The moment he woke up, he screamed.
In his defense, he had found himself in a furnace that was literally roaring in his ears.
His disconcertion was further provoked by the hand sticking through the door of the furnace, seemingly untouched by the sweltering heat or that he was going through a solid object.
"Oh must I tell you each step? Hurry up and take my hand!" Nonplussed, he obediently took it, only to be whisked through several peach trees before landing in an open field.
As he stood shivering in the suddenly cold environment, the person sighed and muttered something as he took out a writing brush.
"Hold still." He watched as the man slowly painted a word on his skin. 光 (Guang). A character that represented light, and radiance. Hardly used to describe someone like him.
Once, but not anymore.
"This would be your new name from now on!" He nervously rubbed the new word, as he looked at the person who had named him.
He watched as his lord- for that was what the man was now- turn on his heel away from the cries of those who asked for his help.
"Please help us!" The family cried, as its head kowtowed before him. Their clothes were made from silk brocade (1) but was nearly worn through with wear and tear. Their eyes were filled with fear, akin to cornered prey. They were helpless in every sense of the word.
He shouldn't do anything. He's not a god. He's the lowest of them all. (2)
I swear to always look after your interests and hold your father dear... This is my duty: to repay the Late Emperor's kindness and to display my loyalty to Your Majesty...
He stops, and motions to the tired, weakened family. He's made a promise after all.
His lord glances at him with indifference.
"Come to my temple. Hide." His throat feels rough, his words shaky, and his tongue thick with emotion he can't explain.
The smiles that lit up the faces of his new followers, nay worshippers easily made up for the distress he feels. His lord is still watching. But for the first time, he has acted on his own will. He can't decide whether to be proud or not.
His lord no no where is he? calls for him. He rushes to his aid, wary of the beasts that prowl about this mountain, only to find himself in front of a grove of trees.
"This shall be your home." Guang stares at the cleared land in bewilderment. Half hidden by the peach trees is a temple, newly built. However, he can feel the loneliness emanating from the building. He hears the squeaking rats, the wind rushing through empty alcoves and the whistles commonly associated with cemeteries. Despondence permeates the atmosphere, giving it a desolate feeling.
Home? He whispers, fingers coming away with a thick layer of dust. Home is-warm; gratified hands, river rushing through a deep valley, loud excited voices thronging the air-
A quiet hut, with low voices speaking of ambition. Whispers filled with hidden emotions. A map of the world.
Home is where lies the people he cares about. But where are they? He sees the empty temple, and wonders.
Occassionally, they get visitors. They stay at the inn, drink at the tavern and feast on the assorted peach and plum derived dishes. They offer incense at his temple as well, though all he really needs is a gentle reminder that he exists. Sometimes, when he is in the mood, he drops in mid-prayer.
One such person is an old gentlemen, who arrives five years after the Taos （桃） and three years before the Lis (李）. He weeps upon seeing the peach trees surrounding his temple, and cries even more when he encounters the head of the Tao clan.
"My son..." They wrap arms around each other, begging forgiveness and compassion. They share the same noble countenance, but while the elder looked as though he had never stepped out of the city, the younger clan head had been busy maintaining the peach groves and vegetable farms that his family owns. One has soft hands with a callus formed from brush holding. The other has rough hands borne from years of work in the fields.
He steps towards them, intending to have a closer look. The two separate quickly upon seeing his footsteps. The older gentleman looks up and falls to his knees, tugging on the red and white robes he had decided to wear.
He whispers three words, over and over, but Guang refuses to identify the words. Instead, he kneels, pulling the older gentleman up with him.
The older gentleman notices the word carved in ink upon his body. He quirks a smile, and thanks both the Tao clan head and him. It would be the last time the two saw him. He's returning to the capital after this trip permanently; he had taken a risk by coming here so soon after the Regent's death, but the look in his eyes tells Guang that this experience was worth climbing up the mountain.
Warm gratified hands enclose his once more-but they are not the same.
His home starts to fill with people. The head of the first family he picks up settles and changes his name to Tao, after the peach trees that surround the temple. Then, the Lis, this time after the plum tree half a mile away from his temple. Then the Lu, Jiang and Zhang clans move in, the social upheaval in the country tearing their hometowns apart.
The Zhang set up a butcher shop attached to an inn. He finds that particularly amusing for a reason he can't remember. He suggests that they set up a tavern as well, selling wine made from the peaches that reach the land they chose.
The Taos, now numbering over thirty diversify into making carts, hoes and cooperating with the Jiang in making tools. The Li find their ideas amusing, and invest in them. They've made profits from the sale of their plum wine and other derived products. They become merchants who travel around the nearby villages, and attribute their rapidly rising star to him.
The older gentleman dies in the capital, three years after his trip. The Li are competent information gatherers after all.
Before he knows it, his temple has become the centre of a bustling mountain village. The blessed soil has allowed crops to grow beautifully year in and year out. The seclusion of being located on a mountain has prevented them from suffering the social upheaval that has spread throughout the country. The groves of peach trees have ensured that news of the village does not get out to any enterprising government official.
His temple itself has changed. Filled with devotees, it becomes the landmark of the surrounding area. In return for the no longer empty antechambers and the central room filled with incense, he does his best to provide a thick fog surrounding the mountain, hiding human activity.
Meanwhile, the village expands.
1. Silk brocade-Silk was one of China's three top inventions. Here, I was specifically hinting to the background of the Tao clan. They are rich enough to be wearing brocade, which is heavily embroidered silk and thus very expensive
2. Lowest of the low—Guang is a Chinese ghost. He does not haunt others. Instead, he feeds on sacrifices and looks after the village in exchange—he acts as the land god of the village even when his status is a ghost. More on that later.