The Golden Apple Valley was rich and lush with life. What space wasn't cleared for fields and roads was covered with forest, sheltered among the hills and mountains. The merchant town settled at its heart where road and river met was an awkward size - too big for a village, but with only a small standing population. The rest of the people in its streets were visiting farmers from around the valley or travelling merchants in the inns.

  A large man only slightly shorter than the roof of his forge laboured through heat far too intense for the beginning of summer. Instead of staying inside he'd retreated to the covered work area where he at least had a chance of a breeze.

  The bright sun overhead hammered down on the small town like the blows of his hammer, but few people were foolish enough to work in this heat. Instead the dusty roads that were the trading town's lifeblood had shop workers filling every inch of shade available from their stall's awnings.

  As such the covered work area of the blacksmith's forge and the awnings of the teashop across the street were immensely popular. Thankfully Xiong did not need much heat for making nails - partially why he had chosen this task for today - and while he did insist on the children keeping a safe distance from him, he also enjoyed having an audience to tell stories to while dealing with the monotony of the task.

  He swung his long tied back locs over his shoulder again as he went to put the metal rods back in the fire and noticed some of the teashop visitors look disappointed. Ha. They might have been over two wagon widths away, but it seemed the adults were just as interested in the stories as the kids.

  One man among the patrons in particular was a stranger, a monk in saffron robes with a strange three sectioned staff he had never seen the like of before. Xiong was already planning to talk to him once the story was over and ask if he could examine how it was put together.

  For now the monk seemed inclined to listen. Xiong privately agreed; telling stories to an eager audience was a wonderful way to pass the time while crafting the seemingly endless number of nails even a town this size required.

  "...But then, when all seemed lost, with the armies scattered and isolated across the battlefield, the great Generals Shenmi Sheng and Shenmi Sun-Li charged into the centre of the battle! Their bright armour and silk pennants were the very symbol that the soldiers needed to see where to rally around!" He said dramatically, the stories his mother had told painting themselves across his mind's eye as he swung, "The scattered units ran across the bridges with the speed of the Tiger Rajah! Leapt the canyons with the grace of the Golden Phoenix! Used their strength to fight and shove through the Huns, all in order to reach their beloved Generals!"

  A stranger approached slowly along the road, straw hat shielding their short body and face from the sun. Not that it looked like the battered armour they wore would reflect much of the sunlight anyway, ancient, covered in a thousand dents and significantly adjusted to accommodate his girth. The armour might once have been the dark red of the Imperial Dragon Blades, but it was nothing like the bright, shining brilliance of the generals in Xiong’s story.

  "General Shenmi Sheng, known to the huns as the Fox for his red armour and extreme cunning, had known their people would come to them and made room! He used the speed and subtlety of the Eagle Claw Style to do a trip here, a push there, picking off the ones near the edge to fall into the canyons to their deaths! His wife, General Shenmi Sun-Li earned the name 'the Scythe', for with each sweep of her spear a swathe of Huns fell!"

  He paused, looking at his young guests, "Do you know what the strength of the Singing Sword Style is? And why it is taught to every Imperial soldier?"

  The monk grinned, clearly knowing the answer but ready to supply it if the children didn't. A girl with scruffy black hair in front of Xiong immediately shouted, "I know! It's the way that they all move as one!"

  The monk grinned in delight and the blacksmith beamed with pride, "Well done! And so each sweep of Sun-Li's blade was magnified a thousand times by each soldier alongside her! Each soldier both gained and gave her strength! With that power they made short work of the Huns-" Xiong's voice dipped dramatically, eyes sweeping across the small children like co-conspirators, "- and they aimed for the heart of the enemy forces where the Khan, the leader of all the Huns who had attacked the Wall, waited for them."

