Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today

Paralyzed, Hui laid on the ground like a dead fish. Poison pumped through his veins, burning him from the inside out. He closed his eyes and focused, guiding his qi toward the poison. His qi fought him, refusing to obey his orders. It trashed out of his hold and blasted on, ignoring the poison.

The poison met his qi. Instantly, his qi went cold and dark. The rioting qi carried the poison faster. In the space of a few heartbeats, all the qi in his body had fallen still.

Wait. Is this… is this the stuff that went into Zhubi’s veins when he used the play-dead technique?

Hui focused on his limbs. Dimly, he felt his hands, his fingers. With all the effort he could muster, he curled his fingers. They responded sluggishly, stiff and cold.

Get up. Come on.

Already, heat burned in his dantian. There, his qi still boiled, threatening to break out again. If he laid here, then, in the time it took an incense stick to burn, the venom would wear off, and he’d be back where he started.

Before that happens, I have to solve this, somehow!

He looked up the mountain, turning his heavy head. Master… who knows if he’s paying attention? I can’t count on him.

Then… who else? He turned down the peak, toward the rest of the sect. His eyes settled on a pillar of multicolored smoke in the distance.

Zhubi’s venom saved me. If nothing else, I can get Cauldron Peak to brew a potion like it until I can figure out a permanent solution.

Slowly, Hui pushed himself upright. Every limb weighed a thousand pounds. Every step seemed to last a mile. “Sorry, Lao, but it’s life or death, okay?”

Around his neck, Zhubi coiled slowly, big, round eyes looking up at him. He patted the snake’s head. “Thanks, boy. I would’ve been dead without you.”

Pleased, Zhubi fluttered his tongue against Hui’s neck.

Hui laughed. “Ah, tickles!”

Near the bottom of his master’s peak, Hui paused. He stared down a steep embankment at the intersection of the peaks below, lips pressed in a line. My blue robes make me stand out. Anyone would recognize me as an inheriting disciple, and from there, it’s a matter of time before they figure out whose. I have a set of white robes, but I left them at the top of the peak. I don’t have time to go back.

Laughter broke through his thoughts. A trio of female cultivators in the rough linens of the outer sect walked by below, each carrying a massive basket full of white robes on her back. The lead girl had bright eyes and her hair up in dumpling buns, the left girl had a stern demeanor, spectacles, and long, straight hair, and the right girl had her hair done in an ornate braided style, dripping pins and ornaments.

Hui’s eyes lit up. Hesitating no longer, he threw himself down the side of the peak. Thumping and tumbling, he smashed into stones and trees and splashed into a small creek. Mud splattered all over his robes. A canny observer might have noted the way he seemed to fall toward the mud and undergrowth, while simultaneously avoiding the twisted patches of brambles nearby.

A bedraggled youth rolled out at the female cultivators’ feet. The nearest cultivator shrieked and jumped back, while the other two stared warily.

“Owowow…” Rubbing his head, Hui sat up. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, then frowned when he only succeeded at putting more mud on himself. After a second, he looked around and found the female cultivators. Startled, Hui jumped, then smiled. “What a wonderful coincidence!”

“What is?” the ornamented girl asked.

Hui gave a pitiful sigh and drooped his sleeves at them. “My robes are ruined! I was on my way to greet my master, but how can I face him in this state? Fairy maidens, could you spare a robe?”

“All these robes belong to people. We can’t just hand them out,” the stern girl replied.

Hui pulled at his robes, undoing them, and started to strip, revealing his thin underrobes. “Please, fairy maidens? I’ll return it straight after, I promise.”

The ornamented cultivator shrieked and covered her face. The stern one blushed and turned away. Squinting her eyes shut, the bright-eyed girl held out a robe in a trembling hand. “P-put it on!”

Haha, take my modern morals! It means nothing to me to show you my underrobes. Even if I stripped shirtless or down to my loincloth, I’d feel nothing! Triumphant, Hui accepted the robe and swapped it out for his own. He folded his dirty robes neatly, then threw the pile frisbee-style up the peak, beyond the barrier.

Adjusting his new robes, Hui nodded at the girls. “Thank you, fairy maidens.”

“Honestly! These new disciples…” the stern girl started.

She and the ornamented girl started away. The final cultivator, the bright-eyed one, hesitated just a second longer, her eyes lingering on Hui’s frame.

He gave her a smile and a nod. I really am handsome in this life, huh?

Blushing furiously, the bright-eyed girl rushed away.

Pulling the hems of his robe shut in the front, Hui’s fingers brushed over a patch of embroidery. He peeked inside. A name was stitched into the lining of the robe in red. Li Xiang.

Hui closed his robes. If I can’t find the laundry, I can always return it to the man himself.

His dantian ached. In response, his qi shuddered, half-awakening. Hui jolted back into motion and hurried toward Cauldron Peak. No time to waste!

--

An Ye turned toward her fellow laundry girls. “That man…”

“The rude one?” the bespectacled Cai Fang asked.

“We… we’re doing female laundry today, right?”

Cai Fang paused. She shrugged. “Men and women wear the same style of robes in our sect. He’ll be fine.”

An Ye looked at the robe in her hands, then shook her head. “I wonder…”