Beiji

Chapter 2 (Pt. 3)

After being dragged along for some time, stumbling along after the man leading him, his legs already aching from the sudden use after a long period of time in which there'd been little need for them, Wan Xue finally got a chance to catch his breath. The man who had purchased him stopped walking abruptly on an unfamiliar street, but Wan Xue knew his way back. He was good with directions. He had to be, considering it was difficult to ask anyone where he was or where to go if he became lost.

There was a small fire ring outside of one of the shops and the man stopped next to it, so Wan Xue did as well. The fire was burning somewhat weakly, but some warmth crawled into his bones all the same. Unexpectedly, the man reached back towards him, grasping the rope at his hands and untying it. Wan Xue stood there a moment with his hands still outstretched, as if waiting for the man to replace the bindings, before slowly lowering them to his sides when the man showed no intentions of doing so.

The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up. It was the slavery contract, the paper proving that this man owned Wan Xue. With a start, the latter watched as the former fed the paper into the flames by their feet, where it caught instantaneously and burnt away into nothing.

Wan Xue looked up at the man in surprise, only to find that he had retrieved another item from his pockets – a small money pouch – and he was holding it out to Wan Xue. Hesitantly accepting it, Wan Xue curled his fingers around the soft fabric. The man puffed out a breath of warm air, sending out a cloud of fog in front of him on the cold morning.

"I'd recommend you not stay in the area," he said. "Leave, start over somewhere else." Holding out a different piece of paper, he added, "Show them this at the gate when you go and they'll let you leave the city with any family you might have, no questions asked. I wish you luck."

Wan Xue realized he was about to leave and quickly placed his right hand over his left, which was still gripping the pouch, and bowed to the man in gratitude.

"Don't thank me," the man said. "It wasn't my idea."

The unknown man walked away, leaving Wan Xue in somewhat of a daze, gazing down at the cloth pouch and the paper in his hand, unsure of what had just happened. If not your idea, then whose?

Stuffing the items into his clothes, he turned away from the heat of the fire and made his way home. Of course, that man was right. He couldn't stay here. Regardless of who had purchased him and subsequently him set free, the emperor had clearly wanted him to be a slave. Honestly, Wan Xue was surprised he hadn't simply ordered him killed, considering his reaction upon learning of his supposed guilt. In that case, he could conclude that the emperor did not know of his current freedom or the heavy pouch that lay close to his chest.

His heart was pounding as he walked as quickly as he could without drawing attention. None of what had happened over the last week made any sense at all, least of all this sudden act of kindness. He didn't slow down until he reached his own home, avoiding the areas closest to the square where the auction had been held, as well as the palace grounds. Of course, he could still see the palace walls in the distance, but even looking at them left him with a pit in his stomach and he averted his eyes, keeping them facing forward instead, until he entered through his own door, bolting it behind him.

The wood of the door was rough as he leaned his cheek on it, his hand pressing against it as well after the bolt was fastened. He closed his eyes and breathed before turning back to his house. It looked the same as before they'd come for him and dragged him away to the palace to be punished. There was some old food causing it to smell a bit, so he promptly threw it out and cracked open one of the windows.

Only then did he withdraw the pouch and dare to open it at last. As he had expected, it was money. What he had not expected, however, was the amount. He had already noted its weight, but he had expected it to be filled with the copper coins he normally used, and there were a number of those, but there were also silver ingots, perhaps even more numerous than the ordinary coins, and even a few gemstones whose worth he couldn't even guess at. His hands trembled and he almost set it down without noticing the edge of a piece of paper poking out from underneath the array of valuables. But as he was about to close the pouch, he saw it and withdrew it before setting the pouch down on the small wooden table and lowering himself to the single stool that occupied his small house. Aside from the small sleeping mat in the corner, these were the only furniture items in the room.

Opening the paper, Wan Xue stared at the mess of characters there. The strokes were careful and clear, obviously written by someone with extensive experience and practice, but that didn't change the fact that it was all meaningless to him. He traced his fingers over the elegant calligraphy, picking out the word money, a common character he had seen on many occasions and had stored away in his mind, which was always hungry for more knowledge that he had no way of obtaining.

Having grown up on the streets, he had never been taught to read or write, or really anything at all, learning only through his own life experience. He was still young when he was hired for a pittance at the farm he still worked at even now. Well, not now. Now he had to leave the city. With a heavy sense of resignation, he refolded the letter and slipped into his pocket along with the other paper, whose words he also could not read. Although he wasn't sure it was a wise decision, he did the same with the pouch, knowing that if he was caught with it, he'd most likely be accused of theft. He didn't exactly look the part of a wealthy man. Of course...

Wan Xue realized that once he left the city, he could buy new clothes, whatever he needed. If he wanted to look like a rich man, he could, because he suddenly was one. There's no need for extravagance, he thought. Just some simple clothes and items would be fine.

It wasn't even noon yet, the sun rising high in the sky, and Wan Xue still had most of his shutters closed and his door bolted. While he knew he should leave as soon as possible, there was also the matter of needing to avoid notice. And on top of that, he was tired – exhausted, bone-weary tired.

Practically collapsing on the sleeping mat, he pulled his small, threadbare blanket around himself, not daring to light a fire, even in this chilly weather, in case someone noticed the smoke from his chimney and came looking for him. Despite the cold, he was in his own bed for the first time in a long while, and he fell asleep much more quickly than any of the uneasy nights he had spent in prison.