‘‘Don‘t forget,‘‘ Li Bo whispered behind him. ‘‘Stick close, be aware, strike-‘‘

Forest resounded with whistles and booms of steps, and Qi roared to the sky in colors of red and black. From the feeble light on his forearm Zhang Cai saw the seven below stride up, the seven above leap down, and those left and right jump at them tree by tree.

‘‘-To kill!‘‘

One moment flashed by, Zhang Cai brandished his blade above his head, and seven pairs of limbs struck him.

Three pushed down his dark blade to his face, two slammed his right, another two slammed his left shoulder. He took three steps back, muscles tingling, and his head spun from the shock. But it did not hurt much. No, it was weak. The impact was so much weaker than the Xian, he found it shocking. But also furious, angry.

In his fury he pushed two pulls of Qi to his feet, supporting its firmness with Earth inside, and swung the whole leg at the figures frozen in air.

‘‘Fuck off!‘‘

Arms rose in guard and legs clamped together to protect, and the seven demonics took his strike together. Each shot down with insane speed and crashed on the trunks and roots and the ground beyond his sight. A loud boom, a crack, and a tree came falling to their right.

Two seconds, in bated breath, Zhang Cai waited for a response. Nothing came back.

They should be alright, he told himself and turned back. Any cultivator should be able to survive that.

He saw Li Huan slicing a demonic into two. Blood drenched her clothes and her flame-lit blade. She took a glimpse at him, winked, and shot forth. One swing, she cut off the raised fist of a demonic, and with two more she cut off his legs and kicked him down from the tree. Another step, she was away into the darkness chasing another.

‘‘Don‘t!‘‘ He shouted. ‘‘Don‘t separate!‘‘

A wretched feeling welled up from the pit of his stomach, but he held it in. One glance cast at his back, and another to Li Bo smashing the skulls of people with ease, he chased after Li Huan.

He leaped branch to branch and followed her small back. ‘‘Don‘t stray too far, junior sister!‘‘

‘‘No worries!‘‘ She shouted back. A demonic fell from above, in pieces like the others, her expression still warped in agony. Zhang Cai struck at his own chest, beat down the mushy, creepy, disgusting thing attempting to flow out.

You fucking don‘t!

‘‘Zishen!‘‘ Li Bo shouted after them. ‘‘Junior brother! Stay!‘‘

Li Huan stabbed at thin air and a storm brewed in front of her sword. The blade crackled, winds gathered, and a whirlwind shot out whistling throughout the forest. Leaves rustled, screams echoed, and a few lame thuds sounded in front of them.

‘‘Okay!‘‘ she said and skipped back.

Zhang Cai stared beyond the darkness. He tilted his arm a few centimeters up, illuminating the edge of his vision, but then dropped it. He took out the bamboo torch and broke it into two pieces, then threw it down.

He followed the little girl back and met Li Bo in the middle of a bloody scenery full of blooming organs spilling the dear red out of their bosom. Zhang Cai saw a heart akin to his own, stabbed on an offshoot, dyed black from Qi but also cherry like innocent in crimson that flowed down. It did not beat, and it definitely did not beat, but it existed there. On a single shoot, a small dike made out of its contents, and he imagined his own heart in his chest still beating, pumping out that same blood to his arms and legs and his head.

Why did that heart came to be stuck on that random place, and he happened to see it, and he empathized with it; understanding its agony and how unwilling it must be to remain there and not in a human body in a human chest, desiring to beat again full of sweet blood and life.

‘‘That seven,‘‘ Li Bo said. ‘‘Did you take care of them?‘‘

That seven was such a simple sentence. That seven. Just that seven. Those numbers. Not lives, not people, not cultivators, but seven.

