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When Sizhui saw those boys the day he arrived in town, his first instinct was to cringe.
A group of teens that looked to be near his age was chasing each other on a grassy field, laughing and screaming. Their sandaled feet kicked up water on the parts that were flooded from the recent rain. Their sweaty faces glistened in the sun.
They didn’t seem to care that the muddied water was soiling their clothes, or how much noise they were making.
It was a sight Sizhui would never see in Cloud Recesses. If this happened back at home, it would probably turn the grandmaster’s hair white.
But there was something about it, the wildness and the unbridled exuberance, that captivated Sizhui. And for a brief moment, Sizhui wondered what it would be like to be one of those boys and run so freely with abandon.
It was against everything he was taught growing up. Self-restraint was at the core of Gusu Lan Sect’s values, and the ribbon on his forehead a constant reminder of that.
“Keep up, Sizhui,” Hanguang-jun said sternly from up ahead.
Sizhui realized his footstep had slowed. He tore his eyes away from the boys and quickened his pace to return to his master’s side. “Sorry, Hanguang-jun.”
But that image stayed with him.
He and Hanguang-jun had come to the town to take care of some low-level ghosts disturbing the locals. Since the tasks were relatively simple, Hanguang-jun thought it would be a good opportunity for some one-on-one field training.
They were done by the afternoon on the third day. As usual, Hanguang-jun stayed behind to play Inquiry, which meant Sizhui had the rest of the time to himself before leaving for home the next morning.
Sizhui wandered around town aimlessly, wishing Jingyi was there with him. Before he knew it, his footsteps took him back to the field where he saw the boys.
It was empty now. The blades of grass swayed with the wind. Sizhui watched wistfully as a few orange leaves danced and tumbled, tracing strange patterns across the field.
Feeling slightly silly, he was just about to turn to go when he heard a voice.
“Hey! You’re that cultivator apprentice, aren’t you?” A boy walked up to him. “I saw you yesterday. The thing you did with the qin and the pieces of paper, that was pretty cool. We don’t often see cultivators. I’m a big fan.”
“Thank you.” Sizhui bowed. “Lan Sizhui, at your service.”
The boy snickered. “No need to be so formal around here. You can call me A-Ting. What are you doing here just staring at the field?”
Sizhui colored slightly. “I saw some people playing here the other day, and it looked interesting, so I was just coming to see if they’re playing again today.”
“You mean the Sunshot Campaign game?”
Sizhui stared blankly at him.
A-Ting explained, “The one where if you're on the Alliance team, you have to capture the Wen team’s sun and bring it back without being tagged?”
“That sounds plausible.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Well, we’re playing again in a little bit and you should totally join! Imagine having a real cultivator in the game!”
Sizhui fidgeted uncomfortably. “Oh, uh...I’m not supposed to...”
“Why not? You injured?”
Sizhui didn’t quite know how to explain.
In the end, he simply said, “It’s against the rules. Running is forbidden in Cloud Recesses, where I come from.” Along with four thousand other things. Playing this game alone would break about five rules that he could think of.
Sizhui had never deliberately broken a rule. And ever since he earned his position as Hanguang-jun’s apprentice, he had only been extra careful in not stepping out of line.
It wasn’t easy getting to where he was, and he didn’t want anyone to say that he didn’t belong there.
“Wait, running is forbidden?” A-Ting shot Sizhui a horrified look, which quickly changed into pity. “That’s sad. I’m sorry.”
Sizhui was taken aback by that. Was it sad? He’d never thought of it that way before. He had rather a lot of privilege, especially as Hanguang-jun's apprentice.
The image of the boys appeared again in his mind. It whispered to him of a freedom he had never allowed himself to feel.
Maybe.
“Well, you’re not in Cloud Recesses right now,” the boy quipped.
That was technically true, but there was no doubt in Sizhui’s mind that this would be frowned upon outside of Cloud Recesses as well. But something in him had stirred and refused to be silenced.
Sizhui hesitated.
He recalled a conversation he had with Jingyi.
“Sizhui, you cannot be perfect all the time, you know?”
Sizhui had laughed mirthlessly then. “I’m nowhere near perfect. Certainly not for Hanguang-jun. Did you not see the look he gave me today when I lost focus and my block collapsed?”
