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Chapter 10: The Boundary Village

  Humans, as a species, have developed countless methods to determine if something is amiss with a visitor to their settlements. Some cultures rely on elaborate greeting rituals that would expose imposters through missed ceremonial steps. Others depend on shared cultural references that outsiders would fail to recognize.

  A few simply set large dogs upon strangers and consider the matter settled if the visitor remains mostly intact afterward.

  Boundary Village employed all these methods simultaneously, with the additional security measure of having the oldest resident, a gentleman generously described as "weathered" rather than "partially mummified," squint suspiciously at newcomers while making cryptic pronouncements about the quality of their spiritual essence.

  Xiaolong's first experience with human settlement security came in the form of a particularly enthusiastic rooster that had apparently appointed itself guardian of the village gate.

  The bird, possessing all the territorial instinct of its species but none of the self-preservation typically found in creatures confronting apex predators, took one look at Xiaolong and decided that its life's purpose was to drive this interloper from its domain.

  The rooster charged, wings spread and hackles raised in what it clearly believed was a terrifying display of avian dominance.

  To a dragon who had faced cosmic entities in battle, the effect was approximately as intimidating as being threatened by a particularly aggressive dust bunny.

  Xiaolong's first instinct was to demonstrate proper cosmic hierarchy by reducing the feathered irritant to its component molecules. Fortunately, five millennia of diplomatic experience allowed her to recognize that disintegrating local wildlife might create an unfavorable first impression.

  Instead, she simply sidestepped the attack with minimized movement.

  The rooster, having committed fully to its charge, found itself confronting empty air where its target should have been. Its momentum carried it forward several more steps before it managed to halt, whirling around with beady-eyed indignation to locate its quarry.

  "The village watchman takes his duties seriously," Li Feng observed with quiet amusement.

  "This creature is a security measure?" Xiaolong asked, genuinely puzzled by the notion that anything might consider such a minor being a deterrent.

  "Old Jiang says Ferocious Wing has exceptional judgment of character. Anyone the rooster dislikes is invariably trouble."

  As if confirming this assessment, Ferocious Wing launched a second attack, this time aiming directly for Xiaolong's ankles with its spurred feet.

  She stepped aside once more, moving with a grace that would have impressed even the most accomplished human dancers.

  "He seems quite determined about his opinion of me," she noted dryly.

  "Unusual," Li Feng commented. "He typically greets sect members cordially."

  The rooster, now thoroughly committed to its vendetta, began a complex series of feints and charges that might have been impressive against a field mouse.

  Xiaolong found herself engaged in the absurd situation of a cosmic entity playing an elaborate game of avoidance with poultry.

  "Perhaps if I demonstrated proper respect?" she suggested, recalling that some lesser immortals could be appeased with appropriate acknowledgment of their territorial claims.

  Before Li Feng could respond, Xiaolong executed a formal bow of the type dragons used when acknowledging minor spirit guardians—a gesture that combined precise physical movement with a subtle spiritual emanation of superior power accepting the lesser being's ceremonial role.

  The effect was immediate and unexpected.

  Ferocious Wing froze mid-charge, its tiny avian brain apparently experiencing the spiritual equivalent of trying to process advanced theoretical mathematics. It stared at Xiaolong with sudden recognition of something far beyond its comprehension, then did the last thing anyone familiar with the belligerent bird would have expected.

  It kowtowed.

  The rooster pressed its feathered head to the ground in the universal posture of complete submission, wings spread in supplication, and remained there trembling.

  Li Feng's expression shifted from amusement to bewilderment.

  "I've known that bird for five years," he said slowly. "I've seen it challenge traveling martial masters and senior cultivators without hesitation. I've never seen it bow to anyone."

  Xiaolong realized her error immediately.

  In attempting to avoid one suspicious action, she had inadvertently performed something even more inexplicable. Domesticated animals weren't supposed to recognize spiritual hierarchy with such clarity—their consciousness was too limited for the subtle distinctions draconic emanations contained.

  "I have a way with animals," she improvised, striving for casual dismissal. "A minor talent, hardly worth mentioning."

  "A minor talent that reduces the most aggressive rooster in three counties to complete submission?" Li Feng's tone remained light, but his eyes had sharpened with that now-familiar perceptive interest. "You continue to be full of surprises, Xiaolong."

