The fragrant aroma of steeped tea filled the room, curling through the air like a silent mediator between the two brothers seated across from each other. Both glared intently, their deep frowns a mirror of their mutual disdain. Sect Leader Mao, distinguished by a silver beard that framed his face and hair neatly bound in a tight bun, sat with an air of quiet authority. Across from him, the Sect Leader of Dingfeng, bald and weathered, bore a face etched with deep wrinkles that made his entire head resemble a well-worn leather ball. Despite their shared blood, their expressions were anything but familial; scowls carved deep into their features as they raised their cups of tea to their lips.
Xue Laohu sat silently to the side, observing the ritual with weary amusement. He had seen this play out countless times before. He knew, with resigned certainty, how it would end. Sect Leader Mao would inevitably blow too hard on the tea, then take an ill-advised sip, only to burn his tongue. His elder brother, the Sect Leader of Dingfeng, would laugh uproariously and follow it with his predictable taunt: "Didi, you are as clumsy as ever."
As the two Sect Leaders lifted their cups, their actions synchronized in an almost theatrical manner, Xue Laohu's sharp eyes darted between them. The tea's steam wafted gently upwards, teasing their noses with its delicate fragrance. Both men tipped their cups, the amber liquid nearing their lips. Xue Laohu braced for the inevitable yelp, his prediction already taking shape in his mind.
And yet, the scene unfolded differently than he expected. A loud, startled yelp broke the tension, followed by the unmistakable sound of scalding tea splashing onto the floor. But this time, it wasn't Sect Leader Mao clutching his mouth in pain. Instead, it was the Sect Leader of Dingfeng who flailed about, his tongue thrust out dramatically as he fanned his hand over his scorched mouth.
Xue Laohu's brows rose in surprise as Sect Leader Mao, for once, remained composed, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He took another sip of his tea—calm, deliberate, and entirely unbothered. His gleaming eyes betrayed his smug satisfaction as he turned to Xue Laohu, raising a thumb in triumphant acknowledgment.
It was then that Xue Laohu realized the truth: Sect Leader Mao had taken his earlier advice and was drinking iced tea. "Ahem," Xue Laohu cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the simmering tension between the brothers. "About the territories," he began, his tone measured and diplomatic. "I was informed that Sect Dingbu and Sect Dingfeng had reached an agreement—neither sect would recruit prospective disciples from the other's territory. Is that correct?"
Sect Leader Mao nodded, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light of the nearby lantern. He stroked his silver beard with deliberate slowness, his voice resonant and firm as he replied, "That is correct. Yet, someone has been sneaking into my territory, recruiting disciples." His gaze turned sharply toward his elder brother, disdain pooling in his narrowed eyes.
The Sect Leader of Dingfeng, still nursing his burned tongue with his hand, gave a dismissive sneer. "It is hardly my fault that people would rather join my sect over that Dingbu Sect of yours," he retorted, his words laced with venom and triumph. His thin lips curled into a smirk, though the redness on his tongue betrayed the sting of his earlier folly.
Xue Laohu's keen eyes darted between the two men. The tension was evident, crackling in the room like static before a storm. He let their words settle for a moment before speaking again, his voice calm but carrying a weight of authority. "As I understand it, the river divides the two mountains, marking the boundary between your territories," he began, his hand moving to the large scroll he carried. He had spent the entire night drafting, every line and mark a testament to his meticulous effort.
"I propose we resolve this dispute with a game," Xue Laohu announced, his stern tone cutting through the animosity like a blade. His eyes gleamed as he looked from one brother to the other, gauging their reactions.
"A game?" The Sect Leader of Dingfeng echoed, his brow lifting in curiosity. His previous irritation seemed to dissipate as his attention piqued.
Xue Laohu unfurled the scroll with a dramatic flair, revealing a set of neatly written rules and an intricate diagram of the playing field. The bold title at the top read Baseball, written with thick strokes to command attention. He sighed heavily, a hand running through his hair, before addressing the two Sect Leaders seated before him. "I'm only going to explain this once, so listen carefully." His tone was firm, a clear signal to focus.
He tapped the title with his finger, drawing their gaze to the word. "Baseball is a game played with a stick and a ball between two teams," he began, pausing to consider the best way to simplify the concept. "Each team has nine players on the field at a time. The game revolves around two main roles: the pitcher, who throws the ball, and the batter, who uses the stick to hit it. Then there's the catcher, who stays behind the batter to catch the ball if it's missed."
