As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and purple, two women emerged, walking gracefully toward the huts. One of them, slender and quick-moving, knocked gently on the neatly woven bamboo door of the middle hut, the one closest to the murmuring riverbank. Michio, ever diligent, hurried to open it. Standing before him were the two women, their figures softly illuminated by the small torches they held, their light gray clothes blending with the twilight.
"Dinner is ready," one of the women announced, her voice soft and welcoming. "Father would like our guests to share dinner with the family, in our home."
Michio glanced over his shoulder at Yul, a silent, watchful presence in the hut's corner, and Abrafo, already sprawled out on a straw mat, clearly ready for rest. A warm smile touched Michio's lips as he turned back to the women. "Please, wait for us. Let us gather our other friends." He gently nudged Abrafo's leg with his foot. "You," he instructed, "go get U-ri and Hajime. I'll go find Baishui and Jiāo."
Abrafo groaned, kicking his legs out before pushing himself into a sitting position. "Fine… I'll go get them," he grumbled, reluctantly rising from the mat and following Michio out the door.
Abrafo rapped on the door of the first hut. Hajime, looking weary, opened it, his eyes squinting against the dim light. "It's time for supper," Abrafo announced, peering inside. "What's wrong with you, old man?" he asked, spotting U-ri lying flat on his stomach.
U-ri stretched his arms with a dramatic groan, a symphony of creaks and pops. "Arthritis," he sighed, slowly pulling himself upright. "When you get to my age, you'll feel it. You've got so many wounds on your body, young one; when you get to be my age, you'll be worse off than I am."
Abrafo clapped a hand over his mouth, a suppressed giggle bubbling forth. "Hmm... I believe I'm going to age beautifully because of my strong body," he teased, still chuckling at U-ri's plight. He waited, impatiently, but U-ri seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "Come on, don't keep our hosts waiting, Mister Ambassador."
Just then, Michio rushed back, a worried frown etched on his face. "Baishui and the maid are gone," he announced, his voice laced with concern. "I looked everywhere, but I didn't see them."
"I guess it was because of the previous discord between Baishui and Yul," Abrafo surmised, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "He finally decided to run away."
"I don't think he and his maid ran away," Michio countered, shaking his head. "Their things are still in the hut."
"It's impolite to keep our hosts waiting for us," U-ri said, his usual complaints momentarily forgotten in the face of proper etiquette. "We'll go eat first and bring them something to eat later."
With that, the five men followed the two village women toward Saja's house, leaving the mystery of Baishui's disappearance hanging in the twilight.
Meanwhile, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moonlight, a truly magnificent sight unfolded. A long, shimmering tail, several feet in length and covered in glistening white scales, gently twirled in the cool water. Baishui was submerged in the creek, letting the current flow over his impressive white dragon tail, a profound sense of relief washing over him.
He heaved a deep sigh, resting his head on one of the smooth rocks, his gaze fixed on the luminous moon and the dazzling, clear starry sky. "Jiāo," he murmured, his voice laced with contentment, "did father give you any advice before you left?"
Jiāo, who had been quietly observing him, glanced at Baishui. "No," she replied, her tone flat.
"The scale on my neck belongs to my father, right?" Baishui asked, his voice low, a knowing suspicion in his words.
Jiāo nodded, a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Since you already know, why bother to ask again?"
"So, before you came up from the lake, did you meet father?" Baishui pressed, a hint of something deeper in his eyes.
"Yes," Jiāo confirmed. "Do you think His Majesty doesn't know that you are leaving with those mortals? He knows everything, but chooses to ignore your actions, mainly because—"
Baishui cut her off, a weary resignation in his voice. "Because he wants me to crawl back to him, defeated, I know." He sighed again, his magnificent tail twirling with a silent agitation in the water.
"His Majesty has his reasons," Jiāo said, her voice softening slightly. "Any decision he makes is because he loves you." She looked at Baishui, whose tail continued to swish. "Ninth Prince, since we have brought them here, let's leave and go home."
Baishui's response was indifferent, almost cold. "You can leave if you want. I won't leave. I want to see it to the end."
Jiāo frowned, a flicker of frustration in her eyes. "Why are you so stubborn? Can't you behave normally like the other Eight Princes?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Baishui replied, his gaze unwavering, "I can't."
Back at the village chief's house, the large round table was now occupied by the five men from Tanzang and Saja's ten family members, their faces lit by the warm glow of the firelight.
After Saja, a kind-faced old man, warmly introduced his family to the five Tanzang men, the dinner began, accompanied by the gentle murmur of conversation.
"So, what exactly are the seven of you here for?" Saja asked, his gaze settling on Yul, his curiosity evident.
Yul, his resolve unwavering, knew that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, he was determined to enter Magior City and find the key to No Man's Land. He carefully placed his bowl of soup down on the table, his eyes firm. "We're going to enter Magior City," he stated plainly.
Saja chuckled softly, a sound that held a hint of wistful sadness. "No one knows the way to Magior. Although this village is a descendant of Magior City who survived the war, that was hundreds of thousands of years ago. The true location of Magior City is unknown. My grandfather once told me, many years ago, there were many travelers who also sought the way to Magior, but once they entered the forest, my grandfather never saw them come out."
"Have you ever met any of these travelers?" U-ri asked, his usual cynicism replaced by genuine intrigue.
