26. Confrontations

"What are you doing?" In surprise, Liu watched as Xiang closed the door after Liu entered the room.

"Are you going to go out today?" Xiang asked inquiringly, without answering her question.

Liu shook her head. "No."

"Good."

Liu raised an eyebrow in wonder as Xiang pulled a chair and leaned it against the door. "Are you okay?" she asked, worried. "We have a key for the room."

"You never know," Xiang said and locked the door. Then he hobbled to the window and closed the shutters. Liu began to worry about his behavior. "Why are you closing the window? It's not cold."

Xiang tensed his shoulders so tightly that they began to tremble. Then he glared at her. "I'm just barricading us so nobody breaks in!"

"Who's going to break into our house? Nothing has happened all weeks. Why did you come up with such a thought right now?"

He turned to her harshly. "Who all came to the dump today, huh?"

Liu's eyes widened. Did Xiang really think, Shen would storm their room? She had hoped he would keep quiet until… But then another thought struck her. She looked at the egg, which was still lying on the blankets. "You think he..." She didn't want to say it. "I can't imagine that."

"I don't care what you imagine!" Xiang slapped the shutters with his feathered hand. "The windows will remain closed today!"

Liu let out a deep sigh. "As you wish."

"I know you may not like it..."

"It's okay, I get it," Liu relented. "But please calm down."

Xiang snorted. "How can I calm down now that he's near me again?!"

Liu looked at him for peace. "Even if it were, Yin-Yu certainly wouldn't approve. She would never consider killing a baby."

Xiang's expression darkened. "You forget that my ex-wife hates me."

Liu shook his head wistfully. "But only because she couldn't love you. She was already in love with another man before you were married. But she doesn't hate you... At most, she's very hurt because you didn't treat her well back then."

Xiang's feather comb began to tremble, but he controlled himself to deviate from the subject. "Whatever! But that doesn't change the fact."

"What fact?" Liu asked, even though she already knew what his answer would be.

"Same principle," he replied bitterly. "You kill my children, I kill yours."

Liu said nothing. Although she didn't believe Shen would do something like that, she didn't want to talk Xiang into it any longer. He wouldn't want to admit he was wrong anyway. The blue peacock narrowed his eyes and looked at Liu in punishment. At least she didn't argue, but went to the bathroom. "I'm getting ready for bed," she said calmly. "If you want me to put something on you to relax, let me know." With that, she left the room. On the one hand, she was disappointed by Xiang's distrust, but on the other hand, she was somehow relieved. Was he worried about the baby after all?

Xiang, meanwhile, stayed behind in the bedroom, putting on a scowl, his finger feathers digging into the wall where he was leaning on.

Just a few houses away, someone was also staring darkly ahead. Shen stood silently in the guest room, which was on the second floor, and looked out of the window with a stern expression. He listened up when he heard someone walking down the corridor towards him. When the person stood in the doorway, he didn't turn around, he just asked: "Did you know about this?"

Yin-Yu looked down. "Shen, they were just together, he never mentioned anything like that to me." Slowly, she walked towards him. "Zedong must have misunderstood something. He's still a child and doesn't know when it's really time to take this step."

She stretched out her wing to him. But before she could touch him, he grabbed her and held her in an iron grip. "I know, he wants to get married someday," Shen said with a pressed voice. "But not with anyone who has a connection to him." He narrowed his eyes before letting her go. "Who knows if she's even worth it."

"Just to be clear, she's a very nice girl," he suddenly heard Sheng's voice behind him.

Shen turned. His older son stood in the doorway and looked at him, partly hurt, partly forgiving. "We know each other for a few days," Sheng continued. "We haven't even talked about marriage yet."

Shen folded his wings. "Then why are you still with her?"

Sheng stamped his foot. "Why does everyone think I'm marrying her?! Can't I be with a girl like everyone else?!"

Shen looked down sternly. "Anyone, I don't care - but not with her."

The beak of the piebald peacock remained open for a short time. "Are you going to forbid me to do that now?"

Shen struggled with himself to answer and instead said, "You get married faster than you think. Especially when you're wealthy like you."

"Are you trying to accuse her of...?" Sheng didn't say it out loud, but he probably didn't even want to think it.

Fearing that things might escalate, Yin-Yu gently pushed Sheng aside. "Better we talk more about it tomorrow. Your father is just tired."

"Yin-Yu!" This time, Shen couldn't control his anger. Yin-Yu noticed this and quickly, she pushed Sheng out of the room. He ran loudly down the stairs to the outside.

"Why are you interfering?!" Shen scolded.

