Volume One: The Scroll of Fresh Rain Chapter Two: The Verdant Stream in My Dreams

The town, freshly unveiled from a veil of mist, was vibrant and inviting. The scattered sunlight reflected off puddles lingering on the green bricks, making the small town shine with unusual brightness.

A boy ran along the streets, his steps splashing rainwater into the air. He passed by the town’s ancient well, shrouded in moss, skirted the crumbling temple, and dashed beneath the tower where a bronze-stained bell hung suspended. He looked up and shouted, “Tao Yao!” but, hearing no answer, kept running forward.

The town was called Nameless Town—not because it lacked a name, but because that was its name. It was old; the ancient well, the dilapidated temple, and the rusted clock on the tower all spoke of its long, winding history. Perhaps it was this antiquity that gave rise to a host of complex customs passed down through generations. For example, several mountains nearby were strictly forbidden to all; nothing was to be thrown into the dried-up ancient well; and on the night of every full moon, when dusk fell, every household in town would shut their doors and sleep.

There were many other subtle taboos and traditions, but the townsfolk had long grown accustomed to them. Only children would ask “why,” and their busy parents would absentmindedly brush them off with a perfunctory answer.

“Only Uncle Sword never does that. He never lies to me—he just doesn’t tell me anything.” The boy sighed with an air of maturity, “I heard the academy teaches object study, body training, and the most wondrous Dao techniques. Last year, the teacher said I was too young, so I couldn’t join. I hope this year I’ll be allowed in.”

He clenched his fists in encouragement, preparing to quicken his pace. Suddenly, the woods beside him erupted with the clamorous voices of a group of children.

“Run! Go on, run! Will you dare next time? Will you?” came a piercing voice from the trees.

The boy stopped, tilting his head to listen.

“Tao Yao, you think you can attend the academy? Keep dreaming!” The shrill voice persisted.

Hearing the name, the boy’s round, endearing face grew stern. He strode swiftly toward the woods.

Inside, a group of ten-year-olds were kicking and punching a sturdy youth, about fourteen or fifteen, who lay curled up on the ground. The bigger boy took the blows without begging for mercy, only occasionally letting out muffled groans when struck particularly hard.

Without a word, the boy marched straight into the crowd, grabbed one of the assailants, and tossed him into a thicket. Another attacker managed only a scream before being hurled into the bushes as well. The remaining children finally realized what was happening, shrieked, and scattered in panic.

“The little monster is here! The little monster!” they cried.

“Ye Mingke, you freak!” shouted the leader, retreating but still pointing at the two boys as he ran, chanting:

“In the west village lives a little monster, carrying firewood like a giant turtle. In the east village, a big fool, unloved by mother or father, won’t fight back, only whimper.”

As he sang, the other fleeing children turned and joined in, clapping and chanting as they ran.

Ye Mingke, his face taut, took a few steps forward, feigning to pick up a stone. The children gave another shout and this time truly fled.

Turning back, Ye Mingke saw Tao Yao, who had been curled on the ground, now sitting up. He crouched, raised his hand, and patted the big, grass-stained head, sighing with a touch of resignation.

“Tao Yao, why did you let Li Yin and his lot bully you again? You’re not weaker than them.”

“No, I really can’t beat them. Besides, if my father finds out I fought, he’ll kill me." Tao Yao scratched his head and grinned foolishly at Ye Mingke. “It’s alright, I’ve got plenty of flesh. It doesn’t hurt.”

“As if! When we get home, I’ll put some of my uncle’s medicine on you.” Ye Mingke rolled his eyes. “Come on, the academy entrance exam is about to start.”

He offered his hand, pulling Tao Yao to his feet. Tao Yao grinned again, then, as if it were the most natural thing, lifted the tiny Ye Mingke onto his shoulder. The mismatched pair strode out of the woods together.

“Tao Yao, did you pass the academy’s written test this year?” Ye Mingke asked.

“Mm-hmm, I did. Teacher graded me as C. I read all the books you gave me and memorized them, that’s how I passed. Thank you, Mingke.”

“No need to thank me. Still, all that memorizing and you only got a C—what a pity. But don’t lose heart; once you’re in the academy, maybe you’ll get smarter.” Ye Mingke patted Tao Yao’s big head.

“What about you? What did you score in the written test this year?” Tao Yao asked.

“I didn’t take it this year. I passed last year, got an A+, but the teacher wouldn’t let me attend.” Mingke sounded helpless.

“Why won’t the teacher let you go?” Tao Yao asked curiously.

“Everyone in the village and my Uncle Sword says it’s because the teacher doesn’t like my family.”

“But the teacher says I’m too young. Last year I turned nine, so I should have been eligible. Honestly, he thinks I look too frail. To be even more precise… he thinks I’m too short.” Ye Mingke spoke with a sense of injustice.

“True, I was the shortest among the kids last year. But this year, I’ve grown—one centimeter!” Mingke declared proudly, holding up a finger while seated on Tao Yao’s shoulder.

“Heh.” Tao Yao scratched his head, smiling foolishly. “I think I grew a few centimeters these past two months.”

“Shut up!” Mingke snapped, embarrassed, and flicked Tao Yao’s head.

“It’s okay, Mingke. Just eat more like me and you’ll grow taller,” Tao Yao said.

“But I can’t eat too much. If I do, I might get sick again.” Mingke rested his hand on Tao Yao’s head, his tiny face full of worry, and sighed deeply.

The entrance test site was different this year—it was by a small stream outside the village. When the two arrived, a dozen children and their parents were already gathered by the water. Groups of children played together, while the adults chatted in clusters, making the place as lively as a marketplace.

Tao Yao carried Mingke into the crowd, but felt out of place. Other children came with parents or friends, but the two of them had neither—no family, no companions—standing alone, out of step with the bustling world around them.

“Let’s go over there,” Ye Mingke said, glancing around and pointing to a large stone by the stream.

“Alright,” Tao Yao replied quietly and carried Mingke toward the stone.

The stone was taller than a person and nearly twenty feet across, like a wall. Behind it lay a shallow, rocky stretch, damp and cool in the morning air.

Here, away from the nearby noise, it was much quieter. Ye Mingke was pleased, patting Tao Yao’s shoulder to let him down, then hopping onto the stones in the shallow water to play.

Splash.

He stepped onto a mossy round stone, lost his balance, and landed in the shallow water, sending up a spray. As he regained his footing, he glimpsed a white figure at the shore from the corner of his eye.

He looked properly this time. It was a girl sitting on the other side of the stone, wearing a white dress, quietly hugging her knees and gazing at the gentle flow of the stream.

She was a quiet girl.

Mingke instinctively felt apologetic for disturbing her peace. He carefully, softly, hopped across a few stones and sat beside her.

The girl continued to watch the stream, seemingly unaware of Mingke’s presence. Mingke followed her gaze to the water.

“Are you watching the shadow of the wind?”

A cool breeze stirred the stream, sending ripples across its jade-green surface. Reflections of people, trees, and sky wavered, transforming into shimmering light.

“No.” The girl turned to look at Mingke. Her voice was soft, as if afraid to wake something. Her eyes were beautiful, but clouded, as though shrouded in mist.

She said, “I think this stream is like a reflection in the water, like a dream—whenever the wind blows, whenever you open your eyes, it might vanish.”

Ye Mingke gazed at the frail, slender girl before him and suddenly felt she, too, was like a reflection in the water, like a dream.