Wood and steel thumped against the grass as Renwu unceremoniously dumped what he had been carrying onto the damp ground. At the sight of the various weapons, Lanyun couldn’t help but feel a sense of incongruousness between the deadly objects and their relaxing surroundings. Early that morning, he had followed Renwu into the forest. The celestial was holding a large object wrapped in a suspicious burlap sheet. Though Lanyun knew that they did not stop at an empty clearing to observe the rushing waters of the river or listen to the birdsong above them, he couldn’t quite say that he had anticipated what they were actually there for.

“Did you rob a blacksmith?” Lanyun stared at the weaponry before him in shock. There was an assortment of swords, staves, axes and other sorts of weapons that he had never seen before. The only items that he could semi-confidently identify were the bow and quiver of arrows.

“No, he kindly loaned them to me,” Renwu said curtly. “The spirit domain can be quite dangerous for a human, so we must adequately prepare you for it. We’ll test your aptitude with each of these and purchase whichever one you can wield the best.” He pointed to one of the medium-sized swords. “Let’s begin with this.” 

Lanyun picked up the sword and awkwardly gripped the leather-bound handle with two hands, pointing it toward Renwu. 

“That’s a one-handed sword,” Renwu sighed. 

The tips of Lanyun’s ears burned in embarrassment as he switched his grip to his right hand only. “So have you also prepared a training dummy or something for me to strike? You can’t expect me to swing randomly in the air, right?”

“Fair enough,” Renwu agreed and held a hand out towards the river with his palm facing the sky. 

Lanyun felt the wind stir as the leaves rustled in the branches overhead. The river grew agitated, gurgling and spraying water into the air. The fine mist brushed against Lanyun’s cheek with a feathery touch and coated the grass in a layer of dew. Eventually, the shape of a man emerged from the currents and stumbled before Lanyun. Its water body rippled silently. 

“Are you a water governing celestial?” Lanyun asked. His grey eyes widened in wonder at the sight.

“Not all water,” Renwu said with a wistful expression. “Just the rivers and seas.” He leaned back against a tree trunk and crossed his arms before his chest. Looking expectantly at Lanyun and his river water creation, he flashed a smile. “What are you waiting for? Begin.”

For the remainder of the daylight hours, Lanyun tested the weapons against the water figure as Renwu declared him to have no innate aptitude for any of them. Growing up in a small, peaceful village protected by the river and mountains, Lanyun never had the opportunity nor need to practice combat. As Renwu’s disappointment grew with every poor form that Lanyun assumed or throwing dagger that he missed, Lanyun’s own patience thinned at the spectacle he was making of himself. Not to mention, the effectiveness of having a training dummy made of water was also debatable. Lanyun shivered lightly in the autumn breeze as even his inner robe was completely soaked through. 

“Next,” Renwu commanded unemotionally.  

Picking up the last axe, Lanyun grimaced as the wooden handle rubbed against the fresh blisters on his hands. He already had his fair share of calluses from shovels and rakes, but the day’s weapon aptitude test gifted him new suffering. Lanyun raised his sore arms over his head and brought the axe back down onto the water dummy charging towards him. 

The blade cut through the dummy’s shoulder and sent a wave of water directly into Lanyun’s face. Spitting out the river water from his mouth, Lanyun coughed as some of it entered his windpipe. 

Renwu shook his head in disappointment at the spectacle. “You’re trying to split open a moving skull, not a piece of wood.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve only had the pleasure of chopping wood before and not skulls, so my beheading skills are a bit rusty,” Lanyun said sarcastically. 

“Next,” Renwu said, ignoring Lanyun’s comment. “This is the last one.”

The final weapon for Lanyun to try was the recurve bow and also the one that he was most optimistic about. His grandmother’s bow was always kept in their home, hanging above the mantle, and Lanyun had held and even strung it on multiple occasions. She had let him try shooting it once when he was twelve, but after the arrow narrowly missed his sister’s head, Lanyun’s grandmother forbade him from ever trying again. Still, he would fantasize about the weight of the bow and the tension of the string every time he followed her into the mountains to watch her hunt. He’d listen to the whistle of the arrow cutting through the air and the sharp cry of the prey as it fell. 

Lanyun gripped the bow firmly in his hands. It was slightly longer and heavier than his grandmother’s, and the laminated wood also felt cheaper without any horn strippings on the belly of the bow. Recollecting the archery form his grandmother had shown him all those years ago, Lanyun carefully nocked an arrow and wrapped his thumb around the bowstring, under the nock. With his index finger over his thumb, he drew back, aimed at the water dummy now standing thirty meters away, and released. 

 The arrows flew gracefully through the air before disappearing into the forest foliage, completely missing the water dummy by a couple of meters to the right.

“When I first saw you draw back that bowstring, I thought that you might've known how to properly use a bow,” Renwu remarked as he approached Lanyun. “Now I know to never expect anything from you again.” 

“I thought that it might work if I copied what my grandmother does,” Lanyun said in dismay. “She makes it seem so much easier than reality.”

“Your grandmother knows how to use a bow and arrow?” Renwu questioned.

Lanyun nodded. “Yes, she’s a shaman after all.”

Renwu gave Lanyun a strange look. “Are you certain that she’s really just a shaman?”

“Of course.” Lanyun continued to admire the bow in his hands. “So now that I’ve tried all the weapons you brought, what’s next?” 

“I had originally hoped that you might have some innate talent for one of them, but now I know that is not the case,” Renwu admitted. “Choose whichever you prefer, and we’ll just have to work with that.” 

