K.J.Clay
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Chapter 22 - A Night of 'Fun'
🕑 Added 2024-08-16 00:00:05 +0000 UTCZhujiao’s feet dragged as he staggered through the narrow hallway towards his room. Lao Yi clearly took his choice of the quick route as something of a challenge and wasted precisely no time assigning him horrid tasks.
For starters, he had learned that while he had somehow miraculously avoided any permanent damage from his ‘miserable excuse for a cultivation method’ – his master’s words – there was still a certain amount of recovery to be had.
Recovery that consisted largely of purging the remnant Qi from his channels, ridding himself of the taint of failure. Again, Lao Yi’s words.
It wasn’t a terribly complicated process – just a matter of slowly and methodically expelling the residual energies from his meridians – but calling it exhausting somehow felt inadequate. It wasn’t a purely physical sensation, either, somehow feeling vaguely like an unholy cross between running a marathon, cramming for an exam, and having all of his blood drained out of him all at the same time.
Even worse, he had been strictly forbidden from using his cycling technique or drawing in any more Qi. So not only did he feel like a collection of wet noodles, he wasn’t even allowed to do anything about it.
Still, as much as he hated to admit it, he did feel somewhat more… settled, was the only word that came to mind. He had gotten used to the bright, energising feeling of his Qi rushing through his body, but now that it was gone, he realised it had been more of a sugar rush than anything else.
Fun in the short term, but the crash was always going to be miserable.
As he approached his door, Zhujiao’s shoulders sagged. He could already feel the strain of another day of purging waiting for him tomorrow. Lao Yi had told him he was making good progress, but even still, he had at least another two days before the process was complete.
He had been mentally comparing the whole thing to accidentally putting petrol in a diesel engine, something he had accidentally done… more times than he was comfortable admitting. It was always a massive pain having to completely drain the tank before filling it back up again, but it was an unfortunate part of the process and trying to skip it did no one any favours.
As Zhujiao reached for the handle of his door, a familiar voice called out from behind him. He turned to see Liang strolling down the hallway, a casual smile on his face.
“Hey, you look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Liang remarked lightly. Zhujiao forced a tired smile in return, though it came out more as a grimace.
“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He was too tired to bother trying to talk around the whole cultivation thing – and however nice his neighbour seemed, Zhujiao was hardly going to trust him with that information.
Liang blinked at the lackadaisical reply but pushed through with the grace of a born extrovert. “You know what you need?” the older boy asked conspiratorially.
“About sixteen hours of sleep?” Zhujiao asked, only half joking.
“Ha! No, what you need to do is relax. I’m about to meet up with some friends for a drink, you should come along! Too much time spent locked away indoors is bad for you!”
… They clearly had very different ideas on what constituted ‘relaxing’.
“Uh, thanks for the offer and all, but I’ve never much enjoyed drinking tea,” Zhujiao shrugged at his neighbour, hoping the excuse would be enough.
It wasn’t even a lie, either. The people here seemed to love drinking their tea, and his mother had always been quietly horrified that he didn’t. He just couldn’t see the appeal of drinking hot leaf juice, no matter how much of a cultural cornerstone it seemed to be in this new world.
“Good thing we’re not going to be drinking tea then, isn’t it?” Liang shot back, grinning.
It took Zhujiao a moment to figure out what he was talking about, and when he did, all he could do was gape. Alcohol? He was twelve, for God’s sake. More importantly, he looked twelve, which meant that even if he wanted a drink, no establishment would serve him.
“Don’t you think I’m a little young for that?” he managed to avoid sounding too sarcastic.
Liang raised an eyebrow somewhat sympathetically. “You might be a little young, sure, but you have a job, you’re taking care of yourself, and let’s face it; there’s no one around to look twice if a few orphans have a few drinks.”
That… was a better point than he had expected. Not to mention that Liang’s reaction had reminded him that people here had a much more relaxed view on drinking. A fifteen-year-old was considered an adult here, so chances were that as long as he didn’t get plastered, no one would bat an eye at someone his age sneaking a drink.
Coupled with the reminder that, yeah, he was all alone in the world… well, a drink was sounding really tempting right now. A look at Liang’s encouraging expression had his resolve wavering.