Yin-Yu took a deep breath. "Shen, I know what's on your mind..."

"You don't know anything!" he yelled. "Or do you think I'll just watch this fat panda marry into my family?"

Yin-Yu calmly raised her wings. "Shen, first of all, he's not marrying any of our children. He would only have an indirect family connection with us."

"That alone is bad enough!" Shen growled.

"But darling, it's not even sure if they're getting married. The two are just getting to know each other. Maybe nothing will come of it."

Shen let out a loud snort. "And how fast did that happen with us?"

"Shen, these two aren't living in exile like we were back then. It was quick for us, that's true. But did we have a better alternative then? We only had each other, and no one else wanted us in the outside world."

Shen avoided her gaze. "Do you regret it now?"

She searched for his eye contact. "And what about you? Don't we think the same? If so, then you know what I would say."

He sighed and stroked her cheek. But then he pulled his wing back again, but she held him tight.

"Come now," she said. "It's already late. Don't think about that today. Better focus on how you can help your brother first."

Shen made a face. "How am I supposed to help him? He doesn't even want me around."

She snuggled up to him. "All the more reason to sleep on it. The world will always look a little different tomorrow."

Shen conceded defeat. "Okay." Nevertheless, the topic from earlier was still not off the table for him.

Po leaned thoughtfully against a house wall somewhere in the village and was also brooding.

"Oh, Po, there you are," he heard Monkey's voice around the corner.

Po turned to his friends with a forced smile. "Oh, hey, guys. Nice to see you."

Viper looked down, embarrassed. "Uh, are you alright?"

Po scraped his foot across the floor. "Did you actually know about it?" he asked.

Mantis scratched his forehead. "So now…"

"That they are together, yes, we knew," Crane said quickly.

Po raised his eyebrows. "And not the other thing?"

Viper lowered her head and looked up at Tigress. But she just walked past her friends and headed towards the palace. "Actually, it's none of our business," she said firmly, giving Po a stern look. "And you better be careful."

Po looked at her in surprise. "How so? Because of Shen? But… Sheng said, he didn't talk about marriage…"

"Po!" Tigress cut him off. "The situation is tense enough. Better we make sure we come to the palace. Shifu definitely wants to see you there today."

Po swallowed hard. "Okay, then let's go for a little evening walk."

The other four friends gave Tigress a searching look. Was she serious, and did she consider it a private matter, or did she fear that Po's reckless behavior might make matters worse?

"I'll just let my dad know I won't be here tonight," Po said. "I mean, if that's okay."

Tigress nodded. "Go."

Po smiled at her gratefully and ran towards the restaurant.

The panda had almost reached his foster father's noodle restaurant when he almost collided with Dao. Po was just able to brake.

"Dao, what are you still doing here at this time?" he asked in surprise. "Aren't you tired yet?"

Dao snorted. "I'm always a bit restless in the evenings. Besides…" He paused. "Besides, I haven't been under the night sky for a long time."

Both looked up at the star-embroidered firmament.

As Po looked back down to the ground, he noticed that Dao had his katana around his hips. "Er, where are you going with this?"

Dao waved him off. "Don't worry. I don't slaughter anyone with it."

With these words, he walked past the unsettled panda. At first, Po wanted to hold him back, but then he bit his lip. What should he do? He had no reason to hurt anyone. Or is it?

"Uh, Dao? You're not going to visit your brother, are you?"

Dao turned to him suspiciously. "I just want to be alone. Do you mind now?"

"No, no, no," Po said. "If you don't have a problem, then I don't have a problem with that either. Everything's fine."

Dao didn't reply to this drivel, just turned his back on him. "I'm not a monster like him." Then he walked down the street. Po looked after him thoughtfully.

Mr. Ping was still in the kitchen doing the dishes.

"Dad?" Po began, poking his head around the door. "I'm staying at the palace tonight. Is that okay for you?"

"It's fine, Po," Mr. Ping said.

"Okay, well, see you tomorrow then. Good night!"

"Good night, Po."

Po turned and nearly collided with Pong. "Oh, I'm sorry. Good night, Pong."

Pong nodded. "Good night, Po."

As soon as the panda disappeared, Pong joined his brother. "Well, that was an eventful evening, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," Mr. Ping agreed monotonously.

"Well, most of them left very early, but you have to admit they liked the meal, right?"

"Yes, they did," Mr. Ping admitted through clenched teeth.

"Then it's pretty clear what we're going to do."

Mr. Ping briefly stopped cleaning. "To do what?"

"I'll leave you a few of my recipes and you can continue cooking them for the guests."

