The road stretched long beneath the wheels, the steady rhythm of the horse's hooves filling the quiet between them. Inside the carriage, laughter and growls mixed as little Yoke wrestled with the snowy cub they had named White, the two tiger beasts tumbling over one another in playful abandon. Their sharp cries echoed within the wooden walls, while feathers scattered now and then as Shi Yang's vulture swooped down to join the chaos.
Xiu Mei sat firmly at the reins, her posture straight, guiding the horse with practiced ease. The dust of the road clung to her robes, but she didn't complain—her focus was absolute. Meanwhile, Han Jie sat cross-legged in the far corner of the carriage, eyes shut, breathing calm as she slipped deeper into meditation, ignoring the lively racket around her.
Shi Yang chuckled as little Yoke pinned White, only for the cub to wriggle free and pounce again. He let them play for a while, even reaching out to ruffle their fur before finally easing back. The fun quieted around him, the beasts tiring themselves out, while his gaze shifted slowly to the far corner where she lay.
The fish girl.
Her pale scales shimmered faintly under the dim light slipping through the carriage's slats. Her gills twitched as her body stirred, and then suddenly—her eyes snapped open, panic flooding her expression. She jolted upright, clutching at her chest, her gaze darting wildly around the enclosed space like a trapped bird.
"Easy, easy," Shi Yang said, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. His voice was low, steady, calm. "You're safe here. No one's going to harm you."
She pressed back against the wall, trembling.
Shi Yang tilted his head, softening his expression. Then, with all the dramatics he could muster, he widened his eyes in feigned hurt, his lips curling into the saddest pout imaginable. "Don't you remember me?" he said, his tone cracking just enough to sound pitiful. "It's me—Shi Yang. You begged me to save you. You were about to be sold off by those old men, but I couldn't stand to see you suffer."
He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into a hushed, almost conspiratorial whisper. "So I bought you. Spent all I had just to bring you away from that place."
The fish girl blinked at him, uncertain, confusion flickering in her gaze.
"I won't ask anything of you," Shi Yang continued, pressing a hand to his chest with an air of noble sacrifice—then his words tumbled faster, almost rushed, as if trying to slip them past her notice. "All I want is for you to work off your debts. Just small things. Cooking, cleaning, night work, feeding the pets, washing clothes, and stuff like that…"
He coughed lightly, as though he hadn't said anything out of place, his eyes still wide with false innocence as he watched for her reaction.
For a long moment, the fish girl only stared, her wide eyes blinking slowly as if trying to piece together his words. Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, her damp fingers clutching at the hem of her robe.
"Cooking? … cleaning?" she murmured softly, her voice carrying the lilting tone of someone unaccustomed to human speech.
Shi Yang's grin widened just a touch, relief painted across his face. "Yes, yes! Nothing difficult. Just simple things. You'll see—it's far better than being trapped in a glass tank, isn't it?" He leaned back, waving a hand toward the two tigers rolling about and the vulture perched above. "And you'll have company. Look at them—they already like you."
The vulture let out a rough squawk, flapping its wings as if to punctuate his claim. Little Yoke padded over, sniffing curiously at her ankles before letting out a rumbling purr, his white companion bouncing around behind him.
The fish girl flinched at first, pressing against the wall, but then her gaze softened slightly as the cubs pawed at her feet. She touched her lips, uncertain, and whispered, "Not… bad?"
"Not bad at all," Shi Yang said quickly, seizing her hesitation. He slid closer, lowering his voice as though confiding in her. "You'll find it's good to have a place. Food, warmth, people who won't sell you." He softened his smile, tilting his head with mock gentleness. "And besides… don't you think you owe me just a little for saving you?"
Her brow furrowed as though she was trying to reach back into her fogged memories. "Owe… you?" she repeated.
Shi Yang nodded solemnly, then, with practiced ease, layered on the final touch of his charade. "Of course. But don't worry. I'm not cruel. Work hard, stay by my side, and maybe—just maybe—you'll find freedom when your debt is repaid."
The fish girl's lips parted, as if she might speak, but then her eyes darted away. She hugged her knees to her chest and said nothing, only shivering faintly.
Han Jie cracked an eye open from her meditation, her gaze briefly shifting toward them. She gave Shi Yang a look—half suspicious, half tired—and then closed her eyes again without a word.