“Ah, stuff it. Maybe I could use a distraction right now.”
Liang grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just wait; you’ll feel like a new man after this.”
So far, his first drinking experience in his new life wasn’t much different from his first drink in the Before. There was the initial slight thrill of doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, but that only lasted until he’d followed Liang to a corner table and no one had so much as looked twice at them.
It just wasn’t the same if nobody cared.
The bar – or tavern, he’d never really figured out the vernacular – was hardly anything to write home about either. The door creaked, the tables were uneven, and the floor was sticky. It was the quintessential cheap dockside bar filled with rough-and-tumble types.
Slightly embarrassingly, he hadn’t even realised the city had any docks until tonight. Sure, it was hardly relevant to his situation, but still. Turns out that the city was situated along the Jiangyun River, which was a major trade route. It explained the size of the city, along with the price of the drinks. Sailors or dockhands must be making more money than he thought to be able to afford this.
Fortunately for his wallet, Liang was nice enough to pay for his first drink – three copper jots for a drink was highway robbery as far as he was concerned.
Zhujiao settled into a wooden chair at the back table, its legs wobbling unevenly on the stained floor. The table itself was pockmarked with burn marks, knife gouges, and the occasional unidentifiable stain, each telling its own story of rough patrons and rowdy nights. The smell of stale ale and sweat hung in the air, mingling with the occasional whiff of something more pungent that made him wrinkle his nose.
Liang, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed smile. He took a sip of his drink, a murky liquid that smelled vaguely of fermented fruit, and glanced around the room as if it were the most natural place in the world to be.
Zhujiao was tired enough that his brain was only about half functional, but even still, he couldn’t help but be curious. He really didn’t know anything about his neighbour, and for the first time he considered that maybe following a virtual stranger to a rougher part of town possibly wasn’t the best idea in the world.
He snorted softly down into his own - untouched - drink. Considering he worked in the worst part of town, he should probably be feeling right at home here. He took a tentative sip of his drink, grimacing at the bitter taste.
They said free drinks tasted better, which said terrible things about whatever this was.
Still, while it wasn’t the most pleasant thing in the world, it did warm him from the inside out and seem to take the edge off his exhaustion.
As they waited for Liang’s friends to arrive, Zhujiao let his gaze wander around the room. The walls were adorned with faded papers and peeling paint, and the bar counter looked like it hadn’t seen a thorough cleaning in years. A lone bartender worked behind it, his movements slow and deliberate as he poured drinks and wiped down mugs with a rag that might have been clean once upon a time.
A deafening crash drew his attention to a group of men in the corner, arguing over a spilled drink. One of them, a burly man with a thick beard and tattoos snaking up his arms, slammed his fist on the table, cracking it down the middle.
The bartender shouted something vaguely threatening, and the tension seemed almost palpable. Liang seemed to notice his discomfort and leaned in, speaking quietly. “Relax, they’re just blowing off steam. This place might look rough, but as long as you mind your own business, you’ll be fine.” He offered an encouraging smile before taking another sip of his drink.
Honestly, this was starting to feel like more trouble than it was worth. Surely Liang wouldn’t be too offended if he dipped out early? Zhujiao briefly wondered when the older boy’s opinion had started mattering to him. Maybe the lack of a social life was making him latch on to the first source of friendly interaction?
He took another bracing sip of his drink. Liang’s friends were already late, and each passing minute made him feel more out of place. Five minutes, he decided. If the others hadn’t shown up in five minutes, he would make his excuses and leave.
Four minutes and change later, just as he was trying to figure out the least offensive way to leave, the door to the tavern swung open and a group of three individuals sauntered in.
Liang waved them over, a broad smile on his face. “Hey, over here!” he called out, causing the group to head straight for their table. Zhujiao started getting a bad feeling as he spotted the red armbands each person was wearing. He hadn’t explicitly noted the location of the tavern in relation to gang territory, and was starting to regret that choice.
The Red Talons were hardly the worst gang to call the city home, but he hardly wanted to get involved with them regardless. Not to mention… well, it raised some questions about Liang, that was for sure.
