woman returned, this time with a man at her side. He bowed to Chen Wuya and held out a wrapped package. “It’s not much, but please accept our gratitude.”

Bowing in return, he accepted it silently.

The man turned away, an arm looped around the woman. The woman hesitated one moment longer, resisting his grip. “You… the poison… We spoke to exorcists, we spoke to martial artists. No one could cleanse these lands. How did you manage it? Who are you?”

Chen Wuya scoffed. “A wandering swordsman, that’s all.” He slung the package over his shoulder and stepped out into the day.

Sighing, he gazed up at the sun and shook his head. Who would believe I’m actually Qiu Xuanwu, the calamitous god they fear?

Down the road and up a hill, he paused. The town stood quietly, still run down. Dilapidated houses, dilapidated fields. But now a meadow stretched where a wasteland had before. Distantly, the small forms of the young man and woman took to a part of the meadow, carving out a field to grow their crops. The village showed signs of life, however faint.

At the line between the village and the meadow, a bushy tree spread green leaves into the sky, orange fruits peeking from between broad leaves. A white bird nestled in its branches, head cocked against the winds.

Chen Wuya blinked. Nothing but a black stump remained, crumbled and dead.

A smile touched his lips for just a moment. Chen Wuya turned away, ragged hair flying after him. He descended the hill, vanishing out of sight.