There was once a night when even the Dragonbend Academy, usually ablaze with light, was swallowed by utter dar…
There was once a night when even the Dragonbend Academy, usually ablaze with light, was swallowed by utter darkness.
That day, the wind and rain raged, snuffing out the lanterns under the eaves one by one. With winter nearing, dusk fell early; the mountain nights were naturally ink-black, and should the Academy go dark, any wayfarer would be left with nothing but a trembling heart. After some counsel, the disciples resolved to take turns guarding a single flame. Both for their Master, who had been gone for days, and for any weary traveler who might, or might not, be out there in the dark. As for the order of the watch, for those so accustomed to bickering, there was only one way to settle it: they drew lots.
The bamboo tube rattled and clattered; amidst the storm, the sound seemed like a wondrous melody.
The first watch: Liu Sinong arrived. His hand was steady as he refilled the oil. A thin stream poured straight into the lamp's heart, and soon a halo of light bloomed. The rain fell like a cascading curtain. He watched it for a time, then drew a small bundle of coarse cloth from his breast. This object, kept pressed against his heart for years, was not something he showed lightly. It was earth from the graves of his wife and child. Yet now, amidst the raging storm, he cradled it firmly in both hands. He remembered how Miaowa had loved to watch the rain. In this solitary moment, he let himself pretend they were still here: the family, together again, listening to the rain.
The second watch: Luo Chengwu arrived. The rain had eased somewhat. Before his days at the Academy, he would have been awake now, lost in the clinking of cups and the chaotic charm of pipes and strings. His friends out there treated him well, speaking only the words he wished to hear. Not like here, where everyone has a temper, especially that Qin Yuan. A single word out of place, and it's a thousand too many... Strange. Why think of him now? Luo Chengwu refilled the oil and leaned by the window. To the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain, he actually caught the faint melody of strings. These days at the Academy, it seemed, were no worse than his life before.
The third watch: the tempest reached its height. A pair of callous, scarred hands, knuckles distinct, steadied the lamp as it thrashed in the gale. Liu Xiaomei arrived; she was well pleased with these hands of hers. In her days as a bandit, she'd used these palms to deliver countless slaps just to survive. She knew her measure, of course: no mercy for the wicked, but for the good, a mere feint of a raised hand would do. Since joining the Academy, she applied that same decisive vigor to the carving of stone tablets. The third watch is the hour when demons and monsters are said to roam. But with Liu Xiaomei on guard, what evil would dare draw near?
The fourth watch: the rain slackened, yet a bone-chilling frost set in. Qin Yuan arrived. Shrouded in a thin quilt, he added oil with such care as if a single wasted drop were a transgression. The flame grew full again, casting a small circle of amber light. Only then did he draw a tattered book from his robe, bowing his head to read by the glow. Let it be cold. Since his family's decline, he had known straits far more desperate than this. To find refuge in the Dragonbend Academy was the greatest blessing of his life. Hunching his shoulders, Qin Yuan drew a fraction closer to the light.
The fifth watch: Tang Wenyao arrived. The deepest, most grueling watch of the night naturally fell to the Senior Brother. Thus, a little harmless meddling with the lots was surely no great sin. As the Senior Brother, though, he always felt he had come to this place too late. He often lamented, wishing he could have arrived years sooner. The rain outside seemed to hear his heart; it suddenly turned to a soft murmur, like a quiet consolation. You are not late at all. The days ahead are long indeed...
As the east paled with dawn, the wind and rain retreated.
A traveler walked the mountain path, yawning, his fishing rod still dripping wet.
He looked up at the Academy nearby. A lone, warm light still flickered there, so small, yet so steady.
The world was stirring to life.
He felt then that all the sunrises and grand wonders of the world he had ever witnessed were eclipsed by this single spark of light.
Truly beautiful.