Darkscythe Drake
patreon
Great Sage, Equal to Heaven and Above Brockton Sotapanna 1.12
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 20:09:52 +0000 UTCSoon after the drum and the bell had sounded, the Dragon Kings of the Three Oceans got the message and arrived promptly, all congregating in the outer courtyard. “Elder Brother,” said Aoqin, “what emergency made you beat the drum and strike the bell?” “Good Brother,” answered the old Dragon, “it’s a long story! We have here a certain Heaven-born sage from the Flower-Fruit Mountain, who came here and claimed to be my near neighbor. He subsequently demanded a weapon; the steel fork I presented he deemed too small, and the halberd I offered too light. Finally he himself took that piece of rare, divine iron by which the depth of the Heavenly River was fixed and used it for mock combat. He is now sitting in the palace and also demanding some sort of battle dress. We have none of that here. So we sounded the drum and the bell to invite you all to come. If you happen to have some such outfit, please give it to him so that I can send him out of this door!”
When Aoqin heard this, he was outraged. “Let us brothers call our army together,” he said, “and arrest him. What’s wrong with that?” “Don’t talk about arresting him!” the old Dragon said, “don’t talk about arresting him! That piece of iron—a small stroke with it is deadly and a light tap is fatal! The slightest touch will crack the skin and a small rap will injure the muscles!” Aorun, the Dragon King of the Western Ocean, said, “Second elder brother should not raise his hand against him. Let us rather assemble an outfit for him and get him out of this place. We can then present a formal complaint to Heaven, and Heaven will send its own punishment.”
“You are right,” said Aoshun, the Dragon King of the Northern Ocean, “I have here a pair of cloud-treading shoes the color of lotus root.” Aorun, the Dragon King of the Western Ocean said, “I brought along a cuirass of chain-mail made of yellow gold.” “And I have a cap with erect phoenix plumes, made of red gold,” said Aoqin, the Dragon King of the Southern Ocean. The old Dragon King was delighted and brought them into the Water-Crystal Palace to present the gifts. Wukong duly put on the gold cap, the gold cuirass, and cloud-treading shoes, and, wielding his compliant rod, he fought his way out in mock combat, yelling to the dragons, “Sorry to have bothered you!” The Dragon Kings of the Four Oceans were outraged, and they consulted together about filing a formal complaint, of which we make no mention here.
-Journey to the West, chapter 3
-x-
Sun Wukong was no stranger to discovery. In his centuries of living, he was treated to new sights every time he ventured forth from his beloved mountain. From the physical constructs of man and nature to the immaterial essence that composed knowledge, he treated every newfound revelation with the care it deserved. If it wasn’t for this trait, he would’ve never found the woodcutter who led him to his first master, who bequeathed upon him a new realm of knowledge with the secrets of the Dao and immortality. His Great Journey reignited that spark of discovery, encountering new yaoguai and oddities while helping him further understand the realm upon which he walked. The Celestial Court might care little for the workings of mortals and espouse the greatness and perfection of the heavens, but his time among the Jade Emperor’s courtiers had taught him something few knew, and even fewer were willing to acknowledge if they were aware:
Heaven was…boring.
It was stagnant, like a statue abandoned in an old temple. Everything was perfect and everyone had a role in maintaining a cosmic balance that, while important, left little room for anything else, including innovation. There was no need for new things or to improve old things, so why should they try? Old Laozi with his alchemy was one of the exceptions. The constellations and spirits he befriended were all kindly folk, but they were unable to grasp beyond the realm of the heavens. Parties, banquets, duels, decrees…it grew repetitive. Yes, he had many of those back with his sworn brothers and simian subjects on his mountain, but there was always an element of…freshness to them. Like eager and curious children, ready to take on the world.
The mortal world was ever-changing, and some might call it chaotic. At times, it was true, but chaos always birthed the most fascinating and original ideas. And nowhere did Wukong find himself more enamored with that fact than in the city of Brockton Bay.
A marvel a day. Discovering a new delight in this foreign and queer land every time he ventured from his gracious host’s home—food, people, more food, machines, clothing, more food. Even the ‘heroes’, their sorceries, and the mysterious apparitions left him burning with thousandfold questions, despite the disturbing nature of the latter…which still warranted further investigation…but he digressed.
‘Already the sun has risen, and I am positively enamored with this device!’ he thought, feeling water cascading down his fur. He guided the ‘nozzle’ around his body, letting the jets of water spray him. Steam filled the room and floated above the pale curtain drawn around him. ‘This ‘shower’ is such a convenience I don’t know why I haven’t seen it before!’
The Monkey King shook the nozzle over his head and giggled. ‘Like a miniature rainstorm over my head or any other part of my body if I so wish!’ He then grabbed his tail and generously sprayed the furry appendage. ‘It beats constantly using buckets and hands to clean! Especially those tricky crevices that need additional washing…’
He snatched the blue bottle from the nearby stand and squirted the viscous liquid over his head. ‘And this cleaning fluid works wonders! It lacks the scent of the leafy mixture my monkeys used to make, but it’s so much more fun to play with!’
Vigorously scrubbing the liquid over his head and body, Wukong was sure he would make a funny sight to any who knew him, with his flattened fur mixed in white. ‘The Handsome Monkey King, drenched in milk and smelling of flowers! All who behold him shall suffer an agonizing death by laughter!’
An idea crept into Wukong’s head. He tilted his head back and swallowed the incoming torrent, letting it fill his mouth before gargling it down…mostly.
‘Though I must note, there’s something in the water that tastes odd,’ he thought as he lowered his jaw and excess water flowed out like the raging Water Curtain. ‘Hardly a suitable taste for drinking, it’s too metallic. Water must be kept pure!’
He lifted his tail and was about to guide the spraying nozzle to a rather tricky spot when the scent of glorious dajiang drifted into his nostrils. ‘Hmm…I might’ve missed a few more spots…but Peizhi-xiānshēng’s food would be treason to miss!’
Giving his body one more spray-over until the white left his fur, Wukong turned the handle to shut the water off and pulled back the curtain. He looked at himself in the small mirror nearby and slicked back the fur from over his eyes, nodding with approval at his slicked-back mane. “Yes, quite the improvement! Were Master Tang here, he would lecture me about my vanity, but even a monkey like me must strive to look his best!”
