The Old Drunk and His Rice Wine

There's only ever been one kid that managed to land a hit on me. Not the one whose punch earned me my first trip to detention. He went down with one hit, that wimp.

It was a girl from middle school. Her face and name escaped me now, just that she spent every lunch break tending those stupid plants. Always cooing over them, giving them water and love or whatever. Everyone praised her when the vegetables grew huge and sweet.

Then one day her fist connected with my jaw out of nowhere. Caught me completely off guard. Why'd she hit me? Hell if I remember. Probably stepped on one of her precious plants or something equally stupid. Back then I pissed off so many people it all blurred together.

Before I could return the favor, a teacher spotted us. One look at sweet innocent plant girl versus the problem child and guess who got detention?

Never even got the chance to pay her back before I was expelled.

***

"YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT CHEAP SHOT, TEN!"

My own voice ripped through the quiet hut. I shot upright, fists already clenched, ready to throw down that bastard-

Empty room. Just me, four walls, and Peng in the corner.

I kicked the door open hard enough to make it bounce off the wall. Peng peng'ed behind me, but I was already storming down the dirt path. Villagers scattered like startled chickens, mothers yanking their kids out of my warpath. Good. Let them stare.

I reached Ten's hut and peered inside. Empty. But rustling sounds drifted from behind the hut.

If I couldn't beat her in a fair fight, I'd just have to get creative. She might have inhuman hearing, but even she couldn't see through walls. One good surprise attack was all I needed to get pay back for those words about Inorin.

I crept around the side of the hut, keeping my footsteps light. The rustling grew louder. Just a few more steps and-

"hic Ah, the sweet nectar of the gods..."

I froze. Uncle Huang sat sprawled against the back wall, a ceramic jar balanced precariously in his lap. His face had gone red, and he swayed slightly as he lifted the jar for another swig.

I glared at the old drunk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"WAH!" Uncle Huang jerked back, the jar slipping from his fingers. I dove forward and snatched it before it could shatter.

"Phew! You're a lifesaver!" He grabbed the jar back, hugging it. "Ten would've had my hide if I broke her wine jar"

"So you're just stealing her booze?"

"Hey now, stealings a harsh word." Uncle Huang wiggled a finger at me. "I helped grow every grain of rice that went into this wine. Been doing it for decades! A man's got rights to sample his own work, don't you think? Besides, we're breaking this out tomorrow for Kanon's coming-of-age anyway. What's one day early?"

"Nevermind that. Where is Ten anyway?"

"Off doing her 'important business.'" He made exaggerated air quotes. "Which means perfect chance to liberate some of this fine wine! Want a taste?"

"If Ten's not here, I'll just have to track her down myself."

"Find Ten? At this hour? In your state?"

A dull throb pulsed through my shoulder, making me wince. The rage that had carried me here, the burning need to make Ten eat her words about Inorin, started to fade. Without that anger masking it, every movement sent fresh waves of pain shooting down my arm.

"You know what'll make that pain go away?"

"Let me guess. The wine?"

"Ha!" He slapped his knee, nearly toppling over. "No no no! What you need is to talk about your feelings." He patted the dirt next to him.

I rolled my eyes but dropped down next to him anyway. The old drunk reminded me of Inorin when she got into the sake. Wouldn't shut up until she passed out. Might as well let him ramble for a few minutes.

"There we go!" Uncle Huang beamed like I just made his whole week. "Nothing beats good company and good wine!"

"You mean stolen wine."

"Borrowed! Indefinitely!" He took another swig. "So I heard you and our dear General had yourselves a little spat."

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know how it is." He waved vaguely at the village. "Mrs. Zhang tells her husband, who mentions it to the Mr. Chen, who gossips with the fishmonger's wife, and before you know it - hic - whole village knows you tried to punch a Heavenly General!"

"Yeah well, that arrogant bitch had no right talking about Inorin like she knew her."

"Ah, won't pretend I know what happened there." Uncle Huang raised his hands in surrender. "But Ten... she can get under your skin, piss off the wrong people, but deep down?" He tapped his chest. "That woman would bleed herself dry for this village. For any of us."

"Huh? That woman? You're telling me the same person who knocked me out cold actually gives a damn about anyone?"

Uncle Huang's weathered face crinkled into a smile. "Let me tell you how I know. You know about Lobak, right?"

I nodded, remembering Gran Gran's explanation about the life force flowing through everyone.

"Good." He took another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know, Ten's been watching over Huashan ever since the Ruins incident. You saw that place yesterday, didn't you? The destroyed village?"

My stomach twisted at the memory of those collapsed buildings, the emptiness where life should have been.

"That was us. This whole village, reduced to rubble and ash." His voice dropped, losing its drunken cheer. "After that nightmare, we had nothing. No food, no hope. Just empty bellies and desperate prayers. Then Ten arrived. Used her Lobak to make the rice grow again. Saved every last one of us from starving. But here's the kicker. That rice tasted like absolute shit. Trust me, I know. That garbage was all I had to eat as a kid. Might as well have been chewing on cardboard."

"So she saved you with terrible food? What a saint."

"Ah but that's where it gets interesting! Over the years, the rice got better. Sweeter. Richer. You tasted it yourself, didn't you?"

I had to admit, the rice had been surprisingly good, but-

"Maybe she just got better at using her power."

"No, no, you're not listening. Lobak extends from a person's deepest desire. It's pure, honest. Can't fake it, can't force it. Ten's rice improved because her desire to care for us grew stronger. Lobak doesn't lie girl. That's how I know Ten's intentions are genuine. Every grain of rice we eat is proof of her love for us."

I stared at the empty jar, Uncle Huang's words bouncing around my skull. Then what could make someone like Ten, someone who poured her heart into every grain of rice, hate Inorin with such burning intensity?

A soft snore broke through my thoughts. Uncle Huang had slumped over, his head against the ceramic jar. He looked peaceful despite the awkward angle.

"Seriously?" I muttered, reaching for his arm.

The old drunk was heavier than he looked. As I hauled him away from Ten's stash, one last thought popped up. If this really was Daikon, with its famous AI that could learn and grow... could a boss character like Ten evolve beyond being an evil final boss? Could she have actual reasons, actual feelings behind her hatred?

Uncle Huang mumbled something about rice wine as I propped him against the wall. I grabbed the jar, planning to hide it before Ten returned. The jar felt heavy in my hands. As heavy as my questions without answers.