WR-2 Ink Spirits

I see. You sought your friend's family for her, and so came from shy a myriad li away to Yan. Admirable indeed.

However, Mount Hui-ch'i? And Kou-wu City? I've never heard of any cities like it in the vicinity... But this place isn't far from Mount Sky. Perhaps it's a small peak I know not the name of. The possibility is there.

Eh? Mount Sky...?

Well, this is annoying.

Sorry, could I ask which part of Yan we're in right now?

This place is at the edge of Mount P'o, its name is P'o-shan Village.

...?

(I've never heard of it, absolutely never heard of it!)

O—okay, then, what's the current year...?

The year is Ching-tso 7, currently the Beginning of Spring, with the Dusk Ridding just passed.

Huh?

(Quietly) Ching-tso?

(Quietly) Benefactor, I won't mince words: my history is quite poor, but Ching-tso... has to be centuries ago at least. I've never heard of an era by that name...

......

(Quietly) Wh... what's going on, benefactor? Could we have tumbled a thousand years back when we opened that door?

(Quietly) Did they have gardens and buildings like this a thousand years ago?

(Quietly) Of course they couldn't! Perhaps this Umbrella-Boiling Hermit blurted out pure nonsense? But I can't imagine he'd do that, noting how refined his manner is.

Heroes three, you've come to our aid. You are my honored guests. If you have any questions, ask them forthright; you needn't refrain.

Could we trouble you to tell us about the culture and customs here? To be honest, this place isn't where we thought we were going. It seems we went astray, and we're sort of at a loss.

For... for example, tell us about this village?

Ah... there is much to tell of the origins of P'o-shan Village. Story has it that seventy years ago, a great fire started on a rich merchant's property, bringing untold calamity.

The rich merchant was frightened, and planned to leave, to find a place where nature blessed treasured lands, so he could live out the rest of his days.

Subsequently, in the midst of all the ashes, the people of his village found a peculiar painting on the ground...

Painting?

Correct. The house had burned to the ground, yet that painting scroll remained unharmed, and after brushing off the ash, it was as good as new.

The merchant heard of the painting, dove deep into his pockets to buy it back once again, seeking good luck to ward against fires.

In his new residence, the more the merchant gazed into the scenery in the painting, the more he took an interest. He sent out hundreds of servants in search of the marvelous feng shui this scroll had portrayed—

—and so came here, and so this village, and this garden came to be.

Was that your ancestor?

Not so, not so. The world's affairs are never constant. Decades in the past, after the merchant's death, his few sons in their incompetence frittered away the household's wealth.

By chance, my father had some spare money from a string of opportune coincidences, and so bought the gardens and settled down here.

Afterwards, as nearby Catastrophes were infrequent and the mountains and rivers gorgeous, many talented scholars were drawn here, and over time, P'o-shan Village became as it is today.

(I mean, it sounds wonderful.)

(No issues with it yet, I think...)

So, the color of the sky...?

The what?

Uh, I mean, daytime and nighttime seem to be mixed together...

We've always worked as the sun rose, and rested as it set. What doubts might you have?

It's been two hours since the bell sounded... with the twelve-branch double-hour system, it'd be one of those. The sun's hasn't moved at all. What's causing that?

The sun? Move?

The sun and moon sit in the sky, sun in the east, moon in the west, eternally unchanging. What other position would they assume?

Hm? You all have a peculiar look on your faces. Have I said something improper?

Er, benefactors, if I could interrupt, just very quickly.

May I dare ask, will you again be telling stories here the next day?

Naturally.

As that is the case tomorrow, I presume yesterday you also took up your hand fan and gavel block?

I lay at home, with the collection of strange tales as my one and only hobby, naught but the art of storytelling to pass the time. Thus, every day, at the Hour of Shen, changing for nothing.

Err. Then with the sun and moon constant above, and 'today, the next day, and yesterday,' how should you define what one 'day' is?

You're quite the jokester, Brother No. Twelve earthly branches make up one day. Need you ask?

Erm... do the twelve branches and the twenty-four hours not track the time over one day and night?

Hmm? How mystifying. I wonder just where you all came from? The twelve branches indicate the necessary periods between the sun rising above the earth in the far east, and the moon above the mountains in the far west, don't they?

Of course, they also indicate how this road is partitioned. East to west, P'o-shan Village lies from the late-morn sixth to the late-eve twelfth.

I've heard tell of mountains beyond mountains. Could it be that beyond Mount Hung-tung and downstream of the Tung-shêng River, other places are not so?

Then... suppose P'o-shan Village alone occupies such a vast domain; if there are villages elsewhere, mightn't they be forever without daylight?

Or they'd be stuck in the day, and they'd never even sleep properly. Sucks to be them.

