The first order of business upon arriving to study at the Inkbound Order: sating my hunger.
Following the scent of food, I found my way to the Dining Hall just in time for the meal. The place was packed, dialects from all directions mixing together. For the last few scoops of braised pork, people whipped out fans, brushes, blade sheaths, sword sheaths—each showing off their own trick—but none could outmatch the aunties' and uncles' ladles. Wherever the meat landed, that ladle had the final say.
A disciple with a plate in his hand urged me: Quit idling, there's more over there!
Once full, I went out and wandered around.
At Pine Breeze Lodge, a junior brother crouched by the door mending his socks, stitches crooked and uneven; a passing senior brother couldn't stand it: "Ugh... let me do it!" At Canglang Lodge, a junior sister nodded over her book like she was pounding garlic, while the senior sister beside her sighed and rubbed her temples: "Ugh... let me do it!" Over at Noble Courtyard, things were lively too. A young man and woman traded trash talk with full lungs, each vowing to outscore the other in the next evaluation.
Beside it lay a huge Cuju field, with people strolling, jogging, practicing Tai Chi, spinning like the wind atop the kongs... everyone busy with their own thing. Over there, a few disciples were juggling a ball. One kick sent it flying... straight into the inkstone-washing pond, splattering ink everywhere.
By the pond, several people crouched, rinsing brushes and inkstones. One disciple had just picked up an inkstone, examining it against the sun like appraising a treasure... only to be unluckily splashed head to toe with "ink water." The ball-chaser rushed over, hastily apologizing, while the inkstone-washer grinned and flicked a handful of ink right back at him.
Next to the inkstone-washing pond was the quiet study room. Once the door shut, you could even hear the rustle of turning pages. I tiptoed away and returned to the resting room. Some lounged about reading casual books, others leaned by the window murmuring about Jianghu gossip, and in the corner sat a wine jug... seems this gossip pairs quite well with drink!
This place doesn't seem to have too many rules. All sorts of people here, each at ease in their own way. Some resting, some playing, some studying... a hundred different postures, each finding their place, like a miniature Jianghu condensed into one.
The difference is, this place carries a rare sense of ease and calm you don't find outside. Everyone looks like a little sparrow preening its feathers and drying its wings, perhaps all sheltered beneath the wings of some great roc.
Ah, how nice it is to be young.
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