Heaven's Golden Finger - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Getting down the mountain took all Shirong's courage and trust in that damned Golden Finger he'd been given. If he was wrong, if Xu Shirong's memories were wrong, he'd probably wind up a large bloody splat at the bottom. But at least he'd be doing something other than getting that poor schmuck Shu Shun into deeper trouble than he already was.
It was a harrowing trip. He slipped dozens of times and yet, somehow, always managed to find another grip that'd let him get where he wanted to go. At least the Golden Finger wasn't pushing him back up into the sect so he could ruin someone's life. Whatever it was heaven's blessing meant for him, it couldn't force him to cooperate.
He wondered if there was an angel, or a spirit, or some fairy immortal watching him, cursing him for a fool and demanding he go back. Or was it that he was supposed to go this way and just thought he was doing the right thing. A man could tie himself in knots, trying to work such things out.
Besides, staying in the sect with Shu Shun glaring furiously at him every time they came into contact wasn't doing him any good. The one thing the Golden Finger couldn't give him, it seemed, was a friendly relationship with his Shixiong. Not when, apparently, Shu Shun was slated to fall to his antithetical bases and become the next Demon King.
It'd taken a careful examination of Xu Shirong's memories before Song Shirong took over that'd revealed that much. Old Shirong had been a nosy kid, always too sure of himself and a little spoiled because his parents were heroes who'd died protecting the sect. He'd gone poking around in Sect Master Qiong's things and found a scroll from the Sect Master's predecessor, one with two prophecies.
The first said Shirong was blessed by Heaven and Earth. That he'd bring forth a forest to restrain the rising of the Demon King. The second said the Demon King would rise from a burning lake to take vengeance on those who'd slighted his mother, and only the blessed one could subdue his rage.
Although the second prophecy named no names, it was obvious what that burning lake might represent; Shu Shun's bases of Lake and fire. Admittedly, no one at the sect had considered it until he'd formed his foundation, but Shirong was sure the Sect Master and the other elders anticipated Shu Shun's future. The fact that he and Shirong were always arguing likely didn't help.
Of course, old Shirong had figured it out as well. And as soon as he'd found out what Shu Shun's bases were, he'd set about making the poor boy's life as difficult as it could be. Plant a garden? Shirong would wreck it for him and accidentally find the gold pendant one of the Elders had lost. Study while eating? Shirong would spill his congee all over his notes. The list continued and it was obvious from old Shirong's memories that he'd gleefully entered into the game of tormenting Shixiong.
Even worse was the way everyone else - without knowing it - entered into the game as well. That gold pendant got Shu Shun blamed as a possible thief. The congee had spilled on an old and irreplaceable booklet. All in all, old Shirong was an absolute jerk. And all because he was convinced he was Heaven's Chosen and could do no wrong.
When Song Shirong had been in the hospital, waiting to either die or - vain and tiny hope - for a cure, his web novels had been the one bright spot in his life. It'd been fun, dreaming of cultivating, of riding a sword and chasing down villains.
But there was one type of web novel he'd grown less and less enamored of. The kind where the main character was given some magical skill or device that would allow them to grow exponentially faster than everyone else. It was unscientific. It was unbelievable. And, frankly, such characters were damned boring and - all too often - complete assholes.
Some weren't so bad. Some had the saving grace of a decent personality. The vast majority, however, were given to looking for and finding reasons to fight and viciously slaughter those who looked at them sideways. Admittedly, the author generally made the antagonists assholes in their own right, but somehow Shirong just couldn't help wondering if they all deserved being maimed, ripped apart or charred to a cinder.
The worst of it was old Shirong definitely fit the description of the cocksure Golden Finger protagonist picking a fight with someone just because they were slightly mean to them. As far as Shirong could tell from his predecessor's memories, Shu Shun's only 'crime' had been a driven need to succeed and a tendency to despise those who got ahead by sheer luck. Which, naturally, meant he couldn't possibly like someone as fortunate as old Shirong had been.
"Maybe it's just me," he muttered, walking as fast as he could down the trail at the mountain's base. "Maybe he deserves it after all?" Shu Shun might be about the best looking man he'd seen in forever but that didn't make him an innocent. He had been kicking Shirong earlier.
Thinking about it, though, old Shirong had been riding the man hard, giving him lip and boasting about how he was going to create a new and potent cultivation elixir, one based on the recipe he'd found previously and hidden in the cultivation chamber to study. The same recipe Shirong had found accidentally just hours earlier.
Combine that with his insistence on using their Shizun's best cauldron to refine the elixir and following everything up with blowing the damned thing to smithereens, and one might forgive Shu Shun for his loss of control. Well, mostly. A little.
Really, Shun had only started kicking when Shirong mistook him for a woman. A small, slight and rather pretty man wouldn't like that at all, especially when the other disciples tended to make fun of his delicate appearance. Shirong himself had been known to mince around behind his Shixiong when he thought Shun wouldn't notice.
In truth, old Shirong had been giving Shu Shun a terrible time of it. Nor was he doing it innocently. There'd been real spite there. A true desire to hurt. Worse, it seemed like everything he did just made Shu Shun's position with their Shizun and the sect elders less and less tenable. Sooner or later the poor idiot was going to break and end up turning to the dark side whether he wanted to or not.
