Chapter Text
"Could it be true? Has the Jade Qilin come to bless us all?"
"We can't be too sure, our sacrifice has long since been memorable towards him. Ah! It's almost time, hurry and get ready before the storm arrives!"
Across the field, the figures of two children seem to thrive with joyful smiles. The ill young master, enjoying the company he's longed for, can be seen waving his own happiness toward the other. And for a moment, with such a fragile curve of a smile, no one could really see the shadows beneath his eyes. While beside him, a quiet child dressed in black—Fan Ba—stood in such a calm manner than what he had after so many months, with a weight through his heart slowly drifting closer.
Xie Qi gazed at the sky above, he was happy, finally at peace with his own life. From such a change of events, he was dedicated to keep this feeling to last forever.
Perhaps, could this be fate?
As the sickly child slowly drifted in thought, Fan Ba stepped closer to where he sat. Eyeing towards his gaze, he spoke,
"Xie Qi, is something wrong?"
Turning his head, he noticed as the child he was next to was filled with such concern. Xie Qi smiled, reassuring, "Fan Ba! It's alright, I just have some thoughts going on." His words came out so easily behind his smile, relieving Fan Ba as he spoke. He has become quite the center of attention for him, even the faintest cough from Xie Qi he'd have the residence to fetch his usual medicine. From his pale complexion, to his weak figure, it's hard for Fan Ba not to show concern the more he looked.
But even with his most precise care, he couldn't help but wonder that maybe—if it was for Xie Qi...
If this is where it ends for me, then maybe death could be bearable...
"Fan Ba! Fan Ba! Look!" The boy's voice cut through his thoughts, so eagerly yet unknowing of his intentions. "My blossoms finally bloomed~" And like that, a moment has passed as if nothing happened. But moments like these, it would've been such a nightmare to bear witness for Fan ba. To the point of never leaving one another's side? Months ago, this idea of closeness, of this so-called trust, would have been a nightmare.
Long ago, sold off by a gambling father, Fan Ba learned quickly never to let his guard down. His hands, roughed up by the palace guards, have constantly struggled for as long as he's known. There were no exits, no doors open for him. Ever being wanted for, there were no feelings left in him to desire such a concept.
"Ugh, make this servant go away!"
"Watch where you're going, young man; you could've stained me!"
One error after another, without end, the Qi residency was filled with spoiled brats whose egos had long since exploded. Even walking around the became a minefield for him. There was no room to breathe nor eat, how could I be able to live like this? He thought.
Very quickly, a distinct hatred towards the Qi family has rooted itself deep within his heart. His resentment of them grew quiet yet bitter than those he'd encountered. Thus, he threw himself into martial practice, convincing himself that having creating a clear mind might set a path for him to escape this prison.
And then—
"Amazing!~"
A child in white standing right across, seemed to be waving towards him with a huge smile. His appearance was somewhat fragile, wearing such fine fabric yet possessing a weak face on top. The child looked anything but well with how he moved. Yet despite all of that, he continued to wave happily toward him as if he had no care in the world.
And Fan Ba, he froze. Has he been seen? Was this a trap? He turned away in an attempt to flee till the ill child exclaimed, "Ahh, wait! Don't go just yet!"
Feeling pressured, it seemed the best possible option was to just ignore him. An order like that however, he doesn't have the privilege to disobey the Qi family even in the slightest. He turned around, heading straight to his area. But something made him pause. As he slowly approached the window, he noticed a subtle smell coming from the room.
Medicine?
A strong scent of medicine and herbs filled the air. Standing still, the ill-looking child slowly approached him, brushing up a bit too close for his well-being.
"S-Sorry if I scared you, but that form just now, that was so cool!" Having first impressions with such warmth, his guard eased up towards him. "Does it hurt?" He asked, but hurriedly retained his posture after having known what he said. Before realizing what he did, the ill child smiled. "Oh, You don't have to worry about me," he explained. "It's always been like this for me since I was young, so I don't suggest worrying about it too much." Feeling embarrassed, Fan Ba didn't dare to look back at his reaction. The Qi family were dangerous people to mess with—he should've known better than this, to stay away as far as he could; this sick child wasn’t someone to engage with!
"Ahh, you're bleeding!"
Suddenly, he glanced down, without realizing his arm had been bleeding from a scratch during his training. "Don't worry, I have some medicine for you to take." Running back inside his room, the ill child tried his best to maneuver and find the right drawer for his injury. Fan Ba's first thought was to just run. The attention was suffocating, he didn't want to keep on talking to this poor child, certainly he never meant on staying here as long as did.
Upon returning, the ill child carried patches of wool and medicine within his hands. Desperate to leave, Fan wanted head back. He tried to turn around and walk till he was stopped once again; "Please wait! A-At least let me help!" In a desperate cry, he couldn't help but look back to realize his face.
The boy's face was soft, almost to the brink of tears. He never fully paid attention, not even to his eager cries of help. This child didn't seem to show not one bit of bad intention.
It can't hurt to stay here a bit longer.