Outside, the road rattled on. Xiu Mei flicked the reins, the steady rhythm of hooves filling the silence once more.
Inside the carriage, Shi Yang leaned back against the wall, content, watching the girl with the satisfaction of a hunter who had just netted another prize.
The carriage rocked gently, lantern-light swaying with every turn of the wheel. Shi Yang sat with his arms draped lazily over his knees, watching the fish girl as the tiger cubs continued their tussling nearby.
"So," he began, his tone casual, almost playful, "where did you come from? A lake? A river? Maybe some secret sea where all the pretty fish barbarians hide?"
The fish girl stared at him blankly, her lips pressing together, offering no reply.
Shi Yang leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "No? Not much of a talker, huh? Well then… tell me about your family. Do you have one? Or were you just swimming around all alone before those bastards caught you?"
Still nothing. Her gaze drifted to the floorboards, shoulders tense, as if each word bounced right off her.
He sighed, exaggerating the sound, and tossed up his hands. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets. I'm not prying anymore. I'll just assume you're some mysterious figure fallen from the heavens, here to trouble me with your silence." He leaned back, stretching with mock defeat. "Really, I was just trying to get to know you. But if you don't want to—"
"Yueqin," she whispered suddenly.
Shi Yang blinked, his head tilting. "Hmm?"
"My… name," she said again, her voice trembling but firmer this time. "Yueqin."
For a moment, silence filled the carriage, broken only by the sound of hooves outside and the cubs growling softly in play.
Then Shi Yang's lips curled into a smile. He sat forward, his eyes narrowing in amusement as he studied her. "Yueqin… Yueqin," he repeated, rolling the syllables over his tongue. "That's cute. It suits you."
The fish girl—Yueqin—ducked her head slightly, her wet hair slipping down to veil her face, but not quickly enough to hide the faint flush coloring her pale cheeks.
Shi Yang chuckled to himself, leaning back with satisfaction. At last, a thread had unraveled. "It's nice to finally have a name to put to the face," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her form. His little brother stirred at the sight, but he held himself back. No, be patient with her. I don't want her skinning me in my sleep, after all.
"Let's work well together from now on, Yueqin." He smiled, just as Little Yoke and White bounded over, nipping at his ankles, demanding his attention. "Alright, alright," he laughed, "let's see what game we can play."
He glanced around, then an idea slid into place. "Remember what I said about your tasks?"
Yueqin lifted her head and gave a hesitant nod. His lips curved slyly as he reached for the one-eyed vulture perched in the corner. "Then you can start by looking after this little fellow. If I let him out while I'm busy, he'll just fly off… unlike these two."
She blinked as he set the bird into her lap, her hands trembling under its weight. Her breath hitched, panic flashing in her eyes. "W-wait, I—I—"
Shi Yang didn't give her the chance to refuse. He scooped up the cubs in his arms and made for the door, sliding it open as the carriage rattled along.
"He's better mannered than he looks," Shi Yang called over his shoulder with a grin. "Sweet, even. Just—don't look him in the eye, or you'll end up bound in blood threads."
"H-huh? What—!?"
But by then he was already outside, leaping to the ground with the cubs wriggling in his arms. The vulture tilted its golden eye, locking onto hers, and snapped its beak at the air. A red thread shimmered into existence, coiling tight around her body, freezing her in place.
"Uncle Shi!?" Xiu Mei yelped, startled by his sudden appearance. Her grip tightened on the reins, eyes widening as she saw him with White and Yoke. "Why'd you jump out of the carriage?"
"Just taking these two for a run." He set the cubs down, and they darted ahead with playful roars.
"Make some room up there," he added, jogging alongside until he caught up.
Xiu Mei shifted over on the driver's bench, and he vaulted up beside her, settling into the seat as the cubs bounded further down the road.
"Ah! Don't go too far, you two!" she cried, whipping the reins to quicken the horse.
"They'll be fine," Shi Yang said easily, taking the reins from her hands with a casual flick. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the stretching night ahead. "Besides, I didn't come out here just for them."
He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping. "Han Jie's still digesting her pill, and it'd be… awkward asking our new companion for help. So, I wondered if you could lend me a hand~"
Xiu Mei's lips curled into a sly smile. She brushed her hair back behind her ear, her tone teasing as she lowered her head toward his lap. "Well… my hands hurt. Could you settle for my tongue instead?"