It was quite a resounding thud.

The forest burst into a frenzy for a brief moment, birds all scattering into the sky. Leaves still drift slowly down, crumbled bits of twigs raining faster— with hundreds of muted plops they fell, disturbing the comfortable quiet.

A man lied on the grass. Not far from him, a young man dragged a harvested log out of its pile, placing it on flat ground.

Ye Xiyang cracked open an eye. “Are you not going to help me?”

The young man blinked, brushing his hands off as he stopped hunching over wood. Standing upright now, his height became apparent, and the sunlight chasing away shadows made his bright brown eyes shine. His clothes were white, the same material and cuts any common folk would have— his skin was tanned and rough, exposed arms wiry but strong. He looked nothing like a cultivator. “I was going to, but then you don’t seem to have any problems. How are you, though? Can’t be a good day, if you fell from the sky like that.”

Immortal Chen Xi was a strange man— well, the rumors weren’t wrong about that, at least.

He wasn’t from any sects, he was just the sole disciple of Immortal Master Ning Shan. Nobody even knew of him until around 17 years ago— before Ye Xiyang wound back time, anyhow. He only made himself a name then: won a night-hunt competition and suddenly the entire world knew he was Immortal Master Ning Shan’s disciple. After that were a series of achievements that further drilled his name into the wulin talk of the day— taking down 300 years old jiao, solving a case of an enchanted village, beat back a demonic invasion on his own before closing the portal within one night. But the name Immortal Chen Xi was not a name given to him by the wulin. That was a name he gained by winning over the mortals. It was said that many cultivators actually passed by him, chatted with him, got angry with him, all without realizing they were talking to the esteemed immortal— he kept such a low profile in the wulin that many didn’t even know what he looked like.

Five years ago, he disappeared from the public eye.

Two years later, stains began appearing on his name.

“It just got worse because a passing stranger wasn’t willing to help,” Ye Xiyang said, relaxing back onto the grass. “I think I shall lie here some more.”

Wan Yu peered over him, head tilted, before nodding. “Mm. I’ll walk you back to the village once I’m done chopping this. Go nap.”

…Well. If you say so.

And the madman really did what he said he would do. He went back to turning logs into timber, his sword glowing silver as it sliced through the length of the log. It was already nearing afternoon— by tilting his head, Ye Xiyang could see that having worked the entire day, Wan Yu had accumulated quite a stack of timber too. Then Wan Yu started grabbing the freshly cut pieces, moving them to the pile as Silvergrass worked remotely, unsupervised.

"...Have you ever wondered what your sword spirit is feeling at this very moment?"

Wan Yu stopped humming. "Huh? Well, not really. Silvergrass is too new to have a personality yet. It's not a generational sword or merged, and it's barely four this year. It's gonna be a decade or two before it gets its own thoughts."

Four years. Wan Yu must be around 19, then— they all got their own swords at age 15.

When Ye Xiyang glanced over, he found Wan Yu smirking.

"Yeah. It's just my age, there's nothing secret about that. You can know that detail." Wan Yu waved his hand; Silvergrass flew back into his grasp. "I dunno who you are or what you want, but you can get up, yanno. Makes me feel kinda bad, seeing your neat clothes all coated in sawdust and grass stains. You didn't have to nap there just because I said so."

"I would've cautioned you against disclosing too much detail without realizing it, but clearly you already know what you're doing." That made sense, in hindsight. Someone wouldn't have both been hailed as Immortal Chen Xi and remained largely anonymous without brains. Well, all the better. "Not going to take the next logical step and stay away?"

Wan Yu began loading his timber onto a cart. "Bah. You’re the one falling into where I usually cut my timbers, why should I be the one going? Us common folk need to work to eat, yanno? That said, are you going anywhere, or are you gonna follow me around? I’m heading back right now.”

“I thought you’d walk me back to the village,” Ye Xiyang said. “Do you often renege on your promises?”

Wan Yu chuckled. “Wah, xiaomei, don’t get angry ah. Gege isn’t reneging on his promises, really— c’mere, you can climb onto the cart. I’ll pull you all the way to the village.”

Ye Xiyang, “......”

"Ah, xiaomei, are you still angry? How about this: Gege will buy you some sugar on the…"

A chop rested gently against the back of his neck. "I would start walking if I were you."