As he continued, Xue Laohu pointed to the diagram, highlighting the positions he had meticulously drawn. "There are also four infielders: the first baseman, second baseman, third baseman, and the shortstop, who stands between second and third base." His finger traced the squiggly character he had scrawled for "shortstop," carefully explaining its strategic importance. "In the outfield, there are three fielders: left, right, and center. Their job is to catch the ball if it's hit far."
Xue Laohu glanced up, noting with satisfaction that the Mao brothers were paying close attention, though their brows were furrowed in concentration. "The goal is simple: hit the ball and avoid letting the opposing team catch it. Understood?" He fixed them with a sharp glare, daring them to object.
The Sect Leader of Dingfeng's hand shot up, his face twisting in confusion. "Wait. You mean to tell me we are supposed to hit the ball with a stick and... not let the other team catch it?" His tone dripped with skepticism.
Xue Laohu nodded. "That's correct. The batter—the person with the stick—has three chances to make contact with the ball. If they miss all three, it's a strikeout. Each team gets three outs per inning, and the game consists of nine innings."
As he spoke, his enthusiasm grew. He gestured animatedly, mimicking the swing of a bat and the arc of a soaring ball, his voice bright with excitement. The Mao brothers, however, remained puzzled, their faces contorting as they processed the unfamiliar rules. Just as Xue Laohu prepared to continue, Sect Leader Mao interjected.
"Most runs? I thought the winner would be the team that hits the most balls," Lord Mao said, his voice skeptical.
"Not quite," Xue Laohu corrected, a patient smile on his face. "You can hit every ball perfectly, but if the opposing team catches them, you're still out. Baseball is a team effort. Everyone plays an equally important role. Runs are scored when a player hits the ball, and safely lands on a base, eventually he will circle around to home base." He traced the bases on the scroll with his finger, nodding as he explained. "A player can also 'steal' a base if they're quick enough."
"Steal?" The Sect Leader of Dingfeng exclaimed, scandalized. "That's absurd! How can stealing be allowed in any game?"
Xue Laohu chuckled. "That's what makes baseball so unique. And then there's the homerun," he added, his voice rising with excitement. "That's when the batter hits the ball so hard, it leaves the field entirely. It's the ultimate move!" He mimicked the motion of a triumphant batter, hands extended as if watching the ball soar through the air.
Three grueling hours later, after Xue Laohu had painstakingly explained every rule, position, and strategy of the game, the brothers finally agreed. They decided to settle their territorial dispute with a match of baseball. The winner would claim everything touching the river that divided their lands. To prepare, they set the game three months from that day, giving themselves time to recruit players, train, and master the rules.
As the meeting concluded, the two Sect Leaders exchanged fiery glares, their animosity undiminished. Huffing and puffing like angry bulls, they turned their backs on one another and stormed out of the room in opposite directions. The tension lingered even as their footsteps faded down the hall.
By the time the sun had set and the moon cast its pale glow over the land, Xue Laohu dragged himself to his room, utterly spent. He collapsed onto his mattress, sinking into its comforting embrace. For now, at least, the battle had been postponed, replaced by the promise of a game that would decide everything. With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him.
Shudu tossed and turned under the oppressive weight of sleeplessness, his mind restless as the dark hours dragged on. Finally, with a sharp growl of frustration, he sat up. "Dammit!" he muttered, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night. His bare feet met the icy wooden floor with a soft thud, sending a shiver up his spine.
From the shadows of the room, Xiao Zongzi, perched in her intricate spiderweb, tilted her head in curiosity as she tenderly devoured a moth caught in her silk. "Master, where are you going?" she asked, her delicate voice carrying an edge of concern.
"To collect a debt," Shudu replied, a sly grin spreading across his face, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. He shot her a mischievous glance before striding toward the door. Xiao Zongzi sighed, shaking her head as her master disappeared into the hallway leaving her no choice but to follow.
The faint creak of floorboards announced his arrival at Xue Tuzi's room. There, the beauty slept soundly, cocooned in a fortress of blankets that seemed almost absurd in their abundance. Shudu paused in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "Damn, how many blankets does this man need? Is he that cold?" he muttered under his breath as he stepped closer.
