My master must have been joking when he said he sealed my powers. Well, he technically didn't say anything. He just pressed a few acupressure points on my neck and back. I try to summon a water tendril, and nothing happens. Oh, tides! He did seal my powers. I knew he could seal my air elemental, but he could also seal my water elemental power. Is there something that he can't do? Everybody's right. He is a terrifying immortal.
I stare at the colored mare in front of me. She kicks her feet, neighs, and snorts. I scan the stable to see what I can use to clean up the mess. There's nothing around me, just hay, more colored mares staring back at me, a shovel, and a pitchfork.
Then a bucket of water and brush floats in and lands next to me with a plop, and the brush drops into the bucket with a splash. I guess that's him telling me how to clean a horse. He gave me what I needed.
I brush down each horse using my elbow grease to clean off the paint. I'm sweating and wipe the sweat off my brow. This is the first time I've sweat without training. How do people do this every day?
Okay, done. Next up is supposed to be... the library. Ugh, why did I bother going there?
***
I look at the mess in the library, a place where I least expect to be. This would have been significantly easier if I had my elemental powers, but no, it got sealed. I sigh, dragging my feet as I pick up each scroll and put it aside. I lift all the toppled bookshelves and place them upright. What do I do with the broken ones?
Then a hammer and a nail float in and drop on the table with a thud. Right, he's telling me that I have to fix it.
How do I even use this? I pick up a nail, observe it, and press my finger at the tip; it's blunt. It can't do any damage, can it? And then I press further and prick my finger. Ouch! I suck on my injured finger. Okay, try not to get in the nail's way. I figure I'll test the hammer on the table first. I hold the handle. Bang! With a loud crack, the table is split into two. I stare at the wreckage. Whoops! I run my hand down my face. For Ocean's sake! Why do I always make things worse?
Then planks of wood float in and place themselves by the wall. Oh, I see. He expected that I would do some damage before getting it right. I guess this table is now my practicing bench. I place a nail on the table and hammer it. The table breaks further and the nail drops on the floor. This is not working. I hold the nail upright with its point, tip pointing at the table. I use the hammer to hit the nail, but end up hitting my thumb instead. It starts throbbing. Ow! I have a newfound respect for carpenters now. How do they do this every day?
I take a deep breath, and clench my fists, while my thumb is throbbing from the hammering, finger stinging from the prick. Calm down. Do not lose your cool. Do not make more mess. You can do this. Let's try not to hurt yourself in the meantime. I try again, holding the nail against the broken table. Maybe I should ease up a bit. I tap the hammer on the head of the nail and it slowly digs in. I let go of the nail and I tap again. Oh! So that's how you do it. With newfound confidence, I start hammering away and fixing up all the broken furniture, mainly the bookshelf and the table. And then sigh. Why do I have to sort the scrolls in categorical order? I hate reading. Is this his way of forcing me to read?
Many boring hours later, all the scrolls are sorted in categorical order. I brush my hands. I never want to see this place again. The next stop is the archery field.
***
I crack my knuckles in front of the archery field, where my drunken aim had scattered the arrows everywhere but the bullseye. This should be quick. I need to stretch anyway. I run around picking up the arrows, flipping, cartwheeling, somersaulting, wherever I can see an arrow, collecting it all, and putting it back into its place. That was a good stretch. I scan the field. It looks like I've never been here.
Now on wards to the weapons station.
***
I scratch my head, staring at the drunken destruction I'd left behind at the weapons station. This is going to be a difficult task. The only thing I can do now is pick up all the weapons. With a bit of effort, I pull out those that are wedged into the floor. What was I thinking? There are weapons etched around the surrounding buildings. I don't see any blood. Good, I didn't kill anybody. So I must have been fighting against invisible foes yesterday.
Once the weapon station is neatly stacked, I rest a finger on my chin, contemplating. There are many holes and cracks in the walls and on the floor. How am I going to patch them up?
Then seven wooden buckets fly in and land in front of me with a thud. The largest bucket is empty. The rest of the buckets are filled with their unique content: lime paste, crushed stone powder, sticky rice paste, ceramic powder, and water. One bucket has all the tools: an iron trowel, wooden paddle, straw brush, and ladle. That's great and all, but how do I use this? It looks very complicated.
