II

Crossroad

The visage twisted in its own bloodied shadow stared down at me. Its grin scarred over its face as the clattering of its teeth and laughter rang about. The entire world around us joined the shadow at the height of its mirth.

I rang for air, struggling against the whirlpool engulfing me. The water was high enough to keep me gasping, but not enough for me to drown in it. Its sharp current cut away at my flesh; my own blood tinging the waters red. There was no escape. Mercy, I pleaded, but there was nothing.

'Not yet,' as if speaking to itself, as if trying to convince its impatient self, the shadow's voice struggled past its laughter. 'No, not yet...'

The whirlpool faded. Drenched in the blood of my wounds, I watched the shadow drawing closer. Crack. I screamed without a sound when one of my legs broke away like a twig. Delight echoed around. Crack. It wasn't pain that filled my throat, only fear.

The shadow blurred together with the world. Time and space stretched into an endless circus - I, its sole entertainer. It continued on. My legs wouldn't take me away from it any longer. Even after the shadow disappeared, it echoed. It wouldn't stop. That cursed laughter. That sound of my own that wouldn't ever let me rest. How I detest it.

***

"Look, the lad's sweating strange."

I woke up, screaming and gasping in an unfamiliar alley with bruises on my body. How did I get here? My memories were hazy, replaced by the fresh images of the nightmare. Slowly, the fragments of the day before returned to me. A few had followed me from the Guild to beat me up. It might have been old grudges, or something else. Their precise reasons eluded me, but I figured they'd had plenty. I glanced around, squinting against the rising sun as I felt beneath me. Bags of trash. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"Hush, calm down," someone whispered, the rough voice spurring me awake rather than lulling me back into sleep as it had probably hoped to achieve.

"Just hurry up, you daft, before he comes to himself!" Another spoke as I felt a pull on my robe. I should struggle, I mused, fight even when bruised. I would easily get away if I tried.

But why bother? The thought occurred to me. What would I do then? Nothing. So, I might as well do nothing now.

"What's all this ruckus?" A voice broke through the bickering, stopping the hands tugging at my robe. "Look at you guys, swarming around a young man like a pack of vultures. Have you no shame?"

"None!" The voices rang out in unison.

"Good!" The man laughed heartily. "But you know the rules. No stealing among ourselves. If he's a newcomer, treat him properly," he knelt down, helping me to sit up straight. I didn't make it easy for him. I spit out the accumulated blood in my mouth, the taste of it carrying too many unwanted memories. When I revealed no intentions of recognizing his presence, the man grabbed me by the chin, pulling my head into his gaze.

A green hue surrounded his eyes, and I noticed a single pupil shaped like a slit. My mind studied the implication on its own. Another beastling. One who had recently built his foundation since his beast-essence hadn't fully assimilated into a part of his own yet.

Many would call him trash - someone beneath notice. Not long ago, I'd have.

"Any parents?" He said, moving my face like studying a pig for sale. "No? You're a refugee, then? Where are you from? Guangen?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Oh?" He smirked, tightening his grip around my jaw. "At least, you're not mute. Don't want to answer, that's fine by me. But, my, I have to say that robe of yours doesn't come cheap. Who did you steal it from?"

I spit in his face. His grin faded, and I found my head shoved against the concrete before I knew better. A sharp pain echoed in my skull, beckoning its like from the day before. What was I thinking doing that?

"Alright, not here for us, not part of us," he clicked his tongue, "that robe should fetch us a good amount of pellets. One-eye, toss him a new set of clothing. We aren't so heartless to leave him naked now, are we?"

My name alone could've solved the problem, but I let them do as they pleased. They took off my robe, leaving a few old rags in its stead before taking off.

I sank back down into the rubbish, where I festered like mould. I remembered the nightmare. The sect. My family. The trash began smelling worse as the sun rose high. I think I found a twisted sort of pleasure in this. A kind of satisfaction taken from punishment. It was what I deserved.

No one wanted me any longer. No one needed me. I had no one but myself to blame for it.

***

It was already past noon when thirst got my body to move. I was figuring out how to pay for some water when a carriage almost ran me over. The driver shouted obscenities at me before he went on with his business. I'd scratched my knees, and my robe was worse for the wear, yet there was no groveling. No begging for my forgiveness. No reimbursing me. Far from it, he hadn't even apologized.

The people I passed all took a wide turn. Eventually, a pair of guards took hold of me, telling me to get off the streets. When I asked them where I was supposed to go, they shrugged. Anywhere else but here.

As a whim of their kindness, or as a part of their duty, they gave me a few copper coins, which I accepted. It was surprisingly easy to reconcile the thought. Yet, it'd taken me a while to find a stall that accepted my patronage. A beggar's coin, it seemed, was worth less than others, even if it was made of the same.

I guessed that by 'anywhere,' they'd meant a place out of sight, so I headed back into the alleyways. The city was ripe with them. They connected the different districts like a net, sprouting without any apparent design. In that labyrinth of seemingly hundreds of different possibilities, I took that single, small gap, leading me south towards the sun.

The wind blasted against my face as I stumbled over bags of trash and past beggars of all kinds. Few of them had that haggard look about them. They looked healthy even. Some had darker skin. Others, blonde or ashen hair, all rarely seen around here. What had made them take the journey across the vast continent? Was it just to beg? Or were they like me? I doubted the last one.