‘‘I...don‘t know.‘‘ Zhang Cai rubbed his shoulder. But his eyes did not leave that drying heart. ‘‘I don‘t fucking know.‘‘

He didn‘t know how Li Bo or Li Huan looked at him. But he knew they had another indifferent glance at them. They had to. Or perhaps a little curiosity as to why he couldn‘t raise his head. Nothing more. Not the same kind of worry and disgust he had at their act.

He had a simple thought that came to his mind for a while, that they were not at the fault but this world was. That they had seen everything this way, and they were taught that the value of life was this much alone, and should be treated as much as this much was worth. But then he thought of himself, and how he learned by himself, how he realized it. He did not blame the world as well.

But there had to be someone, something responsible.

‘‘I will check up on them. You two stay here for a moment.‘‘

He heard the wind pick up, and the leaves rustled. Li Huan went past the edge of his sight and sat on a clear patch of the branch, shaking her legs, humming that familiar yet unknown song Li Bo and the courtesans sang many times.

Feeling the meal they had a few hours back churning in his belly, he asked for the first time.

‘‘What kind of song is it?‘‘

‘‘Uh? This? My mom sang it to us when we were little.‘‘ She said. ‘‘She sang it to a lot of us! Like, she would have concerts in the home. And everyone, from the slaves to my uncles would listen to her sing.‘‘

‘‘I see...‘‘ he said, left unanswered, but at least aware of the song‘s background.

A few seconds passed, and he heard Li Huan yelp.

‘‘Ah! It is about a deserter in the army.‘‘

‘‘I see. What does the deserter do?‘‘

‘‘Her husband dies in a battle, and they have a child waiting back home, so she flees. But she is not content, and on the way home she keeps struggling between going back and going forward. Something like...‘‘

She coughed, a little embarrassed, and sang it out loud in the Common Language.

‘‘There is honor in the field, is it not true?

There is warmth in home, is there not?

She thinks day and night, and she sleeps on fields empty of farmers,

Where she wakes up to have fields empty of crops.

No young men here, and no young women there,

No one mingling, nor drinking, and no singing.

She walks ten kilometers south, and she thinks of the field.

There is honor in the field, is it not true?

There is warmth in home, is there not?

She thinks day and night, and she sleeps near rivers empty of fish,

Where she wakes up has no warmth.

No clean water here, and no clear water there,

No wild animal mingling, drinking, and chittering,

She walks ten kilometers north, and she thinks of home.

There are no young boys in the field, is it not true?

There are no grown men in the home, is there?

She thinks day and night, and she sleeps in cold caves devoid of warmth,

Where she wakes up there is no soul.

No boy at home in there, no man at field in here;

No father hugging, kissing, loving his children.

She stops five kilometers between north and south.

There is a child of her waiting, is there not?

There are children of others waiting, is there not?

She thinks by the day, and takes the path by the night,

She sleeps in comfort, in warmth, by the souls;

Where she wakes up there is the Sun and the Moon,

Light on her steps and night on her mouth.

She stops twenty kilometers north...‘‘

He listened to her, and in time saw her much more comfortable. For now, he thought she was a normal little girl, reminiscing about a parent long gone, singing in their memory with all her efforts. He felt that mourning feeling from her voice, he was sure of it.

That tone did not brighten up his mood, but constrained it. Like the single heart stuck on that offshoot, his own bled with worry.

Zhang Cai raised his head when tremors spread from a soft impact. The singing stopped and they saw Li Bo frowning.

‘‘What happened?‘‘ Li Huan asked.

‘‘They are gone.‘‘ He said. ‘‘They must have escaped...‘‘

Here he cast a stern frown at Zhang Cai, and indeed Zhang Cai saw the serious look. But he did not mind it. He did not mind it at all. He was over on the clouds, drinking spring water and eating delicious mutton, and he felt clear in heart and warm in belly. All the worries went away, all his doubts vanished.

He had not killed anyone else.

That single confirmation gave him enough comfort to endure the glare of his benefactor.

Li Bo put a hand on his shoulders and gave a strong squeeze. Zhang cai yelped.