This... this, I am truly unclear on.

Have you never left this village before? Aren't there any other travelers here?

I never have. Very few people have ever come here, and of the youth that leave, very few ever return.

I must confess, the 'Yan' we presently know is from the library the rich merchant left behind, and nothing more.

Has a Catastrophe never struck this place before?

They're just as rare. At least apart from the ancient records, our three generations have never seen one before.

And so, we hardly leave the bounds of P'o-shan Village. And just as you see, scarcely any travelers come here, let alone any officials or Messengers or other such persons.

To say P'o-shan Village is presently cut off from the outside world would be no exaggeration at all. That said, only when you disregard the affairs of the world can you be content.

......

And the monsters?

Ah... I know not when it began. Come every Dusk Ridding, Mount Hung-tung often bears monsters that come to disturb the village, over perhaps three to five days. For so many unbroken years, it has been this way.

In these years, I've turned every record over, asked the very few strangers whenever I could, and I've never found any way to address it...

But as long as you hide somewhere the sun is, those monsters won't come near.

Versus braving the dangers and battling them 'til one side is dead, much better is finding peace and safety, hiding under the sun, passing not a night and staying vigil throughout...

Over time, it's become a usual practice of ours here.

Dear me! And I thought this place was a true peach-blossom utopia! I hadn't imagined such troubles here... Those monsters are much too frightening. To give them a wide berth is the sensible thing!

(Quietly) Benefactors, their ways are plainly much too strange...

Sir, one last question.

You know that we came here to look for someone. I have a, uh, token. Could you take a look?

This is...?

Hoh...

Craft to surpass Nature.

However... most regretfully, if I'd ever seen such an unusual item as this before, I'd certainly—

Sir, the feast is prepared.

Good, good. May I ask you all if you've found anywhere to stay in the village?

Not for the time being...

You've arrived as guests. It'd be best if you rested here for some days, and once the Dusk Ridding has passed, you hurry on your way again!

(Quietly) Benefactor, your verdict?

(Quietly) It's not like we've got anywhere to go... We may as well stay in the village for now and gather intel.

(Quietly) This place obviously doesn't match up with the 'Yan' we know. Not to mention, we still have no indication of how we got here...

Right!

In that case, we'd be best to accept.

So in the end, we still don't have a literal clue... Eh, but the tea here smells great. Is this how the green tea is in Yan?

Kroos!

Don't worry, I've got my manners.

—

I could drink this.

They've put out fruits here...

Ah, are you testing for poison, benefactors? You should've said sooner; let me come to your aid!

Hey...!

Mmph!

Mm, dear benefactor, this fruit is quite fresh! And peculiarly sweet.

I didn't mean...

Mind it not! As the proverb goes, one cannot lack the heart to protect, no?

I wasn't worried if they poisoned anything... I was just checking through... everything in our perimeter.

You're pretty fidgety right now, aren't you? No problem, we're all the same. Lost in the fog.

It's like we're checking if we're even still alive.

Checking again, huh?

You chill here. I still need to take another look outside.

How could I leave my benefactor to toil alone! I must accompany you!

Then let's split up and move. The way things are, none of us is gonna sit still.

Alright. Then shall we meet in... two hours?

Good.

......

Do you think we can trust him?

Even if it's not rare to see poor bastards in a tight spot on the wastes, coincidences like his are the last thing you can trust.

I think so too. And it's a fact that he's been deceiving us.

Gloompincers that leave their nests are highly aggressive. And when we found him, he was up in a tree looking all sad... but he was about 800 whole meters away from the car crash.

And just seeing his actions...

Even if he's got no ill will, we've still gotta be wary of each other.

I'll keep an eye on him.

*Sigh*.

(I may have been drawn into something indescribably bizarre... But I suppose that has had a silver lining...)

(Speaking of which, this truly isn't—any joking matter... If I can't find a way to return, then what do I even do...)

(Oh... but Lava and Kroos have been quite the saviors to me. I can't fault them for this... *sigh*! I'll just have to see as I go—)

Ohh, my apologies there, I'm truly sorry. I was lost in thought and clearly wasn't watching my way—

...Ah!

By your appearance, surely you are from outside, are you not? It has been so long since I saw a visitor!

I am Saga, humble servant of the Buddha, a wandering monk from Higashi! May I ask from whence thou comest?

—The finishing touch is the hardest part. Lady Hsü racked her brains, for all along she had been lacking that final touch.

Lady Hsü dared not be reckless, but ultimately could not find the idea she most took to. Her mind in turmoil, she could only take to the streets to relieve her boredom. There, she so happened to hear a butcher calling out, and in the cage by the butcher's side, there was shut a plump fowlbeast.