Mr. Ping's wings tensed. "I don't think father would have wanted that."

"Oh, come on, he's not here. Do you think, he would still mind?"

Mr. Ping glanced up at his father's portrait. "I don't remember him ever accepting your dishes. You haven't spoken to him since the argument either."

Pong jumped up. "Because he never wanted to talk to me! I've often offered to visit him. But he always refused."

"Yes," Mr. Ping said in a peeved undertone. "Because you never responded to his request never to put someone else's recipe in your wings again."

"What's so bad about trying out some new flavors?" Pong asked, hurt.

"Because we're noodle folk," Mr. Ping declared firmly. "We have been like this for many generations. And that shouldn't change either."

"I never said, we should give up eating noodles," Pong defended.

But Mr. Ping was not satisfied with this point of view. "But if the guests only like the new dishes, father always feared that they would reject the older dishes."

Pong drew his eyebrows together. "Listen, my restaurant also has noodles and they always take them."

"Nevertheless, I'll follow father's instructions," Mr. Ping decided. "Nothing will change on his menu."

Pong snort. "You are just like him. Stubborn and unimaginative. Even when you told dad about your idea of making tofu, he refused. And you gave in. And for the remaining years only cooked his menus. But now you have tofu on the menu."

"Tofu is something completely different from what you make," Mr. Ping taught him. "This curry alone. Wherever that comes from."

"A good friend always sends me this from India," Pong explained.

"India! There we have it!" Mr. Ping slammed a washed pot onto the table and gave his brother a stern look.

"Well, more precisely," Pong added, "I want to do something new even more. A trader from South America wants to get me some kind of potatoes, from which you could also make a lot of great things..."

"And that's against all tradition," Mr. Ping complained angrily.

"And there we have it again," Pong countered. "You really are just like father."

Mr. Ping made a beak. "Well, that's probably an exaggeration."

"Oh, really? Then be honest, when have you and father ever thanked me for helping you in the kitchen and taking the opportunity to cook a surprise meal?"

"Father didn't like that."

"However. And neither do you."

Mr. Ping winced a little. "I just stuck to the menu."

"Yes, yes," Pong sneered. "And have I ever heard a 'thank you, the meal was delicious'? I could never please our father!"

"Because you didn't stick to the menu!" Mr. Ping retorted loudly.

"What's wrong with trying something new? I don't want to displace the old recipes."

"And that brings us back to the original topic," Mr. Ping complained. "And to be honest, your new recipes are getting on my nerves." Pong looked like he was going to insult him at first, but Mr. Ping forestalled him. "When you left the restaurant that time, dad broke half his heart."

Mr. Ping hastily turned his back on his brother and looked up again at the picture of his father hanging on the kitchen wall. "Our poor father. How good that he no longer has to watch it today."

There was a moment of awkward silence in the kitchen, then Pong stamped his foot. "Maybe coming here was a mistake after all," he murmured grimly.

Slowly, Mr. Ping turned to him and they both stared at each other bitterly. "Maybe I should go back," Pong continued. "To go back where people appreciate my cuisine more."

With these words, Pong turned away and left the kitchen. Mr. Ping looked after him in shock. "Just like back then," he thought. "That's exactly how he left our restaurant back then."

"Okay, that's the last of it," Ling gasped, tossing a scroll onto the wheelbarrow in front of the house. They had spent the whole day turning the house upside down and transporting everything related to divination outside.

The old goat nodded and came out of the house with a lantern. Although the moon shone in the sky, she preferred to take a light with her on her way. "Okay, then we'll take things away from here."

Lin shrugged. "As you wish."

Together they pulled the little cart down the street.

"But where are we going now?" Ling wanted to know.

The old goat sighed. "We're going where it started. And where it should end."

They left the big city of Gongmen and went to the forest area. It was quite a while before Ling realized where they were now when he saw the first dilapidated huts. He was amazed that nobody had dared to live in the old panda village until today. For the residents, this place was a memorial, which constantly reminded them of the massacre of the white lord. Or they were just afraid of disturbing the peace of the dead people. They pushed the cart almost to the middle of the former village.

"Here's a good place," the old goat said when they stopped in front of a bare patch of meadow.

There, they dumped the entire contents of the cart. Then the goat opened the lantern and held the candle on a paper roll. Holding his breath, Ling watched as the small flame grew and spread all over the pile of papers and fortune-telling items.

Then the goat sat down on a large rock and stared into the flames.

"Just like when it happened," she murmured. "The same fire that extinguished everything here."

Ling lowered his gaze, then he joined his great-aunt, and both looked into the flaming inferno that was eating up more and more everything.