Legend of the Red Sun Village

by Mark Swaine

  Grabbing her ankle and twisting it around, he throws her into a twisting fall to land on her back before aiming the baton at her face. Presuming Laoshi will yield, in a wind mill of whipping legs she takes Yu-Huang's legs from beneath him. Snatching a single baton from his grip, Laoshi lays on Yu-Huang with a knee pressed firmly on his chest with the batons in a crossed position over his neck. Shuang smiles at the Emperor, then invites him to stand with an outstretched hand. Yu-Huang smiles at Laoshi as she brings him to his feet and they bow to the clapping and excited children, and then to each other.

  “What have we learned this day children?” asks Laoshi, speaking over the loud applause.

  “Be mindful of our surroundings,” reply the children.

  Laoshi dismisses the children for playtime and invites Yu-Huang to a table where they share a pot of tea.

  “What did you learn today Master Yu-Huang?” asks Laoshi, sipping quaintly on her tea.

  “That after all this time mortals still never fail to surprise me,” replies Yu-Huang, enjoying Laoshi’s confident aura.

  “What of you, what will you take away from today's lesson?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “Never overestimate your opponent, no matter how powerful your adversary may appear,” says Shuang Jinfei, in jest.

  Laoshi knows that Yu-Huang could very well have destroyed her with just his index finger, if he wished it. But as far Shuang Jinfei is concerned, she had reigned victorious in the friendly and fair contest. She had fought him as if he were a mortal equal being, for this, he immediately respects. Laoshi’s idiom regarding potential foes makes him feel confident about defeating the Darkness, an opponent he knows nothing about. Thanks to Laoshi’s reasoning, Yu-Huang is able to see the Darkness is an adversary that could fall beneath a Tonfu. Yu-Huang knows it will take more than a set of Tonfu batons to defeat the Darkness, but her analogy was sound. As the two sit peacefully enjoying idle chat, Yu-Huang is distracted by the children's sound of high-pitched laughter. As he smiles at their innocent wonder, his smile fades as he watches their shadows react differently to their bodies. With his teacup poised before his face, his jaw tightens as he listens to their screams, and he winces as he watches their short shadows being cut apart by invisible blades.

  “They are amazing, are they not? Fearless, innocent, honest. I love being here, spending time with them,” says Shuang Jinfei affectionately.

  “Your students are most fortunate to have a tutor who is so devoted to their wellbeing and education,” says Yu-Huang, respectfully.

  “What did you see Master Yu-Huang,” sensing the formality behind his reply, “you did have a vision did you not?” says Shuang, curiously,

  “I did,” replies Yu-Huang with a dismissive smile, “how did you know?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “My Grandmother. You have that same look whenever she sees something not of this world, or bears witness to fragments of events that have yet to pass,” says Shuang Jinfei, caringly.

  “Do you wish to reveal the nature of your vision?” asks Shuang Jinfei.

  “You don't want to know,” replies Yu-Huang, glibly.

  “My Grandmother told me you are doing everything within your power to understand the nature of this evil force,” says Shuang Jinfei.

  “I wish that were so,” thinks Yu-Huang, “what else did your wise Grandmother tell you?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “My Grandmother is very old, I choose not to heed every vision she tells me,” replies Shuang.

  “But how do you know which visions to heed and which to disregard?” asks Yu-Shuang.

  “Two sunrises ago, she told me a man of great importance would pay a visit to the school, and here you are,” smiles Shuang bashfully.

  “What of those you disregard?” asks Shuang frankly.

  “Ever since I was a child she has told me of her dreams...” says Shuang reluctantly and embarrassed.

  “Continue,” smiles Yu-Huang.

  “She sees me becoming a great deity of some kind, ruling an Empire of my own. She even claims I possess a steed, a dragon actually,” says Shuang smiling coyly.

  “So you wish to claim my throne. I must express my gratitude to your Grandmother for the warning,” replies Yu-Huang, light-heartedly.

  “I know, I know. I sound not of sane mind,” says Shuang ridiculing herself, “I love my Grandmother,, but I think her hopes are raised much too high to believe I might rule my own Empire one day in some far off realm,” says Shuang.

  “Why? I believe you would make an amazing Empress and an even greater deity, more than worthy of gracing the strong back of a dragon,” states Yu-Huang,

  “My gratitude,” says Shuang Jinfei, staring deep into the Emperor’s eyes.

  “What realm did your Grandmother speak of?” asks Yu-Huang out of sudden interest.

  “I know not, she spoke of a place neither damned nor blessed,” says Shuang, “I sense the severity of your deep thoughts Master Yu-Huang. Should the people of the Huanghua territories fear the coming seasons?” asks Shuang,

  “Yes,” replies the Emperor hesitantly.

  Shuang Jinfei heeds the Emperor's advice and stares straight into his eyes before addressing her concerns.

  “Disturbing tales have passed through the village of late, and they reach the ears of the children, giving them nightmares. I tell them the stories are not true, for if I do not understand these horrors myself, how can I possibly expect them to,” says Shuang Jinfei.

  “What is it you do not understand?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “How it is possible that a lifeless body is able to return to life upon its death. How do you explain that to a child?” says Shuang Jinfei.

