A Rude Awakening

There was a crash, a scream, a howl of terror mixed with pain, and a thud. The man at the inn counter looked up, startled, and the guests who were leaning over the counter talking to him jumped visibly as well.

Dao Ge set down his cup of tea guiltily. Somehow he had a bad feeling that the sounds had something to do with Little Brother Qing.

He slung his knife behind him and hurried up the stairs. As he pushed open the room doors a servant boy whose eyes were bulging with terror collided into him, practically falling into his arms.

"Save me, good sir," he wailed, clutching Dao Ge's shoulders and hiding behind him with a whimper.

Astonished, Dao Ge saw a pillow block on the floor, where it had apparently fallen after hitting the servant boy on the head. Some other objects had fallen off the shelf as well, where the boy had stumbled backwards and crashed into it. A basin of warm water was sitting on the table by the bed, with a clean wash cloth hanging over its rim. On the bed, amid a storm of rumpled blankets, Little Brother Qing sat bolt upright, wild-eyed and disheveled. He had both arms wrapped tightly around his chest and a look of both fear and ferocity on his face, hailing down curses and threats on the unfortunate servant boy.

"You worthless, stinking man-scum," he shouted breathlessly, "what did you try to do to me? You lecherous bastard, taking advantage of others! Just wait and see how I'll fix you, I'll cut off your ears, your hands, flay your skin off your bones--"

Dao Ge hurriedly pushed the bawling servant boy out of the room. "Calm down, brother, calm down. Nothing happened. The boy's just a servant here. You're at an inn. I brought you here after you got drunk last night. Had to carry you on my back like a trussed pig since you couldn't have walked on your own. You're safe. No one touched you or your belongings." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, adding wryly, "I know, because I sat up with you through the night. You were snoring so loudly I couldn't sleep if I tried."

There was a long, tense pause, while the sounds of the servant boy scrambling down the stairs lamenting could be heard in the background. Qing Xiong glared suspiciously at Dao Ge, looking around the room warily with heavy eyes still bleared from sleep. At last he slowly unwrapped his arms and sat straight, stiffly. "I see," he said flatly. The rigid lines of his shoulders relaxed slightly and he released a low breath.

Dao Ge shrugged. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically. "You'll have to give that boy some coins to stop him from making a fuss, though. The poor thing came in with a basin of warm water as I'd requested, and got knocked on the head with your pillow block in return. His teeth were chattering so hard I thought you had knocked them all loose in his head."

He glanced at his friend thoughtfully.

Qing Xiong pulled the blanket around himself, looking extremely uncomfortable, and sat huddled under the covers without saying anything.

Dao Ge took the washcloth from the basin on the table and threw it towards him. "Take it. Give your face a wipe with some warm water. I'll tell the kitchen to make a bowl of congee for you, it's best for hangovers."

Catching the washcloth, Qing Xiong stared at him, then at the basin, uncertainly. Dao Ge pursed his lips and hemmed. "Well, I'll go and finish my tea, and leave you to wash up," he said carefully. "I'll tell the servants not to disturb you, don't worry. Come downstairs when you're done."

There was another long pause, then "Thanks," in a small, grudging voice, so small he barely heard it. Qing Xiong turned away from him to face the wall, and one hand crept up self-consciously to brush back the loose strands of hair hanging about his face.

As he walked out of the room and shut the doors behind himself Dao Ge whistled softly to himself.

"Worse than I thought," he muttered weakly, rubbing his forehead. "The guts of that child frightens me. Now, what's a clumsy old thing like me going to do?"

He drank his tea with his brows knitted, looking unusually preoccupied, even though the servant boy was busy telling everyone about his close shave with death at the top of his lungs.

By the time he had finished his second cup of tea, there was a sudden lull in the background noise and he looked up to see Qing Xiong descending the staircase slowly, looking damp and neat with his hair smoothed back and his clothes shaken out, though his complexion was still rather gray.

The servant boy gulped nervously and his crowd of listeners retreated, giving Qing Di a wide berth as he approached Dao Ge's table.

Dao Ge used his foot to nudge out an empty chair. "Sit," he ordered. "Waiter, send the bowl of congee I ordered from the kitchen over here."

"I'm not hungry." Qing Xiong said, but his voice lacked the tang of sullenness.

Raising his eyebrows over the edge of his teacup, Dao Ge said sternly, "You'll eat the whole bowl whether you're hungry or not. After all that alcohol! And you didn't even have any food with it! Your stomach's empty as a bamboo. You'll feel better after you have something warm inside"

As a trembling waiter set down a steaming bowl in front of them he put a spoon into Qing Xiong's hand. "Now eat up. Talk afterwards."

Qing Xiong sat looking woodenly at the spoon in his hand, and the bowl of congee. After a while, he dipped his spoon into it and started eating quietly, head bowed over it.

Hiding behind his tea, Dao Ge watched on approvingly as the congee disappeared, and smiled to himself, pleased.