White River City.
Judged by race and architecture alone, White River City was unlike any other city in the Tianhua Domain. It housed a broad mix of inhabitants — retired soldiers nursing old wounds, adventurers, traveling merchants, all manner of races — but the primary residents who had put down permanent roots here were the half-fishfolk, a people seldom encountered elsewhere in the Tianhua Domain.
Close to two hundred thousand of them formed the city’s original population.
Their history, it was said, stretched back thousands of years.
No one could say with any precision when it had begun, but the ancestors of these half-fishfolk had already been living here for longer than memory reached.
Divided across dozens of different clans and sects, White River City’s half-fishfolk natives all shared a remarkably consistent trait: the men were hideous, and the women were beautiful. Every male, regardless of which clan he came from, was strange-looking to the point of being difficult to look at — their features bore a strong resemblance to the fish, shrimp, and aquatic creatures of the deep, with whatever approached a human form severely diminished. The women were precisely the opposite. They carried almost none of the fish-and-creature characteristics, presenting bodies that were nearly fully human, their beauty made all the more striking by just the faintest touches of aquatic detail.
The city’s architecture was equally distinctive.
No one had ever quite worked out why these half-fishfolk were so devoted to metal and machinery.
Just as they held stubbornly to marrying only within their own people, these native half-fishfolk residents would sooner go without shelter than build a home from anything other than metal. Every shop or structure founded by half-fishfolk bore a name drawn from the world of metal and mechanism — the Iron Guild, the Gear Inn, the Bronze Gong Plaza, and so on in the same vein. In White River City, any establishment without a metal- or machine-related name was, without exception, the business of an outsider — some merchant house or immigrant from elsewhere.
White River City also had something found nowhere else: a rail tram, driven by mechanical puppets that the ancient half-fishfolk had begun building generations ago. It ran on a fixed schedule, stopping and starting at precise intervals, for the convenience of the native half-fishfolk population. Outside visitors and immigrants who wished to ride it needed a permit from the local half-fishfolk guild and were required to pay a fare.
Yue Yang was currently sitting aboard a four-car double-track ring-line tram… and seated beside him was Liuye, who was pressing her face toward the window at every new sight that caught her eye, which was more or less all of them.
As a properly-appointed guard captain and a properly-appointed attendant, Yue Yang and Liuye had just spent the morning representing their cover identity — the Titan Trading Company — in negotiations with the Silver Guild, one of the half-fishfolk’s three major trading houses, over a substantial deal in Spark-Flower ore. No transaction had been finalized yet, but given how poorly the half-fishfolk concealed their weakness for multi-colored gemstones, the deal was as good as done.
“Why don’t we take the rail tram back? It looks perfectly safe!” Liuye, in high spirits, had the idea before she could think better of it.
The Silver Guild’s negotiating representative was not about to disappoint a valued guest.
He dispatched someone at full speed to the Iron Guild to process proper registered travel passes for both Yue Yang and Liuye.
As he sent them off to board the tram, the courteous representative — a man named Sardin — shook Yue Yang’s hand with a parting remark:
“Honored Mr. Yue Yang, if not for this, we might never have learned either of your names!”
Yue Yang laughed at that with genuine warmth. “Mr. Sardin, as our business together develops, you’ll learn a great deal more about me.”
Gray Wolf, who had been dozing lazily at his master’s feet the entire time, chose this moment to lift his head and let out a small sound.
Seemingly protesting that everyone had forgotten about him.
That earned a laugh from everyone present.
The tram moved slowly but kept perfect time, stopping every five minutes at each designated platform for exactly thirty seconds, at which point the doors on both sides of the car slid open automatically for passengers to board or alight.
Yue Yang and Liuye were on their way back to their lodgings at the Iron Cross Hotel when, as the tram eased to a stop at a place called Bolt Station, a young woman in green boarded.
The moment she stepped on, both Yue Yang and Liuye noticed her.
Among fishfolk women, outright ugliness simply didn’t exist — every one of them was pleasant to look at, the least attractive still easily ranking above average. But neither Yue Yang nor Liuye had ever seen one quite like this.
The green-clad fishfolk woman carried a petal-shaped basket over one arm and carried herself in a soft cloud of fragrance. Her face needed no commentary — it was extraordinary by any measure. Her eyes were a deep sky blue, more vivid than any gemstone, and the effect of looking at her face — even for someone in the worst possible temper — was immediate: the irritation simply left, replaced by something lighter, something that wanted to smile. Her figure was equally arresting. Yue Yang had to make a conscious effort not to let his expression betray quite how interested he was, and even Liuye, who was hardly wanting in that department herself, felt a quiet, involuntary pang of inadequacy.
Her manner was elegant. She carried herself with a quality that was unmistakably refined.
She had a flower basket over her arm and looked, on the surface, like a girl selling flowers or running errands for her mother — but the impression she gave was nothing of the sort. From any angle, the basket felt entirely natural on her arm, the way a diamond ring rests in a princess’s palm — not a thing that needs justification.
“Hello. Safe travels to you.” The green-clad fishfolk woman settled gracefully into the seat across from Yue Yang and offered him a perfectly poised greeting — directed at a man who was, at that precise moment, looking her up and down with a degree of transparency that left nothing to interpretation. Following White River City custom, she was offering the polite welcome extended to visitors from elsewhere, and she showed no irritation whatsoever at the frankly impolite scrutiny. She seemed long accustomed to it. For Yue Yang, it was politeness; for Liuye’s more sisterly appraisal, it became warmth. The green-clad woman’s face broke into a smile of such quiet radiance that the flowers in her basket seemed momentarily outdone. She tilted that smile toward Liuye — who had been covertly measuring herself against this woman and losing — and said, in a voice as clear as a bell:
“And safe travels to you too, lovely Miss Liuye.”
