[CCWC Short Story Entry] Under a Cherry Tree
UNDER A CHERRY TREE (1180 words)
The man sat alone under an ancient cherry tree. In his hand, he held a bottle of rice wine - by his side lay a flute, a sheathed sword, and a plate of pickled plums. His long hair, left unfettered, was the colour of charcoal and tumbled down past his carved chest. Unconcern befit the man's light tanned face - a countenance matured by hardships rather than age. The tranquillity of this scene however felt unsettling; as if it were a facade that barely concealed the turbulence within the man's heart.
When Wei Long came across the man, he knew at once who the loner was. After nearly a year of tracking him, Wei Long had finally found the man he was looking for - the man he had sworn to kill.
"I have found you..."
Upon hearing Wei Long’s voice, the loner gave Wei Long a cursory glance. It was a cold gaze - the kind one gives to things of little consequence. But when the loner’s eyes fell upon Wei Long's sword, he let out an amused scoff and turned away.
This infuriated Wei Long.
Wei Long was a master swordsman - hailed as one of the martial geniuses of the post-war generation. And it had not been an honour easily achieved. Nearly his entire life had been spent cultivating his swordsmanship - honing the ancestral techniques of his 'Soaring Dragon’ style whilst hunting the most dangerous creatures and outlaws in all of Ionia.
But never in his life had he been treated with such blatant disrespect. It was only his chivalrous nature that prevented him from retorting with a toxic tongue.
“You are Yasuo, aren’t you? The Unforgiven?”
Upon hearing his name, Yasuo clicked his tongue.
“Maybe I am,” he replied, taking a gulp from his bottle. “Or maybe I’m just a weary wanderer, trying to have a drink in peace. What’s it to you anyway?”
That was all the confirmation Wei Long needed. Thus, as was customary in Ionia, he began to introduce himself.
“I am Wei Long! The Slayer of-"
"Never heard of you," Yasuo belched.
Yasuo took a pickled plum from the plate beside him and sucked on it - wincing at its bitterness like an old man.
Wei Long grit his teeth.
“When an opponent introduces himself, honour dictates that one listen and not interrupt,” said Wei Long.
“Honour huh?” Yasuo chuckled and took another swig of his drink. “My honour left a long time ago.”
This foolish drunk... this was supposed to be the legendary Yasuo? The dangerous traitor feared across all of Ionia? The man rumoured to have blown away an entire battalion of Noxian mercenaries with a single swing of his sword? The wanderer who once decapitated a living mountain with his blade? The swordsman renowned for having once duelled the exalted Master Yi to a standstill?
Wei Long could not help but shake his head in disappointment.
“It appears,” he scowled, “the stories about the legendary Yasuo have been greatly exaggerated.”
“Heh. That’s what I keep telling everybody,” Yasuo grinned. “But nobody seems to listen.”
The loner before Wei Long began to shake the last few drops of wine from the bottle whilst scratching his belly like some lice-ridden vagrant.
Wei Long sighed in dejection.
He had come seeking Yasuo with hopes of finding an honourable fight – one that would inspire songs and tales that would survive the passage of time. But with an opponent like this... what honour was there to be had?
Wei Long steeled himself.
Unworthy though this encounter may be, it did not change the fact that Yasuo was a criminal. And honour demanded that the righteous let no crime go unpunished.
"I am Wei Long," he reintroduced himself, "the slayer of the Five-Headed Qilin, the keeper of the Soaring Dragon, and the Hero of Dao Country. And I, as honour demands, beseech you surrender to my authority. If you resist, I shall be forced to cross my blade with yours. Either way, I, Wei Long, shall see to it that you atone for your crimes."
"You’re noisy," Yasuo groaned and waved his hand dismissively. "Go bother someone else. I don't have time to play with you. Shoo!"
An angry vein pulsed on Wei Long’s temple. With a series of elegant circular movements, he freed his changdao from its sheath.
“It appears words are wasted on a cur like you!” he yelled. “I am forced to let my sword be the vessel of justice!”
“Justice?” Yasuo smirked. “That’s a pretty word.”
A wayward breeze rustled the leaves of the cherry tree as Yasuo reached for his sword. His eyes were no longer unfocused and his drunken composure had completely vanished. Tossing aside the empty wine bottle in his hand, Yasuo stood up.
“You’re not the first to find me and spew platitudes about honour and justice,” Yasuo scoffed. “And here I still am. What does that tell you?”
A sudden wave of terror washed over Wei Long. The hairs on his body stood on end and cold sweat dampened his back. His spine tingled in agitation and his heart thundered inside his chest. It was as if the primal instinct in his body were warning him of a catastrophic danger and begging him to flee.
"Now you can either become another cobblestone on the path of corpses I have left behind," Yasuo growled. "Or you can walk away and forget you ever met me. The choice is yours, friend."
The air around Yasuo was rife with bloodlust and hostility. Something had changed inside the wanderer – and the change terrified Wei Long. It felt as if Wei Long were facing an opponent that should never be challenged – an unimaginable entity he could not hope to defeat even in his wildest dreams. He knew now that all those unbelievable tales he had heard of Yasuo were completely true.
However, Wei Long, to his ill fortune, was a chivalrous man. He knew that if he chose to run away, his dishonourable act would haunt him forever. He would be unable to live with such shame.
Thus, with a trembling heart, Wei Long steeled his resolve and charged.
A sad smile crept up on Yasuo's face as his hand fell upon the haft of his sword.
"At peace with yourself?" he asked. "You will be."
Yasuo observed his handiwork.
It was a crude grave beneath an ancient cherry tree - a burial mound of rocks with a broken blade for a marker. But this was still better than being left an orphan corpse, out in the open for scavengers to feast upon. This was mercy. Besides, the view was not entirely unpleasant.
Yasuo dusted the dirt off his hands and wiped the blood off his face with a wet piece of cloth. It had been self-defence - it was justified. And yet, it all weighed upon his conscience.
"Fool," Yasuo muttered.
To whom this word was directed, even he did not know. With a sigh, Yasuo reached for his sword.
It felt heavier than it did before.
AFTERWORD
If you are reading this, then I shall assume you have already read the story above - for which I thank you.
I only came across this competition a few days ago and, seeing that it was not barred based on regions, I decided I'd try my luck too c:
The writing is fairly experimental. I have been reading a fair bit of modern wuxia/xianxia novels (most of them were rather underwhelming though) and decided to write something along that vein xD I think I have stretched the prompt of 'legends' a bit and I also cut in quite close to the word count limit of 1250 words but hopefully I will not get disqualified Q.Q It was a rather fun experience writing the story and I hope you, the reader, have enjoyed reading it as well ^.^
Glhf out there c:
