Demon General's Longing

1. Of Tales and Buns

The usually quiet little town that happened to be one of many flanking the Royal Capital surprisingly seemed abuzz with activities heralding the soon approaching festivities. Shopkeepers hawked their wares on every street and roadside; little children ran through thick crowds while laughing and holding up their paper pinwheels. People seemed to cluster and make merry at almost all establishments, and this prosperous-looking inn was no exception. The hearty voice of a storyteller rang out from behind closed doors. The atmosphere was joyous without doubt.

"...And then? Tell?"

"Hm?"

"Then what? What happened to the potbellied shopkeeper?"

Ah, such excitement and anticipation in the air - this great one struck a pot of gold to narrate this story! The old storyteller thoughtfully stroked his beard, thoroughly enjoying the attentive gazes of an eager crowd.

"Hm, the shopkeeper? He listened to Dao Zhang; his wealth increased tenfold and he finally went on to become one of the finest merchants of the kingdom!" He put his hand down with a flourish to signal the end of the tale.

The audience burst into compliments and nods. "Good story!"

He haughtily pulled out a folding fan and put his hand up. Voices piped down as everyone looked on. "Such tales of Mimi Shen are but mere symbols of extraordinary deeds. One cannot help but gasp at their narrations." And the amounts of gold and silver people are willing to squander away nowadays...

"True!"

Someone piped up, "Then why don't you tell the story of Mimi Shen instead, old man?"

Old man? How dare you call laozi old?!

"Insolent!" He snapped his fan shut. 

"Why - is it wrong to want to know it?"

Another person standing nearby scolded. "Noisy boy, who's family are you from? Know your manners!" The boy in question just pursed his lips and said nothing.

The storyteller continued, making a subtle face at the interrupter. "See, knowing the story is not wrong, of course - after all, we all have our treasured Four Famous Tales - but is it possible for this poor fellow to retell a tale no one knows?"

The boy let out a sudden noise, clearly dissatisfied. "You mean, you don't know the story?"

"No one does, young man." He raised an eyebrow at the lad interrupting him again and again. "Don't you know what is said in this regard?

Some say the deity was of royal lineage, the others say he was born penniless in the middle of a desert;

A few say he was blinded upon birth, a few that he lost the will to see;

May one worship him as a god, may another as phantom;

Or might they pray to none. "

A well-known set of lines about this God people knew next to nothing about; a pondering silence ensued. The boy rolled his eyes and left. Good riddance, the storyteller thought smugly.

"Then, what about being Marked?" Someone blurted out. The storyteller almost dropped his fan.

The crowd almost immediately broke into whispers. "Marked?"

"What's that?"

"You know, those cursed marks that..."

"....what?!"

"...true true..."

"Really? I had no idea..."

"Me neither..."