The next morning...
Lạc Trần was set to depart.
He cast a glance at the towering Buddha statue, silently musing:
"Buddha, could you open your eyes and see what's happening beneath your feet?"
No answer came.
Lạc Trần didn't lash out like he did at the bi-monthly market.
The people of the village of Sickos were packing their belongings, preparing to leave this shadowed place - hidden in plain sight beneath the glow of the sacred.
Then, a shrill voice echoed across the square:
"You people better give me an answer! If not, don't think you'll be walking out of here alive, no matter the cost!"
The villagers of The Ranch stepped aside, parting to make way for a woman approaching the palanquin. She looked to be in her forties, her skin bloated in places, her hair patchy and filthy, much of it already fallen out. Her hunched back was grotesquely swollen, and her left hand clutched a cane as she limped forward. In her right hand, she dragged along a girl.
The girl was Lam Tường Vi.
The village chief frowned.
"Hoa, how dare you disturb our guests from the village of Sickos? Do you want to disgrace yourself even further? Stand down at once!"
"Village Chief! I demand justice!" the hunchbacked woman, Lam Vân Hoa, wailed as she threw herself to the ground.
"This girl is a two-legged cattle I spent fourteen hard years raising, and now these outsiders have defiled her. Tell me - how can I sell her at a good price now that she's no longer pure? Look at her - fair-skinned and sweet-faced! If not for them, I'd have secured a better life for myself!"
The crippled man let out a dry chuckle. "So, what do you want?"
"Compensation! You people owe me!"
The silent maiden calmly lifted her embroidery needle, and on the cloth she stitched a simple line:
"Sick boy, how do you want to handle this?"
Lạc Trần looked at the grotesque figure writhing on the ground. In his mind, she was overlaid with another image: the heroic general Lam Vân Hoa, peerless on horseback.
The contrast was irreconcilable.
Never... never in his wildest dreams... could he have imagined...
That the warrior who once stormed the battle formations of Aparagodānī's various sects, spear in hand and banner flying, was this decrepit, hunched hag.
Or that the woman who, even surrounded and starving, refused to yield, would now grovel in the dirt like this.
All of his emotions condensed into a single, heavy sigh.
He gave Lam Vân Hoa a long, searching look, then said:
"Cripple, help me buy the girl."
"Butcher, we've got a dose of the madman's tonic in our packs. That'll do for compensation."
The cripple grinned, raising a brow.
"So the sick kid finally realizes to learn from me is learning from the best, huh? Still, she's a bit young. You'll have to raise her for a few years. How about a small discount?"
The butcher rummaged through their belongings and pulled out a tightly folded herbal pouch, wrapped in lotus leaf and tied with reed twine. He tossed it at Lam Vân Hoa.
"Here. Take it."
Lạc Trần added, "Boil it down from three bowls of water to one. Divide it into three doses."
The silent maiden stitched again:
"Village Chief, I'd like to trade two coats for a sun-chaser and gift it to the old woman. Let that be the price for the girl."
The chief replied, "That's easy to arrange. But… may I ask why?"
"I don't like being coerced. She's not worthy of wearing clothes I made. Understand?"
"Understood. Understood! Someone, fetch the fattest horse from the stable and deliver it to Mrs. Lam here at once!"
And so…
Lam Tường Vi was traded to the villagers of Sickos - for a dose of tonic, a new iron walking stick, a sun-chaser, and a scrap of cloth from the laundry basket.
Lạc Trần lifted the girl onto the palanquin. As they were about to leave, the butcher spat loudly at Lam Vân Hoa.
Lam Tường Vi lunged forward to cry out, but Lạc Trần covered her mouth, silencing her. She could only sob, head bowed, offering three kowtows toward The Ranch from inside the palanquin.
The ox-legged palanquin rolled forward, leaving The Ranch behind.
---the separator line set several alarms on its clock---
They had traveled half for an hour when the deaf man suddenly laughed aloud.
"Sick kid did well this time!"
The silent maiden nodded, her embroidery needle quickly tracing words behind her:
"Next time we pass through The Ranch, someone new might be in charge."
Lạc Trần scratched his head. "Was my acting that bad? Did you all see through it?"
"No need to overthink it," said the deaf man. "Relax. We only figured it out thanks to the cripple."