‘‘Next time, don‘t hesitate.‘‘ He walked towards Li Huan and tended to any scratches on her.

Zhang Cai looked at the wide and straight back of Li Bo. That soft smile of his, even in anger, made him feel secure. Even in the middle of the carnage, he did not mind that smile at all.

‘‘Next time...‘‘

He would pray if it worked, so that they might not see any other who wished ill upon them.

‘‘Light up the torch,‘‘ Li Bo said. ‘‘We are leaving here. Beasts will gather around the blood, soon enough.‘‘

‘‘Alright!‘‘ Zhang Cai replied, loudly. And he gave a short nod to Li Huan, who smiled, perhaps understanding his intention to thank her. If not, it did not matter. Gratitude could always be expressed.

‘‘Uh...‘‘ then he smiled again, scratching his head. ‘‘Li Bro...I think I broke mine.‘‘

*********

Time went by, they improved, and at last the sight of a twinkle greeted them with all its joy to see them out from the deep dark crevasse of the Il-Ich out to the long plains donning the countryside of Mankind.

Mankind, indeed. This sharp distinction between the territory of men and of the Xian came together in a border cut so thin and close; at a border where light stabbed into mighty branches and frial offshoots of the thousand year old barks standing tall, which when light came upon it, breached through many leaves keeping critters warm from the cold and cool from the heat. At that point, stepping away from the darkness into the starlight reveling across the dark night, Zhang Cai let out his deepest sight out of his chest.

He heaved back and forth, a smile on his lips, and looked at his friends in the same manner. Li Bo seemed relaxed, his smile wider, eyes peeking through the narrow slits to gaze at the celestial red and green and blue of the heavens close and afar, and he had one hand on his chest clutched, excited. Li Huan laughed a little, she skipped and slapped the backs of them, and cast them a competitive gaze at the edge of the forest where she stood on a branch. Arms open wide she shouted.

‘‘I am the first!‘‘

Zhang Cai watched her step down to flat ground devoid of roots.‘‘Huh?‘‘

‘‘Yes, junior sister. Of course.‘‘ Li Bo repeated, and he walked over and stepped down to fall as well. Zhang Cai trailed after them and cast a look down, and he saw soft grass spreading freely throughout their feet, all short and as if trimmed much healthy, and he saw them extend so far throughout the night that he could not believe the sight.

No hills, no mountains, no clouds. A yellow-white moon hung alone, circled by all manners of celestial bodies, and nothing else. No landmark, no shadow, no tree and bark and stump; nor vegetable plants and wild plants and crops, and certainly no animals and beasts of any manner. There was nothing. A vast sky, a wide floor, a soft breeze caressing the neck and the cheeks to let them know of its embracing nature.

Zhang Cai remained silent for some time up the lengthy thick branch, watching the expanse. He took out his straw hat, scuffled his hair, and took a deep breath. Looking down, he saw the duo already walking away, intent on not disturbing him. He felt refreshed.

Spending some time pondering upon that place he found himself full and leaped down as well. From a dozen meter height he fell and landed without bending his knees, and right after he chased the siblings through the fresh-smelling grass. After his training at the frontier and throughout the forest, his legs and knees had improved further, and he felt a certain joy from being able to move as he wished. He had that kind of feeling always with him, but the dire conditions present throughout his journeys did not allow any joy to bloom such as this.

How wonderful, he told himself. Fucking amazing! He said again.

When he caught up to the two of them, standing on a slightly elevated piece of land, he saw them both looking at the horizon.

‘‘That is the path to the residence,‘‘ Li Bo Said. Both he and Li Huan pointed at the same time. ‘‘And crossroads will come right after that place.‘‘

That place, as they told and pointed, was something faraway. Perhaps that place was somewhere they knew before, or someplace only they could see, or but a single direction that they steeled themselves to go through.

Either way, no matter the path, Zhang Cai would follow their lead until they were safe at home.