Du Yu'an turned to his father, questions on his face. The Du Patriarch, however, paid his son no mind. “It happened several times. It almost cost some of the movers their feet. So you see, immortal, this is very important…”

“We only got a look at the outside of the workshop area last night,” Wan Yu said. “Perhaps, after this, we can go see the site?”

The old man nodded. “I will take you there to see. Yu’an, there will be new shipment right after this, don’t forget.”

Ever-patient, Du Yu’an smiled as he nodded. “I will see to it, Father.”

It was just one breakfast, but enlightening— this was the reason why Wan Yu liked to sit down and talk with people. He could see the dynamics that mattered, at least; Du Yu’an’s responsibilities were expected, Du Yuxun’s works were accomplishments. Honestly, now Wan Yu wasn’t sure whether Du Yu’an was truly sincere about the pride he held for his brother, or if it was a front. He would like to believe the former, but the latter wouldn’t surprise him either.

But Wan Yu would give him the benefit of doubt.

Out of the sudden, Du Yuxun spoke up. “Father, I—”

All eyes turned to him.

“I’ve finished the guqin for the Liang young miss, I’d like to go find some more good wood this morning so I can get straight to work after.” He’d swallowed a bit and tensed his neck saying that; it was clear that something about talking put him on edge. Wan Yu munched on his food as he watched, feeling like he could benefit from a more casual, crunchy food at this moment.

Du Patriarch laughed. “Of course, go.”

“We can go together later then,” Du Yu’an said to his brother. Du Yuxun nodded, then went back to his food.

Wan Yu held back the urge to raise his eyebrows. But Du Yuxun was silent for the rest of the meals, and the ones talking now were mainly Wan Yu and the Du Patriarch, with Du Yu’an occasionally being told to do this or that.

The gist of it was, there had been several incidents in the workshop, but the Du Patriarch was unwilling to really call it part of the haunting. It would affect morale even more, after all, and the incidents were few and far enough in between to just be carelessness— in regards to this part of the gossip, he clamped down hard. “I don’t see how my wife would even… she wouldn’t busy herself with these matters.”

Well, it’s definitely not her busying herself with these matters, Wan Yu thought.

The Du sons excuse themselves after breakfast, and their father led him and Ye Xiyang to the workshop area. To his surprise, Ye Xiyang didn’t pull out his umbrella and fan to act the part of a young master— with his hands behind his back, he looked almost solemn, strangely not drawing immediate ire.

Things looked so different in the daylight; the previously unsettling area was bustling with life. Over two dozen men, young and old, were wandering about now. Some of them were moving large pieces of wood, freshly cut from the logs stacked in one warehouse, lugging them together to the work areas. In one workshop, three men were working on the carvings of a wardrobe, shaving away at the wood until tigers emerged, fierceness hidden underneath the subtle curves of their muscles. There was, however, one workshop that was larger and yet more barren than the others— while the ones with dedicated, focused carvers had projects lining up the walls to be finished or shipped off, this one was tidy, with planks and timber and large wheels stacked against each other in one corner. The workers here were quick and efficient; when Wan Yu watched them, they assembled whatever it was that they worked on within the time it took to burn two or three sticks of incense. They hit in nails with precision, passed over wheels and parts with practiced ease, all working as a well-oiled machine.

“What’s the thing they’re making?” Wan Yu asked, leaning forward with interest. He’d been standing there, just hovering outside the door, for a good while now. The incredible ease these people displayed doing their work was something he could watch all day. The Du Patriarch paused.

“Ah, that? It’s just the base for a wheeled cart.”

It did look like a base. It looked somewhat like a cart, except without the… box-like part that would allow for item storage; it had four solid legs, which was kind of weird; it had a somewhat weird, curved part between the legs nearest to the pusher, which was just a mystery to Wan Yu. If he had to guess, it looked like it would provide more anchorage to the ground, but what would that even be used for? What sort of cart needed that?

Seeing Wan Yu’s expression, the Du Patriarch then added, “It’s for specialized use. These are still the base, it’ll be further equipped by my client.”