He’d bathed in better waters before. The healing springs of Heaven replenished the soul and washed away all illnesses from the body. A single drop could free a man from all worries and rejuvenate an elder on death’s door. None could compare in quality…but this?
This was…novel. And he’d oh so missed the sensation of novelty.
Grabbing the fluffy towel from the rack next to the mirror, he wiped himself until he was sure every drop of water had dried from his body. Once he felt satisfied his fur was nice and dry - disregarding the steam of course - he looked toward the door, where a chair sat to its left. Draped over the backrest were his robes, and when Wukong picked them up, he felt a frown creep up on him.
‘Speaking of looking my best…I’m afraid my robes no longer reflect that truth.’
The robes weren’t anything remarkable; a set of pilgrim’s robes like many he had seen on the bodies of monks and travelers, but he hadn’t worn one since his days with Master Subodhi. His monkey subjects and friends provided him with fine clothes, his dear friend Ao Guang gifted him his greaves, Golden Suozi Armor, and phoenix-tailed crown; and both Lady Guanyin and Master Tang helped him acquire new ones after his release. 500 years under a mountain did not do well for one’s clothing or hygiene. He did not need spare clothing back then, and if required, he would go nude; he was still a monkey, and he had fur! Not like the pale, defenseless skin of mortals.
‘I don't believe it would be polite in these circumstances, I’m afraid.’ He examined the robes from top to bottom, passing over the burn marks on the sleeves and rubbing the fraying strings of the hems between his fingers. ‘When did I even get these robes in the first place?’
He was sure his armor was on him before his slumber…so where did it go?
Talking. Finality.
Screaming.
Thunder.
Hands.
Stone.
…
…Wukong shook his head. ‘No matter. It still does not change the unfortunate fact that the false lóng had the nerve to damage my only robe. That must be rectified at once!’
He quickly put on the robes and headed to the kitchen, where his dear and gracious friend was stirring a pot of…oooh, delicious dajiang!
“Ah, a warm soup brightens this Old Sun’s morning, Peizhi-xiānshēng!” he exclaimed and hopped into his usual chair.
“Wha - oh, Wukong!” Peizhi turned to the Monkey King, clutching his ladle. The poor man must get a handle on his nerves. “D-did you finish with the shower?”
“I feel as though I have cycled through samsara into the realm of the bodhisattvas!” Wukong replied, leaning back and staring at the ceiling as utter contentment exuded from his stone body. “My list of your people’s fascinating inventions is growing li by li! A new monkey has been born, and he sits before you!”
Peizhi raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Uhm…I’m glad you liked it?”
“I most certainly have! I shall endeavor to use this shower every day!” Wukong leaned forward and flashed his most charming grin. “Though your towel feels a bit dated, I must add. Is it normal for the hairs to fall out after you wipe yourself?”
The shopkeeper let out a chuckle as he poured a helping of soup into a bowl. “That’s good, I try to keep a clean house, even if - wait.” He froze with the bowl in hand, the ladle still dripping soup over it. “What did you say about the towel?”
“Well, I found some hard-to-reach spots that the water didn’t dry off and I had to scrub them vigorously, and your towel performed a splendid job.” Wukong hummed and scratched his chin. “Perhaps I might have been too eager in drying my fur. But that bottle of cleaning fluid worked wonders! Certainly better than the acacia leaves that old mandrill by the springs brewed! It even made funny squeaks when I squeezed it all the way!”
Well, there was already a hairless strip on the towel, so it was at the end of its life anyways.
Hm, why was his friend’s eye twitching like that?
“Did you say something?” he asked. What did dollars have anything to do with his shower? Wasn’t that their currency?
Peizhi jerked up, spilling droplets of their precious breakfast onto the floor. “N-no! Just…it’s nothing. Enjoy your breakfast!”
He quickly slid the bowl over to Wukong and poured himself one. A moment later, Wukong was happily slurping down the soup. His host wasn’t as invigorated, instead taking small spoonfuls and sipping them measuredly. His eyes darted to the door with every sip; for shame, he should enjoy the salivating fruits of his morning labor!
“Well…what are you doing today? Will you go out to explore the city again?”
Finding the last slurp of his bowl, Wukong moved to answer when he caught sight of his sleeves. It had fortunately not bathed itself in the delicious dajiang soup, but…well, better not to delay it.
“‘Twas my plan when I awoke, but there is actually a matter in which I would require your assistance, Peizhi-xiānshēng. I would not disturb the tranquility of your humble establishment, but fate has ordained that I act, and I must seek your advice.”
Peizhi blinked. He gently placed his spoon into his half-empty bowl and drummed his fingers on the table’s edge. The poor fellow needs to get out of his shop more, he looks so pale! “Eh…what exactly do you need help with?”
“I am afraid the màopáihuò left a severe mark on my body that I have neglected, and now I can no longer ignore its effects.”
His host’s eyes widened and concern began to mar his face. “What do you mean? Where did he hurt you?”
Wukong took a deep breath…and lifted his arm high, showing off the char-ridden sleeve. “That dreadful ruffian had the nerve to dirty my robe! Not only that, but the sheer rudeness he displayed in my lessons frayed it apart! At this rate, this Old Sun fears he will be left wearing scraps!”
…
…
“…he burnt your robe? That’s the severe mark?”
“Unfortunately so. Right after I grew attached to it! Good robes aren’t easy to find, no matter what the monks say!”
‘Yes! There’s the twitch! Does Peizhi-xiānshēng have an illness that damages his eyes? Oh dear, it might take me a while to brew the proper remedy…’
Peizhi then shook his head and mumbled further. Before Wukong could inquire further, his friend’s eyes returned to normal, and he trailed the length of the sleeve. “Is it just the sleeve?”
“The false lóng left his vile flame all over. And I wouldn’t be wrong to assume that a good scrub would further exacerbate the damage, correct?”
“Can you show me?”
Wukong hopped on the chair and tugged the charred ends of the robe. The once-vivid blue had begun to fade into a dull gray, and the white was dotted with small patches of black. “Just look at this! This is no way for a monkey to properly dress!”
Peizhi looked Wukong up and down and a weak grimace overcame him. “I mean…it’s not that bad…but yeah, it doesn’t look like a wash and dry will fix it.”
The Monkey King exhaled loudly. “I feared this, yet I dared hold onto hope.” He hopped back into his chair and clapped his hands with a chipper smile. “Then would you mind telling this Old Sun where might acquire new robes? For all my talents and skills, I am no tailor.”