Instead of feeling threatened, Wan Yu laughed. "Hah, your skin is thinner than Xiao Yun. She's 14 this year, so she wants to feel pretty, but Gege keeps ruining her image in front of boys. What about you? Eyeing any man right now?"

It was a somewhat absurd sight: Wan Yu, dressed in dirtied white, pulling a cart stacked high with timber, a man in blue who looked like an affluent cultivator sitting on the pile of wood. Afternoon sun streamed between swaying foliage. Sticks and undergrowth crunched, wheels creaked— when Ye Xiyang didn't answer, Wan Yu hummed to himself instead.

"No," Ye Xiyang said. "Few catches my eyes."

"Ah, of course. Someone from a rich sect has the ability to choose. Well, you do have the choice I suppose, no reason not to use the privilege. Must've come quite far out, though. Mountains that snow heavily are quite a ways away."

Ye Xiyang raised an eyebrow. "Sharp, aren't you?"

Wan Yu grunted, pausing to wipe the sweat off his brow. He rolled his arms to pop his joints for a moment, sighing with each crack, then started pulling again with renewed energy. "It's the shoes. They look quite a bit thicker than around here."

Silence, for a good while.

"My surname is Ye," Ye Xiyang said at last. The woods thinned, sounds of civilization approaching— they were nearing the village. His hand was closed into a fist. He still had his pearl.

"Well met then, Ye-xiong. Mine's Wan, but everyone here just calls me Gege."

"Mm." Then, after some thought, "Well met, Xiao Wan."

Wan Yu laughed, but said nothing further. No need, really. It didn't take long for them to get to the market.

Almost as soon as he was spotted, several people waved and greeted Wan Yu. He hollered or nodded sometimes, and scolded the little kids swarming too close to the cart— dangerous, he said, when they started chasing and laughing, wanting to join Ye Xiyang on the timber pile. Ye Xiyang, wisely, hopped down and walked beside the cart instead. Soon after, Wan Yu headed straight towards one of the larger stores, drawing the attention of a middle-aged man just walking back in.

"Xiao Wan, back so soon? And who's this gentleman?"

The man had a wide smile, but it turned inquiring upon noticing Ye Xiyang. He stood out— in this poor village, a man in light blue silk, silver dragon embroidered sect robes just walked around as if nothing was wrong. Ye Xiyang's Heart Mirror wasn't out hanging on his belt, but he didn't need to draw out his personal sword to exude the aura of a cultivator.

Wan Yu let go of the cart, letting out a big, relieved sigh. "Yeah, I promised Xiao Mian I'll teach her how to weave mats this afternoon. Ah, Uncle Sun, leave like… twenty of those boards, I'm gonna use them to fix up Grandma's house. Tell Uncle Wang I'll be renting out his cart again tomorrow. Oh, and this is Ye-xiong."

As Wan Yu answered, Old Sun had gone back in to call out some men, who started unloading the cart. Timbers clacked against each other. Merry chimes of coins clinking against each other, then a metallic thud— someone had thrown a bag of coins. Old Sun walked back out with said bag, rejoining the conversation with a nod of understanding. "A cultivator friend, huh?"

"Something like that."

Old Sun laughed, dropping the bag of coins on Wan Yu’s palm. "What are you so shy for? Any friend of yours is a welcome friend of ours. He can stay at our place, eh, if it's too stuffy at Grandma Ji's house."

Wan Yu flashed a wolfish grin, eyes shifting to the side. His voice perked up. Classic, not very subtle signs there. "Ah, Uncle, what's the point of meeting up with a faraway friend if we have to sleep in different houses? It's okay, thank you for the offer though. Thanks for the coins! I'll be here tomorrow at the usual time."

He ran off dragging Ye Xiyang soon after, almost forgetting to bring the planks he said he was taking. As if it wasn't a sight that stood out, he carried them on his shoulder as they walked to wherever Wan Yu was staying. It wasn’t too far, still within the neighborhood; the front of it was clearly in the middle of active repair. He dropped off the planks, entered for a moment, and walked out with a basket.

“All right, time to grab vegetables for dinner tonight,” Wan Yu announced, dragging Ye Xiyang away with an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but nothing sounds better to me right now than a spicy stir-fry. Do you handle spice well, Ye-xiong? Well, even if you don’t, you just have to deal with it.”

"You sure act familiar with strangers," Ye Xiyang commented as they walked. "How long have you stayed here?"