“I see.”

Well, if this client was the Seven-Petal Moonlotus Sect, who could guess what they ‘equipped’ it with later.

Maybe the blood of the innocent, harvested under the light of the full moon. Wan Yu shook his head. Gah, he needed to talk with Ye-xiong less.

They went back to the courtyard in less than one shichen. Ye Xiyang glanced at him when they finally rounded back, the Du Patriarch telling them to rest after spending the night awake and dealing with the hauntings. “No asking those workers about what happened?”

Wan Yu shot him a look back. “Do you think they’ll speak a word with their boss right there? Anyway, they look busy, I don’t want to disturb them if I don’t need to.”

He sat down, lips pursed as he stared at the vegetation. In the foot of these green mountains, everything was lush and verdant, all easy on the eyes. Wan Yu plucked a leaf as he started thinking. No, he didn’t think he needed to question the workers right now, at least not until he could think of a specific thing to ask— his current line of thinking was, this might be everything on the surface.

“He’s been at this for over a decade, yet the people working with him all don’t say a word; this either means they don’t know what they’re making, or they’re not anything… weird? Dangerous?”

People talked about his rise to wealth, but there wasn't anything particularly vile in the rumors. That wasn’t the norm if something was spottable; people liked to hone in on anything resembling the shape of a wrong when there wasn’t much to talk about. And all of this was done out in the open, under sunlight, in a breezy, large workshop, decent working conditions, apparently accompanied with hot meals for lunch eaten together at the site…

The Du Patriarch wasn’t hiding this. He was more than happy to showcase his working area, how well his workers were doing.

“The weirdest one is that cart,” Wan Yu said. He paused for a second, realizing that the sound of his voice was jarring and weird to his own ears after spending so long silent— when he looked up, the sun was far higher in the sky. “Oh, it’s already this late?”

Under the shade of some tree, Ye Xiyang shot him a look. He already had his fan out, flapping air cold enough it was visible in the heat. “The greatest mystery, I think, is the fact that you’ve been sitting there under direct sunlight for the past hour without moving an inch.”

Wan Yu uncrossed his legs, wincing as blood flow returned to his limbs. “Ouch, ouch. Oww— anyway, what? What can I say, I love the sun, I’m like a tree, I grow tall and bushy under it—”

Finally letting go of the leaf in his hand, he stared at the mushed up poor little green thing, contemplating whether he should return it to its tree. In the end, he fixed it up and let it fly back. “Anyway, how come you’re so unaccustomed to this weather? Which region did you even come from, isn’t this just summer? And even then, knowing you’re not used to the heat, you wear so many layers too…”

“Not every region has a summer that gets this hot and humid, evidently.” Ye Xiyang sighed, as if lamenting Wan Yu’s lack of imagination. “Not all of us are willing to look so indecent either, despite the weather.”

Wan Yu wanted to gape. Indecent? If anything, Ye-xiong was a lunatic out of touch with reality to dress so heavily in this region. Oi, this was the climate, not the weather. People had better things to do with their day than flap a magical fan around to summon cold air!

He paused. Wow, Ye-xiong really brought out the annoyance within him.

“Ye-xiong,” Wan Yu said with earnest eyes, “I think you ought to return from whence you came. This place doesn’t seem to agree with you.”

Ye Xiyang sighed. “At least shoo me away with sweeter words.”

Before Wan Yu could find the will in his soul to retort to that, he spotted someone coming— it was Li San. She only told him about lunch and how it would be served soon, however; she looked to be in a hurry, what with the smattering of flour on her sleeve she didn’t seem to notice nor pat away.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding. “We’ll stay put.”

Lunch was less of an affair; the Du Patriarch had gone for a nap, the two sons were out, it was just him and… Ye-xiong.

You know, they’d remained civil during the entirety of the actual meal.

