Chapter 63: After the Storm
Dawn painted the village in watercolors that ran together at the edges, as if the flood had taught even light to flow more gently across familiar surfaces.
Xiaolong stood beside the eastern barrier, watching Lord Cascade reshape the damaged stonework with the casual authority of water given conscious purpose. The waterfall spirit had relocated a portion of his essence to the village permanently, ensuring future flooding would meet with swift, spiritual intervention.
"Much better than static barriers," the spirit rumbled, his voice creating musical harmonies as water flowed through carefully carved channels. "Water responds to changing conditions. Stone merely endures until it breaks."
The villagers had gathered to observe this unprecedented renovation. Wong crouched beside newly formed pools, his earth affinity detecting how the spirit's modifications redirected potential threats. He grumbled softly to himself, sounding more like a worried elder than an embittered rival.
Mother Deep-Current's influence spread through underground networks that had transformed waterlogged soil into rich farmland. Her river essence permeated drainage systems that would prevent future flooding while enriching crop yields. Where standing water had threatened to ruin harvest fields, now fertile channels promised abundant growth.
Farmer Wong could hardly criticize such generosity. With a final grunt, he stood upright and gave a stiff bow in acknowledgment of the profound improvement.
"This is... adequate," he said. "This community offers you its thanks. May your waters ever flow pure."
Mother Deep-Current rippled beneath the surface, conveying amusement.
"Gratitude accepted," the river spirit said. "Let my nature serve as shield and sustenance."
The Laughing Rapids had discovered an entirely different calling.
"Look-what-I-learned-from-the-small-humans!" the stream spirit sang, its form dancing through a series of fountains that had spontaneously appeared throughout the village. Each fountain played a different melody, water droplets creating harmonies that delighted children and adults alike.
"Entertainment cultivation," Elder Duan pronounced, watching the display with amusement rather than alarm. "Who would have thought water spirits possessed such playful instincts?"
"Certainly not I," Li Feng agreed. He stood beside Xiaolong, his attention divided between the unfolding spectacle and the quiet dragon watching events with sharp eyes. "Every day reveals new wonders."
She leaned against him briefly, a touch that reassured without demanding acknowledgment.
Li Feng had endured minor injuries from physical exertion and meridian strain, but he showed no further sign of Resonance Disharmony, nor did he complain about fatigue or discomfort. His inner natures remained harmonized, reinforcing newfound confidence in his own capabilities.
He bowed to each of the spirits as they completed their contributions. In return, they offered gratitude to him in whatever manner suited their nature.
Grandmother Willow-Stream materialized above her restored shrine, her slender form draped in gossamer robes that echoed rippling water patterns. She regarded Li Feng with gentle fondness, an old spirit pleased by the attentiveness of the young.
"Young protector," she addressed Li Feng, "your leadership has created something remarkable. Human-spirit cooperation typically remains temporary convenience rather than lasting partnership."
"Temporary arrangements serve immediate needs," Li Feng replied diplomatically. "Lasting partnerships serve ongoing prosperity."
The local guardian's laughter sounded like water running over smooth stones. "Spoken like someone who understands that relationships require maintenance more than formal agreements."
"Agreements cannot replace trust." Li Feng's hand brushed Xiaolong's, though he offered no other acknowledgement of her presence. "Distrust destroys partnerships regardless of their initial foundation."
He met her gaze then, a look tinged with emotional shades she hadn't felt from him before. There was appreciation, of course, and camaraderie that came from shared purpose. But there was also a quiet intensity suggesting something more profound than gratitude.
She returned his look with equal depth. They had much to discuss beyond these immediate concerns. Perhaps on their continuing journey, when distance erased details that clouded new understanding.
Grandmother Willow-Stream spirit regarded Li Feng carefully. Then she inclined her head ever so slightly in acknowledgement and turned her attention toward Xiaolong.
"Be well, Xiaolong," she said. "This spirit shall remember your presence as long as rivers run to the sea."
"Be well, elder spirit," Xiaolong replied. "Though many rivers run to many seas, I shall remember your kindness."
The spirit offered a small laugh before dissolving into vapor that dissipated in dawn's gentle breeze.
Midday brought summons that Xiaolong had been both expecting and dreading.
"Come help with lunch preparation," Lan Hua called from the family garden, where she wielded a formidable blade against defenseless vegetables. "Li Feng is helping repair homes. You can help here. Those hands of yours are too clean—honest work will improve them."
Xiaolong approached cautiously, her dragon heritage providing no guidance for navigating maternal expectations regarding domestic labor. Lan Hua stood among vegetables that had survived the flood through careful cultivation and strategic positioning, her attention focused on selecting ingredients for the midday meal.
