[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

The good news: the energy-revealing array works!

The bad news --

It's not bad news, he insists to himself. It just... is. It's a complication, a hole in the road, a little snare tripping him up. That's all. It doesn't have to be more. It might not even be in the first place, yes? He is dead, Lan Zhan is alive, of course seeing just how very alive would stir something in him. That's all it is.

Right?

Never mind that he's fairly certain if he placed the same array on Harrow, or Tom-gongzi, or Ingress, he would not have been struck the same way. That -- it's ridiculous, this is all ridiculous, and that's why he's out here by the lake, standing on a flat rock with another array of talismans fluttering in his hand.

The key is not just luring resentful energy from the forest, despite the suppression around the inn. It is how swiftly he can do it. During his coffee-fueled spree of work last night, he drew up some new lures that ought to work faster than a traditional set. Now he scatters them in a wide circle around his feet, gestures sharply, and sends a bolt of red energy into the yellow paper slips.

Silently, in his head, he begins to count. One... two... three...

At the count of thirteen, something boils at the forest's edge, dark and oily.

Wei Wuxian smiles and lifts his flute to meet it.

Comments

[acrookedpath]

A few strands of the man's long hair lift in an unfelt breeze. The smoke grows thicker, clambering over his arms as if trying to drag him into the lake -- but he does not move, sturdy as the rock upon which he stands. Whatever holds sway in those shadows will not sway him.

In time, the music shifts again. It loses some of its unsettling resonances: now it is clearer, a little sweeter. Too sharp to be a lullaby, but perhaps sewn from similar cloth. Thus soothed, the smoke loosens its grip on the man and begins to drift away.

Soon he stands alone on the lakeshore. Just as the smoke faded away, so too does his music drift into silence. He finally lowers the flute with a satisfied sigh and watches the ghosts vanish into the forest.

Only then does he turn -- and jerk back a little, startled, before breaking into an incongruously bright grin. "Ah! Hello there!" he calls to Yong-ha.

[personaltaste]

Yong-ha's curiosity just barely wins out over his ingrained fear, if only because the smoke never takes recognizable human form or moves toward him. He flinches backward when the musician jerks, but holds his ground.

If only every scholar who's ever mocked him for fleeing from imagined ghosts could see him now! That's only one person, granted, but Yong-ha is satisfied all the same. Or he will be once icy terror stops coursing through his veins, anyway.

The stranger doesn't look terribly intimidating. An interesting style of robes, more similar to those Yong-ha saw once on a trading voyage than any worn in Joseon but still unfamiliar. If he's a jeoseung saja, he's a friendly one — it's difficult to imagine a grim reaper with a smile like that. Yong-ha swallows; recollects his tattered dignity.

He lifts his eyebrows personably. "That's quite a trick!" he calls back. "I haven't seen its like before." And he has seen his fair share of tricks.

[acrookedpath]

"Thank you!" Still grinning, he vaults down from the rock. As he approaches Yong-ha -- much easier than shouting a conversation over a great distance, after all -- he tucks the simple bamboo flute into his belt. "It has taken me several weeks to find enough resentful energy to work with -- I believe the inn suppresses such things, at least somewhat. Next time I hope to call it from the forest even quicker!"

Once he is close enough, he bows to the stranger. "I am Wei Wuxian. Might I ask your name?"

[personaltaste]

Next time! Even quicker?!

This is an intriguing new puzzle, and one that Yong-ha has committed to now. He goes to bow, realizes he still has his new pot in hand, and hurriedly tucks it into his sleeve. Then he bows, more deeply than he might ordinarily when meeting someone who looks to be of an age with him.

Best to be safe just in case this Wei Wuxian is some sort of grim reaper with a sunny disposition and a handsome face.

"My name is Gu Yong-ha," he says. "I'm pleased to meet you here." He tilts his head, studying his new acquaintance. "Do you hail from a kingdom of shadow musicians?"

[acrookedpath]

"A whole kingdom?" He laughs. "Ah, no, I was the only one of my kind. But I have met others here whose entire world follows the path I once though I forged alone. I must admit to envy at times."

Someday. Someday, he will learn to work with thanergy the way Harrow does.

[personaltaste]

This is not answering the grim reaper question.

It is, however, making Wei Wuxian even more interesting. The only one of his kind!

"Quite a trick indeed," Yong-ha says, approving. "Bar-nim does have an eye for talent in selecting her patrons." He pauses; taps his chin lightly in thought. The two bead strings hanging from the brim of his black gat clack with the movement. "A wood-grain for talent?"

Yong-ha has had the mysterious Landlord explained to him, but he's of the mind that Bar is both smart and devious and is using the absent Landlord as a convenient smokescreen to hide the true power behind the throne — herself.

Someday he may be able to prove it, but until then, he enjoys negotiating with her. She drives a hard bargain.

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian snickers at the joke.

"She does seem to find the most extraordinary people," he agrees. "Everyone I've met has had the most intriguing life, or been from such a fascinating place! Not a dull one among them. Tell me, Gu Yong-ha, what talents do you have that Madam Bar saw fit to bring to us?"