Carefully, Shudu lifted the edge of the topmost blanket and slipped beneath it, navigating the labyrinth of bedding with the precision of a thief. Xiao Zongzi scuttled up the headboard, her big eyes watching with quiet exasperation. "Master, you're going to get yourself hurt," she warned softly, but her words were met with a dismissive wave.
"Shh…" Shudu whispered, his focus unwavering as he burrowed deeper. His fingers searched through the endless layers until they found their prize—Jiao Jiao, the Gu worm, curled snugly against Xue Tuzi's chest like a perfect little ball of living silk. With a gentle poke, Shudu roused the creature from its peaceful slumber. "Xiao Jiao, come," he murmured, coaxing the Gu worm into his waiting hands.
Jiao Jiao stretched and wriggled, his plump body shimmering faintly in the low light. Shudu held him up, inspecting him with the sharp eye of a parent both amused and chastising. "Look at you," Shudu scolded softly, "engorging yourself and not sharing your spoils with your Papa." The Gu worm rubbed its bloated belly shyly, its crescent-shaped eyes glowing with innocent delight.
Shudu's grin widened as he admired Jiao Jiao's size. "Mama's been feeding you well, I see…" he remarked, his gaze drifting to Xue Tuzi. The man remained blissfully unaware, his face serene yet marred by an occasional twitch of discomfort, as though his dreams were teetering on the edge of unease.
But as Shudu watched, the serene mask began to crack. Xue Tuzi's brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his body trembled faintly. It was as if he were caught in the grip of a reoccurring nightmare, one he couldn't escape even beneath the fortress of blankets. Shudu's mischievous smile faltered for a moment as he studied the sleeping beauty.
What began as a pleasant dream—a quiet moment of Xue Tuzi mending clothes for a younger child—quickly morphed into a living nightmare. The peaceful rhythm of thread and needle gave way to chaos as a swarm of wasps invaded the orphanage. Their monstrous buzz filled the air, a low, menacing hum that grew louder as screams and cries of terror echoed through the halls. Xue Tuzi clutched the trembling child to his chest, the boy no older than seven, as the thick, acrid miasma of death consumed the orphanage. The once-familiar space turned unrecognizable, cloaked in darkness and despair.
"Gege... I'm scared," the boy whimpered, his small hands clutching tightly at Xue Tuzi's tattered clothes. His tear-streaked face was pale, his voice barely audible over the loud noise of destruction. The walls trembled under the onslaught, and beyond them, the sound of carnage unfolded—maddened crunching and sickening squelches as the insect demons devoured children and adults alike. Limbs littered the floor, and blood painted the once-safe haven of the orphanage a macabre crimson.
Xue Tuzi, though trembling himself, forced a mask of courage onto his young face. His bare feet were rooted to the ground for a moment too long before he mustered the strength to act. "Don't worry, Didi. Gege will protect you," he promised, his voice steady despite the terror in his heart. He knelt before the boy and wrapped a cloth around his eyes, knotting it securely. "Close your eyes, and no matter what, don't take it off. Promise me you won't let go of my hand." His tone was stern but kind, and the boy nodded, his small body racked with sobs as tears soaked the cloth.
The two moved cautiously at first, but the nightmare worsened. A demon noticed them, its multifaceted eyes gleaming with malice. It darted toward them, stinger poised, but Xue Tuzi managed to upend a table in its path, the loud crash briefly deterring it. The reprieve was short-lived, however; the hunt was on.
They ran through the orphanage in frantic circles, weaving around overturned furniture and piles of bodies. The demon chasing them was relentless, its laughter echoing off the walls—a grating, piercing sound that seemed to come from all directions. It had claimed its prey, warning the others to stay away, delighting in the thrill of the chase.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on the smaller boy, and after a few steps, he collapsed to the ground, his legs unable to carry him further. "Didi, get up!" Xue Tuzi cried, panic rising in his chest. The boy didn't move, his breathing ragged. Without hesitation, Xue Tuzi hauled him onto his back, his own legs trembling under the weight as he forced himself to continue.
Everywhere he turned, there were demons feasting on flesh, their grotesque jaws dripping with blood and viscera. The sickening smell of death filled his nostrils, and the crunch of bones shattered his resolve with each step. His breath hitched as his vision blurred, fatigue and despair threatening to overtake him.