Peizhi rubbed the back of his head and scrunched his brow. “I mean…I have some spare clothes, but I don’t know if they’ll fit.”
Wukong studied his host’s clothing. A faded brown blue shirt with a folded collar, with tiny buttons lined below the neck. Peering under the table, he saw his pants were of a hard black and lined with peculiar stitching, held at the waist by a belt with a metal clasp.
…no. ‘Twould be amusing, but…wrong.
“I would not wish to further impede upon your hospitality, my friend. Though I am sure your clothes are worthy of kings, I do not think they will properly accommodate my handsome self. Nor do they have any room for my precious tail to stick out!”
Wukong’s tail waved in the air and Peizhi followed it. “Ah, right, the tail. Yeah, I don’t think cutting open a hole will do.” He hummed and glanced outside before a spark of revelation glimmered within his eyes. Wukong looked on with curiosity as Peizhi bit his lip and sighed.
“I…might know someone who can help you. She’s an old soul around this neighborhood, and she owns a tailor shop not far from here.”
Wukong perked up. “Oh? The local seamstress? Capital! Tell me where she is and I’ll be on my way!”
Peizhi quickly turned to him and stammered. “Um…I think it’s best if I took you to her.”
“Why is that?”
The shopkeeper paused, and his face made a remarkable impression of a hall of asuras before returning to its previous state. “Well…she might not…react well to just you coming in. Parahumans tend to put off people, especially when they’re…” he gestured at Wukong wordlessly.
What could he possibly be -
“Ah, you are afraid she might be awestruck by my presence!” Wukong nodded and gestured at himself. That shower did wonders for his body, so he felt he was allowed some measure of vanity. “I do tend to have that effect on mortals. Very well, lead on!”
“Uh, good! That’s good…” Peizhi nodded, though he still looked unsure. “Just…can you stay out of sight until we get there?”
“Hm? Oh, our deal. I’d wish you would have a little more faith in my circle, but it would be troublesome for your daily life if those ruffians seek to avenge their shamed master.” Wukong rose and cricked his neck. He smirked at the hint of curiosity flickering within Peizhi’s eyes. “Ease your worried mind, for discretion is an art this Old Sun has long mastered!”
Leaping into the air, a puff of smoke enveloped Wukong…and a tiny cicada flew out.
“What the f- Where did you go!?” Peizhi asked as he looked around for any sign of the Monkey King. Wukong giggled inwardly; that never got old! He flew until he was right in front of Peizhi and circled his face three times before coming to a stop. The shopkeeper followed the insect with visible confusion before realization settled. He slowly stepped back and raised a shaking finger.
“Are…did you just…?”
Wukong responded by looping in the air. Peizhi’s mouth opened and closed until he forced it shut and his hands fell limp by his sides. “Huh…”
Wukong’s internal giggle threatened to roll over into laughter. Seeing mortals react to transforming guai, much less his 72 Transformations, always brought levity to his day.
Peizhi pinched his nose and took another deep breath. “Okay, okay…not now, deal with it later.” He opened his eyes and raised a finger, albeit with hesitation, and gestured for him to follow. Wukong did just that and followed his friend down the stairs and watched him put on his puffy jacket. For such material to keep one warm without fur…he wondered if the seamstress sold similar cloth.
Landing gently on Peizhi’s shoulder, Wukong buzzed as the shopkeeper headed out the door and turned over the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. ‘I haven’t seen many people come to his establishment…the life of a merchant can be fraught with risk, especially in a district filled with hoodlums.’
They walked together in silence, the monkey-turned-cicada observing the streets and Peizhi looking ahead, though occasionally his eyes flickered to the bug on his shoulder, with him muttering unintelligible words each time. People were out in their colorful clothes, manning their shops and doing whatever it was their daily life constituted of. Peizhi gave the occasional nod and greeting, but otherwise, his hands were tucked in his coat pocket as he walked with great strides. One thing that stood out to Wukong, though he didn’t notice it at first, was that the…tension, if that was the correct word…from days before, seemed to have lessened. Not gone, as evidenced by the hunched backs and darting eyes, but some people’s gaits were…less wound. As if ice was no longer forming under their feet.
If Wukong was a gambling monkey, he wouldn’t have taken the bet as to the reason.
After several minutes - the lesser divisions of hours, as Wukong learned - of traversing the worn grey-stone streets, Peizhi finally came to a halt and Wukong snapped out of his musings. Before them was a closed door, twice as wide as Peizhi’s girth, embedded with a window flanked by two wooden pillars. Above the door hung a sign with red han characters over a field of white, reading as 秀英裁缝店. Below it was written in the Yingwen script but smaller, Xiuying’s Tailor Shop.
Peizhi took a deep breath and opened the door. A lone bell rang in welcome, and Sun Wukong was treated to the sight of countless folded garments arranged in neat piles upon rows of polished wooden shelves. Color exuded from every corner and cranny, even when bathed by the yellow glare of the bulbs, under which stray specks of dust danced to the tune of spinning fans. Five mannequins stood between the shelves, each garbed in a different manner of clothing, from an ensemble resembling his dear host’s to a low-collar black overshirt with a red ribbon fastened in a peculiar manner around the neck. There was even a dark jade hanfu with pale-white linings!
‘The vibrancy, the passion! Amitabha, how long has it been since I was treated to such a shop?’
Past the shelves stood a great lacquered desk, topped with spools, paper sheets, and cloth pieces. At the center was an odd metal device, shaped like an upside-down foot with a long needle almost touching the desktop. A rustling came from underneath the desk, and a weathered voice called out in their shared native tongue.
“Just give me a moment -ah! There it is, I knew I put it next to the cotton…”
A suntanned woman rose while scratching her cheek. Her dark yet greying hair was tied in a neat bun at the back of her head while strands framed her not-too-wrinkled face. The red overshirt she wore was woolen and dyed crimson. Her hand, which held a spool of orange thread, was marked with faint cuts and calluses that told years of practicing her craft. When she turned from inspecting the spool, her eyes widened and she quickly put the tool away.
“Ah, Xiao Peizhi! How long has it been? Come come, let Su Xiuying have a look at you!” She exclaimed and gestured to him with an open palm.
Peizhi smiled and bowed to the woman. “It’s good to see you, Su-jie. Sorry I haven’t been around.”
