The past week and a half was grueling. It was filled with days of him listening to the complaints of the people who were impacted by the Death Hall mountain's ghosts, walking corpses, and other demons, while fending off the beasts at night. He had slayed walking corpses in the dozens at this point, and he laid more ghosts to rest than he banished them, but the very malicious ones had little chance to properly rest at peace. So, when a new cultivator, or at least he assumed he was a cultivator, waltzed into town during the thick of the activity, Shu Zhijing was a little suspicious. The man was nothing but polite and even helpful, but there was something odd about the man.
Shu Zhijing had finished another day placing protection talismans around the properties of those affected by the most malicious activities rather than those who were just irritated by being pestered by ghosts and whatnot. It was nearing the time he sought out Youzhou at the inn for supper, and so he headed back. When he entered the area, he saw that it was not going to just be him and Youzhou that day, but the cultivator from before was there with a teenage girl and a young boy. It was strange, but wandering cultivators also took children in, in fact, they often adopted orphans to give them some hope. It was quite respectable, even if they weren't with a proper sect, which should technically make Shu Zhijing dislike him.
He sat down beside the girl without much thought, and looked towards the man to speak, but the boy looked at him, and Shu Zhijing couldn't look away from his gaunt face. A face that he had known well, a face that used to be rounder, and a body that had been slightly smaller four years ago. That boy wasn't just some orphan, that was the boy he was looking for, Shu Xiaolin, his nephew. The gods above must have been blessing him for something he had done for this to have occurred. Shu Xiaolin leaned over the table, and Shu Zhijing easily picked him up to hold him properly, squeezing the crying boy against him as he too cried. In those moments, it was like the only people in the world were Shu Zhijing and Shu Xiaolin.
"Oh Xiaolin, where have you been?" Shu Zhijing whispered, his voice hoarse, so tight from his anxieties and his choking tears that he didn't trust himself to speak any louder. The cultivator from before cleared his throat, and Shu Zhijing's attention snapped to him like a predator waiting to strike. Did this man steal his nephew? Is he the one who kidnapped him? "And who are you? How did you find my zhizhi?"
"I found him in Wufatian about a week and a half ago, starving to death and about to be sacrificed to a death god by some bandits," the man said. Shu Zhijing cringed. His poor nephew had been through so much, and where had Shu Zhijing been? Out gallivanting around with Qiaondan, and taking care of his father, who had plenty of people who could have helped. He should have been out looking, he should have never stopped. He knew it was cowardly, but he turned to hide his face against his nephew as he continued to cry. He was a horrible uncle, the worst.
"I had a feeling he was from the Wood Sect, his last name is the same as the leading clan," Liu Liangzhe said. "But I assumed because he's mute, he was gone for a reason, so I was going to train him."
"Mute?" Shu Zhijing asked. "My zhizhi's not mute."
"Uh… yeah, you're right," Liu Liangzhe said, and Shu Zhijing felt some relief, despite his confusion as to why it was brought up. "He just doesn't have his tongue, but that sounds worse and you're already… fragile right now."
Shu Zhijing pulled away from Shu Xiaolin and held his chin as gently as he could with his shaking hands.
"Can I see?" he asked. "Open your mouth."
Shu Xiaolin did, and he was indeed missing his tongue. It was cut out, it looked like, with some sort of tool, because it was further than it could have been pulled, and the worst part was that it hadn't healed properly. Whoever stole him must have cut his tongue out. Why would they do such a thing? No, how could they do such a thing? Shu Xiaolin had only been four years old when he went missing, and despite being eight years old now, he still looked not much bigger than he had then.
He pushed Shu Xiaolin's mouth shut with a sigh.
"Who did this to you? Can you… can you write it for me, maybe?" Shu Zhijing asked. He had taught Shu Xiaolin a bit of words, mostly just enough to be able to write and read the characters around the Wood Sect's compound village. Shu Xiaolin nodded, and the girl pulled paper and a brush from her satchel. Perhaps they carried paper, brushes, and ink around for them specifically so Shu Xiaolin could speak. That was rather thoughtful, and it dissuaded him from thinking that these two were responsible for his silencing.