Now sitting at the doorframe, Fan Ba found himself lost to his past. Days once spent in warmth and quiet with Xie Qi. Or rather, Mr. Xie, as the world now respectfully addressed him.
How long has it been?
Days bled into weeks, then months, then years. Since the restaurant's opening, guests have come in and poured out, laughter echoing through halls filled with joyous evenings and fantastic food. By all accounts, they were thriving from their own success.
Yet with every fortune that's granted, each comes with own consequence. The Mélodis family.
A mistake that has once lingered within his past has finally became of view again. Due to a previous interaction with them, they appear to have been caught empty-handed at last, even after years of absence. By his experience, their business is only managed through not only just pure hatred, but with money, anything is possible.
Ignoring his thoughts, Fan's gaze lingered on the guests behind of him. He passed by people with different lives, each one greeted with a practiced smile and careful courtesy to his best look. On the surface, he's recognized for managing the restaurant's face, keeping track of money and giving prestigious guests their sense of honor inside this building.
Though his smile was calm, something is a miss beneath every greeting he took. Even if it's unintentionally, a trace of it lingered—buried beneath a mask he'd sworn to keep to himself.
A quiet, desperate disgust for humans.
From the moment he came back, the world around him had changed. The Jade Qilin may have granted him another life, another chance to keep going. In his moments of silence however, deep down, he wished it had never taken notice of him.
But those events were long behind him; what mattered now was the present—for now, those memories aren't the main focus as of this moment. As he looked back, Fan Ba stood up and headed off to close the doors, only to be interrupted.
"Excuse me, are you *hic* a servant in this restaurant? I demand to be *hic* seated!"
A wealthy foreigner, reeking of alcohol, stumbled forward, awfully drunk. He hold back his disgust, the stench of the heavy liquor alone was enough to turn one's stomach.
Annoyed, he carefully lit up a smile, "Well, certainly. I'll call the waiter to assist you in just a minu—"
Suddenly, he was grabbed by the sleeve, the old man's sweat was enough to leave a mark. Fan stiffened, his hand clenching on instinct. "Why aren't you seatin' me already! I’m *hic* tired, y’hear~!”
Still keeping his smile, "Yes, yes—and as I said, I'll call the waiter to assist if you can give me a moment."
"That's a d-darn lie, you're just an assistant here! Just bring me inside already!" He let go of his sleeve, wiping away his sweat on his face. "Does anyone *hic* ever give respect around here?" He said.
The old man stepped back, scoffing with a sneer. "With you people, *hic* it makes sense."
You people?
Foreigners, such a disgusting act of humor.
"Now what do you mean by that sir." With one last chance, he kept his smile all through and well. Just apologize and move on, nothing more than that. He thought, Redeem yourself already.
"I traveled to this place for days, you'd think I-I'd be deserving of some RESPECT." Staring him down, he aimed to his feet and spit right towards his shoe.
Fan’s patience, it seemed, had lasted longer than it should have to his breaking point. He looked around, but the street seemed to be empty tonight. Without a word, he turned to close the doors behind him, leaving the drunkard bewildered.
"Hey! I told you to serve me here! Are you *hic* not listen-"
"Shut up."
In a cold motion, Fan Ba grabbed the man to his collar and punctured a particular needle at the back of his neck. "What-t are you-" The body fell limp within seconds, crumpled almost like a discarded rag doll.
The blood is still circulating, all nervous systems shutting down should be alright. This one stinks.
Fan carefully carried the man with practiced ease onto the other side of the restaurant. He was heavy, only struggling to hold onto him as his sweat started to drench down onto his shoulders. Fan Ba could tell this man has no experience with any work. From the clothing, the attitude, to even his skin being smooth and covered of oils like a pig, spoiled.
With most guests had entered inside by now, and with the night thickening as such, no one would notice a thing.
Heading down to a carefully hidden staircase, quietly he grabbed the man and dropped him down to the floor. He looked around for something in mind, "Ah, there it is." Grabbing the rope, he tied a know for both his legs and hands. Now tied up, he then dragged him downstairs into the darkness.
At the bottom, a small bell ringed as he passed by the hallways, entering carefully. Carefully step by step, he made his way down, gaze drifting toward the ceiling.
Would.. this become ugly for him?.."
The thought echoed in his mind, unanswered. Feeling a tight pain in his chest, he couldn't allow this to exist within his heart unknowing. The door then slid right open, revealing an unexpected pristine living space.
The room seem built entirely of wood, some furniture around with statues of his restaurant glimpsed of gold, arranged with quality care. At the center stood a single wooden table, aged and plain, oddly out of place among the rest. Now with the right materials, Fan Ba slowly placed the man on the table, exhaling quietly so as not to be heard by the guests above.
Amazing how much the human body can handle this.. He thought.
He went to the nearest box behind a shelf, unlocking it, revealing huge instruments of knives, a rope set, and an extra set of gloves.
The smell was worse now, sour alcohol and sweat kept on clinging to the body like ugly pork. He then unclothed a cloth roll inside the box, unwrapping it slowly—inside a metal glinting underneath has broken light above. A blade, thread, and a bone saw, all in perfect condition as usual.
