Chapter 147
Quiet Parts of Hearts
Shui'er giggled rather sweetly, taking in the overcoming warmth--not of the sun that she hadn't seen in quite some time, but rather of the attention that suddenly befell her when she came here. Men and women, young and old alike, stopped whatever they were doing and sauntered over toward her (and Hino, but mostly her), praising and cawing. Amidst the clang of hammers and the strangely rhythmic sawing of wood, she was, fittingly, a rare flower, a splash of vibrant color on an otherwise drab and muted canvas.
They smiled at her, at first hesitatingly but soon after with radiant expressions, and quickly began presenting her with gifts; there was a wooden doll that she quite liked, another one that she didn't (but still smiled with the grace of a princess from those old stories), then there was a wood-carved bird, a set of pressed flowers, strangely shaped pebbles and stones... before long, she was surrounded by things that, though not liking much, represented the moment more so than anything else: here, she was... special. Loved.
She was the center of attention.
Though they liked her at the longhouse, too, it was... different. Leo was... he was becoming short with her and was much stricter than when she first arrived. Grandpa Yang, similarly, often told her what not to do more so than anything else. She barely saw Uncle Azariel or even Brother Liang and Sister Yue. They were often gone by the time Shui'er got up and would only return when she'd gone to bed.
There was only ever Hino, but Hino was... different. Strange. Even when they were together, he would often get distracted by something else in the forest--an unnatural flower, an animal, or even just spider webbing that hung loosely between two trees. He would get distracted by the most ordinary things, and distracted from her at that. Though he was always there when she looked, either behind her or off to the side, she'd noted she wasn't the center of his world.
She wasn't the center of anyone's world. Not anymore.
Even under the rain of praises, her mind drifted to the village and her life there. There, in the troves of overgrowths, dirt-laden roads, and smelly pigsties, she was a princess. Every morning there would be maids to bathe her, and now she would have to shear the weeds with her feet to reach the pond and bathe herself. In the village, every morning there would be a spread of lavish foods awaiting her, and there would be new dresses to wear, and there would be maids to comb her hair and dress her and flutter her when it was hot...
And any time she'd go out, they treated her like royalty--kids would give her their toys, they'd pet her, give her sweets, and drown her in praise. Even if they abandoned her... for a moment, at least, she was their world.
Here? She was just part of something larger. Perhaps loved still, but not to a degree she experienced before. She wasn't allowed to do whatever she wanted--Leo would even sit her down and lecture her when she'd been bad. She never quite understood, however; pulling pranks was fun, and she was allowed to have fun, at least, so why would he punish her? Did he not like her anymore?
Shui'er stealthily glanced over past the assembly of burly, tanning bodies and toward the distance, where she saw the bearded figure stoking flames, no doubt preparing to make lunch. She wanted to be his center of attention more than anything in the world. To her, and it seemed to every other person in the forest, he was the sun. But she selfishly wanted all his light centered on her... and he would not budge.
It was an eerie feeling, and one she had never experienced before; no matter how hard she tried to shun it, to bury it, it would always slither its way back to the surface. Any time she'd do something bad, and he'd chastise her, she'd feel guilt--but, within that guilt, there was also a level of joy because, for ever a moment, his eyes were only on her... even if she hated the way they looked at her.
"Alright everyone, take a break! Lunch will soon be ready!" A voice cut through the industrious hum, drawing all attention to itself.
Leo did notice Shui'er basking in the joy of attention, though he chose to ignore it; not for nothing, she perhaps needed it, and if she couldn't get it from him, maybe being showered with attention by others might calm her down slightly (and if not, well, he might start losing hair once again).
He shifted his focus over to the roaring cauldron. Flames burned beneath it, and water within boiled as he began to toss in the finely chopped ingredients, sliced cubes of meat, and the nostril-stirring spices. Soon enough, a rather rich, fragrant steam began billowing around him, causing quite a few rumbling stomachs to form a symphony.
To onlookers, it seemed no different than ordinary cooking, as they were likely entirely unfamiliar with the herbs and 'spices' he was tossing in or with the magically charged water boiling therein. He even stirred it occasionally with his own Qi, adding that extra punch to it.
As he waited, he once again tossed his gaze over to the rising community; it was startling how quickly it was taking shape. And more so considering that the people Lu Yang managed to bring over weren't exactly 'top shelf', even if he felt slimy thinking of another person that way. They were mostly the poor, the beggars, the downtrodden, and even the deathly sick ones. And yet, they'd proven that, if given a proper chance, anyone could make something of note.
Walls were rising, foundations laid, and the beginnings of a real settlement, of a real Sect, taking shape far faster than he'd anticipated. Lu Yang was right--they'd unearthed talent, drive, and a desperation that translated into relentless work. Thus, they deserved the cauldron of his finest.
His eyes swept over the gathered workers for a moment as he smiled, their attention fully drawn to the bubbling cauldrons--yes, he'd stirred eight in total, figuring it would be enough. However, just then, his heart stopped as he nearly cursed out; of course they'd come. They'd sooner sleep through the apocalypse than miss a meal.
For now, they stayed huddled between the trees, which was why he almost didn't notice them, but the Spirits (and animals alike) were here, prompting him to sigh and start up another ten batches, figuring that might just barely be enough. Though he had been rather liberal with tossing in the ingredients thus far, the truth was that there was a level of concern within him; while the Forest may have a near inexhaustible source of legendary plants and such, it was precisely that: near inexhaustible. If he burned through it at this (and possibly accelerated) pace, he'd soon run out. He noted that he'd have to inquire with Lu Yang, and perhaps even some Spirits, about some replanting efforts.