  “Perhaps it is best that you do not,” says Yu-Huang awkwardly.

  “Then how will I prepare them for the horrors that may come, and how am I to protect them from an attack if I know not my enemies’ weaknesses?” replies Shuang Jinfei.

  “The undead mortals that rise to live, crave living human meat,” says Yu-Huang gravely.

  “So the stories are true,” says Shuang.

  “Yes, the Samurai faced these undead beings in their homeland. Their leader Kamui Li, he claims severing the head from the body is the only way to end their unnatural lives,” says Yu-Huang.

  “I will pass word to the other schools. I will be recommending the practice of ranged attacks and have them begin training with edged steel,” says Shuang Jinfei.

  “Master Shuang Jinfei, gratitude for your wisdom, strength, counsel and hospitality. May I be of further service before I take my leave?” says Yu-Huang, gratefully.

  “Yes you can. Four seasons ago something terrible happened in this town, and a child has gone missing. I have been looking for her all over the city,” says Shuang, desperately.

  “What name does she go by?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “She will only answer to the name Xunsu. Please put word out to your soldiers, bring her back,” pleads Shuang Jinfei.

  “I will see to it,” affirms Yu-Huang.

  Laoshi and Yu-Huang stand and bow in respect and gratitude and she calls the children into a blind drawn classroom lined with pillows and refreshments. Yu-Huang bids farewell to Laoshi and the children, standing by the door to watch them settle down in front of their Laoshi. As Shuang prepares to tell moral tales and philosophies, their tiny, mentally exhausted heads fall and rest against one another's shoulders.

  “Is everybody ready, does everybody have drinks?” asks Laoshi, softly and smiling.

  The heavy-eyed children hold up their drinks to Laoshi with tired smiles and await with curiosity which story their beloved tutor is going to tell them today.

  “Today, I am going to tell you a story about a powerful, kind, and wise Emperor. Can anybody tell me of whom I speak?” asks Laoshi, with her voice practically sending them into a state of slumber.

  “Emperor Yu-Huang,” say the children in quiet, tired unison.

  Yu-Huang smiles at Shuang Jinfei and his little group of fans listening intently, then leaves the s
chool grounds. The Emperor is glad he visited the school this day. It fills his heart with light to see firsthand just how much promise lies in store for the next generation. As the blue dark of night approaches, from the hilltop, Yu-Huang observes every tutor's uplifting affection for each child. The tutors kiss each child on the head as they depart from the low and wide thatched huts. The huts, illuminated by the swinging of glowing lanterns, casts light upon the shallow steps leading to the partially buried homesteads scattered within the grassy paths of the petal patterned hillside. The tutors wave goodbye for the day as the infants leave swinging joined hands and singing joyous songs whilst skipping happily into their parent's warm embrace at the front doors of their homes.

  The tutor's love for each is unflinching, and they smile hopefully knowing the fate of the future resides in the moral standards of their teachings. Yu-Huang suddenly begins to feel faint and weak and so leaves in search for somewhere to rest for the night. Seeing double and on the verge collapsing, Yu-Huang staggers beside a cart trail and sits a moment. Irked at his moment of vulnerability, he forces himself back onto his feet and cuts across a field in the direction of a series of tall, shacks. Yu-Huang finds himself in the mill district. Even though there is nothing odd or significant about the quiet row of buildings, he finds himself drawn to its location nevertheless. Yu-Huang opens the loose wooden door and it doesn't quite shut regardless of his few attempts. The rows of busy Weavers working overtime fail to acknowledge the unannounced visitor, nor does he wish to break their focus. Their work is immense and immaculate, wicker sandals and various hides of boot fill the stacks of shelves. Kimonos, sandals and fabric jade soldier and brotherhood uniforms line curbed bamboo rails in neat consecutive rows, almost reaching the peak of the rooftop. The Weavers, net and loop with swift and cautious needle pinched fingers, guaranteeing accuracy in each eagled eyed aim whilst bringing perfection and eloquence to their craft in every fluid movement.

  The stool-seated women keep their eyes deadlocked on their pins, as if the only existence in time and space is the task at hand that lay before them. A stone faced supervisor saunters amongst the lanes of work stations, closely inspecting the flawless range of outfits her sharp and unforgiving eyes. Yu-Huang keeps to the perimeter of the room whilst admiring the skill in their needle whirling fingers. Suddenly the strangest thing happens, or what strikes Yu-Huang as relevant to something elusive in his mind. A sudden gust of mid-Autumn wind suddenly blows and slams the door to and fro, causing a startled worker to prick her finger. As the strong wind rocks tables and chairs and blows loose pieces of fabric into the air, the Weaver girl winces at her tiny wound. Slightly perturbed, she sucks her finger to ease the discomfort and stem the bleeding. Accustomed to the occupational hazard, the Weaver girl then continues on with her work as if the accident had never occurred. Yu-Huang shudders as the hairs on his neck stand on end, and he looks around as he senses a familiar presence. There is also something familiar about the Weaver girl too, he senses he knows her, but for his life he cannot recall ever laying eyes on her. Eventually he dismisses the chilly sensation and continues to watch the familiar seamstress, but is then distracted by something else. A black cat quietly sneaks in through the open door and creeps underneath the table of the Weaver girl. Rubbing the side of its sleek body against the Weaver girl's chair leg, the worker is none the wiser.