"Ye-xiong really is dedicated," Wan Yu sighed, putting down his cup of tea. "Coming all the way here, doing the job with me… if I didn't know better, I'd think you're here to demand I repay a debt, or maybe that I'm the son of someone or another and you promised them before they died that you'll take care of their son except I was dropped off in some random mountain and got picked up by my shifu and now you're here to convince me to return."

Ye Xiyang's smile was only marred by displeasure when he sipped the tea. "How could I take you away from your shifu? Surely the man would be devastated."

"Yeah. He loves me."

It was a statement, pure and simple. Ye Xiyang envied that, somewhat.

"He raised you from birth?"

"Well, yeah? Had to get some help, since he was an old man and had no idea how childrearing worked, but more or less yeah. Would spend mornings walking me round the mountains to burn off my excess energy, then he'd teach me stuff. He was the most patient man in the world."

Wan Yu's smile was natural and free, loosening his expression the more he talked. He chuckled. "I'm the luckiest orphan, honestly."

"It takes a very grateful person to say such a thing," Ye Xiyang acknowledged.

"It's nothing like that." Wan Yu stretched, stacking the emptied plates together. He did it with such ease and mindlessness that Ye Xiyang wanted to comment once more on his instincts with people’s tableware, but he decided against bringing it up again right now. "I was one, but I got people who love me despite what a little shit I was. Isn't that luck? Where would I be today if it wasn't for them? Anyway, Ye-xiong still hasn’t answered my question. What is it you want? Should I guess that you already know who my shifu is?”

A chuckle. “I already know who he is, but I’m not interested in what he has.”

“Ah? Then Ye-xiong is interested in me? Sorry, but I gotta say no to that.”

Ye Xiyang wanted to sigh. Did he seem so tasteless, as to want someone like this Immortal Chen Xi, Wan Rushu? He would rather the woman his shifu set aside for him, if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt no attraction towards her, and she would make a bad Esteemed Lady Who Brings With Her Winter.

The Frozen Dragon Sect wasn’t like other sects, where the spouses of the sect leaders didn’t have to be anyone. Esteemed Ladies of the Frozen Dragon Sect had to be someone who could lead everyone. She stood beside the Supreme Leader, subordinate only to him, the mountains, and winter itself.

“I’m just curious,” Ye Xiyang said, “about the sole disciple of the Immortal Master Ning Shan.”

A pause.

“Well, you’ve seen most of it,” Wan Yu said. After a moment of silence, he then laughed. “What do you want to see me do? This is pretty much it.”

“We’ll see,” Ye Xiyang said.

Seventeen years to the past was a long time, but it was an interesting time, Ye Xiyang supposed. It would still be many years before the matter with the pearl started, but who knew? Jumping into another time had always been something that altered the fabric of the universe; perhaps Wan Yu would stumble into this mystery earlier. After all, when Ye Xiyang jumped through that portal…

He’d pulled something, too, with him.

Wan Yu dozed off not long after lunch, and woke up to the sound of distant commotion not one shichen later.

“Huh?” Wandering out of his room, he made his way out to the front courtyard, where the two Du sons seemed to have returned home. Du Yu’an was pointing out which wood was for whom— that one is Xiao Xun’s, please take it to the old workshop, the rest can go to warehouse three, they’re for a commissioned partition, I’ve tagged it. His younger brother stood slightly out to the side, behind him.

Wan Yu had no idea where Ye-xiong was, but bah. Making himself less conspicuous, Wan Yu stayed still until most everyone had departed, then followed Du Yuxun to the old workshop.

Everyone else had gone to the main workshop, Du Yu’an included. That Wan Yu was trailing behind the second Du son was clear as day, and yet the person said nothing as he followed him to the old house.

“...Were you supposed to be hiding your presence?” Du Yuxun asked, turning around in front of the doors. Wan Yu stared back.

“What? No.”

“Then why are you acting like you’re trying to keep out of my line of sight? Those silent footsteps?”

“Light footwork is part of what we learn as cultivators,” Wan Yu said. “Anyway, no. I wanted to talk to you, if I hide around, how am I gonna do that?”