"Sit," Lan Hua commanded, gesturing toward a wooden stool positioned beside a washing basin.
Xiaolong obeyed. She settled onto the stool and waited while Li Feng's mother selected suitable produce, placing each item into a round basket with expert care. The woman's movements bespoke a lifetime of repetition, her hands moving with familiarity that required minimal conscious direction.
"There," Lan Hua said, setting a second basket of unwashed produce beside the washing basin. She retrieved a third empty basket and placed it beside the second. "Wash first, then chop."
She handed Xiaolong a small paring knife and returned to her own work.
Xiaolong examined the basket's contents. Dozens of small green vegetables clustered together, each dotted with bulbous growths on pale stalks. Small white globes quivered as she moved them.
"Bok choy," Lan Hua prompted without looking at her. "Soft white stalk, dark green leaf. Separate. Then chop."
She returned to her own cutting board.
Xiaolong imitated Lan Hua's movement, mimicking how Li Feng's mother gripped the paring knife and positioned her fingers around each bok choy. She imitated how the woman deftly separated green leaves from pale stalks, neatly prepared each component for cooking. She struggled at first—dragons did not prepare raw food with human utensils often—but gradually grew more comfortable.
Lan Hua finished her current task and peered over Xiaolong's shoulder. She made small hums of approval and offered occasional verbal corrections, adjusting Xiaolong's grip or reminding her which parts of the vegetable needed further preparation.
As Xiaolong improved, Lan Hua spoke again.
"You are staying with my Li Feng?"
The question carried subtle nuances that Xiaolong identified as maternal concern. Yet her tone held no hostility. Only curiosity mixed with guarded hopefulness.
"Wherever our paths lead, we walk them together."
"Hm." Lan Hua placed chopped vegetables into her basket. "Many women want to be beside Li Feng. He is a good prospect for marriage. But only one can be his wife."
Xiaolong washed another bunch of bok choy, her hands steady though her inner self regarded this conversation as the precursor to a potentially more complex challenge than a cosmic contest with the Jade Serpent.
"Our arrangement is one of equals, not possessive traditions."
Lan Hua looked up from her knife with keen appraisal.
"No talk of marriage?"
Xiaolong's emotions roiled. The prismatic nature of her identity afforded a broader perspective than any singular cultural tradition allowed. Dragons did not marry like humans, but neither did they remain forever solitary. Those who formed pair-bonds sometimes stayed together for millennia. Others had multiple mates across ages.
She had no instinctive response, nor did she grasp what Li Feng might wish for himself, beyond what she knew of his desire to serve humankind.
"The concept is... unfamiliar," she said.
Lan Hua snorted softly.
"Familiar or not, marriage matters. Families matter. Obligations matter. Li Feng knows this."
Stolen story; please report.
"I recognize his commitments."
"But do you share them?"
Xiaolong exhaled. Explaining draconic traditions to a mortal was challenging enough. Trying to reconcile them with a mother's hope that her son would find happiness within his own cultural moorings—that defied fathomable possibility. Lan Hua was not someone she wished to deceive, yet she had no ready responses that would satisfy the woman's expectations.
Finally, Xiaolong replied.
"My nature is... complicated. I know I wish for his happiness. To what extent I can contribute, I am uncertain."
Lan Hua gave a satisfied grunt. Apparently this answer proved adequate to satisfy some unspoken criterion.
"He has grown stronger with you at his side. More determined." She glanced at Xiaolong thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is something there."
They worked together quietly until all the vegetables lay prepared before them.
Lan Hua cleared away baskets, and Xiaolong rose to assist. Together, they carried ingredients inside, where a pot of boiling water waited on the hearth. Xiaolong followed Lan Hua's example as they immersed ingredients in the pot, timing each addition to ensure peak freshness. As food cooked, the two women stirred in seasonings, tasting repeatedly until flavors harmonized.
"You're too thin," Lan Hua observed, giving Xiaolong's body a thorough appraisal. "And you don't dress warmly enough for someone who spends time outdoors."
The accusation struck Xiaolong as absurd. Her human form had been crafted to represent aesthetic ideals consistent with local human custom. But she sensed no offense was intended.
"Your son mentioned similar concerns," Xiaolong said diplomatically.
"My son has good instincts about taking care of people he values," Lan Hua replied, heading over to a wooden chest. "Fortunately, his mother has good instincts about taking care of the ones he cares about."
She returned with a garment folded over her arm. She shook it out and held it before herself, displaying its details for Xiaolong's appraisal.
