Han Xiangxun

Qingming Festival always came with a bothersome, gloomy drizzle. Streets became less crowded, and even the regulars of Blissful Retreat gave up their drinks. On such quiet days, Shopkeeper Han allowed the Young Master to go out and play. At Heaven's Pier, the Young Master noticed a farmer burning joss paper to honor his ancestors. Finding it amusing, the Young Master approached to watch. Then he grabbed some scrap paper and burned it in the same way. Shopkeeper Han waited and waited for the Young Master to come back, but even as the sun began to set, no sign of him appeared. So, she headed towards Heaven's Pier to find the Young Master, and find him, she did—just not in the way she expected. There was a figure swaying from side to side, feeding scraps of joss paper into the fire and mumbling gibberish. That evening, many people at Heaven's Pier saw the Young Master being brought back to Blissful Retreat by Shopkeeper Han. As they walked, Shopkeeper Han said, "When I die, you'd better burn more joss paper for me. I'd like a life of plenty in the afterlife too." Her stern words carried a warmth that spread throughout Heaven's Pier. The villagers chuckled, sure that the Young Master was going to catch it yet again tonight. Then, they turned back to prepare dinner. The next day, the poor Young Master still had puffy eyes, barely able to keep them open. Holding a boiled egg Shopkeeper Han had prepared, the Young Master carried on adventuring.

Han Xiangxun has roamed the jianghu for years and prided herself on having met all kinds of odd and unforgettable souls, but never has she seen someone traveling the world with a child in arms. "Hey you! Living on the edge, risking your neck? Fine, that's your business. But what's with dragging a kid along? Some lover dumped the kid on you or something?" "The kid's adopted." "... Well. That's unexpectedly soft-hearted of you." "No family, no home. It was pouring. What else was I supposed to do? Leave the kid there?" Han Xiangxun didn't reply, but her eyes lingered on him. He didn't so much as pat the child's back, didn't offer a word of comfort. He didn't look like a father at all. The sound of approaching enemies began to echo from down the path. After a brief pause, she clicked her tongue, muttered a curse, and hurled her cicada wing pendant toward him. "Let's be clear. I'm doing this for the kid, not because I care if you make it out alive." "Thank you," Jiang Wulang said, already turning to slash down an enemy emerging from the trees behind her. In one fluid motion, he wrapped the pendant around the child.

One day, as Han Xiangxun traveled through a remote village, her eyes were drawn to a figure lying awkwardly on a donkey by the roadside. Intrigued, she stopped and took a second glance. The man, though his eyes were closed, seemed to sense her presence and spoke, "Your fate is quite unusual." Han Xiangxun scanned the area, ensuring there was no one else around, and then realized he was speaking directly to her. "Out here in the wilderness, what could you possibly swindle me out of?" The man chuckled softly, then continued, "Your year pillar shows calamity, your day pillar shows loneliness. When these two stars align in one's fate, that person is marked by the doomed loner." "Doomed loner? So what then?" "A doomed loner lives without parents, without kin. Marry, and your spouse will die; have children, and they will suffer." Silence hung in the air as Han Xiangxun took in his words. He had indeed revealed all those misfortunes in the first half of her life. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Was it just fate that had shaped all the misfortune in her life? "I've long known my life's a mess. Don't need some damned priest rubbing salt in the wound!" "No, no, it's not because of you. This fate belongs to a man, someone very close to you. You, however, are merely caught in the ripple of it." "Someone... close to me?" Han Xiangxun's mind raced, her anger and hatred flaring as she remembered her father who had sold his wife and children without a second thought. "It is him, and also not..." The man fell silent, urging his donkey forward, leaving Han Xiangxun standing there.

"Oh, little master, mind the scaffolding! If anything is not to your liking, just give the word." Uncle Zhou scooped up the boisterous child and set him down beneath the bamboo shade. Settling only briefly, the boy grumbled about the lanterns being too thin and then scrambled onto Uncle Mi's back to fuss over a wooden chair. Finally, he squatted by Autie Tian, gravely critiquing the embroidered ducks and geese on the linens. In short, nothing in this new house was quite right for the little master. At their wits' end, the workers cast their eyes toward their Mistress, waiting for her to intervene. This was the third house the little master had rejected. The first two had already been razed and rebuilt. "Come here." Han Xiangxun watched the boy dashing about the yard, her grip tightening on her abacus. The boy was growing up; it was time he had his own quarters. For this grand endeavor, the Blissful Retreat had been shuttered for nearly half a year. Yet the little master's whims changed with the tide, one day demanding narrow doors with stout furniture, the next, slender pieces with broad entryways. Han Xiangxun had asked many times what he truly desired, but the child could offer no clear answer. So they indulged him, revising day by day, until three months had slipped away. She had meant to be patient, but with the third house nearing completion, the boy continued his fussing, still unsatisfied. "The last time! One final change, and no more." Han Xiangxun shrugged off the boy's feigned wailing and walked away. That night, a "guest" at the Evercare Clinic awaited her routine rounds. At midnight, beneath the full moon, she thought of the boy's daytime antics and how he had been frightened later that evening. She sighed at last. Sitting by his bedside, she hummed a nursery rhyme from her distant home. Beneath the quilt, the child lay curled in a ball, sobbing in his drowsy state. As stars drifted and the moon paled, she caressed his sleeping face and tucked the corners of his blanket tight. "...No new house... I don't want to grow up... I don't want to be apart..." "Foolish child," she whispered. "You will grow up, and I shall..." As if a thought struck her, she leaned closer. "When that day comes, even if you are left alone, you must fare well." A softer murmur drifted up. "Mother..." As she moved to rise, the woman nearly lost her composure to tears. Let him fuss for a few more months. Let her indulge him just a little while longer. Before the day of parting, before that day which must inevitably come.