Birds chirped as the sun rose, peeking with its light within the vast city of Wàn Shān Chéng. A hen stood atop a teal wayside pavilion, making the sounds as it does during a gentle morning: wō wō wō!
Though, many children had beaten the sun as they were already outside playing amongst themselves. The city was already bright, shining and happy even before the heavenly body graced the sky.
Though everyone was in high spirits, a slob sat on a walnut quanyi, gazing out at the grand scene while sipping a cup of tea. Of course, it was Amamuren.
Eyes still heavy from the prolonged sleep due to yesterday's ordeal, he slid his feet into the slippers and waddled out of his room.
Outside his room lay a shared lounge, with spiral stairs tucked into one corner and several doors leading to the other residents' quarters – This was the third floor within the million drinks.
Seeing the room empty, Amamuren slowly moved his lethargic body to a nearby door. He clutched the knob and pushed into the other space. A tap sat near the window, and another door stood close by.
The boy turned on the sink and splashed water onto his face. This was practically his daily routine within Wàn Shān Chéng.
Bliss of the cold water was short-lived, however. The door from the lounge slowly creaked open, followed by a man popping his head through, scouting with his curious blue eyes.
"I heard you were back, little brother." Asmuren grinned with a bright smile.
"Mmm… I'm back." Amamuren replied while brushing his teeth, yet to wake up.
"Oh come on~ what's with the tone~?" He said as he walked up to Amamuren. "I heard you looked quite good in the maid dress."
Amamuren rolled his eyes and growled, "good thing you weren't there."
"That's true, that is indeed true, such a shame…"
Amamuren paid no heed to the person next to him as he continued to brush.
"But Mr. Caihe was!" A creepy smile plastered all over his face. "He gave me his drawing of you for a hefty sum!"
The man proudly waved a finely painted sheet of paper like a victory flag.
If Amamuren was not awake, he sure was now. His pupils dilated, face reddened and veins popped up. Even so, he stayed composed, slowly sipped the water of the tap, cleaned his mouth, and dried himself.
Without a moment's hesitation, he lunged at the troublemaker whilst yelling "hand over the drawing!" Only to find the other man already gone.
Amamuren groaned and searched. Third floor – empty. Second floor – no sightings of a blue-eyed freak. First floor – questions along the lines of "have you seen Asmuren?" were heard by many, only to be followed up by rejections.
The next destination was outside. He searched the streets to no avail.
Each waking hour added to Amamuren's dread of the picture changing hands.
Markets,
pubs,
vendors.
He looked everywhere.
"If I were Asmuren, where would I be?"
Amamuren slowly glanced at the trash can beside him and peeked inside.
A passerby noticed Amamuren and directed him towards a nearby wayside pavilion, which had garnered a rather hefty crowd.
"Come, come! Get your own exclusive picture of the one and only! The stock is limited!"
The brash and annoying sound was familiar, the frog-like obnoxious voice of his brother – Asmuren.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Hello there, little brother."
"I asked a question."
"Trying to make ends meet for our family. The world's tough out there these days."
Amamuren looked at the scattered copies on the rose table.
"You're pimping me out?" Amamuren asked, annoyed.
"Just the pictures." Asmuren replied calmly.
"How many did you sell?"
"Forty-seven."
"FORTY-SEVEN?!"
"Fifty-six including the premium version."
"… And what's that?"
"The copies you've signed."
"I did no such thing."
The people holding the pictures looked down, many bore a hastily forged signature reading "Amamuren <3."
Most of their owners were young women.
Whether they were captivated by Amamuren's surprisingly handsome appearance or the novelty of a man in a maid dress was anyone's guess.
They circled the brothers.
"Sign or refund." They said.
"Uh oh…" Asmuren stared at the angry mob while cold sweat formed around his face.
.
.
.
3rd floor of the million drinks, Amamuren's room.
The two sat on a red carpet in the middle of the room, while a humble table rested between them.
Asmuren sat in cold silence, with pockets as empty as a barren desert: his brilliant plan fell like a stack of cards.
Not only had he made refunds, but he had also lost the golden treasure to the customers – The pictures.