  She was saved from further explanation by the arrival of a wizened old man with a beard so long it appeared to be making a determined escape attempt from his face.

  He leaned heavily on a gnarled walking stick carved with water symbols, his rheumy eyes belying their apparent weakness by fixing on Xiaolong with laser-like intensity.

  "Elder Li returns to grace our humble village," the old man announced in a voice that somehow managed to be simultaneously creaky and resonant. "And he brings a most... unusual companion."

  "Old Man Zhao," Li Feng greeted with a respectful bow. "May the rivers flow clear and true for you."

  "Clear enough to see what stands before me," Zhao replied cryptically, his gaze never leaving Xiaolong. "Though what exactly that might be remains a puzzle."

  Xiaolong performed the Azure Waters Sect greeting bow Li Feng had taught her, executing it with perfect fluidity. "This humble cultivator greets the respected elder of Boundary Village."

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  Old Man Zhao's bushy eyebrows rose toward his nonexistent hairline. "Humble, is it? Like the mountain is humble because it doesn't mention its height to the valley?"

  The unexpectedly perceptive metaphor caught Xiaolong off-guard. This withered human husk somehow sensed aspects of her nature that should have been imperceptible to mortal awareness.

  "Some mountains are indeed more modest than others," she replied carefully.

  Zhao cackled, a sound like dry leaves being crushed underfoot. "And some dragons prefer playing in puddles to swimming in oceans, it seems."

  Li Feng glanced sharply between them, clearly missing the subtext but recognizing that something significant was passing between his companion and the village elder.

  "My friend Xiaolong seeks shelter and supplies as we journey to the sect," he interjected smoothly. "Is Madame Peng still taking boarders at her tea house?"

  "Always room for sect disciples," Zhao confirmed, finally shifting his penetrating gaze away from Xiaolong. "And their... companions. Though I suspect your friend might find our accommodations somewhat confining compared to her usual abode."

  With that cryptic statement, he turned and hobbled toward the village proper, pausing only to nudge the still-prostrate rooster with his walking stick. "Get up, you feathered fool. She's not going to eat you."

  The bird scrambled to its feet and scurried away, casting one last wide-eyed glance at Xiaolong before disappearing into the underbrush.

  "Old Man Zhao has always been eccentric," Li Feng offered as they followed the elder into the village. "He claims to have been struck by lightning while fishing during a spiritual convergence seventy years ago. Since then, he occasionally makes strange pronouncements that make sense only in retrospect."

  "How interesting," Xiaolong murmured, making a mental note to be exceptionally careful around the old human. He clearly possessed some form of spiritual perception that penetrated deeper than ordinary cultivator senses.

  Boundary Village itself proved to be a modest collection of wooden buildings arranged in a rough circle around a central well. Unlike the grand architectural statements of imperial cities or the elaborate sculptural quality of cultivation sect compounds, these structures were pragmatic to the point of austerity—function thoroughly dominating form.

  Yet Xiaolong found herself unexpectedly fascinated by the settlement's organic layout and the evidence of gradual, accretive growth.

  Dragons designed their lairs with precise cosmic geometries to enhance power flow and spiritual resonance. Humans, it seemed, simply built where it seemed convenient and then adapted to whatever awkward arrangements resulted.

  The village's few dozen residents paused in their evening activities to observe the newcomers with undisguised curiosity. Li Feng received respectful nods and occasional greetings, his status as an Azure Waters Sect disciple clearly earning him significant regard in this remote community.

  Xiaolong, however, was the subject of more intense scrutiny. Villagers studied her with expressions ranging from cautious interest to outright suspicion. Several made subtle warding gestures when they thought she wasn't looking.

  "They sense something unusual about me," she observed quietly.

  Li Feng nodded. "Boundary villagers develop sensitivity to spiritual anomalies. Living at the edge of normal and elevated spiritual territories creates a certain... awareness."

  "Will this be a problem?"

  "Not as long as you don't give them reason for concern." He gestured toward a two-story building at the village center. "That's Madame Peng's tea house. She provides the best accommodation in the village, though that's admittedly not saying much."

  The tea house was marginally more impressive than the surrounding buildings, with actual decorative elements carved into its wooden support posts and colorful lanterns hanging from its eaves.

  A painted sign proclaimed it "The Boundary Respite" in calligraphy that suggested the artist had been either spectacularly drunk or afflicted with a neurological condition affecting fine motor control.