The over-robe was cut in a simple peasant's style. However, close inspection revealed fine embroidery worked into silk panels that glowed with soft radiance despite the garment's humble nature. Lan Hua had poured considerable care into its construction.
"I cannot accept such valuable—"
"Nonsense," Lan Hua interrupted. "Family looks after family."
Xiaolong didn't challenge the woman's statement, despite her uncertainty whether Li Feng would reciprocate his mother's sense of attachment in matters of family and prospects of marriage.
Lan Hua held out the robe until Xiaolong reluctantly accepted it. Then the woman gave a satisfied nod.
"Wear it for dinner," Lan Hua instructed. "I'll have more suitable clothes ready before you and my son leave. I don't intend for you to catch cold or suffer mockery from other women in your circle. My daughter-by-marriage deserves respect."
Unsure how to respond, Xiaolong bowed deeply, appreciating the gesture regardless of whether she eventually fulfilled its unspoken promise.
Li Jian found Xiaolong later that afternoon, sitting beside the repaired docks where his fishing boat rode newly calm waters. The fisherman's approach carried none of his wife's bustling energy—he moved with the measured pace of someone accustomed to patient observation.
"Mind some company?" he asked, settling onto the dock without waiting for permission. "Boats won't need checking for another hour, and I've been wanting to talk."
Xiaolong nodded, curious about what conversation Li Feng's father considered important enough to seek deliberately.
Li Jian pulled a small knife from his belt and began carving patterns into a piece of driftwood, his weathered hands confident around the blade despite stiff joints and bent fingers.
"My wife," he began, "is a woman who understands relationships."
"I noticed," Xiaolong replied.
His knife carved away wood, turning irregular edges into ordered segments. "Li Feng has always put others' needs before his own. Makes him a good man, a dependable son, and a good leader for these people."
Xiaolong remained quiet. She could sense what lay beneath this man's observations. No words were needed yet.
"My boy carries responsibilities like stones. He piles them into his pocket and doesn't notice the extra weight." Li Jian gave a rueful smile. "Or he pretends not to."
The knife shaped the wood with deft strokes. Shapes emerged from rough cuts, a face taking form in pale lines.
"Some stones are heavier than others," Li Jian continued. He didn't look at Xiaolong, his attention focused on his work. "Carrying them can cost a man's spirit. I've seen it happen in those who have no reason to get up in the mornings." He paused, gave his carving a keen appraisal, then resumed. "Or no one to come home to at night."
Xiaolong watched his knife as it whittled away roughness, leaving behind elegance. Human craftsmanship still puzzled her. Dragons made art by reshaping their surroundings to suit their own sensibilities. They did not elevate mundane materials through transformation.
"You think I can lift those stones?"
Li Jian shook his head. "No, honored cultivator. I think you already have."
He offered her the carving.
She accepted it carefully, turning it slowly to admire how Li Jian had captured her profile in delicate curves and flowing lines.
"My Li Feng's affections may be plain to anyone who cares to notice," Li Jian said. "Yours are more elusive. But my boy needs someone to see his worth beyond duty to others. A woman strong enough to challenge his sense of obligation, yet compassionate enough to share his burdens." He smiled quietly. "I know how heavy those stones can be. It's good to have someone willing to carry a few of them beside you."
Xiaolong ran her fingers over the wooden profile. Her touch was gentle, barely brushing its surface.
"Li Feng is dear to me," she said.
Li Jian watched her with searching eyes.
"I don't ask for more from you than that." Li Jian reached out and patted her hand. "Your presence alone has lightened his load, let him rediscover what lies beyond obligation." He gave her a crooked smile. "Lan Hua will have all sorts of expectations when she sees this bond between you two. Expect her to make her opinions known, despite how little bearing they'll have on whatever path you choose."
Xiaolong's smile offered no reassurance. "Mothers, it seems, are consistent regardless of which river valley one visits."
"Mothers with strong-willed sons, anyway." Li Jian laughed.
Their conversation lasted while Li Jian's boat bobbed beside them. They spoke of Li Feng's accomplishments and the burdens his sense of duty demanded he carry. By the time Li Feng arrived, the two were locked in conversation, sharing anecdotes from across his years.
Xiaolong enjoyed these stories more than she let show. She admired how Li Jian wove tales that honored his son's growth without dwelling overlong on personal details. By their conclusion, she knew more about this place and this family than hours of solitary observation could have taught.
"Are you two well?" Li Feng asked, settling himself beside Xiaolong.
She gave him a warm smile, then lifted Li Jian's carving for his inspection.
"We're getting along fine," Li Jian reassured his son. "Xiaolong here is a fine listener. She appreciates good stories."