Du Yuxun, “......” This person is more annoying than anticipated.

To his credit, Du Yuxun turned back and stayed quiet as they entered the house and walked all the way to the workshop inside. He didn’t seem to notice anything different about the removed talismans, which Wan Yu supposed made sense— after all, not a cultivator, and this being the middle of the day, he doubted the cultivators ever sprung their little show at this hour. His footsteps were calm and confident, walking these halls as if the old madame didn’t “haunt” it; though then again, he was said to work here, so it made sense. He walked in and out of this place on a daily basis, and probably spent many hours here alone.

It was a nice place, this workshop. With the door open, breezes drifted in bringing a falling leaf or two, softening the harshness of midday sun. Wood carving tools were stored in neat rows. There was a guzheng in the corner, placed on a low table; it looked to be well-cared for and not part of a commission or for sale, given the picks lying by it. Lotus leaves and cranes in shimmery, muted white stood out against the dark wood— they seemed to have been made of mother of pearl.

Wan Yu walked around the room, humming to himself.

“I heard you make instruments?”

“Still studying,” Du Yuxun corrected, grabbing the xiao out of his hand. “I focus on guqins. Sometimes I make others. You play?”

Wan Yu raised his hands as if in acquiescence and sat down on the floor outside the door. “Dizi. Kinda interested in other types too, though. Someone taught me how to play paixiao for a bit when I was out on the roads, now I’ve got an interest in learning more. Too bad I haven’t found anyone willing to teach a wandering cultivator that, though. My shifu tried to teach me guqin back then, but we both agreed that it was better I stick with the flute.”

“Oh.”

In fact, Wan Yu remembered those days well. The two of them tried to make their own dizi, but being that neither of them knew the art that went into making an instrument, it didn’t sound quite right. In the end, the dizi that Wan Yu now carried was one they bought in town. He went from practicing his guqin begrudgingly for one obligatory shichen a day to terrorizing the birds with sharp, shrieking noises for three shichen daily before he managed to make less piercing sounds. His shifu put his foot down when Wan Yu waved around his dizi as a substitute for his wooden sword.

"You already know now that such an instrument is not easy to make, you should give it more respect."

Then Wan Yu discovered the multifunctionality of a cultivator's jian.

"Yu’er…" Immortal Master Ning Shan sighed that day. "Your Silvergrass's sword spirit…"

"It will be a practical, crafty, down-to-earth and creative spirit ba," Wan Yu, age 15 and rather annoying, said. With a defiant, cheeky look in his eyes, he lifted his chin. "Anyway, it's not like it's a crime?"

"Why, your shifu didn't have the patience to teach you or something?"

Wan Yu laughed, waving away the memories. He’d been thinking about the past an awful lot today. "My shifu is renowned in the wulin for his patient temperament. I just told him that it'd be easier for me to use a flute than a guqin when it matters, and I think he saw through my excuses and just let me go."

"He's lenient on you," Du Yuxun commented, tone dry.

"Heh, what can I say? He loves me."

"Huh." Du Yuxun picked up one of the woods and, with a heave, moved it to his table. He then picked up his tools and started tracing faint outlines on the surface. "Are all the things done out of so-called love justifiable?"

Ooh. An interesting topic, huh? Wan Yu leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his cheek on his palm. "Yes and no. Depends on what kind of person you are."

Du Yuxun rolled his eyes. "Isn't that a cop-out?"

"Is it? I don't think so. I think the world is nuanced enough for that." Wan Yu pulled at Silvergrass's tassel, playing with the smooth strands. "I've seen a lot of people. I've seen parents dying of starvation try to give their kids to me, hoping I could give them more than they could. I've seen them hand over their kids to far less savory people, who then tried to smuggle them as slaves. When I say it depends on what kind of person you are, I don't mean you as the actor. I meant you as a third party, an outsider."

Wan Yu looked up, peering from underneath his lashes. "If a child dies in a horrific manner because their parents thought they wouldn't die of starvation if given away, do you think it's the parents’ fault?"