“Oh — how do you know my name?” Liuye blinked.
“Because your name is written on your Iron Pass.” The green-clad woman’s smile widened.
“So it is.” Liuye lifted the small silver tag hanging at her neck, examined it, and found her name right there in neat characters. “Your eyes must be extraordinary. The writing is so small and you read it from across the car.”
“They are, actually. I had the best eyes of anyone I grew up with — I can spot a fish hiding ten meters underwater.” The green-clad woman laughed easily, and a conversation with Liuye took shape naturally from there. After a while, her large eyes drifted — with a certain deliberateness — toward Yue Yang, and she said with a smile, “Mr. Yue Yang is very mysterious. Why do you prefer to cover the upper half of your face with a silver mask? I apologize if that was too forward.”
“Not at all! I don’t have a single secret I wouldn’t share — especially not with someone beautiful. If it were possible, I’d want every beautiful woman in the world to know everything about me.” The moment Yue Yang opened his mouth, it was abundantly clear that no disguise in the world was going to conceal what he actually was.
“Mrrp!” Gray Wolf sat up with great dignity, chest out.
Nobody paid it any attention whatsoever, as was only appropriate for a creature of its spectacularly unimpressive cultivation level.
“Mr. Yue Yang, what a caring soul you are,” the green-clad woman said pleasantly.
Yue Yang quietly brought back the foot he’d been about to use on Gray Wolf, and laughed it off: “Of course — I am, without question, the most caring person in the Titan Trading Company. Don’t take my word for it. Ask anyone, as long as there’s no one else around.”
The green-clad woman found she had nothing to say to that.
“He’s always like this. Please don’t mind him,” Liuye said, hiding her smile behind her hand.
“He’s your— ah, Mr. Yue Yang is your teacher?” The woman looked genuinely surprised, her lips parting in a way that made a person think, quite involuntarily, about wanting to offer her something to eat.
That particular thought, of course, was Yue Yang’s alone.
Pure-hearted Liuye was having no such notions.
Liuye’s brow furrowed very slightly at the note of surprise. “Yes, my teacher. Not in a formal sense — no ceremony, no school hierarchy — but he is my teacher. Many things were taught to me by him personally, step by step.” She didn’t like anyone doubting Yue Yang, whoever they were. In her mind, Yue Yang was simply not a subject that admitted of uncertainty.
Yue Yang adopted the supremely self-satisfied air of a dedicated educator. “Nothing produces results like hands-on instruction. Ha!”
Hands-on instruction.
The green-clad woman’s mind made a brief, involuntary excursion toward some fairly vivid interpretations of that phrase. She glanced at Liuye’s guileless face, then back at this particular teacher and his thoroughly unconcealed nature, and again found she had nothing to say.
Her instincts were quick. She caught Liuye’s slight displeasure, apologized immediately, acknowledged that she should never have doubted so dedicated a teacher, added a few words of genuine admiration for how rare it was to find someone so young in a teaching role, and had Liuye smiling again within moments. Past that small interruption, the two of them resumed their earlier rhythm — chatting through clothes and into gemstones, from gemstones into marriage, from marriage into the shape of a life, back to marriage, back to gemstones, around again to clothes…
“Would you like to be our guide? Oh — I just realized I never asked your name!” Liuye caught herself. Yue Yang, listening, thought privately: you sweet thing, you’d help someone sell you and then count their money for them.
“My name is Qingping. I live in the Tin Quarter. Liuye, I enjoy talking with you very much, but if you genuinely want to hire a guide, you’d need to submit an application through the Iron Guild — and besides, I’ve never actually guided anyone before.”
“Experience is entirely optional,” Yue Yang said. “The main qualification for a guide is being easy on the eyes.”
“We just need someone who knows the city well — it doesn’t have to be professional,” Liuye added. “We’ll handle the application ourselves. Would you be willing to set aside your usual work for a day or two?”
She’d decided she’d much rather have a guide she could actually talk to. After yesterday’s escort — all smoothness and slipperiness, with those strange whip-like antennae on his head — Qingping was a considerable improvement.
“Double the usual rate,” Yue Yang said simply.
The financial argument landed without resistance.
“All right. If your application is approved by the guild.” Qingping felt the tram slowing and rose smoothly to her feet, waving to Liuye. “This is my stop. See you tomorrow, little sister!”
“What about me—” Yue Yang said, a note of urgency entering his voice. Was the beauty really going to leave without saying goodbye to him?
“You too, Mr. Yue Yang. See you tomorrow.” Qingping laughed and waved her free hand, stepping off the tram with the same light grace she’d carried throughout, and her silhouette vanished into the platform before long.
Liuye said very little for the rest of the ride, all the way back to the Iron Cross Hotel.
Just before she stepped into her room, she turned back and smiled at Yue Yang.
“How did I do today?”
Yue Yang reached over and ruffled the soft hair at the top of her head, giving her a slow, wordless thumbs up.
Liuye’s face went scarlet from ear to ear, a rush of warmth and fluster sending her straight into her room with the door shut behind her before she could embarrass herself further.
(End of Chapter)