Interlude: The Bowl
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Chun has served the Endlessly Raging Valley for her entire life.
Her parents had been servants, so when they married and had her and her sister, it was only natural for them to instruct their children in the ways of servitude. Chun can cook, clean, read, write, and move through the estate without bothering anyone. She can speak to her betters without once raising her head and is proficient at various tasks of mundane utility.
That is all she knows.
The majesty of the Jade Hall. The orderly silence of the grand kitchen. The hecticness of the training yard. The sun rising over the fields of green. The never-ending song of the Raging Valley. That is Chun’s world, and she is content with it.
Her sister hadn’t been.
“Why should we stay in a place where we fear breathing too loudly?” She asked her one day.
“We are safe here,” Chun replied.
“We are servants,” her sister countered. “We might both be near the Spirit Realm, but we are nothing as long as we stay here! There are places in the outside world where we could live like queens!”
Servitude to the Endlessly Raging Valley is not a permanent position. There was no contract forcing them to remain there. Countless times, her sister tried to convince her to leave, but Chun could never dare do such a thing.Angry and frustrated, her sister left without her.
For a time, Chun would receive letters from her sister, usually once every two or three months. She would brag to Chun about her many adventures in the outside world. Chun knew her sister was trying to make her regret not leaving with her, but she still looked forward to those letters. Many evenings were spent reading her sister’s tales, marveling at her accounts of the places she visited and the people she met.
Her sister died a mere two years after leaving the Endlessly Raging Valley.
There is no grand story behind it. An unfortunate encounter with the wrong cultivator. An instance of everyday cruelty. That is all it took to end her sister’s travels. That is what the world outside is like. In the Endlessly Raging Valley, Chun might have to keep her head down, but that is the only way for someone like her to continue living.
Is it worth it?
Chun nearly stumbles as she walks up the stairs, and she reminds herself to keep her mind on the task at hand. Her knuckles are white as she grips the tray in her hands, knowing that it must absolutely not be allowed to fall. She was chosen for this task by her fellow servants due to her higher level of cultivation, but what does it matter which shrub is taller? The mighty hurricane will pluck it by the roots all the same.
By the time she reaches the top of the stairs, Chun can barely stand, yet that is still far better than other servants would have fared. Most would have fainted before reaching the halfway point. That Chun’s consciousness remains intact is both her fortune and misfortune.
After all, She is there.
It has been a day since Chun last came here, yet She has not moved. She stands in the same place and in the same position, almost like a statue. She does not look in Chun’s direction. She never does. For someone like Her to acknowledge the existence of someone like Chun is unthinkable.
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It is also probably for the better.
Now that Chun has overcome the stairs, she merely needs to take ten more steps to leave the tray on the floor at the proper distance. There are no tables or chairs here. In this place, there is only colorless marble and the gates that remain closed.
Just ten more steps, Chun tells herself, but each one requires tremendous effort. She is not trying to scare Chun away with the power of her aura or anything of the sort, but that does not matter. The difference between them is that of Heaven and Earth. When an elephant walks, ants cannot help but tremble.
When the Wandering Wind exists, Chun can barely remember how to breathe.
Chun’s meager cultivation is but a paper shield against the Wandering Wind’s presence, but any shield is better than no shield. Once she places the tray on the floor, Chun nearly collapses in relief. Usually, she’d return to her room, rest, and think of how to collect all the favors her fellow servants owe her due to her sacrifice here.
However, it is different today. Today, there is one more task for her to do.
“...”
Chun opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her throat is dry. Her tongue feels like a useless lump of flesh on which she could choke at any moment. Nevertheless, Chun tries again. řà
“Ah…”
A sound. It is not much, barely audible, yet it comes from someone who should have nothing to say, and that is enough of an oddity.
The Wandering Wind turns her attention to Chun.
Chun nearly collapses.
It is too much. Her soul begs her to flee, but such is not in her power anymore. Her body will not move. Her very existence is caught in the Wandering Wind’s gaze. Her tiny mind understands that the being before her is a far more vast existence than she could ever comprehend.
“Well?” The Wandering Wind asks her. “Do you have something to say?”
Chun’s mouth remains open in a soundless gasp. Her body is frozen in fear.
The Wandering Wind sighs.
“Of course,” She says. “Servant, I order you to speak. State your cause.”
Terror banishes. Hesitation and confusion disappear. There is no need to think anymore. A Divinity has given her an order, and what is there for a lowly servant like her to do but to obey?
“I bring a message from Lady Ding,” Chun says in a dull monotone. Her eyes are blank and lifeless. “She requests to know when Her Eminence’s disciple will be done using the Room of the Four Winds.”
The Room of the Four Winds is a special isolation chamber. Not many are qualified to use it, and Lady Ding had expected that her daughter would be given free rein of it in preparation for the Crimson Cloud Tournament.
No one could have predicted the appearance of the Wandering Wind or the girl she claimed to be her disciple.
The event had been the subject of much gossip in the Endlessly Raging Valley. From the highest Elder to the lowest servant, everyone was talking about it. To say many of the stronger cultivators of the Endlessly Raging Valley were upset by the way the Wandering Wind was commandeering resources would be putting it mildly.
Lady Ding just happens to be the one whose patience ran out first.
Of course, the Wandering Wind has no need to care for such things.
“Tell Lady Ding she will be waiting for a long time,” the Wandering Wind says. A wave of her hand makes the tray of food float up to her. Her slender fingers pick out the strawberries. “You can leave now.”
As soon as the Wandering Wind dismisses her, Chun’s mind returns to her. The task she has just received is not one she is enthused by. Lady Ding’s temper is well known, and being the bearer of bad news has never made a servant well-liked.
However, what is there for a servant to do but to serve?
It is the only way Chun knows how to live.
Resigned, Chun bows her head and turns back, her spirit more at ease with every step that puts distance between her and the Wandering Wind.
“Wait.”
Chuu freezes. She cannot move.
“I have noticed the amount of strawberries keeps increasing. Who is responsible for it?” the Wandering Wind asks.
“This one is, Your Eminence,” she replies automatically. “This servant noticed you always finished the strawberries but left most of the other food untouched, so I asked the kitchen to set aside more strawberries for you.”
“I see,” the Wandering Wind says. “Very well, leave and tell Lady Ding this; a servant is ill-suited to carry the Wind’s words. Come to me, and we shall converse.’”
Chun’s eyes widen.
“You are free to go. Do remember to bring more strawberries next time.”
Chun leaves grateful but knowing her life is worth a bowl of strawberries.
She does not like it.
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