Then the straw brush floats up to one crack and sweeps away dust, loose particles and debris. Then it returns to the bucket. A ladle scoops some water and pours over the crack, probably to give it moisture. I watch as a portion of the lime paste is put in the largest empty bucket. Then the crushed stone powder, sticky rice paste, and ceramic powder are also thrown in, and the ladle scoops water slowly adding it to the mix as a wooden paddle stirs the contents until the texture is thick like clay.
An iron trowel scoops the clay texture and presses it firmly into the crack. A wooden paddle tamps it in to ensure the gap is filled. The edge of the trowel levels the clay to smooth it across the surface. Then the straw brush lightly taps the surface to blend it in.
Did he seriously take a course in ancient wall repair? Some of this stuff reeks. Why would you use sticky rice paste or lime? I don't get it, but if that accomplishes the goal, then who am I to question it? Ugh. I pinch my nose as I mix everything and mimic the demonstration. I quickly patch up all the cracks and brush my hands off. There. I don't want to do this again. I'm glad this is not my job. I'll take life-threatening quests any day over this.
On wards to the wine cellar.
***
Cracking my neck in front of the wine cellar, I figure there's probably not much to do here. I can't make wine out of thin air. I don't even know what it's made out of. I pick up all the broken pottery pieces and stack them again neatly. I'll ask the Crown Prince how much I owe him.
The last stop for today should be the split cherry blossom tree.
***
I roll my shoulders by the cherry blossom tree, haphazardly split into uneven halves. Honestly, I thought this would be where I'd wake up sprawled, not on the kitchen bench. I scratch my chin. What move did I try to do? It looks like I just chopped it in half with my bare hands. I can't be that strong, could I? I try that move, jumping up with my hands tensed, just chopping it with a resounding pain. The impact caused my body to vibrate, my teeth chatter, and the tree remains the same. What the? Could it be someone else who did this?
A sapling cherry blossom tree flies in and lands in front of me. He wants me to plant it?
That liquid courage caused so much trouble. Oh better yet, I'm just not going to touch it for a while. Not until I'm a bit older. This body obviously couldn't handle it. I shake my head, tsking at myself. From now on, everything in moderation, including moderation. Let's see, how can I fix this? My eyes shift between a brand-new sapling tree and an old tree split in half. It only makes sense for me to remove the old one and plant a new one. This must be a test of my strength. I grab the split tree and heave. It doesn't move. I use my leg strength and heave. It doesn't budge.
A shovel flies in and leans against the tree. Oh, this should be handy.
I dig away, uprooting the tree. I might as well use my leg strength. I kick the tree out, and to my surprise, it does fly out. Oh no, it's going to break something else. I dash to it and kick it to the floor. Phew! That was close. I place the sapling in the hole. Pat down the soil. Brush my hands off.
Now that I've completed everything, there's only the kitchen left. I sniff the air. The chefs are cooking something delicious. So I move on to the kitchen, looking for my master and the Crown Prince. Since there are chefs in the kitchen, cooking away, I don't think I should step in and scare them again. I sniff the air, trying to distinguish the delicious aroma from the scent of the two I'm searching for. Their scents drift by the lake.
I rush to the pagoda by the lake where we were yesterday.
Long Fei and the Crown Prince are seated at the table, playing 'Go'.
Without even looking at me, I can tell that my master knows that I'm here. As he places a piece on the board, he pauses.
"Have you learned your lesson yet?"
Long Fei places his piece down. The Crown Prince stares intently at the board with his finger resting on his chin, his free hand fiddling with his piece.
I rub my arms, my head cast down, unable to look any of them in the eye.
"Yes, I won't do it again. I swear by the sea, no more drunken rampage in the Celestial Realm."
Long Fei gets up, approaches me, and swiftly presses a few of my acupressure points on my neck and spine. I feel a sense of relief like a gentle spring surging through my meridians.
"You should go freshen up. We'll be having dinner soon. Tomorrow is going to be a big day for you."