He approached the desk and Xiuying grasped his chin, turning his head side-to-side with an appraising glint. “There’s less fat in your cheeks. I’d say you’ve been taking care of yourself, but I’ll bet my poor nainai’s crockpot you’ve been holed up in your store and munching on those half-cooked meals instead. And your skin! If I was any older, I would’ve mistaken it for makeup! I told your father, ancestors preserve him, to open a window to the harbor but no, too expensive he said, and now look at what’s become of his son! Pale as a sheet!” She fingered the lapels of his shirt sticking out from the coat. “That poor shirt! Ài ya, I gave you this for your twenty-eighth birthday, and you’ve treated her as such! The thread’s an inch away from a cat ripping it and the whole shirt off! I’ve half a mind to kick your sorry excuse of a behind out of here!”
‘Ooh, a fiery one!’ Wukong thought with an inner grin. ‘This ought to be amusing.’
If Wukong was expecting his host to fluster at the tailor’s chastisement, he was sorely mistaken. Instead, only a light flush dusted his cheeks and his smile never wavered. “I’ve been doing just fine, Su-jie. It’s just been hard to go outside with all the recent troubles.”
Xiuying scoffed and released his shirt, though Wukong could see her jaw tense. “Bah, there’s always trouble around here; that’s no excuse to not look after yourself. Your father always exercised in the morning, right before he got to business, you should follow his example.” She crossed her arms and sat down on a white stool. “So, what can I help you with?”
“Hmm, about that…” Peizhi quickly glanced at the door and continued with a whisper. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”
The old seamstress quirked an eyebrow.
“I’d rather tell you where people won’t barge in, it’s important.”
She hummed before her brown eyes narrowed in the same direction. She then hopped from her stool and ventured to a space near the counter, and Peizhi followed. They entered a narrow space with boxes stuffed with fabrics to the left and a pull-back black curtain hung by brass rings on a pole to the right.
“Alright, Xiao Peizhi, what’s this all about? Did you finally land a nice girl and are looking for a nice suit for a date?” She quickly shook her head. “Nah, Yamato would’ve told me about it and I would’ve prepared your measurements.”
The shopkeeper almost averted his gaze, but he steeled himself and took a deep breath. “You know how Lung was defeated a couple of days back?”
Xiuying didn’t reply with words; her flattened lips told them everything, ranging from ‘Yes, are you stupid or did your father drop you as a baby?’ to ‘Good riddance to that walking rubbish.’ Wukong had seen many a stare like that in the Court, and this seamstress was proving to be a master of it.
“Well, I’ve…” he tried to form the right words, but only silence escaped his lips. In the end, he sighed and raised his hands. “Do you promise not to freak out?”
“Young man, I’ve kicked the ABB from my store with this slipper,” she gestured to her left foot, where a cream slipper was worn over a woolen sock. “And a needle. Whatever’s going on in that addled head of yours, it won’t be enough to scare me. Why are you involved in that nasty business anyway?”
‘Showtime!’
Peizhi looked hard at her before nodding and gesturing to his shoulder. Xiuying tilted her head as the cicada rose and flew into the space behind her…
…and leaping from a cloud of smoke, vaulted the Monkey King.
“Lao tian!” the seamstress stumbled back until she collided with the boxes behind her, clutching at the wall. Wukong smiled and moved past Peizhi before bowing similarly to her as his host did.
“A most blessed day to you, seamstress!”
Xiuying stared at the monkey with eyes the size of dinner plates. She briefly glared at Peizhi, who actually seemed to be embarrassed this time. She didn’t move for a minute, then shuddered and slowly pulled herself up, her eyes never leaving Wukong’s bowed form.
“Hello…” she said cautiously before directing the glare of a thousand suns at his host. “Peizhi…explain. Now.”
He swallowed and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, a little more than a week ago I…found him in my shop. He said he was a traveler and that he needed a place to stay and I…kind of accepted. He’s been sleeping in my apartment ever since. I didn’t know he was going to do everything he did in the news, I swear!”
Xiuying’s face morphed into incredulity, and she slowly turned to Wukong. “Is this true?” she asked, her voice just as stern and her fingers trembling.
“Pray, spare my dear host your admonishment, noble seamstress. This Old Sun was captivated by Peizhi-xiānshēng’s cooking and found he could not resist! I assure you, whatever exploits you have heard of me, I shall not allow the karma of my actions to harm him.” Wukong replied, still bowing. Taking a good long look at him, Xiuying finally nodded, and the Monkey King stood upright.
“This is Su Xiuying. She’s the tailor for most of the district, other than old Yamato and Tang Fu. My father and I used to buy all our clothes here,” Peizhi said. He gestured to the monkey. “Su-jie, this is Sun Wukong. He’s…you know.” He said nothing else and Wukong agreed. What else could he say that she hadn’t seen and heard?
Xiuying hesitated for a moment before steeling herself. She slowly approached Wukong and looked him right in his red eyes. There was still caution in her gaze, but she raised her hand and cupped the air next to his cheek. Her gaze trailed along his body until she returned to his face. “So, Sun Wukong, you beat the crap out of the big man of the ABB, eh? I have to say, I didn’t think you were an actual monkey. Thought it was a really good costume; I would’ve loved to talk to whoever did the outfit.” She crossed her arms again and took a step back. “Why are you here?”
Wukong dipped his head. “I am in need of your services, good seamstress.”
“My services?” she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.
“My fight with your Lung, while ending in my triumph, has left irreparable scars on my robe,” he replied and gestured at the charred garment. “When I asked where I might procure a new one, Peizhi-xiānshēng extolled your virtues and guided me to your most magnificent store.”
The seamstress squinted. “Guided…you can turn into a bug? I saw you flying from his shoulder.”
“A useful trick I mastered many years ago.” Among many other forms. The swallow came a close second as his favorite.
Xiuying turned to Peizhi with a wordless question, and he shrugged. “That’s pretty much what happened.”
The seamstress nodded and started to pace around the monkey, closely examining his robe, occasionally rubbing it with a well-trained finger. “Silk…camel wool…Qinghai province…good make…” she reached a burn mark and frowned. “Considering who you were fighting, I’m surprised this wasn’t burnt to a total crisp. You say you want to buy a new robe?”
“Yes,” replied Wukong and waved his arm. “Though if you can spare this robe the fate of an ignoble end, I would be most grateful.”