"Help!" It was quite the scream that disrupted the harmony of the city. One out of breath that still travelled far. "Please, somebody, help me!"

Chasing after her own echo was a young girl in the remnants of her white dress. The bottom half was torn to shreds, revealing her dirtied legs. She didn't wear any shoes; her bloodied feet taking the brunt of her frenzied run. A red sash was tied around her waist. It fluttered behind her as if separating two halves of different worlds.

Her upper body was clad in the finest embroidery. The remaining half of a golden dragon coiled around her torso, squirming in her haste as if alive. A jade necklace sculptured into scales jingled in tune to her wheezing chest.

For a moment, I was struck still. Something about her captivated me. Her frantic running. The contrasting image of a peasant beggar and noble merged into one. While anyone in the vicinity turned away from her in a hurry, I alone didn't. Our gazes met, and her eyes widened. Before I knew it, she arrived before, sinking into my arms. I caught her out of reflex.

"Please, help me," she begged, gasping as she looked up at me. Tears streamed down her quivering eyes, and snot rant down her nose. The faintest glimmer of hope lit up her face. It was sorely misplaced. In the distance behind her, I caught sight of three men heading towards us, shoving away anyone standing in their path.

"Ask somebody else," I said and turned away, but she refused to let go of my sleeve, tearing the loose robe off my body.

"I did," she panted, searching for my attention, "I did, I did, I did! Everyone I saw! But..."

"I apologize, but it's none of my concern."

It was harsh. She had my pity, but that was it. Her words barely registered in my mind. In a world where one act could lead to a hundred feuds, it was better not to get entangled. It was the elders' lessons that guided my thinking. Something drilled into me for as long as I could remember.

Never intervene.

"Please," she cried as her grip loosened, "I can't keep running anymore. I can't ask... anyone else. You're the only one who..." Her legs gave out beneath her at last. "Everyone else didn't even look. They all turned away, ignoring me..."

I halted. My thoughts reeled, and I took my first detailed look at her. Up close, she was ugly, crying like that. Her makeup was wasted and her hair a complete mess, falling out of its carefully crafted bindings.

You're the only one...

But the melody of her voice rung like that of a fairy sent by the heavens with the message of my salvation.

"I'm the only one...." I kept muttering until it dawned on me. The girl looked behind her with short-lived panic. She hung her head in solemn acceptance without any tears left to shed. Her feet wouldn't take her anywhere. They had to be treated soon. There was nothing she could do.

"Alright," I nodded, something resembling a smile tugging at my lips, "I will help you."

"...What?" Her head moved sluggishly, her eyes telling me she couldn't believe it. They searched for the reason why anyone would make such a cruel joke.

"Hide over there," I pushed her away before her chasers arrived in front of me. They ignored me as they tried to walk past.

"Pardon my insolence," I stood in their way, "but this ends here."

It was a strange situation. A bunch of thugs chasing after a girl. Whatever their reasons, they didn't bother enlightening me with it, nor would I have spared them the time to listen. One of them glanced at me and scoffed.

"Move," he tried to grab me, but I brushed his hand aside.

His second attempt wasn't as gentle. The men appeared like the kind of people that used their fists to make a living. Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover. Our first exchange had been telling enough for me. They weren't cultivators, though neither was I anymore.

Before he reached back with his arm, my fist crushed his nose. I kicked the stunned man away from me, focusing on his startled companions. In a few moves, it became obvious to me that none of them had received any formal training in the martial arts. I barely needed to focus. My body glided between their strikes as if I was doing an old routine by myself. All of their attacks went wide. In between them, I chipped away at their soft spots, where no amount of muscle would guard them against my strikes.

When the first thug regained his bearings again, a sweep of my leg flew against his neck, knocking him off his feet for good. All three of them lay splayed out on the ground, moaning in pain. Hurt as it might, I was careful not to cause any permanent damage. I didn't know who I was dealing with.

"How beautiful!" The girl gasped with astonishment. Throughout the encounter, I'd felt her curious gaze fixated on me. A feeling of pride welled up within me, but I squashed it. I'd already had an overdose of that.

"It's as if you were dancing!"

"That's because they were weak," I grit my teeth as the image of a shadow flashed through my mind. "A real fight is nothing like that."

"Oh," her head sunk, and she flinched back. Was my tone too harsh? Her eyes kept flickering with apprehension towards my hands, so I looked down. Ah. Qi wasn't reinforcing my body as well as it used to.

"Don't worry about it," I said curtly, shaking off the blood oozing from my scraped knuckles, but it did little to ease her. "So... what now? Should I get you treated, or do you want me to take you back home?"

She shook her head to both, her fingers playing with the torn fringes of her robe. "There's something else... No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask any more of you."

"I won't mind."

She was more surprised than the first time I'd agreed.

"Really?" I gave her my word, to which she replied with a loud cheer that blended in with her laughter.

"I'm Shieyin Mei," she jumped into my arms with renewed energy, burying her face deep into my chest without hesitation. There was no apprehension left in her.

"But just call me Mei!"

"I'm Shin."

"Thank you, Shin," she wiped away a budding tear, "I'm so happy I met you!"

There I was, my fists stained in fresh blood, wearing a beggar's attire. In the city of legends, holding a girl who seemed somehow more pitiful than me in my arms. Her robe was in tatters, her makeup was still wasted, and her hair was still a mess. But it didn't matter because all she needed was that honest smile of hers to shine brighter than the light of this city.