Beware Of Chicken-Novel

Drums thundered. Instruments clanged; Firecrackers popped and banged. The scent of food filled the air.

In the middle of a village, two dragons hopped and skipped, moving in time to the beat. The children shrieked and gleefully chased after their tails as they moved through the streets, performing acrobatic stunts. One was a puppet, clad in red as the elders displayed their skill; the other was bright blue and alive, with beady, fishy eyes and a lovely tailfin.

It was the kind of thing that you just had to stop and witness. I absently heard somebody yelp accompanied by the slight smell of burning food as a cook forgot to move their wok enough, too engrossed in the performance. Tigu and Yin were up there too, with the kids, dancing in time to the beat trailing after the dragons.

The dance entered its final stages, as the movements got faster. The dragon puppet leapt and bounded onto nearby walls, before they ran halfway up a building and performed a three man synchronized backflip in full costume. It still amazed me that Pops, Ten Ren, and Yao Che were so synchronized. They were even smoother than last year— and then they did another few, bounding all over the village in a burst of frantic energy as the drums reached a fever pitch. Washy rocketed into the air, letting out a magnificent roar that sent everybody cheering, while the village elders posed their own dragon on the earth.

The cheers echoed through the entire village as Tigu clapped Washy on the shoulder, nodding her head. A rooster crowed and a massive boar squealed with encouragement.

The elders clambered out of the dragon costume, sweaty and red faced, but still looking relatively fresh. I clapped along with everyone in appreciation for the performance. The elders walked over to the feast table along with Washy who quickly claimed a place at the table, a platter of food being put in front of him.

The spell finally broke, and I returned to my job, getting more firewood for the stoves. You know how you could tell if you were “just a guest” or actually part of the village?

The guests didn’t help out.

This year, instead of sitting at the head table as an honoured guest, I asked for a job, and I got it. It was just transporting firewood, but it was still nice to be helpful.

The others were helping out in their own way too. Babe was, surprisingly, with the cooks, helping out in his own way. He was kind of slow, his cuts made with exacting deliberation as he held a knife in his mouth, each object examined carefully after. Honestly, he was probably more of a hindrance than a help with how slow he was… but nobody seemed to mind, instead the older aunties praising his perfectly cut sizes. Besides, he had helped enough with the road and he had the goodwill of the men, who clapped him on his broad shoulders. Yao Che had, before he started the dance, even offered to look at Sunny the Plough and make sure it was well maintained. Chunky, Peppa, and Hou Ten were out transporting food to the tables. It was kind of a buffet style, as it had to be, everybody coming and going as they grabbed from the platters.

Big D and Maintiao were with the true elders of the village. The oldest men and women puffing pipes, deep in consideration as they stared at the Go board. It looked to be a two versus two, a chicken and a snake versus the two people who had roundly trounced me the last time we played.

From what I could tell the game was even, the old timers meeting ones who could finally match their wits.

Then again, I got my butt kicked by Meiling’s little brother, so I was probably the worst Go player in the village.

The festival was definitely a success so far. We had all gotten up early to aid in the preparations… and caught Gou Ren and Xianghua wandering back into the village.

“Indeed! He was most manly; he challenged me for the sake of a mortal man, knowing he could lose!” she boasted, her voice loud. “His courage captured this Young Mistress' interest!”

The titters that followed were very loud.

“Oh, manly is he?” one of the older women asked.

Xianghua pulled open Gou Ren’s shirt further, exposing his abs. “Behold!” she proclaimed.

The old ladies swooned in feigned drama. Gou Ren looked like he wanted to die.

I simply shook my head before looking at Meimei, who was putting the finishing touches on some stir fry, flipping rice with practiced ease. She seemed amused and shook her head.

“What do you think?” I asked as I wandered over.

“Like you said. A bit nuts… but she’s a good person,'' my wife opined. She finished chopping some vegetables up and handed them off to another woman. “Like Xiulan was, for a bit.”

I nodded. Xianghua had certainly made an impact in the week she had been here. It wasn’t every day that a cultivator dropped by, proceeded to start learning how to dress furs from the resident hunter, and started calling him “Honoured Father” and his wife “Honoured Mother”.

Hells, she had even helped out packing away the harvest!

At first, though, Pops told me he had been wondering how to sneak out of the village to come get me, just in case, but then Yun Ren had arrived and, after a moment of shock at her being here so soon, had vouched for her. He had retold the story of her defending Gou Ren, complete with images from his crystal and illusions on the wall. A true brother, talking up the woman Gou Ren liked. Well, after that, Xianghua was an honorary member of Hong Yaowu.

Of course, Yun Ren then kept it a secret so he could spring it on his brother later.

I approved. It was kind of mean, but witnessing Gou Ren’s face had been hilarious.