For a long time, Lady Hsü stared at that fowl. Perhaps it knew its death was soon to come, and stupefied, the animal watched the pedestrians pass to and fro, making surprisingly little commotion.

Watching and watching, Lady Hsü couldn't help but begin to imagine herself as that fowlbeast, and deep inside, what it might be thinking.

All who came and went were other sorts, incomprehensible, and far from the grass and riverbanks, in this wilderness of a culture not its own, it was one and alone.

Fate was long since a foregone discussion, and it could now only seek a monumental release.

On nothing more than helplessness and apathy, such indescribable feelings—Lady Hsü found herself taking a few steps closer, and the fowlbeast, as if drawn in by that gaze of wild imagination, turned to Lady Hsü.

In that cosmic instant, there was no need for fierce method, sparse colors, and no need to worry how the noble purchasing a painting felt.

Success and failure, gain and loss. In the eyes of this livestock awaiting slaughter, Lady Hsü found an answer to all of them.

She paid the money to buy the fowl, kept it in the pond in her garden, and immediately took up her brush to add the finishing touches, the movements coming like a flow, no longer hindered at all.

On the second day, Lady Hsü finished with ease the court-lady painting, and received high praise from the officials and nobles.

Carrying great strings of gold and silver on the way home, Lady Hsü had all along felt that beyond the finishing touches, some little bit else was missing, and was frustrated as though she had failed.

Only when she opened her gate, and saw that fowl treading water in her pond, did she come to a sudden realization.

She'd thought she had achieved success, and had long escaped the chopping board, scarcely imagining that she had only changed the pond she was in, and lacked for freedom once again.

The present Lady Hsü had long advanced past the full-spirited, youthful girl she once was.

Over the decades she had taken up her brush, with fame and fortune both, yet her husband had passed in his prime; now she had to gaze over the looks of others. Who would still come to give her finishing touches, to let her free back into her fields?

What returned to the Hsü manor that evening was but carriages of gold and silver riches.

It is said that afterwards, some sighted Lady Hsü at the border of Jiangqi, but regardless, ever since then, the lady painter acclaimed as 'the place where magnificence dwells' was never seen again.

Twenty whole years later, among the powers of Hsi, the City of Dusk, there circulated a painting reputed to be Lady Hsü's final work—her swansong.

Most people thought it a fake. It was incomparable with the works of Lady Hsü in her younger years, and its content was incomprehensible. A great deal of the painting was left blank, depicting only a fowlbeast, its appearance as though dead.

Many evaluators believed that among similar paintings of beasts, quite a few great painters drew the beasts of flight and field, vivid and lifelike, remarkably animate, as though they could emerge from the scroll at any time.

But this fowlbeast was abnormally stiff, lacking all life, and therefore it was regarded as a fake.

Among Lady Hsü's admirers, there was one named Kuei-yü. He was wise with business when young, and had presently come on hard times, scattering his wealth away, hanging in the balance—his most frustrated moments.

Kuei-yü saw this scroll, saw the fowlbeast's eyes, and it was if lightning had struck him. He returned home half-dreaming, unable to settle for the longest time, and after more than ten days without proper sleep or food, he made up his mind, and gathered himself once again.

......

The world's affairs are inconstant.

Perhaps only those in frustration's throes like Kuei-yü could see clearly the implications Lady Hsü had hidden in the eyes of that fowlbeast pale as ashes, the longing without end, and the meaning of that 'beastly prisoner within the painting.'

Life. Life is no more than this.

You've gathered a lot of these anecdotes and apocrypha, sir. It really is an eye-opener.

That said, it seems most are legends about Yan painters?

Indeed. The library in my study is quite abundant, and doesn't lack in handwritten folklore nor tales of the strange, but there's no doubt that a majority of it relates to the outstanding painters in history.

Of course, there are also records of minor characters which, for all sorts of reasons, have been buried in anonymity within the history of Yan.

Though ultimately they were never able to stand out in prominence, they still have graceful glimpses of this world of ours, their writers unknown, neither if they're true or false.

Come to mention it... Miss Lava, your friend's person you're searching for is a painter as well, isn't she?

If she's a recognized name, perhaps with some small fame somewhere, then I may or may not be able to find some clues.

Uh-huh...

Look well, here is the exit of the village.

Ohh! Under this time of the sky, you'd be utterly blind if you didn't carry a lantern!

Master, dare I ask, have you ventured beyond the village before?

Ho? Did not you all come from outside?

Ahahah, I... I was quite drunk at the time, and when I came to, I found myself lying down already in the guesthouse with my companions.

I understand. To the west, there sits a Mount Hung-tung. Exit from here, walk some ri along the mountain path, and you will arrive!

However, strange demons roam Mount Hung-tung all year long. I would advise that one keep a healthy distance!