And the effect hadn't been just old Shirong's intentional effort. Somehow every interaction seemed to lead to something worse. All of which confirmed Shirong's suspicion that Shu Shun was supposed to be the protagonist's foil, his great enemy, the obligatory disgruntled schoolmate whose hatred would lead him to fall into demonic ways and force the protagonist to kill, maim or imprison him for eternity.
"Nope. Not doing it. Not if I can avoid it."
"Not doing what, brat? Going home? Suits me, but Shizun disagrees." A powerful grip caught Shirong's wrist. Startled, he went off balance, reeling sideways. Automatically, he flung his arm around, caught hold of whatever he could grab. Then he stumbled, falling backwards and over the edge of the path, still clinging to Shu Shun's sleeve.
As they fell, he couldn't help reflecting that either his blessing or Shu Shun's curse was still fully operational. Whichever it was, he hoped they'd both survive.
It was Shirong who regained consciousness first, laying atop a soft and silky-haired surface. Gods. Did he manage to kill Shu Shun this time? A slight whimper and a fluttering breath relieved him. Not dead, but definitely injured. Shirong got up carefully, sat back and stared around.
The dim light made it difficult to see. Peering upwards, Shirong could see a thin line of white between two dark stone cliffs. There were bushes growing in the cliff-faces and he'd a vague memory of hitting each one as they'd gone down. Thinking about it, that was probably what'd saved them. At least he'd kept his grip on Shu Shun. He'd a feeling his Shixiong would have been in a worse state if he'd had to depend on his own foul luck.
There were faint glints of light around them. Some reflected from above, others from glowing insects and mushrooms. Blues, greens, even pinks. It'd be pretty, if he didn't know how much trouble they were in. "Shixiong? Shixiong? Please wake up."
Shu Shun moaned. Blinked. Growled a curse. "This is your fault," he managed to whisper.
"It is," Shirong admitted. "But maybe you shouldn't have grabbed me so hard?" That'd probably been the catalyst, this time. Whatever fate lay between them, it didn't permit Shu Shun any hope of damaging Shirong without consequence. "Is anything broken?"
The man stared at him blankly. "You admit it?"
"It's hard not to, Shixiong. I'd be fine if I'd fallen alone."
A sneer curled those elegant lips. "Arrogant."
"Honest." Shirong stood up. Gazed around. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
"I wonder how you managed to get Shizun's attention when you never managed to study."
Which meant this was a place old Shirong ought to have known about. He checked his memories. Sighed. "I don't know why he did, either. This disciple is ignorant and hopes his Shixiong will take pity and educate him."
Sitting up carefully, rubbing the back of his head and checking his ribs, Shu Shun explained, "This is an entrance to the Demon World. Leifeng Sect was built to guard it. Why do you think there are so many demon beasts in these mountains?"
The Demon World? Gods. Did that mean this really was Shu Shen's antagonist's luck at work? Was this the point in his life when he'd give up on his humanity, walk away from the sect and become a demon? And why, aside from his antithetical bases, did he have to? Just because fate chose him? The same way it seemed to have chosen Shirong?
"We have to get out of here."
"Do tell."
Shirong couldn't help it. That dry tone made him laugh, a response which caused Shu Shun to glare at him furiously. "This isn't a laughing matter."
It wasn't. But somehow Shu Shun's dour attitude in the face of danger helped Shirong's mood. "I'm sorry, Shixiong. I'm... a little scared." Tell the truth, he was a lot scared. Even knowing his Golden Finger would get him out of this fine and possibly stronger, he was scared. Besides, what price would Shu Shun pay for this little detour? "I shouldn't have dragged you down here."
"Then think about it, next time." Shu Shun stood. Swayed and fell straight into Shirong's arms. "Put me down."
"Can you stand on your own?"
"I...."
"Then I'd better not." Shirong picked him up easily. He was light, too light. A featherweight in Shirong's arms. Oh Gods. Am I in a danmei as well as everything else? Admittedly, if he could dispense with the Golden Finger and just be a normal cultivationist, he would have been perfectly fine with a boy love novel. Except, as things stood, this was looking to be a tragic danmei. One where Shu Shun wound up becoming what the prophecy intended for him and leaving Shirong with a broken heart.
"I say again. Put. Me. Down."
"Shixiong, I won't leave you here." A thought occurred to Shirong. It'd helped before. It might not save Shu Shun entirely, but if it could at least get them out safely and untainted by evil, that'd be good enough for him. "Heaven and Earth be my witness; your fate is my fate and I will not leave you."
"Are. You. An. Imbecile?"
Oh Gods. He's so cute when he's mad! It was an insulting thought to the poor man but it was so terribly true. Small, slight, with phoenix eyes and rounded cheeks, Shu Shun was startlingly pretty. Anger just made him look like a small child having a temper tantrum. A small child in elegant blue-white robes like a prince, that was.
Trying not to let his reaction show, Shirong said, "I probably am, Shixiong. But right now we have to get out of here and you're too injured to walk on your own." He scanned their surroundings again. Faltered. "Except, I don't know which way to go."
Before Shu Shun could respond, a voice whispered from the shadows. Mine. Mine. My blessing. My fate. Not your fate. Mine. Something moved in the darkness, billowing and shifting, stretching out bony hands of pure black smoke. Give it back!
The same voice had interrupted Shirong's meditations yesterday. The same voice, he was sure, that'd been deflected towards Shu Shun. And, he suspected, the old Shirong, or what was left of him.
Calmly, as calmly as he could, Shirong said, "Shixiong, can you climb?"