Du Yuxun stared back. "Yes."

With a smile, Wan Yu dropped his tassel. “I think it's the fault of the people who sought out the children of the poor and dying so that they may profit from it.”

There was a moment of silence, before Du Yuxun scoffed again. “That’s even more of a cop-out.”

“How is that a cop-out?” Wan Yu asked, spreading his arms. “Isn’t that the truth? When people are doing their best in a bad situation, and then someone comes in looking to benefit from their misfortune, don’t they get a big part of the blame?”

“The parents have the choice of not letting their children’s fates be up to a gamble.”

“And certain death is better than that?”

Du Yuxun pursed his lips. “Maybe.”

“It’s your answer to the question and that’s a valid belief,” Wan Yu agreed. “Not everyone shares that same thought, though, and I think it’s also important to respect that.”

There was a silence. Du Yuxun frowned, but he said nothing as he shifted focus to his work for a bit, filling the room with the sounds of gentle scraping.

"Not everything is as morally ambiguous as that," Du Yuxun suddenly spoke up, breaking the quiet. "What if it hurts someone else? A lot of people? At what point do you stop sympathizing with them?"

“Empathy is different from sympathy,” Wan Yu pointed out. “You can understand them without accepting their actions as justified. You can ultimately condemn an action, but you can also understand what factors led up to it, too, without it somehow diminishing the strength of that condemnation.”

That seemed to rattle some nerves.

“That’s because you have distance on your side,” Du Yuxun spat out. He looked like he wanted to throw aside his tools, but thought twice about it and shoved it back to its place. Good call, given that it could be a sharp weapon. “Of course it’s easy to remain emotionally distant when it’s not your—”

He let out a loud exhale, but the anger didn’t leave his form.

"Father taught me everything himself, spent hours and hours with me, showing me how to carve. When I was growing up, things were already getting better, and he often told me about how much better life was for us now. How Gege had to make do with crude bamboo toys, how we had to stretch the food when business wasn't doing so well. I know he cares about me, about us I guess. But what kind of… Sometimes the blind spots just make me wonder!

“She might not be my birth mother, but she… Gege talked a lot about her. She didn’t think he needed to force this quite like this. Saying it’s for us, but at what cost… is it for us, or for himself?”

His words were getting unclear and muddled as his thoughts tripped into one another, but Wan Yu thought he got it. The Du Patriarch did amass riches for his family, but at what price? With such a heavy cost, likely to be borne by the family he claimed he did all this for, was the one who benefited the most them, or him?

It was love, but with glaring blind spots that might've rendered it all moot.

“What she was doing, staying here, was her way of saying that she was content with what she had. And Gege was the same, too. So for whom was he doing it?”

Wan Yu sighed.

“If he really cares about us, how come this doesn’t cross his mind?”

Getting up, Wan Yu walked over and patted Du Yuxun on his shoulder. “I understand. In the end, this issue will have to be worked out by your own family, but I will do my part. But you can’t risk other people’s lives like that.”

"It's serious enough to warrant it," Du Yuxun said, defiant. When his eyes met Wan Yu, he saw a fire in them that burned with anger and anguish both. "By keeping our eyes averted, aren't we too risking our lives, having it being placed on a precipice whose width we cannot see?"

Dinner was another quiet affair. Nearing the dead of the night, Wan Yu found himself sitting on the rooftop, oiling his sword, while Ye Xiyang stood gazing at the moon.

“With that lack of spirit, I take it you found out who did it?”

Wan Yu sighed as he wiped his blade. “It’s the Du younger son, most likely. Doesn’t approve of what his father’s doing, thinks he’s selling out his family’s future all while claiming he’s doing it for them. I don’t blame him, but his methods leave a lot to be desired.”

Ye Xiyang chuckled. “It’s such a roundabout way of screaming for help.”

“To be fair, it’s not like it’ll be resolved with a talk,” Wan Yu said. He let out another sigh. “People don’t just change like that. If I were him I’d be doing anything for it to be taken seriously, too.”