"Even outrageous ones that contradict well-established facts?" Li Feng asked, examining the wooden profile. He offered Xiaolong a wry smile. "Father is known to stretch the truth for dramatic effect."
"All storytellers should be so honest in their dishonesty." Her hand rested lightly atop Li Jian's. "I do not begrudge him his creativity."
Li Jian's laughter was loud and unrestrained. "I like this one. Strong in convictions and wit both."
Li Feng looked between his father and Xiaolong.
"Why do I suspect some conspiracy lurks beneath all this warmth?"
"Because you're a suspicious man." Li Jian chuckled. "You're also overdue for a haircut. That fringe is getting ragged." He made a scissoring motion with two fingers. "Unless you're trying to hide behind those locks, I can fix that."
Li Feng lifted one hand self-consciously. "It is getting a bit long."
Li Jian clapped his son on the back. "Too right. We'll fix that before we head in for dinner."
He patted Xiaolong's hand before standing.
"I'll go sharpen my shears. Join me when you're ready. And bring soap."
He strode off toward his house, leaving the two on the dock.
Xiaolong observed how sunlight caressed Li Feng's dark hair, how it shone in subtle shades of blue and deepest brown, rich with color despite its apparent uniformity. She leaned closer, her fingers tracing the elegant shape of his ear where it emerged beneath heavy strands.
"It seems a shame to cut such fine lines," she said. "Why should he diminish what is beautiful?"
Li Feng gave a rueful smile.
"Habit and efficiency. Shorter hair dries quickly, sheds water easily. For a man who swims as often as I once did, keeping it short seemed wise."
She traced his ear again before pulling away.
"And now?"
His hand intercepted hers. His thumb smoothed over her knuckles, gentle and certain.
"Now," he replied, "it seems a minor indulgence to allow nature its expression."
They exchanged looks rich with warmth, neither inclined to draw away until obligation called Li Jian's way.
That evening's meal was a multi-course affair that Xiaolong and Lan Hua had spent most of the day preparing. Vegetable soup with rice noodles, three types of dumplings filled with various meats and vegetables, hot and sour eggplant, steamed fish with ginger and scallions, braised meatballs with peppers and chestnuts, and pork belly cooked in a clay pot with a host of traditional ingredients that filled the house with the aromas of comfort and nostalgia.
Xiaolong, dressed in the beautiful robe Lan Hua had insisted she wear to dinner, stood quietly at Li Feng's side as he finished slicing the last of the pork belly into bite-sized pieces.
Everyone in the household took a seat around the circular table. Xiaolong seated herself between Li Feng and his mother, whereupon she was promptly rewarded with a generous helping of everything available by Lan Hua, who was acting more and more like a proud mother-in-law, much to Xiaolong's consternation.
They ate in comfortable silence. Xiaolong ate some of the pork, vegetables, and soup, and found it simple but delicious. Most mortals lived such difficult lives, yet still their families could gather around a well-set table and enjoy a hearty meal.
"So, how long are the two of you staying here?" Lan Hua asked.
"We are leaving tomorrow," Li Feng said.
"Tomorrow," Lan Hua echoed. "There is no rush. If you would prefer, then you could stay another week. Xiaolong, you would like that?"
Xiaolong, who had just finished swallowing down the soup, said carefully, "I have no schedule to adhere to."
"Then one week should work, yes?" Li Feng's mother asked, turning to Li Feng, who was chewing on a dumpling. "Unless there was something else pressing at the Sect?"
Swallowing with haste, Li Feng said, "No, nothing at all! It's just—"
"Perfect!" Lan Hua exclaimed. "You have done so much for our village. The least we can do is let you rest here for a bit longer. And you still have to show Xiaolong the sights—she is your honored guest, after all."
Li Feng turned to Xiaolong, as if seeking her help to mediate this unexpected situation, but Xiaolong couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
A week's time.
Though brief when measured against a dragon's lengthy lifespan, it could be a treasured interval, its worth immeasurable. For her to spend that time here, among Li Feng and the people he cherished, seemed like an extraordinary privilege, one she welcomed with all the subtlety a dragon could manage.
Sensing he would have to fight this alone, Li Feng turned to his father and said, "Father—"
His father raised his hands. "This humble old man knows nothing. You are all adults. Figure it out yourselves."
Betrayed on all sides, Li Feng could only nod, resigned to the course the following week had taken.
Seeing Xiaolong discreetly quashing a pleased smile with a spoonful of soup, Lan Hua looked upon her with an approving nod, before saying, "Anyway, back to the real business at hand: children. My only son, and no grandchildren? How could this be!"
Li Feng sighed heavily.
The table continued to spin, and the conversation continued late into the night.