  The feline suddenly appears startled as if to have seen a ghost and hisses wildly causing the woman to once again prick her finger on the blood hungry needle. A little more anxious this time around, she curses under her breath and moves the cat away with her foot, then once again then sets about her work. Yu-Huang attempts to decipher the events unfolding before him, yet is unable to process them due to their abstract triviality; such a series of unimportant events would not usually make such an impact on the Emperor's intellectual mind. Why these non-life altering events burrow into his mind and play with his resolve, he knows not. Yu-Huang's lack of tenacity begins to trouble his mind; with a strained expression, his attempts to break down the trivial events are futile. But the random set of events is far from trivial, and even further from chance.

  Little does Yu-Huang know, this mystery will contribute to one of the most important answers he will give in the history of not only young Earth's survival, but that of the fragile and ever complex mortal. The Weaver girl looks at Yu-Huang as she nurses her bleeding finger and he takes a step forward as he appears concerned for the young girl.

  “Are you well?” asks Yu-Huang politely.

  The Weaver girl stares at Yu-Huang lovingly and proudly, yet fails to answer. Yu-Huang smiles kindly as the girl continues staring at him, and eventually he looks around to ensure she isn't looking at something beyond him. Yu-Huang disregards her fixed gaze and concentrates on healing the pin prick, but much to his desperation, her minor wound fails to heal. In a panic at his loss of power, Yu-Huang leaves the workshop in a hurry and opens the rattling door to a burst of sunlight. The confused Emperor suddenly sits up and wakes to the sun shining upon his face and a goat bleating beside him. He looks around in confusion and finds himself in an upturned cart filled with hay.

  “Rough night?” asks a peasant.

  “What? I don't remember, where am I, how did I get here?” asks Yu-Huang in a daze.

  “Easy, slow down,” chuckles the bent-backed old man. “I found you unconscious by the side of the trail,” he adds.

  “Please accept my gratitude kind one, where, where am I?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “Outside ‘Jiā de Sìjì’ (Home of the Four Seasons) Forest,” replies the old man.

  Yu-Huang climbs out of the upturned cart and brushes himself off. He pays gratitude to the old man and gives him twenty cowrie shells for his aid before bidding him farewell. Desiring to clear his head, he decides to take a wander through the ‘Jiā de Sìjì’ (Home of the Four Seasons) Forest, where he can be alone to think. The long stretch of woods is too dense a place to populate and fraught with natural dangers, many will not even venture a day beyond the old groaning and rocking trees. The forest is a place where the young ones dare not go, not without a trail to guide them back to the safe populace of civilisation. Reckless teens buckling under peer pressure and dangerous dares often find themselves advancing further and further into the 'haunted woodlands' only to fall victim to some cruel, fear inducing prank. Pranks usually involving a white sheet over a lantern accompanied by spooky wailing noises, typically resulting in a pack of screams and sprinting legs. The woods are near silent today, and only the cooing of the wood pigeons and the sound of Yu-Huang's steps breaks the silence as he treads on the crunchy brown and golden leaves.

  During his afternoon stroll, Yu-Huang hears a faint sound, as he seeks out the source, a persistent and loud rough grinding grows ever louder. He recognises the sound of steel teeth upon timber; a sound that gnaws through the silence leading him to a long dilapidated constructed log cabin. Yu-Huang looks past the tree line at a toned young boy sweating maniacally as he attempts to shape a shaved tree trunk in an open work shed. The young boy tosses a blunt plane to one side and grabs an axe before aimlessly and carelessly chopping away. The boy throws down his blunt axe and begins hacking his way through the large piece of cylindrical wood as if it were his most despised enemy. The kid stops and wipes his face whilst nodding angrily and spitefully at the tree, as if it was deliberately attempting to oppose him. The boy's expression suddenly turns to one of determination as he frantically takes the plane with both hands. His unsteady blistered hands do their best to position the wobbling and shaking plane, and he thrusts it with a last ditch effort of force. The plane comes apart in his hands and he slices the palm of his hand on the blunt razor as the handle slips from his grasp. The kid yells in pain and frustration through his clenched teeth, then he begins laughing hysterically. Giving up on his work in a fit of fury, he begins throwing tools and off cuts of wood in all directions. During his tantrum he underestimates the density of a nearby block of wood and swings his w
icker sandaled foot toward it. Mouth agape as if to scream something important, his scream fails to follow as he reaches for his toes. Gripping his raised foot with both hands, he loses his balance and knocks his head against an iron, tool covered table. A few hours later, the boy’s eyelids open and shut to reveal the blur of the cabin roof rafters. Eventually, the youngster regains his vision and sees a man not much older than he sitting on a stool against the cabin wall. Noticing the kid's awareness of his presence, Yu-Huang approaches him and extends his grip to aid him to his feet. Yu-Huang guides the groggy boy to a chair and gently sets him down before passing the kid a filled waterskin.