"Umm… let me recall." Saja took a long, thoughtful puff from his bamboo pipe, pausing for a moment, his eyes distant. "The last travelers I saw were about thirty years ago. Like my grandfather told me before, we told them we didn't know the way to Magior City, so they rested for the night. The next morning, they walked into the back mountain forest. Presumably, they must all be dead, because they have never appeared since they entered the back forest."
"Did no one follow them into the back mountain?" Abrafo pressed, his brow furrowed.
"Our ancestors told us never to enter the back mountain," Saja explained, his voice serious. "The ancient legend says that there is a warrior god guarding the gate of the city. He will kill anyone who walks into Magior City if that person is not a warrior of Magior."
U-ri, ever the meticulous recorder, had already diligently written down everything Saja had revealed. "Do you believe that this god has the ability to judge who is a Magior warrior and who is not?" he inquired, his pen poised.
"I told you what others told me, so I'm not sure about the accuracy," Saja admitted, shrugging slightly.
"So, you're saying, what you heard was just rumors?" Yul clarified, a hint of skepticism in his tone.
"Although it is a rumor, the decision you make may have a great impact on you," Saja warned, his gaze direct and solemn.
"We made our decision when we left our kingdom," Yul stated, his resolve clear and unyielding.
Saja sighed, a breath of resignation. "In that case, there is no reason or words to persuade you not to enter the back forest." He looked around at the determined faces of the men at his table. "Tomorrow, I will take you to the road that will lead you to Magior City."
"So, you know the way to Magior City!" U-ri exclaimed, a hint of triumph in his voice.
Saja nodded. "I can only point you in the right direction, but I will not take part in the journey to Magior City."
"Thank you very much. We appreciate your help," Yul said, a rare, genuine note of gratitude in his usually stoic voice.
A young woman, one of Saja's daughters, began circulating around the table, placing a small, intricately carved bowl in front of each man. Then, the women began pouring a thick, sweet, crumbly, sticky white liquid, almost like a broth, into the bowls.
Michio picked up his bowl, examining the strange concoction with a curious frown. "What is this thick white thing?" he asked, looking at Saja.
"It's goat's milk fermented with rice wine," Saja explained, a twinkle in his eye. "It's a bit sour, but the aftertaste is sweet. You can't drink too much…"
"How come?" Abrafo asked, intrigued, already reaching for his bowl.
Saja's smile widened. "It'll get you drunk."
"Then let's not drink too much," Yul cautioned, a wary glance at the other four men.
Saja chuckled, picking up his own bowl. "You don't have to drink too much, just a sip. It's a drink we only offer when we welcome guests," he assured them.
U-ri, ever mindful of customs, knew that different cultures had different traditions. To avoid rudeness and to show their respect, he raised his bowl high. "Since I can get drunk," he declared with a grin, "I'll drink a full bowl to show our gratitude to you!" He raised his bowl higher. "To our host, thank you for your hospitality!"
While everyone, except Yul, enthusiastically drank their bowls of fermented goat rice wine, Yul merely touched the liquid to his lips, pretending to drink it. Yul knew from experience that while their host Saja had a good heart, he didn't want to take any chances.
Hajime, however, took a large gulp, his eyes widening. He then set down his bowl with a thump. "This wine tastes bitter and sour, but it comes with a very sweet aftertaste. This taste is much more enjoyable than margaritas or sex on the beach." He took another sip, a blissful expression spreading across his face. "This tastes a bit like a tequila sour chased by paloma. I like it better than any cocktail I've had before." He took yet another sip.
"Cocktail? What's a cocktail?" Abrafo asked, his brow furrowed in utter bewilderment.
"Mixed drinks," Hajime blurted out, then suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm. He realized he had said something he shouldn't have. He laughed awkwardly, a nervous tremor in his voice. "I'm not sure what I'm talking about... I think I'm drunk."
Although Hajime's drinking capacity wasn't the best, he certainly wouldn't get drunk after just three sips of any pure wine. Yet, a dizzying top-heaviness settled over him, and his eyelids felt impossibly heavy. He rubbed his eyes twice, willing them to focus, but the scene in front of him had already blurred into an indistinct swirl of colors.
Instinctively, Hajime's hand reached out, grasping Yul's thigh. "I think I'm really drunk," he mumbled, his voice thick with burgeoning unconsciousness. He squinted his eyes again, shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it, and turned to look at Yul, only to find that Yul had also slumped over, completely passed out.
Hajime tried three times to push himself upright, but his limbs felt like lead, drained of all strength. He finally surrendered, letting his head fall heavily onto the table. He forced his eyes to the left, seeing Abrafo, U-ri, and Michio also lying unconscious, their heads resting precariously on the table's edge or against the floor. He turned his head back towards Yul, his upper eyelid slowly, inexorably, covering his iris. With a last, desperate effort, he reached for Yul's face, his fingers brushing against his cheek, and muttered one final word before darkness claimed him: "Yul…"
Saja stared at the five prone figures, their heads slumped on the table's edge and on the floor, completely unconscious. He sighed, a soft, melancholy sound in the quiet room. "I persuaded you not to enter Magior City," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet regret. "I have warned you that the decisions you make may have a great impact on you." He picked up his own wine bowl, untouched until now, and continued to drink, his eyes lingering on the sleeping forms of his unwitting guests.