Xiuying stepped back and hummed. “Can’t make any promises regarding this one, the best I can do is patch up the burnt parts. I never made something for a monkey-man, even if your proportions seem more or less like a normal person’s…but what exactly are you looking for?”
“Something similar to this one or the hanfu draped over that doll.”
“Old-fashioned type, eh?” She sighed and glanced at her stocked shelves and at the hanfu. “Well, other than the hanfu I don’t have anything that fits the style. It’s not really meant for everyday wear, I made it as an experiment.” She then returned her gaze to Wukong and touched her chin. “But…I might be able to make you a new robe.”
“A commission then?” Wukong asked and shrugged. “I see no problem with it. How much will it cost?”
“Hmm…a job like this? I’d say around…” she chewed her lip. “One thousand dollars.”
Peizhi squawked at the mention of the price, and Wukong hummed. It didn’t sound cheap.
“I’m guessing you’re not footing the bill, eh?” Xiuying asked his host, who stammered incoherently. “Sorry, but that’s after the discount I’m giving you. Making a robe like that isn’t easy.”
“We were implying no such thing,” replied Wukong. “To craft art, time and dedication are needed, and the works I see here are indeed art.”
She chortled. “Flattery won’t lower the price.”
Peizhi looked back and forth between them in distress, desperately trying to say something to soothe the matter. ‘Such dedication is admirable, my friend, but unwholly necessary at this time.’
Wukong flexed his fingers and reached inside his robe. He fumbled there for a beat before he smiled and pulled out a small pile of the Meiguo paper currency. Xiuying’s and Peizhi’s eyes goggled at the sight of the money and turned as one to Wukong with dumbfounded expressions.
“I trust this will suffice?”
While tentatively at first, Xiuying took the bills from Wukong’s hands. As she rifled through them, Peizhi hissed in his ear. “Where the hell did you get that money?”
“Hm? Oh, a few of the ruffians had them in their pockets. I’d seen people use this paper as payment, so I thought I might liberate some of their spoils for more proper means than ruining helpless lives. A grain of rice from the enemy is worth twenty of yours, after all.”
Peizhi did another impression, this time of a fish flopping on the riverbank, while Xiuying finished counting and bit her lip. Then, she took a few bills and handed them to Wukong.
“I don’t know if that’s illegal…but I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that last bit.” She pocketed the money and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, I’m game. Consider it thanks for knocking that monster down a peg. Just a couple of things to ask. One, are you going to fight in what I make you?”
Wukong paused for a moment and raised his finger, but she quickly cut him off. “Never mind, you parahuman types always end up scrapping with each other. I’m concerned that whatever I make you won’t last very long.”
“Leave that to me,” Wukong replied reassuringly. “I have means to ensure the cloth won’t be damaged easily.” He plucked a hair from his head, blew on it, and handed it to her. “Weave this into the robe and it will grant the garment a measure of protection.”
Xiuying took the hair, an unsure look crossing her face. Seeing her doubt, Wukong bowed again. “I swear by the four cardinal winds I am not deceiving you, wise seamstress!”
“...very well.” She tucked the hair into her pocket but kept looking at him skeptically. “Did you have a design in mind? I like to get a vibe of what my customers want. I won’t put in anything that makes me look bad or stupid, so no tacky logos.”
While he had no idea what kind of emblem would be considered ‘tacky’, Wukong stroked his mane and nodded. “I do have several ideas now that you mention it. I hope they will satisfy your requirements.”
Xiuying nodded and went to her desk, where she pulled out a thick notebook, bursting at the seams. She pulled out from under the desk a pair of glasses, much like the ones young Taylor wore, and placed them upon her nose. “Let’s hear it.”
Wukong hopped over to her, an eager smile on his simian face. “I would like to mention that the final result must have room for my gorgeous tail,” he said and pulled the appendage from behind his robe’s folds. “It can’t stand being suffocated!”
“Ah…you have a tail…” Xiuying dazedly stared at the tail before shaking her head. “Okay, I should’ve expected something weird but…” she stared at his robes - more specifically, where the tail was sticking out. “I think that can work.”
And so Wukong and Xiuying sat down and discussed what his future robe should look like. It took some talking on the monkey’s part, but the unseen tension burdening the seamstress slowly dissipated. She sketched in her notebook and they argued back and forth on designs, and Wukong could feel a semblance of enjoyment rising from her.
“You’ll freeze to death without the right padding and the robe will snag on practically anything that touches it!”
“Pah, rain and cold matter little to me! Though I am amenable to shortening the sleeves, but only by a finger’s length!”
She occasionally pulled out a yellow tape and tied it around him; one time she even strangled his poor tail!
‘“All part of the process,” she says. Have mercy on this poor monkey!’
Eventually, Xiuying told him to feel samples of the fabric he’d like to use. Wukong chuckled as he felt the smooth black silk under his fingers, but kept in mind his claws. Xiuying looked a breath away from slapping his hand.
“You possess fine silk, seamstress Xiuying,” Wukong commented. “Your name must be of high renown if the merchants traverse the ocean to supply you. Such a journey down the Silk Road is not for the faint of heart.”
The woman stared at him as though he was speaking riddles. “...it takes me a month to get a new shipment.”
Wukong’s head jerked up and astonishment filled his features. “A month? Surely you jest!”
Xiuying turned to Peizhi who quickly scrambled from his idle staring, waving his hands. “Wh-what Wukong means to say is that he comes from one of the rural villages in China! They didn’t get much trade there from…you know why.”
No, he did not. Was something amiss? Never mind that; a mere month to acquire silk? How far have these mortals mastered transport, to ferry such expensive wares!?
“...right. That does explain it,” she replied after nodding to Peizhi. She then looked at her notebook and muttered some more before addressing him.
“I was honestly expecting something a little more outrageous but this…this is doable.” She closed the book with a loud slap. “I’ll get started the moment my other two orders are freed up. Xiao-Peizhi, I assume I’ll be contacting you for this?”
“Yeah…Wukong doesn’t have a cellphone.”
“Ah yes, the talking boxes!” Wukong chimed in as he kept feeling the silk. “I have yet to acquire one, but I do not yet see it as pressing an issue as my robe.”
“...talking boxes?” she muttered, then shook her head at Peizhi’s gestures. Why was he pointing at him? “Okay. I’ll let you know when it’s done. Now shoo! I’m a busy woman! Xiao-Peizhi, you should leave that cave of yours and breathe in the fresh air! All that sitting around is making your bones floppy!”
