Yellow Wind Sage Yaoguai Kings
Description
Firelight flickered over a table laden with food and drink.
The Second Prince of Flowing Sands, sitting on the table, gnawed on what might have been half a haunch with relish.
The King of Flowing Sands sat beside his son obediently. As someone who typically delighted in pointing out the missteps of others, he remained oddly silent during the feast.
Even the Tiger Vanguard was on his best behavior. Watching the dimwit across from him gorging on the haunch, the tiger seemed to have no appetite.
The Yellow Wind Sage sat in the place of honor, one hand caressing the object resting on the table: the head of a bodhisattva with eyes closed in silence.
“Pa, I need more.” The sudden shout from the Second Prince set all hearts hammering. His pa, the King of Flowing Sands, glowered and hissed, “Shut it!” Then he scrambled to his knees and pleaded for forgiveness.
“A trifle, is all.” The Yellow Wind Sage rested his hand atop the head of Lingji, then stood. “With my master’s most prized vessel in my grasp, I can surely absorb that thing. I mean to enter secluded meditation, starting today. I have appeased those old rascals from above, yet it will be wise remain discreet”
“If you’re seeking seclusion, Master,” fawned the King of Flowing Sands, “my people and I would be honored to camp outside the cave and stand guard beside you.”
“Beside me?” The Sage gazed at his master’s head and rejected his offer immediatly. “No, you will move to the ridge. I will be setting the Yellow Wind Formation. Let no one disturb me.”
“If…if there is urgent news, Master, how shall we bear it unto you?” The King cried out.
The Yellow Wind pointed at the Tiger Vanguard. “Have your rock brothers raise paths of sand, each with a gate locked by a secret tally. You two vanguards will each hold a tally…”
Before Tiger Vanguard knelt to thank the Sage for this weighty charge, the King interjected anxiously: “But Master! We rats have never gotten along with those cats. If they hold the…”
The Yellow Wind Sage didn’t want to listen at all. He picked up the Buddha head and interrupted, “All of you, withdraw. Do not disturb me until the very sky collapses.”
Poetry
Endless yellow winds, sands stretch afar,
In the land once abundant, no homes there are.
Half-guai, half-immortal, who can decide?
Thief or sage, why would he mind?
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