#no im not procrastinating on inventing salvation why do you ask

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Wu Yanzi has taken a dangerous job. Shen Jiu is sure of it.

It's the only time his 'benevolent' Shifu ever ensures he's prepared. Most jobs he doesn't even speak to Shen Jiu, simply giving him a quick glance to ensure he was following like an obedient dog.

Today Wu Yanzi ensured all of his supplies were full, all the knives sharpened, the blades and needles dipped in their worst poison, and, most damningly, he checked in on Shen Jiu's health.

Shen Jiu was tempted to fabricate some sort of illness just to observe the man's reaction. He didn't, in the end, his caution winning over his curiosity as it was oft to do nowadays.

"Shifu" Began Shen Jiu, "What's this job about? Who's the target?"

Wu Yanzi, with his shadowed appearance and scoundrelly demeanor, cradled his liquor, and looked down into the liquid pensively. The hairs on the back of Shen Jiu's neck raised further; Wu Yanzi in an introspective mood meant danger. The renegade Shen Jiu called Shifu barreled into most situations without a second thought, the man gifted in the art of survival to a degree that made him look reckless. Imagine how surprising it was for Shen Jiu to learn how calculating the man was. For him to take the time to carefully consider, to prepare? If the precariousness of the job was to the point Shifu stepped carefully, it meant Shen Jiu could very well perish. He had no delusions about the value of his life in the eyes of his master. If it benefited the man more to complete this job, even at the expense of Shen Jiu, his student, he would pay unflinchingly. Wu Yanzi left his seat at the dim, gritty bar, and motioned Shen Jiu to follow him to the inn they were bunking in.

When inside the spartan room, Wu Yanzi threw silencing talismans on every wall. "Shifu?" Shen Jiu said questioningly. "Listen kid, this one is big. And high-profile. It's the head disciple of one of the big four. Yue Qingyuan is the name, and he already has folktales about his power, his exploits, his virtue." Wu Yanzi's voice was low, and intense. His gaze pinned Shen Jiu to the spot. "There will not be a single misstep, not one."

Shen Jiu bent at the waist, his murmur of 'Yes Shifu' tinged with a sincerity, and obedience, the youth rarely felt. Destruction nipped at his heels, and he felt the familiar inferno's heat on his back as his Shifu took the time to teach him, perfect his stances, even his manners. He could almost smell the acrid smoke as his part in the plot, the assassination, was revealed. The possibility of death lit his nerves on fire, the thrill, the adrenaline blazing through him like molten mercury. Shen Jiu wasn't sure if it was just part of who he was, or if it was through his up-bringing, but the charge that brushes with mortality brought him were as addicting as the liquor and women his Shifu was a slave to. It was the true reason he kept to the side of Wu Yanzi. Shen Jiu had learned enough that he was confident in his ability to thrive without the man, and it wasn't as if Shen Jiu was particularly endeared to him. Wu Yanzi didn't afford Shen Jiu any sort of guarantee of safety either, their mere association endangering Shen Jiu. muchless so protecting him. However, in the roaring aftermath of slaughter, as Shen Jiu stood in front of his masterpiece of wrath and vengeance, as his blood still sung for violence, as his hands itched for destruction, a hunger was stoked within him. It was the type of hunger that came after starvation, unholy, ravenous, consuming the host as it consumes the world. Death had chased him for so long, to the point where Shen Jiu became addicted to the chase. Shen Jiu just didn’t like seeking the brush of death on his own. It grated against his higher faculties. He could justify his discipleship to Wu Yanzi though. It did benefit him. So master and disciple used each other to chase their own highs, the knowledge of the dance unspoken between them. The arrangement would work until it didn’t, and whoever was faster to draw was the one who would walk away. It was with this mindset that Shen Jiu walked into Cang Qiong’s Qiong Ding Peak, his footsteps silent, the night heavy, and his blood singing.