“You’re holding yourself to an impossible standard. I know you want to please him and all, but you really need to let loose a little. You should try it. Don’t you ever want to just let go and have fun?”
Of course he would. But his friend didn’t understand. Jingyi could afford that; Sizhui couldn’t.
But if he were to ever try it, maybe this was his chance. Away from the masters. Away from Cloud Recesses. Away from all the duties and traditions that came with belonging to this ancient and noble sect.
“Come on, just for one afternoon. What can it hurt? It’s clear you want to,” A-Ting cajoled, looking at him expectantly. “And who’s gonna know? I won’t tell if you don’t.”
What can it hurt, indeed?
“Alright,” Sizhui finally surrendered.
A-Ting broke into a brilliant smile, positively giddy. “Great! But you probably don’t wanna play in those.” He looked up and down, eyes landing on the elaborate embroidery on Sizhui’s fine robes. “You can borrow some of my clothes."
“Would that really be ok?” Sizhui liked the idea of keeping his uniform unmarred. He also liked the idea of not being recognized.
“Why not? We’re about the same size! And actually, you know what, you can just keep them. They’re really old anyways. A-Niang just bought me new ones. Come, I live just over there.”
Sizhui felt strange walking about without his forehead ribbon and resisted the urge to repeatedly touch his forehead.
Without his Gusu Lan Sect uniform, no one on the street paid Sizhui any attention. For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t feel the pressure to uphold the image of the model disciple.
The one that was always well-mannered and immaculately presentable. The one befitted to walk next to Hanguang-jun.
A great weight that he didn’t realize he was carrying began to fall from his shoulders.
During the game, Sizhui reveled in the feeling of the soft earth beneath his boots, the splash of the cool water on his skin, the rush of the wind on his face. As he chased after the sun, dodging the grasps of the opposing team, he found himself grinning for no good reason, save that he was deliriously happy.
A joyous cry burst out from deep within his soul, joining the whoops and shouts of the other boys. With that, Sizhui shrugged loose of the last of the four thousand rules that normally bound him and lost himself completely.
So this was what he was missing.
Drunk on the flush of freedom, when one of the boys suggested sneaking into the state-owned farm after the game, Sizhui followed. When they handed him the newly matured water chestnuts that they picked, Sizhui took them.
The water chestnuts were both crispy and tender, and juice that was slightly sweet filled his mouth. He had never had water chestnuts this fresh. They tasted like nectar to his thirst. Soon, piles of shells littered among them.
“You rascals!” Somewhere, an angry voice yelled. Sizhui came crashing out of the dream.
“Run!” The other boys took off, sprinting back the way they came. Panicked, Sizhui tailed them blindly.
A red-faced man wearing constable livery charged after them, waving a stick. “Hey, you! You stop right there!”
Heart in his throat, Sizhui ran as if his life was on the line. His feet slipped on the mud. His wet trousers dragged heavily on him.
He stole a look behind him. The constable was gaining on him alarmingly.
Oh god, why is he so fast? If Hanguang-jun finds out about this... Sizhui wrenched himself away from that dreadful thought and willed his limbs to go faster.
Already tired from the game and not as familiar with the local territory, Sizhui began to lag behind. When they ran onto a busy street, Sizhui lost sight of the other boys altogether.
“Stop that boy!” The constable shouted at the gaping crowds.
A man stepped in his way. Sizhui twisted his body, narrowly avoiding collision, but then crashed into a woman holding a basket. She fell, and the basket went flying. Apples rolled down the street.
“Hey!” She yelled.
“I’m sorry!” Sizhui cried, mortified.
A life-long instilled sense of honor made him unable to just leave her there. He helped her up and hesitated about whether to pick up those apples.
But in that moment of hesitation, the constable caught up and launched himself at Sizhui.
Sizhui hit the ground hard. His left hand scraped painfully on the rough stone pavement, drawing blood.
He grunted and struggled to flip them over, but the man was much larger than him, and Sizhui was not in a position with leverage.
“Got you! You bastard!” Keeping a knee on Sizhui’s back, the man pulled Sizhui’s arms behind him and pinned them, immobilizing him.
Sizhui let out a cry of pain. No one had ever treated him this roughly before.
“Trespassing and stealing, on government property! And knocking over a good woman like that. Have you no shame?”