The first batch was ready within fifteen minutes and, with some help from Lu Yang, was quickly distilled over to the first group. Soon after, the second batch was done, and within five minutes, the remaining four meant for people were also done.
While the others were still cooking for the Spirits that had slowly begun creeping out of the woods, startling the people in the process, Leo's eyes shifted to the oddly white-haired youth, Ye Bao, the young 'boy' Lu Yang recommended. Though he was supposedly sixteen or seventeen, he looked less his age than even Liang. Though not quite as tall or as broad as the latter, he was still at least six-three or six-four, which begged the question of... how?
As far as Leo knew, the greatest key contributor to height besides genetics was nutrition, which was why the average height in modern times was the highest it had ever been. That wasn't to say there weren't tall people before--there naturally were--but that they were far less common, as far fewer people had access to the levels of food necessary. And yet, Ye Bao, the supposed homeless youth that was the first to join Lu Yang, grew to be almost as tall as Liang, who had sect resources at his disposal for over a decade now.
The boy ate with a focused intensity and gusto that bordered desperation. In one breath, it was kind of funny, as though he were battling food; in another, however, it was just depressing.
Ye Bao felt the first spoonful hit his stomach like a contained explosion. Not painful, but powerful, a surge of warmth billowing out from his stomach into every inch of his body. Though he'd already begun cultivating, at least according to some other people here, and he felt himself stronger, it was only right now that he truly sensed it. It was as though his mind was cracked open and he could see past the thin veil shielding the world's true nature--colors grew ever brighter, sounds ever louder and more distinct, and every function of his own body became prominent, so much so that it scared him.
He could hear his blood rushing through his veins as much as he could feel it. Each bite felt more desperate, as though he were clawing for strength that would fade at any moment... but it never did. It was his own; it became part of him, forever there. All by the blessings of a simple choice: that he'd come here to die.
Perhaps, in a way, he did die. And was then reborn. Like the legendary Phoenix, he fancied, if only so in the depths of his soul. This grace was given to him... though for what reason, he was uncertain. Would it all be thieved away in the end? Was all this just a preamble to the sadistic cruelty that was to come?
Ye Bao knew cruelty, intimately. He knew evil as much as one could. Any time he'd look into people's eyes, he could see whether there was the stench and reek of evil within them. He could feel it within their touch, cold and diabolical, and within the sound of their voice. Years of pain had attuned his mind and body to all manners of malice... which was what scared him.
He felt no malice here.
Yes, Leader Lu Yang was proud, as was Elder Ag, and even the young girl who seemed to be his age, Zexian. They were proud, and the way they spoke to Ye Bao and others reflected that; there was a level of detachment, a level of condescension that they could not hide no matter how they tried. However... that was it. There was no evil.
That was especially true with him.
Ye Bao looked up and, coincidentally, saw that the man was looking at him, too. He introduced himself only as 'Leo' on the first day, gave a brief speech, and then just... disappeared. They hadn't seen him since. However, there was no doubt that he was the leader. The way others, including Leader Lu Yang, looked at him... the way animals in the forest would orbit him... he was the totem holding up the sky above this place. However, he didn't seem to even have that pride. That inborn derision toward the lesser.
Rather, he spoke to everyone equally. Even now, as some old man approached him and asked for another bowl, he happily poured him one and even chatted for a moment.
How?
Why?
Ye Bao wondered whether he would be that way if he had the power to command the world. Would he? No. He wasn't a good person, he knew. Perhaps not as evil as those who'd twisted his mind, but he was not good, either. Good was an abstraction that the broken could not afford.
Shockingly, Master Leo suddenly walked over toward Ye Bao and even sat down in front of him as the latter finished his meal. There was a smile hanging loosely beneath the thick beard, creases in the slightly aged face perfectly alight with... kindness.
"You want another one, too?" Master Leo asked.
"A-ah? No, no, I'm fine with just one..." Ye Bao responded rather awkwardly.
"Is that so? If we are going to be friends, you will have to stop lying to me."
"F-friends?"
"Well, Lu Yang suggested I take you in as a Disciple--or, at least, test you as a potential one," he said. "But... I'm not certain, still. I don't care much for talent, you see, or much else of anything that other sects do. Do you think I should take you in as a disciple?" Ye Bao nearly spat out 'Yes' by instinct... but held himself back. This was a test! It must be!
And yet... he didn't feel like it was. It was just a... question. An honest, direct, unmasked question. There were no hidden words or meanings, no need for any deeper discernment. The man asked with honesty... and all he wanted was honesty in return.
"... yes," Ye Bao squeezed through his teeth. "I, I am not good... I am not strong, or smart, or funny. Not talented, either. But you said... you said any one of us could become Disciples. That means, that means even someone like me could."
"Hm," Master Leo hummed for a moment, chuckling. "Alright. Come back over tonight with Lu Yang. You will stay evenings and nights at the longhouse, but you will still have to come back here every day and work. Are you okay with that?"
"Y-yes! Of course!" Ye Bao exclaimed, his voice shaking and cracking. "Of, of course!"
"Ha ha, it seems that even if I wanted to, I couldn't tear you away from the construction work?" The bearded figure laughed rather merrily before standing up, reaching over, and patting Ye Bao's head. He almost reflexively evaded, over a decade of experiences teaching him to do precisely that, but just barely held it in; there was no pain, just a gentle, warm touch that lasted for a passing moment. "Sorry. I have a rather annoying habit of patting people's heads, be they friends or strangers."
"It's okay..."
"It's not easy to catch the old man Yang's eyes. There was a reason why he suggested you, Ye Bao. Maybe even you don't know why, and I certainly don't, but I trust his judgment more than I trust mine. So, just work hard, believe in yourself, and let come what may. Life is a river, I've learned, and we are merely pebbles swept by its currents."