Waking up was a total pain. My long hair had wrapped itself around my neck in coils. I spent a while trying to untangle it against the edge of the bed, but it only grew more knotted and chaotic, so I eventually gave up.
Life was so arduous for the ancestors.
Porridge and side dishes were set out on the table. Their service awareness was top-notch; I gave them a silent five-star review in my head. After pushing half a bowl of porridge around, I set down my spoon and critiqued, "Not as tasty as yours yesterday."
The shadow guard looked at me with an unreadable expression.
"Allow me to assist Master with his morning ablutions." The shadow guard brought over a basin of water and wrung out a towel.
I cooperated fully, brushing aside my messy hair and tilting my face toward him. The sensation of the moist, warm water brushing over my skin was quite pleasant. The sticky residue around my mouth from yesterday was finally washed away, making me feel much better. So, a physical body requires daily cleaning; I made a mental note of this.
While my head was lowered, I noticed something dark on the shadow guard’s wrists. Streaks and spots of it mottled his hands, but where the water touched them, the substance dissolved, turning into a faint red that vanished into the basin.
Curious, I touched his hand. The shadow guard remained perfectly still, cooperating with my movements. As I wiped his skin with the water, the red, congealed clumps were gradually washed away, revealing a pair of pale, capable hands with long, elegant fingers.
"Aren't these actually quite nice-looking?" I asked, puzzled.
The shadow guard did not answer.
Once I let go, he took the towel back. Assuming he was finished with the morning routine, I asked expertly, "What do ordinary people do at this time of day?"
"They go to the market to trade, or they head to the fields to work."
Oh, the market! That sounded interesting. I stood up and said cheerfully, "Then let’s go!"
"Out... like this?" the shadow guard asked, his tone hesitant.
"Is something wrong?" I asked humbly.
The shadow guard shook his head firmly. "Master is, naturally... very good."
I smiled, satisfied, and headed out the door with a head of hair that looked like a bird's nest.
We made our way toward the market. It was crowded with people; the streets were a teeming mass of humanity and carriages. Donkeys, horses, and camels squeezed along the path right next to the pedestrians. It felt as though if I took one wrong step, I’d end up with a hoof print on my face.
I felt a bit panicked.
As we walked, a horse by the roadside was startled. It reared up on its hind legs, neighing incessantly. A girl selling flowers nearby recoiled in fear, knocking over a rouge stall and stepping on a butcher buying meat. Instantly, a chorus of curses erupted, sparking a minor commotion.
The shadow guard wordlessly nudged me two steps aside, ensuring I wasn't caught in the fray.
"I almost got hit... there are way too many people." Now I was even more panicked.
"I am here. Please rest easy, Master," the shadow guard replied steadily.
The shadow guard really was a good person.
He shielded me with meticulous care. Despite the crowded streets, the journey was safe; not even the hem of my robe was brushed. My heart felt much steadier, and my courage grew "fat." Whenever I saw an interesting shop, I dared to pop in for a look, touching this and pulling at that.
After wandering for a while, I spotted a blacksmith’s shop. The rhythmic *clink-clank* of metal striking metal drifted out, accompanied by waves of rolling heat.
My spirits lifted. In the ancient stories I’d read, heroes roaming the martial world always had legendary weapons. *The man lives as long as the blade; if the blade breaks, the man dies.* The names of the weapons always sounded so badass, and you could shout cool catchphrases when unleashing a finishing move. Looking at my empty hands, I felt a bit pathetic—this wasn't the style a Creator God should have.
I stepped happily into the shop and saw many iron tools displayed outside. I didn't see any cool-looking weapons, only a few short, rectangular knives.
I stood before the counter and examined them for a moment. Feeling adventurous, I picked one up. Seeing that the shadow guard didn't stop me, I assumed there was no danger.
I ran my finger along the heavy metal. The blade was cool to the touch and felt quite nice. The edge was polished to a bright sheen, reflecting light like a mirror. As my finger brushed over it, I could feel the ridges of my fingerprint bumping along the sharp edge.
I followed the motion and habitually pulled my hand back.
*Sshhhkt.*
"Aaaah! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—!"
A piercing pain shot through me, making my vision go dark. A long gash had opened on my finger, and bright red liquid came spurting out. The blacksmith's apprentices were so startled by my howl that they dropped their tools. The shadow guard froze for a split second before reacting, grabbing my hand.
I was grimacing in so much pain that I couldn't speak, my eyes rimmed with red as I looked at him.
The shadow guard pressed down on my wrist to hit an acupoint, slowing the blood flow. He quickly tore a strip of cloth from his own clothes, hesitated, threw it away, and instead tore a piece from my own robe to bind the finger.
Having a physical body is just the worst! Waaaah, it hurts so much!
He finished the treatment, but I couldn't calm down. It took me a long while to sniffle and demand, "Didn't you say you were going to protect me?!"
The shadow guard stared at me blankly for a long time before saying cautiously, "You did this yourself... I... this..." He paused and sighed. "This subordinate is incompetent. Please punish me, Master."
"It hurts so much, waaaah."
"...It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt... Stop crying, alright?" The shadow guard's tone was now tinged with helplessness.
Under the "look at this idiot" gazes of the bystanders, I was coaxed and led out of the shop by the shadow guard. I sat by the roadside, sniffling. After a while, the pain subsided enough for me to focus on the bandaged wound.
On the parts of my finger not covered by the bandage, the traces of bright red blood had now turned into a very familiar dark, blackish color.
I looked at the shadow guard’s arm, then at my own finger, pulling them together for a comparison. They were exactly the same.
I was struck with horror. "Is that blood on you?!"
"..."
The shadow guard’s expression was beyond words.
"Is it?! All this... and this... all this black gunk on you, is it all your blood?!"
"...Yes," he replied in a low voice.
No wonder the innkeeper could tell at a glance that he was heavily injured! Thinking about how much agony I was in from just this tiny little cut, while he was covered in countless wounds of all sizes yet still had to serve my food and wash me... I was suddenly flying into a rage. "And you said it didn't hurt?! Do you take me for a fool?!"
"...I am indeed starting to suspect you are one," the shadow guard muttered, frowning.
This fellow! He wasn't even using honorifics anymore; his disdain was palpable.
Hey! I’m just inexperienced, not low-IQ! You’ve only been using a physical body a few days longer than me, what are you acting so smug for? I hate people who show off their superiority the most!!
"Then what do we do now? Can you still walk? Does it hurt... bah, of course it hurts. What do we do?" I started pacing in circles, overcome with anxiety.
The shadow guard looked at me coolly, saying nothing.
In my era, if a physical body was damaged, you could contact maintenance for after-sales service. It seemed this era had something similar; I remembered they were called "doctors." I steadied myself and said to him, "Let's go find a doctor."
The shadow guard merely narrowed his eyes.
"You're in so much pain you can't move, right? Just wait here. I'll go find a doctor and bring them back." I patted his head and turned to walk away, but he followed me, swaying unsteadily.
I stopped him. "Behave."
The shadow guard went still.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
点穴 | Dianxue / Acupoint Pressing | A martial arts technique of applying pressure to specific points on the body to stop bleeding or immobilize.
大夫 | Doctor / Physician | Traditional term for a medical practitioner.
集市 | Market / Fair | A public gathering for buying and selling goods.
胭脂 | Rouge | Traditional cosmetic used for coloring lips or cheeks.
铁匠铺 | Blacksmith shop | A place where iron objects are forged.