"Eh? What makes you think I wasn’t born and raised here?" Wan Yu led them to the even poorer part of the village, casual despite the increasing decay of their surroundings. "I'll be leaving in 2 weeks. It's why I have a lot on my plate before I go, see? But eh, Xiao Mian's a resourceful girl, I suppose. I'm not too worried."

No answer to the first question, of course. "You put a lot of effort into places you only intend to pass."

"I'm not in a rush." Wan Yu didn't continue the conversation. Instead, he led them to one of the houses, the one with a worn, old table sitting outside, and poked his head into the open door, rapping his knuckles on the wood. "Grandpa Yin? Hello? I'm here to pick up vegetables."

Silence, for a while, then a creak— there was a faint thud of something sinking into the earth before someone finally replied. “Xiao Wan?”

“Yup. Were you busy? Eh, Grandpa, don’t work so hard this late into the day, what if something happens to your back again? No rush, no rush, how are you today?"

All this, and Wan Yu was still outside, head halfway in. Ye Xiyang didn't want to know how much longer and more detailed it would be had he actually walked in.

There were some more indistinct answers only Wan Yu heard, and some faint noises— when the old man walked out, he had a basket of produce in hand. Wan Yu checked the contents and pulled out his pouch. "Are there any more? We have a guest today."

Without saying much, Grandpa Yin went back in, coming out with two rather small heads of cabbage. He unceremoniously shoved it into the basket, but his acidic countenance didn’t deter Wan Yu one bit, the latter grinning as he counted his coins.

“Thank you, thank you. How much's the addition?"

"What are you talking about? It's just that small thing, what are you paying extra for?" The old man looked at him like he had lost it, but there was a mildness in there. It seemed he was long since used to this.

Wan Yu shot him a helpless look. "Grandpa, even the smallest cabbage is brought into the world with effort from mother earth ah. What would the cabbage think if you say it's worth nothing? How about this, I'll add some more coppers, but starting tomorrow I'll have one extra every day?"

The grandpa shook his head. “Yes, yes, more tomorrow, no need to pay for that, now go.”

Despite being shooed out like a stray one ended up being reluctantly fond of, Wan Yu left with laughter in his eyes. At Ye Xiyang’s look, he explained, “he’s just like that. He likes to say I’m loud, but he’s just missing his grandkids. He likes the nagging.”

Ye Xiyang politely doubted that assessment.

“Not going to ask me to pay for the stay?” Ye Xiyang asked instead. "Or am I a guest now?"

Wan Yu snorted as he readjusted his grip on the basket. The way he carried himself, he looked like he was about to leave with other village girls to wash the laundry in the river.

“For a head of cabbage? I’m extorting the rich family next town over for my services as a cultivator. You’re not a high maintenance young master, are you? If you are, then I’ll be asking for you to pay up. I’m not well-off enough to have a kept beauty.”

Ye Xiyang, "......" You're not wrong. This sect leader beauty has a lot of expenses and is high maintenance, like a beautiful embroidered ombre silk.

“As for the guest thing, so long as Ye-xiong remains a good boy, he is one. See? Lots of perks to behaving.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the trip; Ye Xiyang was busy reconstructing the image of the Immortal Chen Xi in his head. Was the angry individual he met just the man after two decades of wulin hypocrisy, and this was his original form? Perhaps. Ru Ge’s report to him was lacking in the personality profile and history department, and Shi Ma reserved the sharpness of her mind only for the study of martial arts— even though he’d dispatched her to watch over Wan Yu during his three weeks’ stay, her reports only consisted of things like “it turns out this man could sleep for 14 straight hours” and “I couldn’t see the full extent of his cultivation, he keeps sleeping, he never practices his moves.”

In hindsight, perhaps he should’ve sent someone else to keep a watch. Well, nothing to be done about that now.

They arrived before long. Wan Yu, with his now-usual exuberance, hollered as he entered— "Grandma, Xiao Mian, I'm back! I've got company, is that all right? Wait, no, I’m not asking you Xiao Mian, I already asked Grandma about that."

"You’re so annoying!" A young girl around age 9 came running in from the yard, cheeks puffed red. Some dried strands and straws clung to her clothes, which were tied a bit strangely for a wider range of movement. "Anyway, I've sorted the ree— eh? Who's this?"

"Company," Wan Yu said, readjusting his hold on the basket. This thing kept sliding off his side, what a bother. "Let me put this in the kitchen first ah. Where's Grandma?"