Peizhi rubbed his head again as she waved them off. “Eh, I’ll try to, Su-jie.”
Her comment drew Wukong to the door and he scratched his chin. That was an idea…
“Hmph, we’ll see. As for you…” she pointed at Wukong, faltering for a moment as she scrunched up her face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, getting yourself involved in this mess of a city. The ones who only think they do end up as more pictures on their family’s shrine.”
Wukong gasped with a hand on his chest. “You wound me, dear seamstress! This Old Sun is always a cautious monkey! And if the situation deteriorates, then I am a master at improvising!”
She gave him a stare so flat it would have leveled mountains. Eventually, she sighed and went under the table. “Cosplayers…”
“What is a cosplayer?”
“Ah, nothing! Nothing!” Peizhi exclaimed hurriedly, shooting the desk a withering glare. “I think we should leave, no need to disturb Su-jie while she’s working!”
…fair point. Wukong bowed again, hands clasped before him. “May the spirits bless your hands and craft, Lady Xiuying! I eagerly await your craftsmanship!”
“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” she shouted back. “Now leave!”
Wukong and Peizhi exited the store to an empty street and the shopkeeper sighed in relief. Wukong, for his part, inhaled deeply and smiled at the sunny sky. “A most industrious morning my friend, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Three thousand dollars…” Peizhi nodded, his voice farther than Thunderclap Monastery. Was he taken aback by her wit as he was?
“How well did she know your father, if I may ask?”
“My father…?” Peizhi blinked and cleared his throat. “Oh, quite well. He asked her for help in designing parts of the store. It’s not clothing, but she has a good eye for detail. From then on, he always went clothes shopping at her place. Once I got old enough she became like the family tailor. I haven’t bought anything from her in a while, didn’t see the need.”
“And how did she come to this fair city?”
Peizhi hummed and scrunched his brow in thought. “She was here before baba, but that’s all I know. She knows a lot of the old traditions, so I don’t think she was born here…I haven’t asked.”
“A woman of mystery as well! I thank you for this opportunity, my friend!” Wukong giggled. “But I’ve had my fill of the indoors for now, so I must bid you farewell for the day.”
Before Peizhi could utter another word, Wukong jumped high to the rooftops. He leapt from building to building, humming a nameless tune. This Su Xiuying was quite the snappy speaker! He should endeavor to visit her more often; his host was a kind man, but at times, he seemed too timid. It would be good to sharpen his wit on targets other than bandits. Those were a one-and-done deal, unsuited for verbal sparring.
He surveyed the skyline and enjoyed the sights until he spotted a familiar tree against a small patch of green. Quickly pivoting his random route, he perched on a rooftop overlooking the park and, to his delight, a group of little ones were playing with an orange ball.
Lo and behold, who were those two black-haired cubs scampering through the grass?
‘I keep running into interesting children as of late,’ Wukong thought with amusement, the image of a waif of a girl with frizzy hair flashing before his mind’s eye. ‘Hmm…perhaps a gait of silliness is a welcome change from all this serious business.’ The obvious parents of the group sat idly chatting on a wooden bench, even as they maintained vigil over their children. Wukong hummed in approval; all mothers should watch their cubs before they leave their den, and woe be unto the one who forgets!
‘Maybe a touch of finesse is in order?’ He thought, then nodded to himself. ‘Yes, a very light touch.’
Wukong jumped from the roof and right to the edge of the park. The children stopped their play and turned to him in shock, and from their shared seat, panic started to overcome their parents’ faces -
“Wukong! Wukong!”
The monkey in question grinned at the excited voice of the boy running his way. “Ah, young Thao! What a pleasure to see you here on this glorious day!”
Thao stopped before him and beamed, strands sticking from his combed head. “Did you really fight Lung!? Did your clothes get burned because of him!? Suzaku from school showed me this cool video his brother showed him. There was fire, and you grabbed him and hit him again and again-” The rest was lost amidst a storm of chattering and miming.
“Haha! Calm down, young warrior! You are confusing this Old Sun with your enthusiasm!” Wukong exclaimed joyfully.
“Er-um, sorry?” Thao asked, rubbing his arm as he blushed.
“Oh do not be, I am glad to hear word of my deed has spread!” He glanced at the other three children, who were standing there wide-eyed. “And who might these fine companions of yours be?”
Thao looked behind him and pointed at the girl Wukong had saved not long ago. “That’s my sister Mei, you know her!”
The twin-tailed girl shyly walked up to her brother. “H-hello, Mister Wukong. It’s nice to meet you again.”
Wukong crouched down and dipped his head. “How could I forget such a blossoming flower? May the Celestials strike me down if my memory fails me so shamefully!” Mei giggled at his compliment and turned to the two new children.
“It’s okay, Wukong’s a hero, he saved me,” Mei coaxed them. The first one to step forward was a girl around Mei’s age, if a little older, with long black hair crowned with a pink bow. Her shirt, tucked beneath a black jacket, had the emblem of a white cat with cute little eyes.
“Did you really beat Lung, like everyone’s been saying?” she whispered.
“Indeed I have. For now, the false long shall not trouble you, and your days of playing with each other unmolested are as sure as the rising sun.” Wukong tilted his head at her. “And what might be your name, fair maiden?”
“Um, I have two names,” she replied while playing with her fingers. “My name is Lily, but my family calls me Bǎihé.”
“Two names? Ah yes, one must learn to address their peers properly.” However, he did wonder why the two names were simple translations of each other. Also, she looked too young to have a courtesy name…must be a new custom his mortal countrymen adopted. Oh well.
“What about Oni Lee?” asked the other child, a lad bearing messy black hair and wide eyes. “I heard my dad say no one’s caught him yet, not even the heroes. What if he comes back? I’m Rin, hi. Thao sits next to me at school.”
“The yaksha you name Lee would do well to learn from his master’s defeat, ere this Old Sun give him a good whacking!” He pumped his fist in the air and the children burst into giggles. Flashing a grin at them, Wukong saw the parents on the bench maintain their vigilance and narrowed eyes, but the nervousness they sported moments earlier had slightly abated.
Wukong bowed his head at them while taking a knee. “It warms my stone heart to see a group of fine friends as yours. What game were you playing, if I may ask?”