The butcher chuckled, thumping his chest.
"Our village's gained a new young'un!"
The cripple tilted his chin up.
"Now you see my judgment skill is as high as the Walled Mountain itself?"
"Who but a pervert would be able to tell at a glance whether a girl's a virgin?" the deaf man sneered.
"Not me, that's for sure," the butcher said with a shrug.
"That alone was enough for you all to guess?"
"Isn't it obvious?" the deaf man smirked. "We're not idiots."
Lạc Trần looked at the four of them with wonder.
Just how terrifying were their powers of deduction?
He briefly suspected each of them might have the heart of Saint.
The silent maiden giggled, eyes crescented.
The butcher waved his hands.
"Enough teasing the sick kid. Truth is, all four of us just thought she was trying to extort us. But once you handed her the madman's tonic, everything clicked."
"Looks like losing her daughter had taught the general patience - the kind that coils like a cobra, silent and still, waiting to strike," the cripple muttered.
If anyone felt genuine sorrow for Lam Vân Hoa, it was probably him.
The silent maiden stitched again:
"Now that the girl's with us, Lam Vân Hoa has no ties left. Soon, the warrior of the sacred kingdom might become a champion of the dry sea."
Lạc Trần nodded.
Lam Vân Hoa hadn't sold her daughter - she'd entrusted her to the village of Sickos.
And he had helped make that happen.
A dose of tonic brewed by a mad doctor. To Lạc Trần, it could only mildly restore his strength. But in the hands of someone like Lam Vân Hoa, whose inner furnace and meridians were intact, it would have terrifying effects.
In truth, he'd made a gamble.
A gamble on the sacred bond of motherhood.
After all, Lạc Trần - an orphan - had never tasted that kind of love himself.
Lam Tường Vi cried herself to sleep, clutching a ragged cloth doll tied with frayed rope. The fabric had turned a grimy brown and reeked faintly of mold, but she wouldn't let it go.
Lạc Trần read the name stitched across its belly:
Lam Đỗ Quyên.
Likely the name of her late sister.
Leaning back, he let his body rest. With the Everchanging Ember mending his heart, the hole wouldn't pose too much trouble - so long as he didn't exert himself.
Gazing out the palanquin window, he asked:
"So… where are we headed next?"
"Gemstone River Village," said the cripple, beaming.
---the separator line snooze past several alarms---
Gemstone River Village sat beside Star Fell Lake.
A small stream called Clear Spring ran through the village, dividing it into northern and southern halves before spilling into the lake.
In the south stood the statue of a black fish, a single white spot on its forehead - known as the Yin Fish. This side of the village was inhabited almost entirely by women.
To the north rose a white fish statue with a black dot on its brow - called the Yang Fish. Here lived the men.
The villagers believed these twin statues of Yin and Yang Fish shielded the village from the creeping darkness of the dry sea. And so, a strict custom was followed:
On even days, women could visit the northern half.
On odd days, men could step into the southern side.
Anyone who broke this rule would risk invoking the wrath of the fish guardians - and if they ceased to ward off the dark, the entire village would suffer.
It was the fourth of the month.
To simplify matters, the people of Sickos were hosted in the northern half.
There were no fish in Clear Spring, likely due to the existence of Fish Wives from Star Fell Lake, but it was home to a peculiar clam known as the demon-faced clam.
Its black, gnarled shell cracked open like a grinning fiend when it fed. The clam's meat was poisonous and inedible, but the pearls it produced were rare and nourishing - one pearl could sustain a traveler for days. The villagers made their living harvesting and selling these pearls to those journeying across the dry sea.
They also raised livestock - goats, cattle, chickens, ducks - and farmed sweet potatoes and maize.
The village chief of Gemstone River was an oddity.
His body seemed split in two - left side male, right side female. His voice echoed as if two people were speaking in unison, and his clothing reflected both genders. The villagers claimed their village chiefs hadn't always been this way, but had gradually transformed after receiving blessings from both Yin Fish and Yang Fish upon taking the mantle of village chief.
Thus, a legend spread:
That Yin Fish and Yang Fish were once a single being, split apart by the formation of the dry sea - or perhaps by fate alone.
Whatever the cause, that night, the party from the village of Sickos made camp in Gemstone River Village.