“What would you do if you found out your shifu has done something awful?”

“No. Don’t ask me that. I don’t want to think about it.” The reply came fast, more a reflex than anything. Wan Yu groaned, as though disappointed that he let himself be so transparent.

A laugh. “You can’t run away from it. Even if Immortal Master Ning Shan is someone righteous, not everyone around him is.”

Wan Yu pursed his lips, storing away his oil and scrap of cloth. “I just don’t have an answer for it right now. I’d like to say I’ll handle it well, but let’s be real, I’ll probably kick and scream first before arriving at that stage.” Sheathing back his sword, he hopped to his feet, balancing on one heel as he spun around. “Let’s go to the workshop. I’d like to know what the heck it is that the Du Patriarch really is making and selling.”

With an amused smile, Ye Xiyang followed him. Rather than walking on the ground, they hopped from roof to roof. The flutter of their flowing clothes were like clouds in the night.

The doors to the large workshop were closed with a wooden beam, and Wan Yu reslotted them once the two of them were inside. Oh, how qi helped with so much. Wan Yu decided to push aside the morality of the usage of his powers, focusing instead on the contraption stumping him all day.

"This anchorage makes me think it'll experience something like, ah, not knockback… but just that bump backwards from loading heavy things or something," Wan Yu said, running through his thoughts. "The four feet, I don't get. And oh, huh. Looks like the wheels can be slotted upwards, so it won't touch the ground and render the feet moot…

"Definitely not for farming or lugging a load of stuff around. I can see some form of moving stall with it, but it's not big enough to be useful for that, and anyway why would— ah, shit, I forgot to take into account that it's probably Seven-Petal Moonlotus Sect that's commissioning these. They're not gonna be doing such menial, normal things with it. What's something more crime-y?"

Ye Xiyang held back a chuckle— this man's diction, whenever it started failing and he resorted to a random trail of sounds approximating meaning, was its own form of amusement.

“It’s the mount for bed crossbows,” a voice said from behind them. Wan Yu and Ye Xiyang turned their heads— Du Yuxun, as expected. The young man gripped the doors tighter. “Father did the designs, we don’t assemble all of it here so it’s harder to point fingers. I don’t know where they sell it off to, I don’t think Father knows either, but I bet you they’d sell it to our country’s enemies if it profits th—”

A hand covered Du Yuxun’s mouth. With the light coming in from the outside, the man’s face was cast in shadows, but his voice finally revealed who he was. “Xun’er, I wouldn’t say that so loudly.”

Du Yuxun spun around. “Ge—!”

Du Yu’an pushed his brother further into the workshop before shutting the door behind him. What little light illuminated the room disappeared. The man's voice was careful and constructed, maintaining that telltale veneer of pleasantness. "I hope you forgive me for what my brother has been saying. He's young."

“Oh?” Ye Xiyang said, eyebrows raised.

“We’ve always sheltered him, so he doesn’t know much about the world,” Du Yu’an said, keeping a tight grip on Du Yuxun’s shoulder. His eyes flitted between the two men, but lingered on Ye Xiyang. When he looked away, he lowered his head, too, as if to lower himself. “It is us, his elders, who is at fault for not guiding him more.”

Du Yuxun’s voice was frigid. “Gege.”

“Every relevant document has been kept in a safe place, too, there is no worry of being found out.”

“Gege!”

Ye Xiyang chuckled. “Are you apologizing to me?”

It happened in a flash— Ye Xiyang swept a hand, the whipping sound of his sleeve but an aftershock— and Wan Yu’s ears caught an obscured rustle and thud before the windows broke into numerous splinters. Du Yu’an turned around, shielding his brother— Wan Yu leapt back, Silvergrass unsheathing with a silver-white arc.

Three thuds. When the dust settled, there were only the limp bodies of three men stacked atop the scattered planks and wheels, all bleeding from their orifices.

“An unwarranted apology is still welcome, of course, but I think I shall accept thanks, too.”