“Liang, who’s this?” asked the tallest of the three, a man with a jagged scar running down his cheek. He leaned over the table, eyes fixed on Zhujiao with an unsettling intensity.
“This is Zhujiao,” Liang replied, his tone almost too casual. “He’s a friend of mine.”
Zhujiao forced a polite nod, but he could feel his pulse quickening. The other two Red Talons, a burly woman with a collection of knives strapped to her belt and a lanky young man with shifty eyes, took seats around the table, effectively blocking any accessible escape routes.
“So, you’re the one working for Lao Yi,” the scarred man continued, not bothering with introductions. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Zhujiao swallowed hard. “Oh? I didn’t realise I was that interesting,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, though his voice betrayed his unease. This situation was quickly going from bad to worse.
The woman leaned in, a predatory smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you’re very interesting. A boy like you, spending his time helping the poor and downtrodden in the slums? So… admirable.”
Her tone suggested it was anything but.
“What can I say?” He responded, aiming for casual and trying not to be too obvious about looking towards the exit. “I like helping people.”
The woman seemed to find that hilarious. The scarred man and the shifty-looking one notably didn’t.
“Such a hero,” she teased, eyes glittering, “but you know, the slums are a dangerous place. I would hate for anything to happen to a young hero like yourself. Of course, we like to keep an eye out for people like yourself, make sure you’re safe. For a small, modest fee, of course.”
Zhujiao swallowed again but, despite the situation, actually relaxed a little. He was clearly too small a fish to bother with – it would be downright shocking if his meagre funds were enough to interest a gang like the Red Talons – so chances were this actually had to do with the clinic.
That didn’t mean he was safe, but at least it meant that they probably didn’t care about him personally. And he rather doubted anything they could do would bother Lao Yi.
“But you see, there’s been a bit of a problem,” the woman continued, feigning concern. “You see, Lao Yi has been a bit… lax with his payments lately. Our updated protection fees are quite reasonable, but he seems to think he can ignore them.”
He tensed again, suddenly realising that even if their problem was with Lao Yi, they probably wouldn’t actually target him. No need to hinder their source of income. An apprentice, on the other hand… well, he was a little more disposable.
“I’m just an apprentice. I don’t really handle any of that.”
“Maybe not,” the scarred man said, his voice dripping with menace. “But you do work for him. And if he doesn’t start paying up, well, things could get… complicated for you.”
…Great.
Zhujiao clenched his fists under the table, willing himself to stay calm. “I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.
The lanky young man snickered. “You hear that, Kai? He’ll pass along the message. How considerate.”
Kai, the scarred man, chuckled darkly. “You do that, kid. And make sure Lao Yi knows we don’t like being ignored. Otherwise, your little apprenticeship might come to an abrupt end.”
Zhujiao nodded, his throat dry. “I understand.”
“Words I like to hear,” Kai smirked. “Don’t worry about finding us when you have some good news to share – we’ll find you.”
The fact that he’d better have some good news went unmentioned. Having delivered their message, the trio stood and headed towards the door without another word. Zhujiao tried not to be too obvious about how he slumped back in his seat.
Liang shifted in his chair awkwardly, and Zhujiao shot him a glare. The older boy avoided his eyes but didn’t seem to feel too guilty about his actions.
“Look, I get that you might be feeling a little annoyed with me right now, but trust me, this is the best way things could have gone,” he tried explaining.
“The best—” Zhujiao cut himself off. “No. I don’t care.”
He stood, turning to leave, but Liang stood with him.
“Look, it’s easy to be all high and mighty when you have options,” the older boy snapped. “I didn’t get an apprenticeship right out the gate, okay? I needed to make friends with anyone who could help. Look, just… stay and finish your drink, at least. Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy.”
“Good for you.” Zhujiao retorted flatly. “But that doesn’t make you my friend either.”
He turned and headed for the door, tossing a sarcastic “Thanks for the drink” over his shoulder as he went.
He sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets and angling back towards home – such as it was. So much for a relaxing night out – right now, he felt more stressed and tired than ever.
Comments
Connor Charlton
TYFTC!