  The old traveller eased himself into one of the free chairs outside the tea shop, lifting his hat briefly to wipe the sweat from his forehead to reveal a neat white topknot stark against dark skin, though he quickly replaced it to shield against the sun. Xiong kept a wary eye on the man as he continued his story, half an ear on the stranger's conversation as the proprietor of the teashop pottered out and gave him a deep bow.

  “It's been a while since we had a traveller stop by, but now we get two in one lunchtime! Let me find you a cup.”

  The old man returned the bow, “Really? And this seems such a good spot for business, especially with such grand tales being spun for an audience.”

  “Oh, you'd think so. But the Golden Apple Valley's been unpopular with the merchants, especially since that nasty business with the ogres.” She poured a cup of tea and the scent of jasmine wafted up.

  “These things happen. But the memories of merchants are short, especially if forgetting leads to more opportunities for gold.” He took a long sniff of the tea and sighed in pleasure.

  “You seem like a man with a long... memory, though. Care to share with a poor old lady?” She cackled at her own joke. The old traveller smiled indulgently in response.

  “I have been away from civilisation far too long. The smell of jasmine tea and the chance to share memories with a beautiful silk rose such as yourself... now I can truly believe I am home.” He looked over at Xiong, "Though I see that the stories - making war seem far more honourable and glorious than it is in person - have not changed either."

  That stung. Xiong reached the end of his sentence and lifted his head, dark eyes meeting the stranger's in a blaze of challenge across the dusty road. "Honoured Elder, I would hate to imagine that I heard such a disparaging comment about the heroes of the Empire who died to defend our peace."

  The children, who both knew and understood what that icily polite tone of voice from the blacksmith meant, scattered out of the way, leaving a clear space between him and the stranger. The monk scooted away from the old man a little, but was watching with wary curiosity.

  The old man himself seemed unbothered, sipping his tea with the attitude of someone who had seen everything. "I mean no offence to the people in your story, but such tales are always embellished to make war seem more glorious than it is. They tend not to include the blood and despair actually found on the battlefield when your precious comrades are slaughtered around you."

  The old man may not have been wrong, there were ten thousand people who did do that, ten thousand more merchants who exaggerated or mocked purely to drive up the cost of their own product. But the insinuation that the person who told him this story was as honourless as them was enough to make Xiong want to snarl and snap-

  The silence was broken by the girl with messy hair, "Ooh, bad move, mister. Everyone knows you don't insult mister Xiong's family."

  "Yeah, he always says insults to family aren't to be borne." Another kid chimed in.

  Right. There were children here. He shouldn't scare them by using the full fury of the Mother Bear. He kept his voice quiet enough to be threatening rather than enraged but didn't bother to keep his voice from going low enough to growl, "The one who told me that story was my mother, Shenmi Sun-Li, daughter of Generals Shenmi Sheng and Shenmi Sun-Li. You will take back your insult to my family, for I would hate to break one of Madam Bei Bei's cups in correcting you."

  The stranger's grip on the cup fumbled and he hastily placed it out of the way of any violence. The old man then offered a deep bow, "My apologies, honoured blacksmith, I meant no offence to your family. I am simply an old jaded soldier who is too used to the petty evil of politicians turning my grief into power." His head bowed further, "Trust me that I would never say a word against General Sun-Li or her daughter. She was the one who trained me, and she cracked me round the back of the head enough with her spear in training that I don't want to receive it again in the Heavens."

  Stolen story; please report.

  The monk swiftly spoke up to try and diffuse the situation, "You were in the Army, honoured elder?"

  The old man's eyes lowered, "Indeed I was, though it was many years ago now."

  "You knew General Sun-Li?" Xiong said, his anger fading to curiosity, but not enough to fully drop his resentment over the previous insult.

  The old man smiled with a deeply fond expression, "As I said, she was the one who trained me. A beautiful but truly formidable woman in both strategy and battle, no matter what the stories would have you think. Many of the great plans were created between the Generals rather than by General Shenmi Sheng alone. She deserves far more credit than she commonly gets."