B—By demons, you mean those monsters, right? Might you know the true face of those things, dear Master?

I can only guess the smallest idea. I do not dare to bear false witness. I call those things as 'Ink Spirits.'

Ink? Ah, because they all fade away as puddles of sewage? Quite the snug analogy. Such is the prowess of a Great Master!

Thou flatter'st me. 'Tis only from my childhood, as my head priest would tell ghost stories of 'sprites and spirits,' which I remember deeply.

How modest, how modest.

The local people give the name 'Dusk Ridding' to the days when Ink Spirits invade, and pass all night in vigil, hiding under the shelter of the sun. 'Tis a far cry from the Yan 'Dusk-Ridding Eve' I have heard of...

Might it be that Yan is a country of vast lands, and the customs in every place are their own?

Not at all, not at all. I've never heard of any Dusk Ridding like this at the new year, and needless to say I've never met those Ink Spirits before.

In my journies, I have only met Ink Spirits some meager times. As it is here at P'o-shan Village...

Well! Then we can count ourselves sorely unlucky... arriving here to immediately see the Ink Spirits attack the village... It's fortunate it didn't last long, or else I might've been finished right here.

I had believed thou wouldst know all by thy finger-counting divination.

How would I? Even if I had that capability, it wouldn't—

—Hold on, the Ink Spirits you're talking about. Do they usually leave Mount Hung-tung? Could lone Ink Spirits happen to stray near?

When unoccupied I may stroll about the village, and I have never seen an Ink Spirit approach, save for last time. 'Twas truly a crowd to behold.

So you mean, if you see one, that means there's a whole gaggle?

I believe it is most likely so.

Th—Then we'd better be on our ways...

Ho? What does thou mean—ah.

Miss, miss!

Whoa, what's the matter?

My dada said you're a hero who helped the village, so you've gotta be really strong!

Hmm~ Are heroes all strong people, then?

Aren't they?

Heroes are just willing to help, that's all.

Amazing... ah, look, miss, here's the guesthouse I was talking about!

It's called the Tsui... Tsui-ch'ing Lou!

Tsui', 'Ch'ing', 'Lou.' Those are some real pretty Yan words. You can read 'em?

Yeah, I can!

Sweet, let's go in and see.

Wow, the guest room has even more light than inside my house!

Not too shabby at all.

Miss, are you gonna stay here? It's great!

(Furnishings... standard table and chairs... thing that look like words too. They're all clues. Gotta note 'em down...)

Uhh... hold on a minute...

Wah! I think I just heard—

—A bell.

M—Master, could we perhaps pick up the pace?

We cannot rush, we cannot rush! I must strike the full twelve!

But—eek—didn't something just fly past the eaves?!

Still short! The last three times!

I—I'll help!

Hoh... they came twice in one day. Why so frequent?

'In one day'... you mean 'in twenty-four hours,' right?

It really is a pain that daylight and nighttime don't ever switch. If you overslept, you'd end up losing track of time forever, wouldn't you...?

Hahaha, sleeping in is no good habit...

Though I must note how unruffled you are, Miss Lava. Presumably you did not cower when those monsters first appeared to you, either?

These things happen. And you seem pretty calm yourself.

See the sun strong above our heads. Those monsters would never make their way here.

Nobody'll get hurt, right?

If you're slow to escape, I fear they're unavoidable... If you do not lose your life, then you are already very lucky.

Mr. Umbrella-Boiler... I have a suggestion.

Go ahead.

We'll help P'o-shan Village pass the Dusk Ridding safely. Those monsters aren't strong, and we'll give it all we have to ensure the villagers' safety.

I want to wait until P'o-shan Village is safe, and then I'd like you to help us leave, Mr. Umbrella-Boiler.

Leave? Here? That of course is easily done, but... you've only just arrived, Miss. Are you truly willing to endanger yourself for us?

No problem. Those monsters only look scary. They're not actually that tough.

—Then let me first thank you, on behalf of all in P'o-shan Village.

M—My benefactors!

Oho, so thou art the benefactor Lava that Nothing spoke of! Well met, well met. I am Saga, humble servant of the Buddha, from Higashi—

Now now now, Master, Master, the self-introduction can wait! Those Ink Spirits have plunged straight into the village!

...'Mo'... fiend...? 'Liang'... two?

'Tis the name I chose for those monsters.

'Ink Spirit'... 'Mo-liang', a liang of the ch'ih, mei, wang and liang monsters. Very good. We finally have a unified way to address them.

Those Ink... Ink Spirits aren't much of a threat. You don't need to be so nervous.

Oh! Quite imposing! I approve!

Benefactor, I feel this time might be somewhat different...

What's different?

They're, well, er, a bit of a... horde?