Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today -- Complete!

At the base of Cauldron Peak, Hui pulled the pig-skin mask over his face. For a second, he stared through the flaccid eye-holes, and then the mask came to life. Like a human-skin mask, it adapted to his features and hugged close to his face, transforming him.

At last, the motion stopped. Hui walked on, through the space between sects. A little brook trickled along the edge of the path, and he moved over to it, curious. In the stillness of the stream, he caught a glimpse of himself and had to bite back a grimace. His handsome features were just visible enough through the mask’s heavy-handed features to make it tragic. Rather than seeing a hideous pigman, he stared at a horribly disfigured version of himself, which hurt worse than merely seeing a monster. Ugh, who made this thing? Xixing, I don’t question your pill-making skills, but your mask-making could use some work.

He shook his head. I’m not here to be handsome. I can do that later. Still, he let down his ponytail and raked his hair into his face. As I am now, I’m so ugly I might scare someone to death. Best to soften the blow a little.

Joining in with the stream of fellow cultivators, he followed them up Starbound Peak, using the main roads this time. Hurrying back to the cafeteria, he knocked on the back door. “Sis Mei, Sis Mei.”

“What is it, you scamp? Didn’t have en—augh! Who—?” Mei lifted the knife in her hand threateningly.

Hui grabbed at the mask and peeled it up. It stuck to his skin, sticky and uncomfortably moist. “It’s me, me!”

Mei’s eyes widened. “What on earth have you done to yourself?”

Hui grinned and raised a finger to his lips, then drew the mask back down. “Could I ask you a favor?”

She grinned again, leaning against the doorframe, knife clasped against her crossed arms. “Anything. I think of you as a little brother, Hui, you know that.”

“Then… this afternoon, at dinnertime, could I ask you to gather these outer-sect disciples for today’s serving staff?” Hui asked. He handed over a list of names.

Mei took it, frowning. “On such short notice…”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mei. They’re all hard workers, I promise—”

“I don’t doubt that. You’d never do anything to hurt your elder sister, mm?” She winked at him. “Don’t worry, I can make it happen. Can I ask why?”

Hui shrugged. “Best if you don’t know.”

Mei nodded. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“Ah… at the front of the house, for once. In this.” He tapped his face.

Mei grimaced. “You’re perfectly welcome to keep coming back here… even if you wear that mask, if you enter the cafeteria openly, I…”

“Just for today, elder sister Mei. I won’t stay long, either. I don’t want to trouble you,” Hui said earnestly.

She sighed and ruffled his hair. “I’m too soft, too soft.”

Hui’s expression brightened. “Thanks so much, Sis Mei!”

She tutted. “Just this once, though, you got it?”

Hui nodded eagerly. “Thanks so much! You’re the best, Mei.”

“Oh, stop it, you little flatterer.” She shooed him off.

The sun crawled across the sky. Hui wandered over Starbound Peak, struck by his sudden freedom. Dressed in the same white as everyone else, his face distorted by the pig-skin mask, no one stopped him. No one drew back from him or called out. He turned his face to the sky, to the distant summit. This is my second time here today… Lan Taijian has to know. I suppose Lan Taijian can’t be bothered to put in an appearance just to scare off a small disciple like me.

At last, the flow of disciples turned toward the dining hall. Ducking his head, Hui joined the flow and followed a group of four inside, close enough no one stopped to examine him.

Brilliant light awaited him, warm and welcoming. Disciples gathered at small tables around the edges or grouped together at the long tables down the center, chatting with smiles on their faces. Startled, Hui drew to a halt, blinking at the light.

Was it always so warm on the inside? Was it only me, sitting in the back alley, who was so cold?

Someone pushed past him, shooting him a grimace, and he moved on. Though honestly, it’s a bit too noisy. I’ll take my back step any day.

Hui fetched a bowl of rice and joined one of the long tables. He flicked his eyes around, confirming Mei had done as he asked. Familiar faces from the outer sect waited the tables. He smiled into his rice and ate slowly. It felt strange, eating with the mask’s pig lips. He smacked his food more than he was used to, lips clumsy.

Ugh. The sooner I take this off, the better.

A group settled beside him. “…about the duel? It’s in, what, three days?”

“Two, now.”

“I hope Chang Bolin trashes that garbage. Where’s a waste get off being an inheriting disciple, anyways? The faster Chang Bolin takes him out, the better.”

“You’re telling me. After he almost crippled someone with talent over nothing, at that.”

Hui leaned forward. “Was it nothing? I heard Chang Bolin almost killed that Weiheng Hui guy.”

The other disciples frowned at him. The one nearest drew away, pulling his food away from Hui. Afraid he’d get kicked out for being too ugly, Hui drew more hair into his face.

“We would’ve heard, if that was the case. Lan Taijian wouldn’t stand behind Chang Bolin then, right?”

“Yeah, that’s just a rumor,” one of the other disciples dismissed it.

“No, it’s not!”

All of them turned. One of the serving girls glared back, her cheeks flushed from the fear of speaking up. She shook her head, cute pigtails thrashing across her face. “It’s not a rumor. I was there! Chang Bolin—that bully—tried to kill Hui because he was jealous, no other reason!”

One of the disciples furrowed her brows. “Surely Lan Taijian…”

“Lan Taijian hates Weiheng Wu, doesn’t he?” Hui suggested softly.

Her brows lifted, as if she’d just realized something. She glanced at Hui, then averted her eyes in disgust.

“Ah, who cares? I heard he was a waste anyways,” one of the other disciples dismissed.

Hui nodded vaguely, keeping his hair in his face. “Chang Bolin was so jealous of a waste he killed him? Isn’t that concerning? A rabid dog like that… how long before he becomes jealous of someone else?”

“That’s right! He’s a danger to everyone around him. I’m just glad he’s out of the outer sect. He used to spend all day whining about how the sect was wasting his talent in the outer sect…” the serving girl twisted her lips, frustrated.

“Ha! As if none of us did our time in the outer sect,” one of the quieter disciples muttered. “He only spent, what, ten years there? I was out there three decades! Three!”

“Five for me,” another replied.

“And he kept ducking his responsibilities as an outer sect disciple. I hear he refused to take any of the servant shifts, even when he was offered the good ones,” Hui added, throwing fuel on the fire.

The serving girl nodded furiously.

The male disciple who’d dismissed Hui as a waste earlier frowned. “What a disrespectful brat. Does he think he’s better than all of us?”

Joking, the disciple beside him nudged him. “Better than him thinking you’re better than him! Watch out, he might come for you, next!”

A disciple from the table behind theirs turned around. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Listen, did you hear? That Chang Bolin, he…”

Hui smiled slightly to himself and turned back to his rice. My job here is done. He scraped the last of the rice into his sloppy mask-mouth and stood, walking outside into the night.