  The monk's eyes lit up, "Fascinating! I would love to hear more. My name is Ten Laughing Jackals and my order is very interested in collecting knowledge. A historical account of the war from someone who knew the Generals personally would be invaluable as an insight into the campaign."

  “Knowledge that is far away in both distance or time always appears more enlightened than knowledge found at home,” the old man replied amiably, “yet is not the greatest wisdom often to be found in those who have trod the same path?”

  “Each path offers a new perspective - another path to see the shape of Truth. This is the teaching of Szi Tso.” the monk explained, “My order are-”

  He was interrupted by a deafening explosion from the northwest, loud enough to make the teacups jump. Xiong felt his heart sink. That came from the Slumbering Mountain, his Master's domain. The old traveller’s hand flashed out to catch both the monk's and his own cup as the blacksmith gave a start and leapt to catch a metal shod staff leaning against the wall of the forge, running out of the shelter of his forge with a speed surprising for his size.

  “Watch the forge and the little ones for me, Bei Bei!” the blacksmith called to the tea shop lady. The monk leapt up as well, grabbing his own three-sectioned staff and following the blacksmith.

  —

  When they reached the clear top of the hill the bare rock gave way to a wide, shallow crater. If any visitors came this far the hill's true nature would immediately be revealed by the perfectly circular lake of lava in the exact centre making the air shimmer with heat.

  Xiong's eyes swept around the crater for whatever had caused the impact and found that the wide rocky ‘shore’ around the lake had a second smaller crater where a shining rock sat at the centre, the metal glinting like a star.

  That was a problem. The smaller crater had ruined the beautiful symmetry of the area. Slumbering Mountain was not going to be pleased with this. Which means that as their champion it is going to be my task to fix it. Wonderful.

  He doubted he would be able to fix it before Slumbering Mountain noticed - Xiong wasn't that good with the Crimson Earth Style yet - but maybe they would accept the starmetal as a gift to appease them? Perhaps if he could phrase it as a gift for their boss? The Ruby Dragon was the Master of the Forge so he would love an interesting metal to work with...

  The monk looked up at the sky in wonderment to try and pinpoint where it fell from. Meanwhile the blacksmith knelt next to it and peered at the metal, placing his staff on the floor next to him so that he could use his fingers to test the surface. The star was beautiful, melted to a smooth finish by a heat even greater than the heart of the volcano they stood on. “Aya. What I could make using that… At least it did not hit the village.”

  “An auspicious event indeed.” The old man commented, and Xiong had to pause to wonder how the old man had got there only just after Xiong and the monk, given they had run as opposed to the old man's apparent casual stroll. When he glanced up he saw that the true situation was even stranger. The old man was still carrying the tea cup, sipping from it as casually as if he were back in the village.

  There was a crack of thunder in reply and a figure with shining golden-brown hair appeared on the opposite lip of the impact crater. “Auspicious? My star has fallen from the Heavens!” The spirit was clearly wearing the padded robes that should have gone under armour, but there was no armour to be seen.

  Xiong bowed low in respect, trying to work out why it felt like the new arrival was missing something even more fundamental than armour, and his hair shifted in a sudden gust of wind. When he looked up the spirit was suddenly directly in front of them and the blacksmith quickly took in golden eyes with pinpoint pupils like an eagle.

  The blacksmith maintained his bow, “Greetings noble spirit.”

  “Do you know whose fault this is?” The spirit demanded, plucking an arrow from the rock and brandishing it in their faces, “Some fool shot this into the sky and struck my star, and now see what has happened!”

  The old soldier stroked his beard and approached, examining the arrow closely, “Hmmmm. If I am not mistaken that arrow is of Hun manufacture. You see you can tell by the way they twist the thonging…”

  “The Huns? I should have known.” The spirit muttered darkly.

  The old soldier shook his head, “So quick to leap to conclusions. A man can fire an arrow made by another man.”