Then, the inevitable happened. His foot caught on debris, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The demon pursuing them emerged from the shadows, its massive frame blocking any escape. It stepped forward slowly, savoring the moment, its claws clicking against the wooden floor. Its vile mouth curled into a grotesque grin as it reached out, claws sinking into the younger boy's leg.
"Didi!" Xue Tuzi screamed, his hands wrapping around the boy's arm in desperation. He pulled with all his might, his small body straining against the demon's superior strength. The child's cries of agony pierced his ears, a sound that would haunt him for years to come.
The boy's hand slipped from his grasp, and Xue Tuzi fell backward. The last thing he heard was the boy screaming his name, his voice swallowed by the demon's laughter.
The child's frail leg dragged limply across the blood-slick floor, leaving a trail behind as the insect demon lifted him into the air. Its grotesque jaws, segmented and twitching, opened unnaturally wide, revealing jagged fangs gleaming with malice. Without hesitation, the demon plunged its fangs deep into the boy's skull, a sickening crunch echoing through the corridor as it pierced the fragile bone. Blood gushed forth as the demon began to chatter, pulverizing the child's skull to reach the soft, vulnerable brain. It devoured its prize with horrifying precision, its laughter reverberating off the walls, cold and cruel.
Xue Tuzi's scream died before it could escape his throat as a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. He was yanked backward into the shadows of a narrow, dark hallway. His body went rigid with fear until a familiar voice whispered softly, "Xiao Tuzi. You're alive. Thank goodness."
The voice, warm and tender, belonged to a tall, lean man whose calm demeanor stood in sharp contrast to the chaos around them. He pulled Xue Tuzi into a tight embrace, his hand gently patting the trembling boy's head. His long black hair, tied high in a ponytail, fell in loose strands around his sharp, phoenix-like eyes. Those eyes held a quiet reassurance that cut through Xue Tuzi's panic, their gaze steady and unwavering.
"Gege… Didi… he's…" Xue Tuzi stammered through choking sobs, his tear-streaked face buried in the man's chest.
The man's expression softened further, his voice calm and steady. "I know, Xiao Tuzi. But you're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you." He kissed the child's forehead, his lips warm against the cold sweat that had gathered there. With his sleeve, he brushed away the tears streaming down Xue Tuzi's face.
"Gege… I'm scared. I'm so scared… I—" Xue Tuzi's words dissolved into muffled cries.
The man silenced him with a finger pressed lightly to his lips. "You won't die," he said firmly. "I'll make sure of it."
The words were a lifeline, and Xue Tuzi clung to them as tightly as he clung to the man's robes. He watched helplessly as his Gege scanned the dimly lit corridor, his sharp features illuminated faintly by the flickering light of a lantern somewhere in the distance. Without a word, the man scooped him up and carried him toward a nearby wooden barrel tucked into the corner.
"I want you to hide here," he whispered, his voice low but soothing as he crouched to place Xue Tuzi inside.
"No!" Xue Tuzi wailed, his arms tightening like a vine around the man's neck. "Please don't leave me, Gege! Don't leave me! I'm scared. So scared!" His tiny voice cracked, raw with desperation, his small body trembling violently.
The man let out a quiet sigh, his hand stroking Xue Tuzi's hair in slow, reassuring motions. "I promise to come back," he murmured. He tried again to ease the boy into the barrel, but Xue Tuzi refused to let go, burying his tear-streaked face deeper into his Gege's chest.
"Take me with you," Xue Tuzi sobbed, looking up with red, swollen eyes. Tears streamed freely down his face, mingling with the snot pooling on his upper lip.
The man's lips quirked in a faint, bittersweet smile. He pressed a kiss to Xue Tuzi's forehead, then another to his temple, and finally one to his tear-streaked cheek. "You can't come with me," he said gently. "It's too dangerous. Be a good boy and stay here. I promise I'll come back for you."
With a final, firm motion, he pried Xue Tuzi's arms away and tucked him into the barrel, sealing it shut with the heavy lid. The muffled cries from within tore at his heart, but he crouched down and whispered through the cracks, "Remember—be as quiet as a mouse, and I'll return."
As his footsteps faded into the chaos beyond, Xue Tuzi sat huddled in the darkness of the barrel, his hands clasped over his mouth to stifle his sobs. That was the last time he saw his Gege.
Blah Blah Blah:
Can you tell I'm a huge fan of the sport? I hope I do it justice and I apologize for bringing down the mood. I promise not to do this often.