“I’m sorry,” Sizhui gasped.
The man yanked Sizhui up to face him, keeping a vice-like grip on his arm. “Your friends got away; count them lucky. But at least I have you. Let’s go see the mayor!”
“Wait, surely there’s no need—”
“What? You think you can break the law and get away with it? Now shut up and come along!”
The guards outside of the mayor’s chamber told them to wait while they sent word in. Sizhui shifted from foot to foot, hoping they could resolve this simply.
It would probably be just a fine of some kind. Sizhui couldn’t imagine it being outrageous for a petty crime like this, especially in a small town. Sizhui calculated that his pocket money should be able to cover it.
“—glad to help, no payment necessary—” A low, familiar voice drifted out of the partially open door.
Sizhui’s heart gave a shudder. The color drained from his face. Like a wild animal suddenly caught in a deity-binding net, he fought instinctively to break free of the grip on his arm, but it only held on tighter.
“Afraid now, boy? You shoulda thought of that earlier.” The man jeered.
“Please let me go,” Sizhui pleaded. “Or can we please come back later—”
“Sent them in.” A different voice spoke from inside the chamber, and the same guard beckoned them. The constable tugged Sizhui forward.
Sizhui felt nausea in the pit of his stomach.
Inside, a bearded man that looked to be the mayor bowed to the figure in white. “Hanguang-jun, I’m afraid I have some local troubles to deal with, so please excuse me for not seeing you out. Thank you again for all your help in the past few days.”
“Of course.” Hanguang-jun returned the bow gracefully. He turned to go but stopped dead in his tracks.
Sizhui knew he must be a sight to behold. Dried mud caked his tunic and pants, which hung wrinkled and askew on him. Patches of it were mixed with blood stains from the cuts on his hand. There was even a tear on one of his sleeves. Strands of his hair had fallen out of their bindings and fell loosely over his face.
Sizhui did not dare to meet Hanguang-jun’s eyes. He clasped his hands together to stop their slight tremor, but it only seemed to make them shake all the more.
“Your excellency,” the constable said, bowing to the mayor, “I caught this boy trespassing on town property, stealing water chestnuts from our farm, and disturbing the peace on the streets.”
“Now, let’s—” The mayor began to speak.
“Is that true?” Hanguang-jun cut in sharply before the major could finish, ignoring a look of surprise from the mayor.
Lying was strictly forbidden.
Not answering a master’s direct questions was also forbidden.
“Y-Yes,” Sizhui whispered. He felt like he was going to cry.
“Uh, Hanguang-jun, we don’t need to trouble you for this. This is just a small local matter,” the mayor said, embarrassed.
He turned to the boy, nose wrinkling slightly at the wretched state of Sizhui. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Who do you belong to? You admitted to the crime, so we’ll need your father here to compensate for the crops you stole and pay the fine.”
Sizhui’s eyes darted briefly to Hanguang-jun before returning to the mayor, paralyzed about how to answer without making Hanguang-jun lose face.
The mayor looked over the rags Sizhui was wearing. “If your family can’t afford the fine, you can also work it off,” he added magnanimously with a tinge of condescension, mistaking the boy’s hesitation.
“I will pay for him,” Hanguang-jun interceded.
“That is very kind of you, sir. But we would still want to let his parents know, if only so they can keep the boy from doing it again.”
“I will take care of that. He won’t do it again,” Hanguang-jun said simply.
Sizhui swallowed.
“Alright, then,” the mayor didn’t look entirely convinced but conceded, perhaps not willing to offend his distinguished guest.
Back at the inn, Sizhui knelt in the middle of Hanguang-jun’s room with cold sweat running down his back.
Neither of them spoke. Hanguang-jun abruptly turned and disappeared to the washing area behind the folding screen. He returned with a basin of water and cloth.
Picking up Sizhui’s left hand, Hanguang-jun gently cleaned the cuts on the boy’s palm, taking care to not cause him pain.
Sizhui watched uncertainly, a little stunned. He was braced for Hanguang-jun’s censure, not this.
“It’s just a scrape,” Sizhui said tentatively.
Hanguang-jun wrapped the wound carefully with bandages. “You are a qin-xiu . Don’t underestimate hand injuries. Are you hurt elsewhere?”
Sizhui shook his head.
“Then let’s talk.” Hanguang-jun sat back.