The group stared at each other before Thao replied. “We played soccer, but then Bǎihé said she was getting tired. We then just kinda passed the ball around until you showed up.”
“Soccer?” Wukong asked, relishing the novelty of a new name. “How does one play?”
“You see those two rocks?” Thao pointed to the twin stones sticking out of the grass. “We have to kick the ball between them while someone tries to block us. My mom calls it football, but -”
“It isn’t football!” Rin whined. “It’s soccer! Suzaku said football is where you run into each other and the ball looks like a nut!”
“But you don’t even kick the ball!” Thao whined. “Why is it football?”
Rin opened his mouth to retort, showing his little canines, but Mei interjected. “Didn’t you argue about this already?”
“Mei told me Mrs. Hamilton made you apologize to the class for being so noisy,” Bǎihé said, a smile flickering across her face. The boys’ faces grew ripe, and the red only further intensified when Wukong chuckled.
“It sounds like an exciting game!” Running into each other sounded much more fun, but he didn’t think the children’s parents would appreciate it if he tried something of that nature. “Can I play?”
They froze and stared at him, confusion and shock alike glowing from their bodies.
“Uh, you wanna play soccer with us?” asked Mei.
“Of course! I love playing games!”
“R-really? Don’t you have…hero stuff…to do?” Bǎihé pointed out.
“I did that yesterday, and I’m sure the fine heroes of this city can cover any stray ruffians that crawl out of their hole. Do these heroes ever play with you children?”
“N-no,” replied Thao. “We had a hero come and talk at school, but he didn’t stay for very long. He was…” The boy’s cheeks puffed up as he tried to recall the name. “He had a red mask, and there was this really funny joke he told us-”
“Assault!” Rin exclaimed. “Yeah, he’s part of the Pro…Protec…Pro-tec-to-rate!”
Wukong humphed with amusement. “Well, unlike them, I always have time to play. How about I will serve as the blocker while you all try to kick it past me?”
The children looked at each other, uncertain of if they should accept. ‘Hm, perhaps my approach wasn’t as delicate as I thought…might I offer food?’ He pondered the matter before his eyes widened. The park of ingenuity was alight once more.
‘Or…a much better, more enticing reward.’
The Monkey King’s grin grew wider and he rose from his kneeling state. “How about this? If you manage to get the ball past me…I will tell you a story!”
They all blinked. “A story?”
“Oh yes, this Old Sun has travelled far and wide, and has seen many mysteries and wonders!” He swept his hand in the air and they all followed it like fish on a line. “Heroes, warriors, great battles and sinister demons…I would be happy to tell you about one of them…if you can win.”
The girls still looked hesitant, but the boys’ fire had kindled. “We’ll win!”
“Hoh hoh, we shall see!” Wukong sauntered to the twin rocks and stood between them with his arms behind his back. His eyes swept over them and gave a light flourish. “Come then! Show this old monkey your skills!”
Taking a deep breath, Thao was the first to try. He kicked the ball at Wukong, who batted it back with his tail, much like he did on the day they met. He moved to the left and kicked again, only to meet the same result. The right? Another bounce.
“Come now, where is that brave warrior I saw?” Wukong asked with a tilt of his head. Thao pouted in frustration and wound himself up for another kick -
“Hey!”
But Mei beat him to it, sending the ball flying…albeit with similar results.
“If you hope to succeed, brute force alone will not avail you, little ones.” Wukong wagged his finger in the air.
Rin took advantage of his speech and made his own attempt -
“Ooh, almost!”
The ball passed to Bǎihé, who gave both it and himself scared faces…and predictably, her kick was weaker than the rest. When he kicked it back, Wukong loudly yawned.
“Is this all? Heed my words! Show me your warrior’s spirit!”
Bǎihé looked at the ball again, and then her eyes widened. Oh hoh, is the wheel beginning to turn?
She pulled back her leg…and passed the ball to Thao. Confusion flashed across his features, and his gaze swapped back and forth between the ball, the girl, and himself before his eyes also grew wide. The ball flew toward Wukong at the same speed, but he pulled his tail so only the tip would strike it and pass it to Rin.
“Ah, thank the Heavens! Were I slower, I would have fallen by your blows!”
The other two children quickly caught on, and from there, the game continued: they would pass between them and kick, and Wukong would block. Sometimes they went straight for the kill, other times they passed it between themselves to try and confuse him. With every ‘near-miss’, their resolve strengthened and Wukong slowed down. The parents had grown fully relaxed, watching their children with amusement and befuddlement. Around them, trickles of people had stopped and were ‘filming’ them with their phones and whispering, yet none dared venture close. The four cubs didn't notice or didn't care, too engrossed in their game.
‘Such enthusiasm! If my monkeys had balls like these, they’d never stop playing!’ He thought. ‘Perhaps it's time these young souls be rewarded.’
After a series of passes and shuffles, Mei struck the ball with all the might in her small leg. It flew right in the path of Wukong’s tail…
…and ricocheted behind him, right past the stones.
…
…
…
“YAY!”
The four children cheered and jumped in the air. Wukong looked behind him and gasped with a hand to his chest.
“How the mighty have fallen! Before such intrepid youths, this Old Sun stood no chance! Oh, ancestors, spare me this shame!”
They giggled loudly at his moans as he knelt on the ground, his head almost touching the dirt. He then reared back and let out a merry laugh.
“What joy! A splendid game from all of you! And yes, I do believe football is a good name.” Thao grinned at Rin, who pouted and kicked at the ground. Wukong snickered at their antics and sat cross-legged. “Such valor like I have witnessed today is worthy of reward! So gather ‘round, and hear this grand tale!”
Thao and Mei appeared to Cloud Step from how fast they sat down while Rin dragged a protesting Bǎihé by the arm. Once they all settled down, Wukong plucked a handful of grass blades and rubbed them between his hands.
“Long ago, in a land where yaoguai, fierce demons, roamed the earth, preying on innocent souls and brave warriors struck them down, there was a village called Changuang. In that village lived a butcher named Wang.”
He blew on the grass and let them dance in the wind, enchanting the cubs.
“Having lost his father when he was a babe, his mother needed a way for her son to grow. He had no father to teach him a craft, and they had no other relatives. So she sent him to apprentice with an older butcher, and over the years Wang honed his craft well, establishing his name throughout the village.”
Thao and Mei nodded along. Rin held back a deluge of questions but Bǎihé’s hand on his shoulder kept the dam closed.