In his mind, every meal always has it's opportunity to show it's own glory to his own visitors. A familiar greed pressed against his chest. The same greed as always became pounded to his heart, So much to preserve, he thought. "So much beauty no one ever bothers to appreciate their own art." He whispered, his excitement has been leaking through since his first strike.
Now eyeing at the meat itself, he leaned closer to the table. The shirt was ripped away from the old man's body, the fabric has been sticking to him with a stench of sweat, almost like rotten skin. The old man's eyes were wide with terror, his cries were obviously there, but useless as it seems.
"Oh don't worry now dear sir." He said, holding a scalpel to his hand. “You should feel honored, not everyone is invited to dine with me you know." He smiled, as a predator might when its appetite is revealed. He saw no man at all, only a pig pleading to be claimed, and eaten.
The old, pale skin seemed to sag once the knife opened away, the man's cries were too muffled to be heard. His eyes were wide, as Fan continued to let the skin bleed, letting the weight of his arm sliding off as the man proceeded to jolt.
There's no hesitation to each thread he cuts. Each one snapped with horrific ease; each joint cracked open with a violent snap. The tendons were breaking like dry rope, his eagerness for this moment has long been exposed to release. The man’s face contorted into an expression of desperation, crying for relief. Fan Ba noticed, he reached out and rubbed his hand to his face. Consoling of what you'd assume a romantic lover would with a small pout.
"Don't cry now." He said. "You'll be displaced in such a fine dinery, you'd be feasted upon many customers as they please."
He looked even closer, from face to face, an inch away from touching.
"Don't you understand? An opportunity of a life time like this is right around the corner." Followed with a smile, he whispered.
"You'll be part of something beautiful for me."
The man, scared, was too tired to answer. Bound to a table and unable to express his confusion, he could only stay still as his insides were becoming all convulsed.
The room was becoming filled with a soft, grotesque sound of bone scraping against metal. The wet, now rotten flesh started to cleanly slice away, almost kissing the knife at hand. There was a certain rhythm to it now, Such tender meat.. He thought. It gave him a sense of pleasure, relieving his once-angered expression.
It was beautiful, his satisfaction was expressed perfectly within the brutal process. Fan Ba moved without hesitation, but then, a certain cut started to squirt towards his coat. "Damn it, the jade." He stopped for a second, looked around for a towel and wiped off the excess blood around his jade pin.
"I need to hold back a bit, no one can find out." He looked up at the ceiling, as the guests cheered loudly with champagne they provided. He wondered, How long ago has it been? Could there have been a different path for him?
Nevertheless, he continued to look down. The old man has long since passed, leaving only certain limbs left to finish cleaning. His hands, covered, has long since been touched with blood and waste from the body.
I hate you.
Blood started to drop beneath him, squirting out of each limb while flowing outside of the body. That didn't matter to him, as dismembering a soul that could've once had potential. To him, this act, this sacrifice, was the price for the Qilin’s favor.
"It's done" He exclaimed. Looking around, all that there was left was only a masterpiece that only he could suffice.
"Amazing!~"
He looked back.
"Who's there?" He cried, but all that was shown was an empty room with no one but himself. Xie Qi.. He thought.
"He'd.. never say that now.."
As he looked back to cover up the limbs one by one, he couldn't help but smile softly to himself. Xie Qi would never have to know about this. His life would be free of interruptions, people like him should never have to worry about customers like these. No rotten dishes would ever be allowed, everything would be fresh, clean, untouched. And that was all that mattered.
Once his task was done, the head was placed first, gently cradled in a container, and wrapped with care. The limbs were then stacked neatly in their own box, each one bundled with a string—carefully, almost tenderly. Fan Ba wiped his blood-slick hands on a cloth, leaving no trace of his work behind.
He had done this countless times before. This was nothing new. It was just another step in the process of purifying this place. He would claim it as a service to the world, one only he could provide.
By the time the limbs were wrapped and sorted, he was already scrubbing the table clean. The sun was coming out, and all sightings of whatever had happened in this room were gone.
Just then, a creak echoed above.
Fan paused. His gaze drifted upward toward the noise.
His thoughts were already moving, always prepared and ready for the next steps—yet something stopped him. He's looking for me.
The soft, careful footsteps of Mr. Xie moving throughout the house. He always moved like that, light, precise, with a subtle hesitation whenever he was noticed by him. Fan Ba didn’t need to glance over to recognize it. The way he moved, dragging by his feet, the memory of each step would always be kept by him.
He sighed, glancing at the table one last time. It was done. Everything was gone: the body, blood, soul. Despite the scent still lingering, it wouldn't have mattered. The smell would linger, the blood would stain, but the world outside wouldn't care. They never did.
"I'll be right there," he muttered, very quietly towards himself.
He didn't need to find out as long as things ran smoothly within the restaurant, and he kept the peace not just for himself, but also for Xie Qi. He'll keep at it.
The doors would open soon, Mr. Xie would step in, and then, just like always, things would move forward.
No more questions. Just the inevitable.