His master’s voice was as calm as still water, which made Sizhui all the more nervous.
“Tell me what happened.”
So Sizhui told him truthfully of the things he did, how one thing led to another.
“Trespassing, stealing, disturbing the peace...granted, the specifics are perhaps not as heinous as it sounded at first, but still. And playing a game like that? Look at the state of you. You know full well this is not how a Gusu Lan Sect disciple behaves.”
Sizhui hung his head, ashamed.
“At least you had the wits to not do it in your uniform.” Hanguang-jun pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “This is so unlike you, Sizhui. I admit, I still do not understand. Did someone put you up to this? Were you under some kind of duress?”
“No,” Sizhui said miserably. “It was all me. I knew what I was getting into, and I chose it. I fully accept the consequences—”
“Why then?” Hanguang-jun’s voice showed the first ripples of frustration. “Why would you choose to go against all your teachings and do something like this?”
Sizhui stared at his hands. He remembered the weightlessness, the lack of expectations, the thrill of being unbound.
Running is forbidden? That’s sad. I’m sorry.
“Sizhui, answer!”
Sizhui’s lips trembled. “Because...because...I just wanted to know what it was like to run like that...to be free of rules for once.
“I thought it would be harmless away from Cloud Recesses. I…” Tears welled up in Sizhui’s eyes. “I would have never done this...I try so hard to please you. I promise I won’t ever do it again…”
Sizhui raised his eyes then, wanting his master to believe him. What he saw made him freeze.
Hanguang-jun’s face was stricken and bloodless as if he had been stabbed. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion.
“A-Yuan…” Hanguang-jun worked his mouth silently for a moment, expression pained. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you that. You were meant to be free. I realize this was maybe not the life that...was hoped for you.”
Scared by what he was hearing, and not knowing why Hanguang-jun was suddenly looking so sad and calling him by his childhood name, Sizhui scooted forward and took his master’s hands.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mind! You give me lots of other things! More than I can ask for.
“I’m happy with the way things are, really.” As those words left his mouth, Sizhui found that they rang true. There was just a sliver of regret for something he would not experience again, but he was ok with that.
Hanguang-jun’s faint smile was full of sorrow. He reached to tuck a strand of the boy’s loose hair behind his ears. “I’m glad you think so.”
The sounds of merchants packing up their stands drifted through the window from the street below. The wheels of their carts squeaked as they departed.
“It’s getting late. You must be hungry. Go clean up, and we’ll go down for dinner,” Hanguang-jun said, calm once again.
“What...what about my punishment?”
His master raised an eyebrow. “Shall we say, twenty copies of the Chapter of Conduct? You can start when we get back.”
Sizhui blinked. That’s it? That’s not even the longest chapter in the house rules. He had thought for sure this would land him his first trip to the Ancestral Hall. But he wasn’t that stupid to ask. Sizhui bowed and stood.
“Sizhui,” Hanguang-jun called him when he was at the door, making him turn. “You do please me, you know?”
After Sizhui returned to Cloud Recesses, he spent the next few days after class in the library pavilion copying the Chapter of Conduct. Jingyi, who was very proud of what Sizhui had done, kept him company.
“I’m impressed, Sizhui! Didn’t think you’d actually do it! You even went beyond what I had imagined!” He punched Sizhui on the arm. “And look, you’re in one piece!”
Sizhui swatted Jingyi’s arm away but smiled. “It was a close call.”
“I think not! I mean, like, what is this? Do you even call this punishment?” Jingyi picked up a few scattered pages on the table and waved them in the air. He then sighed dramatically. “What would I give to be Hanguang-jun’s favorite.”
When Sizhui returned to his room the night he finished the twenty copies, he found a parcel sitting on his bed.
Inside was a complete set of clothes. Unlike the robes they wore at Cloud Recesses, these were designed to be practical, along with fitted sleeves and a leather belt. Utilitarian, but stylish. Most striking of all was that they were all in black.
Sizhui ran his hand over the soft fabric and frowned, puzzled. He turned it over, and a piece of paper fell out of the bundle and fluttered to the floor.
He bent to pick it up. The note was unsigned, but Sizhui recognized Hanguang-jun’s hand. His eyes widened over what it said.
For the next time you feel stifled. I trust that you won’t go too far.