Shu Xiaolin accepted the paper and a brush and with mostly strong strokes, Xiaolin wrote three characters down, and as soon as Shu Zhijing saw them, he knew that his nephew was mistaken. There was no way that Shu Ganmao, Xiaolin's own father, was responsible for this tragedy.
"Are you sure?" he asked instead, not wanting to deny his nephew after finding him so quickly. Shu Xiaolin nodded his head and opened his mouth to make some sounds, all affirmative and positive sounding but without any actual meaning. The boy pointed at the paper again, smudging some of the ink. He made more desperate sounds as tears started to fill his eyes again. Shu Zhijing just stared at him some more while his nephew panicked. Shu Xiaolin picked up the brush again and flipped the page before he wrote down: FATHER, in two characters. He pointed to that again and then flipped the page before pointing at Shu Zhijing's brother's name.
"But why… Why did he do that to you? You're his only son. He loves you," Shu Zhijing argued, but it was weak, even to his own ears. It was known that Shu Ganmao had grown cruel, Shu Zhijing knew and experienced his cruelty firsthand, but to think that Shu Xiaolin had too? It was… it was wrong. What Shu Xiaolin was implying his father did was beyond wrong. If it were true, then Shu Ganmao was beyond any redemption and he must be brought to justice.
Shu Xiaolin let his tears run down his cheeks as he made insistent noises and poked at the writing he had done. Shu Zhijing held his hand as he jammed his finger into the paper with furious repetition.
"I believe you. Heavens, I believe you, A-Lin. But if he did this, then I don't understand why he asked me to find you. I don't understand why he has done many of the things he's done," Shu Zhijing admitted.
"Shu Ganmao is your brother?" the cultivator at the head of the table asked. Shu Zhijing rubbed Shu Xiaolin's back to help ease his hiccups. "I have no such relation, and I can take revenge on him for what he's done to A-Lin. He deserved none of that. He deserved to have his uncle love him. When I found him, he was not loved, he was barely alive."
"No," Shu Zhijing said. "I want revenge, too. It was my fault, it was… I trusted my brother, I thought he loved my nephew as much as I did, I still don't understand how it's not possible to love my sweet A-Lin… but, since you've been taking care of him, I'm sure we can work together to do what needs to be done. But I first have to help the people here. There are monsters coming from the caves that are harming these people."
"Before there were people here, this town belonged to the spirits that were forced into that mountain," the man said with a bit of thinly veiled anger, as if he were upset on behalf of the ghosts. Still, the man took a deep breath. "Let's eat something and we can discuss this more in the morning. I'm taking A-Lin with me, though."
"No, he's my nephew," Shu Zhijing said.
"And I've been caring for him for the past few weeks. I have a bed for him, I even bought him a new blanket," the man said.
"Can I… well, what if I came with you. I will stay with him," Shu Zhijing said, and he was horrified at his own forwardness as well, but he bit his lip in thought before he looked back at the cultivator, the one that looked and more importantly felt far more fierce than even Shu Zhijing, who was the prized disciple of his generation since his brother's personality-change, and it was a sort of feeling that made Shu Zhijing not want to make the man angry lest he do something Shu Zhijing couldn't fix.
Despite the fear that bubbled like acid inside of Shu Zhijing's chest, the cultivator just smiled at him.
"Alright, you can stay with us then," the man said with a slight tilt of his head. His sweet smile turned somewhat malicious as he added, "In the Death Hall Mountain."
"But--"
"I rule the Death Hall mountain," the man said. "Think about what that means for a moment, and remember that Shu Xiaolin will come to no harm by my hands. I just want to help him grow, because I know he has the potential for great things, same as my Mu Wen." As soon as the man stopped speaking, Shu Zhijing knew what the man had just told him. He knew that the man had just given himself an unorthodox introduction, but if this man was who he says he was, then unorthodox sums up his existence. The man must have been none other than the Diyu Lord.
Youzhou brought out a few trays of food not too much later after Shu Zhijing realised just who he was dining with. The man had no idea what it meant, but he took in him holding Shu Xiaolin with a weird expression before he sat down and allowed everyone to take what they wanted. There was tension between Shu Zhijing and the Diyu Lord, however, and Shu Zhijing wasn't sure if that would ever go away. He just knew that the man wasn't as cruel as he had heard the stories the village people spout about him if he was going through all this trouble to help a child that bore no relation to him and thus no responsibility.