Cai rose from the base of the large cypress where he had been meditating with a soft sigh. The gnarled trunk was wide and strong, the branches that sprang from it thick and healthy, reaching out in all directions. A half day’s walk from the city of Bian Wei, it overlooked the river from an embankment surrounded by stones covered in moss and an assortment of prints along the ground representing the many creatures who frequented the relaxing location, be it for respite or a drink of the refreshing water nearby. The cypress had been rooted here for many generations, sustaining the environment, offering shelter, and now, served as Zhao-Fu’s eternal resting place. 

Turning to face the tree, Cai bowed his head and brought his right fist beneath his extended palm, thumb slightly tucked in as a symbol of utmost respect. [color=a0410d]“I hope this is an acceptable location for you, mentor.”[/color] 

After the night of the attack, it had taken over a day to locate an appropriate site to lay Zhao-Fu to rest, but Cai ultimately settled on this tree after recalling he and his late mentor had spent several nights beneath these very same limbs before securing housing in the city. They had fished along the adjacent bank, cooled their feet in the current, napped in the comforting shade offered by the wide-reaching branches.

“Trees are sanctuaries, Cai-Su, they give peace to the souls of Mokeu. Without them, we would quite literally be without our own roots. Strength and patience, endurance and growth. Much is there to learn in their silence. If you listen carefully and watch closely, you might come to understand these poems that Earth writes upon the sky.”

Zhao-Fu’s words from their time spent together in this now holy location rang in his ears as if his mentor had only just uttered them. Raising his head, Cai reached out his hand and lay it on the tree’s trunk with a quiet prayer before departing. The only thing indicating any external presence had been there was a single bottle of auburn liquid resting against the trunk. 

Days had passed since the attack on the city, and there was no apartment left for him to return to. He’d considered departing Bian Wei altogether, but death rites demanded recurring visits to the burial site for at least a month. After that, Cai would assess whether the commotion from the attack had calmed sufficiently to allow for comfortable travel between cities once more. 

Until then, he would fatten the coin purse tied to his waist. Undoubtably, many noblemen would be seeking out muscle to protect either themselves or their property during this time of upheaval. Perhaps one of them would welcome a Mokeu within their ranks.