I moved past Xiulan, who was utterly bedecked in crowns of reeds and ivy and had a beautifully carved bracelet of wood. The quiet girl, Liu, always added more to the beautiful woman, and Lanlan looked a bit like some kind of nature goddess of old, surrounded by her panoply of knives and cooking implements. She nodded at me as she picked up a platter of dumplings, and walked to the head table, putting them in front of Gou Ren and Xianghua, evidently intent on getting in on the teasing.

Xianghua, however, opened fire immediately.

“Cai Xiulan! I praise your cooking! Truly, this is the best place for you, to be serving this Young Mistress!” She said with a catty smile. Xiulan’s smile turned sickly sweet.

And then she made a very rude gesture at Xianghua.

“I thought I would give this to you, Dear Damp Pond. You look so very malnourished, I couldn’t leave you alone!”

Xianghua burst out laughing. “You’re much better this way, Blade of Grass!” Xianghua said. “Come! Sit with me! Tigu, you must as well! I deign to listen to the story of your lives!”

Xiulan rolled her eyes, but obliged the boisterous woman, poking Gou Ren in the side as she sat down.

Once all the food was prepared and we were stocked with everything needed for the feast it was time for things to truly get going. We would be cleaning up later, but for the moment everything was done. We all sat down at the head table. I was to the right of Pops and I poured him a drink. It was something a junior did to a social superior. And while technically a cultivator outranked any mortal… that was stupid. This was Pops. I respected him.

Hong Xian was a rather thin looking man, with the same long greenish hair as Meimei. He was quite good looking, I had to say, his face was framed with a small goatee. His eyes were quite dark and he had several wrinkles on his face—mostly smile lines, though there were the errant few from worry.

He smiled back at me, raising his filled cup to his lips.

“What a year it's been, no?” he asked me after a moment while he stared over his village. His eyes were proud as he looked at his people.

“What a year it’s been,” I agreed and clinked glasses with him.

He took a drink of the liquid within, like it was rice wine. His eyes widened and his face tightened, but he managed to swallow the vodka.

“Quite strong, my son. But did you think this old timer could be caught by a trick like that?” he asked, swatting my head for my cheek. He coughed slightly and examined the clear liquid. “... I take it your “distillation” was successful, then?”

“Yup. This is the base, but if we go for another run or two we’ll get an alcohol that’s so strong you can’t drink it but is a powerful disinfectant.”

My father in law smiled at my words. His eyes were on me and full of… well, it was an emotion that struck me deep.

“...I’m glad you came north, my son.” Simple words, in a tone of voice that hurt just a bit.

I blushed and scratched the back of my head. My heart skipped a beat and his face flashed with the image of two other men. My father from the Before and Rou’s father, smiling in the same way.

The pride of a father looking at the accomplishments of their son.

I swallowed thickly before clearing my throat and scratching the back of my head.

“Well! That drink tastes better with fruit added. You want to try that?” I asked, changing the subject.

Hong Xian raised an eyebrow. “Ever a new invention with you. Speaking of inventions, the beehives worked wonderfully. The first harvest exceeded my expectations…”

I listened to him talk about the village. The old man described the foolish incidents, the bumps and the bruises. The highs and the lows.

There was an odd sense of nostalgia as I sat with him. The other elders came and went, chiming in with their words. It was like I was a kid again, listening to the tales of my father. I guess in a sense, I was.

We ate, we drank, and we made merry.

Come to think of it… the Mid-Autumn Festival from last year was basically the first time I felt like I truly belonged here.

And this year… Well, this year I was part of the family.

I stared out over the village and soaked in the atmosphere.

================================

“Another year, another set of hangover cures,” my wife declared as she sat over the stove, making one of her elixirs.

I laughed as I righted another table.

I ended the Mid-Autumn Festival less drunk than I had last time. Mostly out of consideration for Meimei, as she couldn’t drink, and it was no fun being the only sober person.

We were cleaning up together, skirting between the countless passed-out forms. We’d collect everybody later and put them to bed, if they hadn't stumbled off. The village was silent as we worked. The story boxes Gou Ren had built had been a massive success, going along with Meimei’s story. It was a production. Meimei’s voice carried over the pseudo animations and the brilliant colours from Yun Ren. Yin shot fire into the air, to be the sun, and Big D shot them down with silver lances.

I snorted at the memory. There wasn’t a wedding date… yet. If only because Xianghua had been too drunk to discuss one.

“You still up to get to Verdant Hill tomorrow? Or should we give it a day?” Meiling asked me. We planned to visit Tingfeng and Meihua, our friends from Verdant Hill.

After a moment of consideration, I nodded.

“Yeah. I have to ask the Lord Magistrate for his advice anyways.”

Because I was in a bit deep and needed somebody to help out. I hated politics like I hated practicing those sword moves.

But sometimes, you have to do things you hate, no matter how off practicing those sword forms felt.

Meimei reached out and squeezed my hand, noticing my silence. Her smile was soft and tender. “You’re going to do fine,” she said with absolute certainty.

I smiled and pulled her into a hug.

And so ended the Mid-Autumn Festival.