A Daily Life of a Fire Dragon

1.Temple Dragon

“Fishing is boring,” he mumbles for the tenth time. He hasn’t caught anything worthwhile. The two small fish in his bucket are no less than an appetiser. But the view is priceless.The village girls on the other side of the river are frolicking and playing while washing clothes. One stands out from the group, though. She keeps on the fringes, diligently doing her duty, and only occasionally splashing the others. Is she too shy to play? He’s been watching this group for years. The core of them is still the same, even though some grew up and even got married. But he can’t figure that delicate little flower out.

Her skin is pale even with all the work she does outside. The long dark hair shimmers in the light whenever she turns her head. But the most astonishing thing is her eyes. Dark lashes frame a pair of almost black orbs. In her pale face, her eyes stand out even more. There are no other marks on her face. Not one beauty mark, or flaw. She looks like a princess among the village girls. As a dragon, he has no trouble seeing even the finest details of her face from this distance. This girl always looks sad. There is no light in her eyes, even when she smiles. That smile will be his downfall if it’s ever directed at him. But, they have yet to meet. She never comes to the temple, and he rarely ventures into the village.

The monks would make fun of him if they ever knew his obsession with a simple farmer’s daughter. The girl is a mortal, and he’s a thousand year old dragon. He’s visiting them only for the massive library the temple leaders have amassed over the years. Ever since he could take human form, he does this. When he’s done with the books, he moves on to the next temple. In search of more cultivation techniques and knowledge, he has seen most of Yunmeng already. Is it time to move on? The Lan clan of Gusu has a library that is said to hold some of the rarest books in existence. But, even with a recommendation from Master Ling, he might not get in. They are extremely picky as to who can visit there.

“If you would pay more attention to fishing, than you do to those girls over there, we might have fish for dinner,” Master Ling’s voice sounds amused, not angry.

“Were you expecting fish?” Shi Lang asks.

“Not really, but a change would have been nice,” Master Ling muses.

“Don’t worry. I’m just watching. I have no intention of approaching them,” he states. Why does he have the need to explain himself? He never does that for anyone. But, there is just something about Master Ling that makes him speak his mind.

“Well, they’re gone now,” Master Ling chuckles. The old temple master is mischievous by nature, but he only teases Shi Lang. He never does anything to compromise their friendship.

Since it’s just the two of them, and Master Ling has a craving for fish, Shi Lang makes an exception. He snaps his fingers and a net full of fish appears in his hands. Magic is easy for him at this stage. There is hardly anything he can’t do. The only limit is his own consciousness. And there is a certain level of satisfaction when one does something by hand. Fishing is not his forte, but it was a nice excuse to spend the day in the sun. Master Ling was complaining that he spends all his time cooped up inside the library. Maybe that is just his covert approach to making Shi Lang stay longer? They first met when Master Ling was just a novice. It’s been decades since he last visited.

The temple has changed in the years he was away. Shi Lang has to say that the change happened for the better. The monks work hard on their cultivation. They are still far away from immortality, but their martial arts have greatly improved. He looks over at Master Ling with a smile. They have managed to curb the ageing, too. His friend is well over seventy, but he doesn’t look a day over forty. The other change is the garden. The fruit trees and artfully arranged paths are a delight to see. He might take a book out to sit in the pavilion while he reads. That might be the plan for tomorrow. They have some festival that needs Master Ling’s attention, but Shi Lang has no desire to be in the centre of attention.

“Will you really stay away from the festival?” Master Ling inquires when they come back to the temple entrance. “She might be here, you know?”

“Even if she is? What does it have to do with me?” He wonders. Watching the girl, and actually talking with her are two very different things. “You know I don’t like crowds.”

“I can send her your way. The garden is off limits to visitors, so it will be empty,” Master Ling winks. For a monk, the guy is pretty open minded. Is he setting him up with a girl?

“Whatever,” Shi Lang shrugs. He thrusts the net with fish to a novice in passing. The guy looks at him suspiciously, but remains quiet. The fish seem to be foreign objects to him.

“Take those to the kitchen. I want fish for dinner,” Master Ling orders. He grumbles under his breath, so the other monk couldn’t hear him: “I don’t understand why they treat you like that? You never hurt anyone.”

“They are scared,” Shi Lang answers. “I can smell their fear. That is why I only observe and never take part in the training. But I do wonder if any of them could stand up to me?”

“I’ll get a challenge organised for you after the festival,” Master Ling smiles. “I can order them to try it.”

“Do you want them to resent you?” Shi Lang chuckles.

“I just want them to let go of their pettiness and treat you nicely. Why can they do it with the village people, but not with you?” Master Ling shakes his head. The old monk is seriously flustered about this, but Shi Lang doesn’t care about such things. He knows he’s different. He takes pride in it.

“Don’t bother. I will be gone soon,” he answers. His mind is all made up about it. The plan is to try and get access to the Lan library.

“You’re leaving so soon? Why?” Master Ling sputters.

“To attempt the impossible,” Shi Lang smiles. He’s confident about his old friend. Master Ling won’t take his smile the wrong way, or fall for his charm. “To strive for knowledge, to reach new heights. For books, what else?”

“I can write a letter for Grand Master Lan. If nothing else, your excellent calligraphy might spike his interest,” Master Ling nods. “Just stay for the festival.”

“Fine. I’ll stay,” he sighs. Was he just played? What did he agree to?

Some time later he sits quietly in his own room, reading. The book on archery might be boring to most people, but he likes the way the author made it sound romantic somehow. The loving descriptions of the various bows and techniques draws him in. The drawings are so realistic he can practically touch the bows. A soft knock on his door is all the sound he hears. Nobody ever steps foot inside. Just another indicator to him that everyone here is afraid of him. He gets up to open the door. A young boy with a tray of food stands there, trembling slightly.

“Thank you,” Shi Lang bows his head before he takes the tray. He never eats with the monks in the great hall. It’s too crowded and loud for his taste. He feels almost sorry for the kitchen boy that is tasked with delivering his food every day. His room is so far away from the kitchen that the village might be closer. It would certainly be preferred. He smiles at his own thoughts. Maybe he should visit the great hall for just one meal? It would cause panic and anguish. Fear is his favourite food after all.