  “And yet who else seeks to bring down the Heavens? They are the ones that benefit most from my absence.” The spirit sat dejectedly on the rock and the blacksmith sighed.

  The old man kept talking as if the spirit was just another young one, “Now, there is no need to be upset. Come and have some tea, and we'll talk about how to solve your problem.”

  There was a whisper of wind, and the god stood back at the lip of the impact crater, “But what of my star?”

  Xiong’s eyes flicked to the star, “Well, at least it didn't land on the village.”

  The old man smiled widely, as charming as any performer and Xiong was suddenly wary of just how much this old man was hiding from them. “But since it did not, perhaps one of you fine gentlemen will watch it for him?”

  “It's not that,” the spirit replied, “it needs to be put back into the Heavens.”

  “Hmm…” The old soldier sipped his tea and looked up, “Where should it be?”

  The eagle-eyed spirit pointed into the sky, just past the constellation of the River, then looked slyly sideways at the three men, particularly at the blacksmith playing absent-mindedly with a loc that had escaped the tie, “Say, you look like you're strong, I don't suppose…”

  The old man shook his head, and patted his large belly, “I was strong once, but then I decided I would rather be happy and warm.”

  Xiong on the other hand straightened and subconsciously flexed his biceps as he crossed his arms, The god almost certainly wasn't going to like this, but Xiong would be expected to back his Master's interests first and foremost. “I may be strong, but I am not that strong. You could petition the lord of this valley to assist you, but I regret to inform you that he may not be best impressed." Xiong indicated the impact crater around the star, "I am afraid that he will probably take this as a great insult and want reparations, but he may look favourably upon you if all you want to do is leave.”

  “What?” The old man turned to Xiong in surprised disbelief, “Is this the treatment spirits can expect from the folk of Jianghu these days? Have I really been away so long that proper respect has been forgotten?”

  Xiong bowed to the old man, “I mean no disrespect, honoured elder. I merely state a fact. Witness for yourself this perfectly circular crater and lake, do you think it became so by chance? While I appreciate that it may have been no fault of the star's that he fell, this crater has marred the landscape of my Master the Slumbering Mountain, Bear God of the Golden Apple Valley, and amends must be met.”

  The old soldier raised an eyebrow at Xiong, then looked pointedly at the God. Xiong promptly gave a small bow to the spirit, “I apologise noble spirit, if my words brought offence, I was merely trying to represent the concerns of my Master.”

  The orange robed monk raised an eyebrow of their own, “Ah, so you are the Champion of the Golden Apple Valley that has been talked of.”

  Xiong lowered his head in deference, “I protect all who need it. The people of this valley are nearly the family that I no longer have… but not quite.”

  “Strange how history repeats itself.” the soldier mused under his breath.

  “Your duty to your Master does you credit and your warning noted." the spirit replied, "Be that as it may, I cannot stay here. Will you not help me bring my star to your lord so I can ask his aid?”

  Xiong brought his hands together, one fist curled, the other curled around it, and bowed to the spirit. “It would be my honour.” He turned to look at the old man and the orange-robed monk, “Revered Elder, Wise Monk, if you wish to accompany me, I would be honoured to show you the forge within the mountain.”

  “I would- look out!” the former soldier called, moving faster than an old man should have been able to, snatching an arrow from the air that had been headed for Xiong.

  A group of Hun archers flowed over the crater ridge, nimble ponies guided only by taps of their feet as their hands were occupied with the bows trained on their targets.

  With how they wove in and out of each other it was difficult to tell how many there were. Xiong's eyes flicked between them, rapidly calculating his odds and the best way of dealing with them. Somewhere between eight and ten, certainly too many for four to easily deal with.

  Xiong cracked his neck, then his knuckles before taking the Mother Bear Stance and roared a challenge, "You trespass on land sacred to my master, Slumbering Mountain! Turn back now or face your death!"

  The Huns continued to charge.

  patreon which is three chapters ahead along with the side content mentioned above.