It was impossible for a building to be constructed and finished within a single working day. The exhaustion of manual labor was just a single part of the problem, and the crux lay within the materials. An Fei knew that she was aware of her lack of knowledge regarding the Shattered Star Continent’s technical abilities, but it seemed infeasible that there would be an insulated bonding agent that would adapt to its environment so quickly.
Even industrial cement of the modern world took at least two days to dry, and a month to reach its full capabilities and durable strength.
The young girl sighed and moved towards the wrecked shambles of a nearby jewelry storehouse. She dragged over a somewhat preserved wooden slab to rest her fatigued body, and hid herself from the rain with the elderly man. The insidious drops smashed against the unrelenting floorboards separating the two-storied storehouse, and the elderly and young sat to observe the men and women continuing to labor.
Those who were involved in making the bonding agent of ash had paused their work and instead formed makeshift parasols and umbrellas larger than their body. They then unfurled the covers with all of their might, and stood to shield the men and women moving and placing the stones from the incoming rain.
The sonorous, mindless roar continued throughout the night as the stone blocks were smashed into place despite their bodies suffering numerous wounds from the accumulating rain. Eventually, An Fei could watch no longer, and turned her gaze towards the elderly man sitting to her right.
“I want to know. What is the Blistered Stone you mentioned earlier?”
The elderly man revealed an understanding and compassionate smile, and made no incisive comment. Instead, he raised his withered palms towards the raining street revealed from the demolished walls of the storefront.
“The Blistered Stone? Merely nothing but a legend,” the elderly man exhaled, and closed his eyes.
“A legend of a rock that was carried from our ancestors homeland to Bei Tang, but nothing more is told. Perhaps only the immortal cultivators of the Violet Jade Pavilion knows of its true origin. What we do know, is that the stone wasn’t anything special or noteworthy.”
Carried by the ancestors to the Shattered Star Continent?
An Fei puckered her cheeks at statement, thinking of the history of the modern world that had once been drilled into her mind. Pecked within that cascade was of course, a deluge of theories of many giant civilizations created by those who migrated inland from small continents or islands.
“How long has Bei Tang stood in the continent?”
“Bei Tang?”
The wizened pair of eyes snapped open, and the elderly man glared at the young girl. As the aged countenance took its time to formulate the appropriate words, An Fei witnessed the ultimate transformation from hatred and indignance into a placid, tranquil indifference. It brought an uncomfortable sensation to bloom at the depths of her heart, yet she felt a tinge of familiarity with the inhuman gaze.
It was perplexing.
“The history of Bei Tang…? The legacy of our ancestors dates back over five hundred thousand years. The royal catalogues document it as such at Chang-Won City,” the elderly man lightly snorted in disdain.
“But Bei Tang? Never. Two massive factions that constantly wrestle for the imperial throne, can that be called a functioning empire?”
“There is a royal catalogue, but no ruling family? Two competing factions, but it can oust Great Yong and Great Yan so easily?”
The young girl muttered, and her countenance scrunched in discomfort. An Fei kicked at a loose stone with her foot, and waited for the elderly man to return to his senses. The repeated hammering of the falling rain gradually transformed into the bellowing pumps of fire, the howls of the people into a glorious anvil, and the smashing of stone blocks the forged ingots of the divine.
“Kangyang, Hongri. Two ancient factions that date back to our ancestors’ origin, or perhaps even further in the past,” the elderly man chided.
“Perhaps they were once a unified royal family, but now have been split apart for hundreds of thousands of years with great hatred sown between them. They have each adopted a different language and culture, forcing us – the common people – to adopt new customs whenever one side achieves a triumph.”
An Fei immediately recalled the horrifying amalgamation of scribbles that was considered Bei Tang’s written language system at the time, and her stomach churned in desperate protest. The gagging of a young girl combined with the expression of disgust and terror plastered on her fair countenance caused the elderly man to chuckle whilst ruefully shaking his head.
“If both sides are equally matched, the language we must learn and adopt changes twice a decade. If one side nurtures a genius immortal cultivator, then they will dominate for fifty years, or more than a hundred if they have attained a Heaven’s Childe. Young Lady, you have come to Bei Tang at such an unfortunate time, ah, for the language changed just a year ago.”
Heaven’s Childe? Wasn’t her Second Elder Brother considered a “Heavenly Childe”?
“A Heaven’s Childe? What does that mean?”
The young girl inquired with great interest, only to be met with a shake of the latter’s head. An Fei returned her gaze towards the laboring people across the street, but her vision was pinned onto the eerily swaying and shaking slabs of decaying wood being tormented by the all-devouring black threads.
“Heaven’s Childes, the fallacies of the two supreme factions ruling Bei Tang; are they something us mortals can contend with?” the elderly man displayed a bemused expression.
“Since we cannot guess at the thoughts of those deities, it is much better to relinquish to Fate. Mortals do not fight with Fate, so their fates will be more merciful.”
An Fei snorted with displeasure at the lackadaisical statement, and rubbed at her arms to ease the uncomfortable sensation creeping through her body. The young girl sharply inhaled as she thought to change the subject, until she spotted the silhouettes of children busily working in the rain.
They labored without the protection of neither rags over their head nor an umbrella hoisted over their body, allowing themselves to be drenched and soaked by the rain.
They weren’t cared for by the adults, and instead worked seamlessly without complaint whilst enduring the harsh punishment of the rain. An Fei began to rise with furrowed brows, but aged claws of iron latched onto her arm.
“Sit. Since you are here to witness and learn, it is best to interact as less as possible.”
“They are children. The oldest amongst them is hardly ten years of age,” the young girl countered.
“They have witnessed little of the world nor enjoyed their life. It is not right to let them suffer the brunt of the curse.”
“How do you know that they have not experienced enough of the world for their satisfaction? Why do you have compassion and sympathy for a child, but not their adult? Did you stand when the bodies of men and women were flayed by the winter rain – or think why they continued their chants and songs and not spoke in words?”
The calm and tranquil words stung deeply within An Fei’s heart, and she abruptly noticed the uncomfortable pulse surge through her limbs, sapping them of their strength. The young girl sank back onto the wooden plank, and revealed a self-deprecating smile.
“…not even I would blame a child for their grandfather’s sins,” she grimaced with a muffled whimper.
“I’ve seen the curse. The black threads that tear and devour everything – I’ve seen exactly what it can do to a human body!”
“Then are the children whimpering and crying for assistance? Are they suffering?”
The elderly man raised his stick towards a young boy busily handling timber boards the size of his body. As he rushed from cornerstone to cornerstone, the child handed supplies to the working men and women without uttering a single word.
“Where are the tears of pain, the pleas for salvation? Where is the curse that eats away at their body until not even a corpse is left, as you have said?” the elderly man repeated with a stern voice.
“Compared to you, compared to their adults, or even me – this old fossil – a child knows nothing. He knows neither of the pleasures and satisfactions of human life, nor does he know how to fight against Fate. Since he has not antagonized Fate, why should he be harmed?”
An Fei blinked in surprise, and glanced towards the laboring children once more. When she had clearly seen the numerous children running through the rain without much more than a light grimace from the eldest teenagers, and that all others were hardly touched by the writhing black threads, the young girl sat in a dumbfounded stupor.
She remembered… when the black threads within a single raindrop touched a mere scrap of her clothing, it tore the entire garment apart in a do-or-die resistance…
