Dark Star: The Lowly Guardian |ONC 2023|

Ghost City

Zhenxing waited in the graveyard, perched on the massive marker of some magistrate or lord or whatever and stared up at the moon sulkily. Blood trickled from his eyebrow and he tugged gently at the cuts across the front of his robes, wondering how hard it would be to find someone to repair them. 

Since his meeting with the Boar Immortal, Zhenxing had made it exactly one month before he'd admitted defeat.

He didn't need to find a place to train. He...needed to find a place to hide.

His many, many wounds said he wouldn't last another encounter with any of the Guardians. He'd barely escaped his most recent run-in with Sun Wukong, the Monkey Immortal, and knew he shouldn't test his luck much further.

Zhenxing still hadn't managed to unlock all of his qi points, and didn't relish the idea of going into Ghost City so lacking. But at this point, he'd take ghosts over another heavenly official. At least they wouldn't care that he was a suspected murderer. In fact, that might make him fit in better.

Midnight ticked closer, and Zhenxing fought his heavy eyelids. If he missed it, he'd have to find another graveyard tomorrow. He cradled Yueguang in his arms, cheek resting against the white-and-silver scabbard. 

He had only ever been to Ghost City once before.

Then, Hu Ye had not allowed Zhenxing to leave his side for a moment. 

"Some of these ghost ladies would like nothing more than to eat you up," he'd warned, a wicked glint in his amber eyes. Zhenxing had taken him literally, eyeing the stalls selling human meat prepared in all manner of ways. 

Now, he sat beneath the glow of the full moon alone, damaged and desperate. 

Zhenxing nearly dozed off when...there!

Little, green ghost lamps popped into being, one by one along the road in front of the graveyard. Zhenxing put up a skin-tight barrier, hiding his living essence, and waited for the parade of ghosts to come by. He slid into the crowd as they shrieked and hollered and danced their way toward the suddenly bright lights just over the hill. 

He held his breath as they passed the gates of the city, but no one stopped him, and he blew out a slow sigh of relief. Though, he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Ghost City had its fair share of heavenly visitors wandering around, looking for entertainments the Heavenly Realm couldn't offer.

There were plenty of humans, too.

Some were being sold right alongside pigs and chickens as the main dishes for some ghost's dinner. Others frolicked and played with the dead, rolling dice, drinking wine, watching beautiful and horrible ghost courtesans dance to hellish and haunting tunes played by fiends. 

Some wore masks, some carried swords, some looked nearly dead themselves.

Everything was drenched in red. Red banners and flags flew in the breeze, gambling parlors and manors were fronted with garnet columns, murdered ghosts were splashed from head to foot in their own blood.

Smoke and steam from food vendors clouded the air with scents sweet and savory and sickening. 

The place was a cacophony of sound and smell and color, making Zhenxing's head spin after so many months spent in solitude. Vendors shouted at him, hawking their wares: human head soup, bone combs, funeral robes, luck and fortune in exchange for just a few years off his life...

Courtesans, male and female, whirled around him, smiling and beckoning, pulling at his sleeves and stroking his hair. Some were even so bold as to trace long nails over his scars. Zhenxing batted them away with Yueguang's sheath, scampering through the crowded streets as quickly as he could.

He dove into a clothier's shop, slamming the door behind him. Blissful silence poured over him, broken only by the elegant sounds of an erhu. The rich, warm scent of silk was layered over something more metallic, but Zhenxing didn't mind after all the other, nastier odors he'd encountered on his walk through the Ghost City.

He caught his breath, then managed to take a good look at his surroundings. Several ghost ladies were eyeing him curiously, arms full of gossamer silks. A few young masters were watching the ladies, scowling when they began to chirp about the newcomer.

Zhenxing softly cleared his throat, clutching Yueguang close to him as he made his way deeper into the shop. He was peering around, searching for the proprietor when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"Gongzi, come this way. Ol' Mo has just the thing for you." A little goblin, barely half his height, began dragging him toward a set of sweeping robes in dazzling white, splashed with stains Zhenxing was sure he didn't want to inspect to closely.

"Wait--"

"Not to your liking?" The goblin immediately changed direction. "Of course, of course. Gongzi has excellent taste. These instead!"

The little imp suddenly piled scarlet robes beaded with what appeared to be bone into his hands and began hustling him to a changing room. "Lady ghosts won't be able to resist Gongzi dressed in this."

"Wait!" Zhenxing dropped the robes and slipped away from the goblin. He grabbed the front of his own robes and said, "I would just like you to repair these, if you can?"

The goblin blinked, then grinned, its eyes bulging as it scampered closer. Much to his discomfort, the little creature scaled him like a tree, a long, bony finger poking and prodding his chest and waist.

"Silk woven in Heaven," it cackled, a long tongue suddenly sweeping over a fold of the robes. "Yep, yep. Ol' Mo can fix it." Its narrow face turned sly. "If Gongzi will supply Ol' Mo with a few strands of his hair to use as thread." It cackled again. "Pretty, pretty boy with pretty, pretty hair."

Startled, Zhenxing batted the goblin off of him with Yueguang.

"Cultivator!" the goblin shrieked, suddenly yanking on Zhenxing's robes. Its eyes rolled, appearing to think something over. Its eyes sparkled. "Daozhang will give Ol' Mo two strands per rip repaired! One for the rip, one for Ol' Mo."

Zhenxing was at a loss as to why the goblin would need his hair. He had been raised in the Heavenly Realm, and knew very little of dark magics or demonic cultivation. It didn't seem like the wisest course of action, but...he also had no other way to pay the goblin.

And he dearly wanted Hu Ye's last gift to him to be repaired.

Slowly, shuddering as the goblin licked its lips, Zhenxing reached up to his skull. He was just about to yank out a few strands when a hand caught his. The goblin turned white, then an interesting shade of purple before it began scraping and kowtowing on the ground.

"Ol' Mo would make you into a pretty puppet with less than an eyelash," a deep, pleasant voice said. "A few strands of hair and you'd forget to breath unless he was kind enough to remind you. And he wouldn't be."

Zhenxing turned slowly, and found himself face to face with a demon. 

Word Count: 1155

Total: 12,121

Gongzi is a term that means young master, while Daozhang is a term that means something like Mr. Cultivator. Both are respectful terms, though the second is more specific to the martial arts world and cultivation sects.