"Is he staying? Gege, I didn't know you have cultivation friends. Why would a cultivator be here huh?"

Wan Yu snorted. "Why wouldn’t I? Am I not one?"

As he passed by her, Wan Yu nodded his head at her skirt— finally realizing that her skirt was hanging just below her knees and slanted, Xiao Mian blushed red and untied the knot. When she looked up, Wan Yu was already in the other room.

"Maybe, but you're mostly a wandering guy doing hard labor. You even dress like the rest of us. Nothing like an elegant cultivator!" she shouted after him. What answered was exaggerated laughter, followed by a gentle chuckle.

Ye Xiyang let out an amused huff too. "He’s a rarity, yes."

Xiao Mian, startled at that, blushed for an entirely different reason. "E-eh?"

So many overlooked the actual man because he didn't fit their perception of "Immortal Chen Xi"… Ye Xiyang somewhat regretted not paying much attention to Wan Yu's early rise. He had no idea when this logger was bestowed by such a title. He was always busy with demonic faction politics and grudges, he'd long since delegated the relations with the righteous faction to Ru Ge. Speaking of Ru Ge…

If Wan Yu was 19, then Ye Xiyang should be 25— it looked to be summer, and he knew from Ru Ge that Wan Yu was born in the second month. Ye Xiyang was born not long after the new year’s. And at age 25…

He was still putting down firmer roots in the sect, quenching the last bits of dissent after he killed his own shifu and took over as the Supreme Leader four years prior. Not a time when he cared much about the righteous faction— there were so many greedy eyes from the demonic faction that he already had his hands full. This was definitely not a good time to be missing. Not the worst, but he ought to go back within a month or two to check up on how things were going. Ru Ge and Shi Ma were competent people, the latter having done great clean-up jobs without needing supervision, but he needed to show his face at some point.

The pearl was the pearl. It was a mystery he was curious about, but he had to admit at some point: the bigger mystery he was more curious about was… someone.

"Are you really Gege's friend, then?"

"I know him, you can say."

Xiao Mian’s eyes were shining the more he talked. "I'd never thought someone like Gege would know someone like a real immortal."

The chopping sounds stopped; then, a holler from the kitchen— "I am also one, thank you very much!"

"A knock-off," Xiao Mian hollered back. "Bah, so talkative, aren't you helping Grandma?"

"Oi, wait, why am I doing this? Xiao Mian, get in here, I'm going to go check on the reeds!"

"Finish chopping those cabbages first! Are you gonna leave Grandma to do that?"

The grandma laughed as the two bickered— Wan Yu didn't emerge, in the end, until the sounds of crackling fire started. He dragged Xiao Mian out to start showing her how to weave the mats as he said he would. Ye Xiyang sat down to watch them— there wasn't much to see otherwise. By the time dinner was cooked— fish, other side dishes, soup— Wan Yu and Xiao Mian was one fifth through a mat.

“We’re sorry that this is the best that we can do, Esteemed Immortal,” the grandma said, bowing a bit. Ye Xiyang waved a hand.

“Where I come from, the early and prolonged winters can freeze fields for half the year. I like having vegetables when I can.”

Heh. How benevolent of Supreme Leader Ye.

“Oh? That’s so… Here, it’s almost always sunny… if it’s not, then it’s raining. It’s just one of the two,” she said. “Here, here, ah, have some more.”

It was a decent meal, Ye Xiyang had had worse. Wan Yu steered the conversation clear of cultivation matters, occupying the little girl with talks of daily necessities and other minutiae. Ye Xiyang didn’t have to say much; he only commented with a line or two about “the world of cultivators”, talking about his sword being kept in his qiankun sleeve because its aura was rather formidable, drawing awe from her. Wan Yu shot him a dirty look— Ye Xiyang smiled back at him.

Night deepened. One shi after sundown, Xiao Mian and Grandma Ji turned in, leaving Wan Yu to tidy up the yard, put back the drying dishes, and make sure everything was in place before going to sleep himself. He rolled out mats, brought out pillows, and threw his jian to the one next to Xiao Mian. Then, with all the grace of a falling tree, he sat down.

He glanced at Ye Xiyang. "Sleep or talk?"

"We have something to talk about?"

A huff. Wan Yu lied down, pillowing his head with his arms. "Well, sleep then. You can shift the mat if you want. Be good and stay put. We'll talk when we head out."