“One day, a wealthy family from a nearby town wished to celebrate their son’s birthday and paid Wang to slaughter pigs and sheep for them. With the strength and precision only years of dedication could grant, Wang helped prepare a meal so sumptuous, the crowd was left drooling long after the food was devoured. As thanks for his work, the head of the family rewarded him with a leg of pork.”
Drool began to spool from Thao and Rin’s lips and the girls made disgusted faces at them.
“He didn’t wish to partake in the leg alone, so Wang set out from the town and back to the village to visit his mother. Along the worn and trodden path he walked, holding the bundled leg tight in his arms. Darkness had fallen over the land and the stars manned their vigils amongst the heavens. The fireflies had begun their evening dance, drifting between the bamboo stalks and kindling the evening with their beautiful glow.” Wukong blew out a gust of air that sparkled in the sun, drawing awed cries from the children.
“Halfway on his route, where the light of the village lanterns bloomed from above the treetops, Wang spotted a young man lying by the roadside, holding a spear. ‘Hello there!’ he called out. ‘Why do you sit by the road as Chang’e shines?’”
Wukong heightened his pitch to form the young man’s reply. “‘Greetings brother! I am a hunter for the village, trappings rabbits by the mountain’s slope. I wish to return, but I fear the ghosts that haunt this road at night. May I accompany you?’”
Bǎihé shivered at the mention of ghosts, while Mei puffed herself up, hiding her fright.
“Wang agreed and they headed off. After a while, the hunter decided to start a conversation. ‘Brother, have you heard? Yaoguai have come to roost in this mountain. The villagers hear their roars and laughter throughout the night.’ Wang laughed. ‘What is there to fear from yaoguai? I have a sharp knife at my waist and a leg of pork in my hand. If any guai comes at me…’” Wukong smacked a fist into his palm. “‘I will smack it with this pork leg and chop it with my knife!’”
Another round of laughter came from the group. Did some of the surrounding people get closer?
“The hunter smiled at Wang’s boastfulness. ‘You must be a skilled warrior if you do not fear those demons.’ Wang laughed again, ‘Warrior? Hardly! I've been slaughtering animals since I was a child. One strike can hit the vital spot, and one chop can break bones and tendons.’ The hunter raised a brow. ‘How can you compare yaoguai to animals?’”
Wukong took a deep breath and his tone grew firm. “Wang turned to the young hunter with iron in his voice. ‘There are no true demons in this world. Those who uphold justice are heroes; those who bully the innocent are simply foul beasts.’ The hunter grew silent and trailed behind Wang, unsure of what to say.”
The children were hooked on his every word, leaning their faces in.
“When they saw the village gates, the hunter asked, ‘Since you show no fear, why don't you turn around?’ As the hunter’s grip on his spear tightened, Wang had realized from that question the truth of this hunter’s nature: he was no man, but a shapeshifting demon!”
Bǎihé and Thao gasped.
“Wang nodded. ‘Would you come forward then, so I might have a better view?’ The hunter did as he was asked, and just as he was within arm’s reach, Wang slammed the pork leg into his face! With a mighty thud, the hunter fell to the ground and Wang raised his knife to strike. At the sight of such sharp steel, the hunter panicked and in a puff of smoke, transformed into a hideous bat guai!”
Wukong mimed the appearance of large ears and bared his fangs. Bǎihé ‘eep’ed and shrunk within herself and Mei and Thao reared back. Only Rin didn’t move from his spot, looking even more excited.
“The bat demon spat to the side in rage over losing such easy prey. ‘Bah, you were a tough one, butcher. Bad luck, bad luck for this azure bat!’ He then sprouted wings and flew into the night sky. Smiling at his courage, Wang sheathed his knife and headed back to the village, where he ate with his mother a delicious leg of pork.”
Rin whooped and punched the air. Wukong smiled and reclined. “Ah, they say the soft persimmons are easier to squeeze, hence it's better to be strong. Stand firm, and even yaoguais will fear you a bit.”
“And thus, my dear friends, this tale ends.”
…
…
…
“That was awesome!” Thao exclaimed, clambering to his feet and jumping like a grasshopper.
“Heh heh, I trust you liked my little chronicle?”
“It was amazing, Mr. Wukong!” said Mei. “It was like…like…” Her poor mind was too awestruck to form words.
“You’re better than Mrs. Simmons at reading class!” Bǎihé said, wonder in her voice. “It’s like I was really there in that village.”
“Why thank you, my dear! Storytelling is an art my monkey friends taught me when I was a young cub like you. It was always fun to share such tales in the great hall of our cave.”
“Can you tell us another one!? With an even scarier demon!?” Rin nearly hollered.
Wukong sighed and stood up. “Alas, I must bid you farewell for today, my little ones. This Old Sun must attend to his personal business.” They all looked dejected and pouting, and Wukong couldn’t help the chortle. “Do not worry! I hope to return soon, and I shall bring with me a story that will amaze you like never before!”
The glow of happiness on their faces could have brightened the underworld. Wukong dipped his head and crouched down. “Farewell, dear children! May your fortune and friendship hold for a thousand lifetimes!”
He leapt into the sky to the sound of goodbyes and whispers of surprise. He bound from roof to roof until the willow tree was no longer visible.
‘That was…my word, has it been that long since I told a proper story? Ah, the sight of joyous children will never cease to satisfy me. In such a district ruled by foul bandits, levity on the streets is bound to be scarce. If a little story can help bring more wonder into their growing lives…’
For the third time today, the spark of inspiration struck the flint of the mind.
‘...hmm. Yes…but…why just one more?’
Comments
Kevin Joseph Tarka
Yeah, yeah, I fully acknowledge American Football is misnamed (blame the British, you'll be surprised by how many "American" standards were caused by the British). But I refuse to believe that Son Wukong wouldn't be enamored by a sport that emulated mock battles.
Massgamer
Wukong really is starting to slowly become a pillar of the community with his actions, since he not only fights bad guys but interacts with people in a positive and real way. Curious to see if his next parahuman interaction will be a peaceful one and how that conversation goes.
HeroOfTime4298
God, I’m really loving this story so far!
OrangePanther01
Lmao... Sun Wukong truly a story teller for the ages. I do wonder though, how Wukong would react seeing an airplane, or a helicopter. Man's heart would burst with joy, seeing that mortals have conquered the sky or something.
