— The Emperor’s Imperial Record, Entry No. 31 —

  Azul breathed in.

  The fumes of alcohol and the sweat and makeup of the bar ladies infusing his chest as he downed another mug of liquor.

  If you looked in from outside, you could see the jostling about of barmaids and merry singing of drunken friends arm in arm. Every now and then, you would see a man sneak off to the outside, under some dim lighting, and ease himself onto the wall.

  This was Orient. The bar that the servants of the nobles and even some merchants frequented every evening, where the chill night air danced with the heat of the alcohol.

  Azul smiled and ordered another beer, making sure to direct his order to a bar lady he had singled out. She was giving him ‘the eyes’.

  The bar floor was fashioned from polished cedar wood, with actual glass instead of the chipped wooden jars other establishments used for mugs. The ladies here were all a cut above the rest.

  Azul sighed to himself. This had been 20 years in the making. He had toiled for a full decade as an apprentice to one of the best tanners he could find, then spent years making sure he could get his wares to all the rich and important people he found, tying his name to their pockets.

  A few times, he had gotten to the verge of bankruptcy, but now he was here. In only a few years, maybe he’d be able to marry into a noble family. He laughed, but dreamers could dream.

  That was his life plan, from peasant to noble.

  The pretty lady with the straight brown hair brought him his liquor, making sure to leave a small kiss on the lips of the mug. Her strawberry lipstick left a heart-shaped print on both sides of the glass. She winked at him and went back to serving the other guys at their tables. With the same idle wink.

  Azul grinned. She definitely wanted him.

  He looked down at the pouch at his waist and smiled. ‘So much money!’

  ‘Heh heh, that boy Khan is really too naive. How can I let so much money cross my hands without taking my cut?’ He held the pouch in his hands, tossing it up slightly so it could come down into his chemically darkened palms. They jingled as their weight clacked in that sonorous way only money could.

  “Waitress. Another round of drinks!” and she obliged. A different girl this time. Azul was beginning to not notice.

  Gradually getting more and more drunk. Soon, a bard set up in the middle of the room.

  He wore a long robe, with sleeves of yellow and blue, and a long hat, with what he called phoenix feathers coming out, although everyone knew they were only the painted feathers of the neighborhood chickens. His moustache was two downward-slanting lines that curved into a ridiculously large circle at either end.

  It was one of the highlights of coming to this establishment. The bard would sing, and tell a story he had heard about on his travels… an angry band of cultivators, being defrauded by mortals, as he chased them around the continent.

  The room burst into laughter. Even the waitresses and guards, who had heard the story a thousand times already over the past few weeks.

  The bard took it in stride, walking around with his hat in hand and instrument in the other, taking donations and pints of alcohol wherever he went.

  Azul watched him as he swayed from place to place, glass in hand. ‘Why did he have to be the center of attention?’

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  Normally, Azul knew his place. Even when he bucked against it, but today, with money in his purse, alcohol in his bones, and pretty ladies around, well, maybe he should be the one everyone looked at.

  Laughed like that for. Looked up at like that.

  He didn’t notice they weren’t looking up at the bard with awe or respect, but with derision, but the bard didn’t mind. He was here to make money. So, if all he had to do was make someone laugh to get his silver and free drink, he’d do it as many times as it took.

  Azul got up from his seat. This time, he had a whole bottle in his hand instead of a glass, and he walked over to the middle of the pub. Where the bard had set up already and took his place, the bard looked at him, a mixture of weariness and resignation in his eyes.

  He had encountered this type of customer before. The best way to handle them was to let them speak, make fun of them every now and again, as long as they didn’t notice, which, the bard was sure Azul wouldn’t notice with so much drink in him, and they’d be out of his hair—or, feathers, in no time.

  Azul started boasting, having no good stories to tell. He had bought a full round of drinks for everyone earlier, so no one really minded.

  “Did I ever tell you about…” he swayed, holding out his hands, “did…” hiccup, “I ever tell you about… I… sknndddd,” he fell on his face. The room burst out in laughter. Jeering out his name.

  Azul smiled, thinking the laughs and applause were for him. He kept ranting, telling about all his “exploits”.

  A man, a butler, sat at the back of the bar, in the shade, he was drinking his sorrows away. His lady, the lady Vespara-widow of The Liu Hong Manor, wanted the pelt of a Celestial Mirror Leopard for the winter. As a lady concerned about her image, she had heard that the noble ladies of the capital all thought the pelt of a Celestial Mirror Leopard was what was in for this winter.

  She wouldn’t be caught out of fashion–The horror.

  And as her butler, he had to comply. His job was on the line. The problem was, no one was stupid enough to go around hunting spirit beasts. Especially not the Celestial Mirror Leopard. They might as well tell their wives and kids they wanted to kill themselves and end it there.

  So as he sat, brooding and tugging on his hair as he sipped his heavy liquor, he overheard a drunk man bragging about the animals he was able to skin. The butler ignored it at first, before realising who was speaking.

  It was Azul.

  He recognized the man. He was too prideful for his own good. He had even heard that one time, Azul had promised the daughter of a fallen noble family to pay off her debts as long as she would let him have her noble title.

  Needless to say, it was a miracle she had even let him live. If she wanted her debts paid off, would she not marry a rich old merchant? Or even become a concubine of one of those newly minted cultivators?

  Why settle for a mere tanner?

  But the butler saw his chance. He had almost stopped paying attention when he heard Azul boast about the spirit beast he had just had in his possession.

  ‘Those spirit beasts I heard about were from him? He was even able to get them live?’ The butler started thinking, ‘Maybe, he could get the Celestial Mirror Leopard?’

  So the butler waited, and waited, till Azul had stopped boasting and had started vomiting into a small barrel at the other end of the bar. Till the bard had told the same 4 stories over and over again. And when the last man left the bar, he cornered Azul.

  The butler put on a servile, almost feigning attitude, “Are you the one who was able to get the spirit beasts?”

  Azul looked up at him from his spot on the floor, next to the vomit barrel. Hearing in double, his head had started pounding a while ago.

  “Huh?...Yes?”

  “Ah, wonderful.” The butler looked around, making sure no one heard him. “ My lady has a request. You can get any animal, right? I’ve heard about your great works.” The man put his hand behind his back, making a sign to call for the bar lady, the one whom he was sure Azul fancied. She came shortly, adequately dressed to convince a drunk man of anything

  Azul looked to see the woman coming near him. The barmaid. His barmaid. She leaned against him.

  “Ohh, Azul, can you really?” She purred.

  The combination of drink, pride, and scantily clad women was enough to down most men, not to mention Azul.

  He puffed up his chest, his cheeks turning a slightly darker shade. “Of course,” he looked at the lady, then his eyes wandered. “I could get you the moon if you asked.”

  Both the butler and the waitress rolled their eyes. The lady was making sure to hide her contempt behind her silky eyes.

  “My friend here really wants the pelts of a Celestial Mirror Leopard. Do you think you could get some?”

  “Of course. When would you like them by?” All the time, he didn't even look at the butler.

  But the butler chimed in. “Would you be willing to speak to my Lady, Vespara, about the pelts?”

  “Of….course,” he answered, not realising what he was doing, “you have the time?”

  “Tomorrow. High noon. Don’t be late.”