The sorrow quickly came to a close after he looked over at Amamuren, who was still deep in thought. He smiled. Almost by instinct, his hand reached over and gently patted his younger brother's head.
"I missed you, little brother. You don't know how worried I was…"
Amamuren looked back at his elder brother, who was just a year older than him. The boy couldn't help but smile back.
Thick silence fell in the room followed by a gentle sense of comfort.
"So, what really happened?" Asmuren asked.
"Do you want to hear it?"
"Of course."
"Let me tell you a small story." He said.
"You mean short story?"
"No."
.
.
.
"And even before saving their people, those maniacs in the town kept trying to trap me there!"
"Those brats! If I were there, I'd beat them all up!"
"Exactly! After saving them all, I left the money I'd taken from the bandits to them!"
"Woah, wait…" Asmuren slowly heaved a sigh. "You did what?!"
"And then I escaped to here. The end."
"So much money… gone…"
"Speaking of money, how much did you make by selling your supreme martial manuals?"
"I made 3,200 Kon." Asmuren smiled.
"Impressive, you really are a great entrepreneur." Amamuren nodded.
Then, the elder brother raised his fist into a thumbs up towards Amamuren, "then got fined 12,000."
Amamuren could only facepalm at this predicament.
"So they were fake manuals… again…"
"But this time, I almost got away with it. It's just that Valmura found me out and dragged me to the authorities!"
"Well, you can't evade big sister…"
"Don't look so gloomy, this was a net positive if we ignore the fine." Asmuren proudly held his head high.
"…"
Asmuren focused his senses on his little brother, took a deep breath, then sighed.
"Can you still not gather Qi?" He asked.
Amamuren looked down and nodded.
"Why does Mo Yingui have to be so mysterious about everything, sending you out on missions so you can find his 'inheritance,' I bet it's all a conspiracy."
"I don't get it either." Amamuren looked over at his brother. "Why couldn't he construct a new body for me… like he did with you?"
"Don't get me even started with that…" Asmuren shrugged. "You know that I randomly transform at the worst possible times."
"That's true… I guess…"
.
.
.
The overwhelming sun had long since yielded to the gentle moon.
Amamuren wrapped his baggage in a cloth and gently tightened it around his hobo-stick before giving his room a final glance.
The bed was made, the teacups were washed. Nothing remained unkept except a small table beside the bed.
Dust slowly fell off and stuck to the napkin as Amamuren slowly moved his hand along the crevices.
Only the insides of the drawer of the table were left.
Within rested a white envelope, decorated with tiny painted vines and leaves.
"…?"
On the back was a single signature "Caihe."
Amamuren let out a helpless sigh, "so he kept a copy…"
He could already picture it: in that ridiculous maid dress, immortalized not only by memory, but also Caihe's brush.
Thinking of burning it, he could still not win over his curiosity.
Unchaining the beast within the envelope, Amamuren carefully slid it out.
A blank sheet stared back.
"… Wrong way."
He turned it over.
Amamuren's expectations shattered. There was no maid outfit, nor an embarrassing memory, and not even a single sign of mockery.
Instead…
Three siblings stood shoulder to shoulder.
A young woman with raven hair wrapped both boys tightly in her embrace, smiling with so much warmth that you'd think she was staring at you beyond the page.
To her left was Amamuren, who laughed without restraint.
To her right – Asmuren. He wore the exact same foolish grin he always did.
The corner had neat markings, which read:
"To our baby brother.
Happy birthday!
- Valmura & Asmuren."
The boy stared at the painting while an uncontrollable smile slowly crept up on his face.
Dong.
A distant bell announced midnight.
It was now his birthday.
.
.
.
The million drinks stood beneath the moonlight, and in the artificial breeze of Wàn Shān Chéng.
Warm lanterns still light up all the floors of the pub.
Some laughed, and life continued just like it always had.
Amamuren carefully tucked the painting in his robes and looked towards the third floor one last time.
"I'll be back." He said with a smile.
Then turned around and took a step.
Behind him, Wàn Shān Chéng remained lively, and radiant as ever.
Ahead…
The road towards the Werian Kingdom called out to him as it disappeared into the darkness.
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