“I want the bow and arrows,” Lanyun immediately said as he grabbed the quiver of arrows off of the ground. 

 “Fine,” Renwu agreed indifferently. He then began wrapping the burlap sheet back around the remaining weapons. 

Lanyun tied the quiver around his belt and unstrung the bow since he wasn’t going to use it at the moment. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pain. One of the blisters on his left palm had burst, and yellow pus and blood dripped down his hand. 

“What happened?” Renwu asked, moving to stand beside Lanyun.

“I’m fine,” Lanyun said, reaching for the bag that Riri had given him. He had brought it with him into the forest that morning. “I just need to bandage it.”

“Your hands are filthy,” Renwu observed. “If you don’t want to lose it to an infection, you need to wash it first.” Without waiting for a reply, the celestial grabbed the back of Lanyun’s hand and guided a small ball of water over his injury. 

Lanyun felt a cool sensation enveloping his palm as the water slowly lifted and absorbed any dirt and impurities from his hand. With Renwu’s hand cupping the back of his own, Lanyun felt a pricklish texture. He couldn’t help but note that contrary to the celestial’s divine and scholarly appearance, the position of the rough calluses on his palm suggested that Renwu had spent more time with the sword than the pen. 

“Bandages,” Renwu said, snapping Lanyun out of his thoughts.

“What?” Lanyun looked down at his hand blankly. All of the dirt and pus had been wiped away with only the pink flesh and new spots of blood remaining. 

“Give me the bandages so I can wrap your hand now.” Renwu’s brows wrinkled in annoyance. 

“Right, yes.” Lanyun dug around in his bag with his uninjured hand and took out what felt like cloth bandages. Along with a roll of white bandages, he saw that he was also holding some short strips of paper with calligraphy writing on them. He handed both items to Renwu. “What is this?” 

After glancing over the words, Renwu handed them back to Lanyun and unfurled the bandage roll. He explained patiently as he wrapped Lanyun’s injury. “They’re a gift from Lianbing. Each one is an open contract for a one-time utilization of her powers. Once you sign your name at the bottom, you can use it.” 

Lanyun counted out three of the papers with only one different character on each of them: 雪, 冰, 凍. “Snow, ice, freeze? How am I supposed to use this?”

“Like a talisman,” Renwu said. “Shamans have often contracted these sorts of powers from celestial executors. Just do whatever your grandmother does. It’s very simple.”

“Very simple,” Lanyun echoed dryly, though he had never paid any close attention when his grandmother practiced her mystic arts. The long rituals were always too tedious and boring for him. He had no idea if she had even used a talisman before.

After Renwu finished bandaging his hand, Lanyun continued where he had left off and fastened the bow across his back using a makeshift holster of belt and cloth.

“Where did you learn to store it like that?” Renwu suddenly asked. He gestured to the quiver of arrows secured to the back of Lanyun’s right hip with the arrowheads pointed towards his left thigh while the bow stretched diagonally down from his left shoulder to his right thigh. Together, the quiver and bow formed a criss-cross shape. 

“This is how my grandmother wears them,” Lanyun said. 

Renwu looked at Lanyun thoughtfully. “I see.”

“By the way, when we return the rest of the weapons to the blacksmith, could I ask him to make a proper holster for my bow?” Lanyun asked tentatively. Since he had no money himself, he could only rely on Renwu’s generosity.

“We can try asking,” Renwu agreed amiably as he hid the bundle of weapons into a bush under a tree. “But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Why?” Lanyun asked in confusion. “Are we going somewhere now? Will you remember where you hid those weapons later?” He was unfamiliar with the Guwang forest, and all of the trees and bushes looked the same to him.

Renwu chuckled at Lanyun’s many questions. “If I forget where I hid them, we can have you ask your fellow tree friends which one I placed it under. After all, didn’t you say before that trees can communicate with each other?”

“They can, but I can’t because I’m not a tree,” Lanyun said defensively. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember,” Renwu said reassuringly. He stood closely in front of Lanyun and lowered his voice. Shadows danced across his sharp features as the sun finished setting and twilight began. “But it’s now the perfect time to enter the spirit domain, so we have to go.”

Mesmerized by the ethereal appearance of the celestial in the dimming light, Lanyun stared into Renwu’s golden eyes. “Should I…eat a ghost mooncake?”  

Renwu laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “There’s no need to put yourself through such torture again. I know how unappetizing spirit food is for living humans. Instead, let me show you the powers of a celestial.” He held out his right hand. “Put your left hand on top.”

Lanyun placed his hand into Renwu’s palm as a tiny ball of water floated before his face. Renwu muttered under his breath in a language that Lanyun couldn’t understand. 

“Close your eyes,” Renwu said softly after finishing his incantation. 

 Heeding the celestial’s command, Lanyun obediently closed his eyes. He felt Renwu’s hand close around his own, holding onto it gently. Despite the bandages covering his palm, Lanyun felt the pricklish sensation again, and it traveled past his hand and into his chest, tickling his heart. Before he had a chance to wonder if he was suffering from a heart attack, a cool mist covered his face as he heard Renwu blow something in his direction. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Renwu’s voice sounded.

Their surroundings didn’t appear any different when Lanyun opened his eyes. Blinking slowly, he looked around in confusion. There weren’t any signs of spirits or ghost fire. 

“Are you sure it worked?” Lanyun asked in confusion. 

“Of course,” Renwu said, appearing slightly offended by Lanyun’s accusation. He pointed at the gap in the canopy above. “Look.”

Following the direction of Renwu’s finger, Lanyun looked up. His eyes widened at the sight. 

There were nine moons in the sky.