  Before they could reach the establishment, their path was blocked by three children who appeared from nowhere with the sudden materialization skills unique to small humans. The oldest, a boy of perhaps ten years, stepped forward with ceremonial solemnity.

  "Elder Brother Li!" he exclaimed, performing an enthusiastic if technically flawed version of the sect greeting. "Have you returned to tell us more waterfall stories?"

  Li Feng's expression softened immediately, the formal cultivator demeanor giving way to genuine warmth. "Little Ding, you've grown at least three inches since I last saw you."

  The boy beamed with pride. "Four inches! And I can hold a water sphere for seven breaths now!"

  "Impressive progress," Li Feng acknowledged, ruffling the boy's hair with casual affection. "I'll share new waterfall tales later if Madame Peng permits a story session after dinner."

  The smallest child, a girl who appeared to be around five or six years old, had not joined in the enthusiastic greeting. Instead, she stood slightly apart, staring at Xiaolong with an intensity that would have been disconcerting even if directed at her true draconic form.

  Unlike the adults whose spiritual sensitivity manifested as vague unease, this child seemed to perceive Xiaolong with perfect clarity. Her small face registered neither fear nor awe, but rather the purest form of curiosity—the unfiltered wonder children sometimes exhibit before social conditioning teaches them proper restraint.

  "You're not human," the girl announced with the matter-of-fact directness unique to very young children.

  The statement, delivered loudly enough for nearby adults to hear, created an immediate hush in their vicinity. Xiaolong felt the collective attention of a dozen villagers suddenly focusing on her with renewed suspicion.

  Li Feng intervened smoothly. "Little Mei has an active imagination," he explained to the watching adults. "Last month she insisted the traveling herb merchant was actually a rabbit spirit."

  This explanation produced indulgent chuckles from the observers, diffusing the momentary tension. The adults returned to their activities, dismissing the child's pronouncement as fanciful invention.

  Little Mei, however, remained unswayed by this adult interpretation of her observation. She stepped closer to Xiaolong, head tilted back to maintain eye contact.

  "What are you really?" she asked in a lower voice, genuine curiosity rather than accusation coloring her tone.

  Xiaolong found herself momentarily at a loss.

  Dragons did not typically interact with human offspring—they were considered too insignificant to merit attention, like particularly mobile furniture. Yet this small human's direct perception posed a genuine threat to her disguise.

  She crouched down to the child's level, a movement that would have scandalized dragon society.

  Dragons never lowered themselves to address lesser beings—such actions violated fundamental hierarchical principles.

  "I'm a cultivator," Xiaolong said softly, the statement technically true if monumentally incomplete. "Like Elder Brother Li."

  Little Mei shook her head decisively. "No. You're something else. Something big pretending to be small."

  The perceptiveness of this assessment was so accurate that Xiaolong felt a momentary flicker of alarm. Before she could formulate a more convincing explanation, the girl continued.

  "It's okay. I won't tell." She leaned closer, cupping her hand beside her mouth in the universal childhood gesture of sharing secrets. "I talk to the mountain spirits too. They don't let grown-ups see them either."

  This unexpected solidarity—one secret-keeper to another—caught Xiaolong entirely off-guard. The child wasn't threatening exposure; she was offering alliance.

  "Thank you," Xiaolong replied gravely. "It's important that I appear as a normal cultivator while I'm here."

  Little Mei nodded with exaggerated seriousness. "I understand. Grown-ups get scared of things they don't understand." She extended one small hand. "I'm Mei. I can help you pretend to be human. I'm very good at pretending."

  Xiaolong found herself accepting the tiny hand before she'd fully processed the implications of this bizarre alliance. "I'm Xiaolong."

  "That's not your real name," Mei stated confidently. "But it's a good pretend name."

  Before this unnervingly perceptive conversation could continue, Li Feng gently interrupted. "We need to arrange accommodations, Little Mei. Perhaps you can speak with Xiaolong more at dinner?"

  The girl nodded solemnly. "I'll save you a seat," she promised Xiaolong. "And I'll tell you which foods people think are strange if you don't eat them."

  With that cryptic offer of cultural guidance, she skipped away, rejoining the other children who had already moved on to some incomprehensible game involving sticks and elaborate hopping patterns.

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