The Song of Winter

Part VI: The third spirit and holiday morning

Darkness draped over the landscape as if someone had just thrown a veil around the peacock. He spun around, chest heaving, blinking frantically as he tried to figure out where he was. Gradually, the moon peeked out from a bank of clouds, shedding muffled light over his surroundings.

Shen found himself standing in the middle of a cemetery, on a bitterly cold night. Irregular rows of headstones encircled him, so numerous that they made him feel more than a little claustrophobic. As far as he could tell, he was alone out here; there wasn't a single other soul in sight, spirit or otherwise.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him. He saw the silhouette of a tall cloaked figure projected on a gravestone in front of him. Yet when he turned around, there was no one there.

"H-hello?" he whispered.

The shadow said nothing.

"Are you the spirit of winter yet to come?"

There was a pause. Then the shadow gave what looked like a nod of its head.

Shen exhaled shakily. "Spirit, what's going on? What are we doing in this place?"

The spirit raised its arm, pointing a long, thin finger towards the direction of a hill. Afraid of what he might see up there, Shen turned his head, finding that his breath seemed to be held hostage in his throat.

Several figures seemed to be moving around up there, but it was hard to see them clearly. He moved forward slightly and realized that he was looking at the Furious Five. All of them had bowed their heads in respect before what seemed to be a particularly tiny grave marker. He wasn't sure what was going on until he saw that Mr. Ping was also there…and that the old goose was despondently laying a familiar crutch in front of the grave, in place of the flowers that he probably couldn't afford.

…

"Aaaaah – OWWWW!" cried Shen as he felt another sharp tug on his whiskers. From his lap, Kurisu was pulling on him as if she thought his head contained a secret trapdoor.

"You ugly CHICKEN!" she spat. "With your – noodly mustache and your bean bun head!"

Xun snickered. "Fond of the food imagery, aren't you?"

"Will you stop it, Kurisu! That really hurts!" Shen snapped. "What do you think you're doing that for, anyway?"

"For making me die in your story!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"In case you hadn't figured it out yet, kitten, I didn't make up the plot! It's not my fault that most of the characters are dead!" He rubbed his sore cheek, glowering. "Now, as I was saying…"

...

"No!" Shen reared back, nearly stumbling down to the frostbitten ground. His throat pulsating, he looked back at the faceless spirit, who still watched over him emotionlessly. "Spirit, I-I never wanted this to happen…"

The spirit said nothing.

Just then, he heard two voices, and turned to see the pig and sheep who had come to his door trying to siphon a donation from him. Both of them were bundled up in heavy coats and carrying shovels as they walked through the graveyard.

"I thought that one would never go," remarked the pig.

"Same here," agreed the sheep. "It's such a relief to be rid of that burden on society…"

Shen was shocked. Facing the spirit once again, he demanded shakily, "Why would they speak that way about Kurisu?"

Instead of responding, the spirit raised its silhouetted hand and gestured at an open grave that the pig and sheep had been walking away from. Shen tentatively inched his way towards it, feeling the spirit's eyeless gaze on his back, gripped by cold adrenaline and a strong sense of unreality. If this was a dream, and he wasn't sure that it was, he prayed that he would wake up now and not have to see anything more. But the world remained intact around him, and he had no other choice than to slowly shuffle up to whatever was awaiting him.

The open grave was unmarked, and it was so deep and dark that he couldn't even see the coffin at its bottom. "Spirit, whose lonely grave is this?" he asked fearfully.

The spirit's shadow receded, and Shen heard soft, scuffling footsteps behind him. He rotated his head towards the sound as if in a trance. He could see that the spirit he had found to be so silent and intimidating wore a long black cloak, as its silhouetted figure had suggested…but it wasn't particularly tall or imposing. In fact, it was unusually small.

Then it reached up and removed its hood, and Shen's eyes widened at the sight of…

…

"…Master Shifu!" he announced dramatically.

This reveal got by far the biggest laugh of all. Po chortled loudly, Kurisu couldn't help but giggle, and even Master Tigress had to crack a smile. Master Shifu's ears flattened, but unlike everyone else, he didn't object to Shen's casting.

The peacock smirked, waiting for the laughter to fade out before he continued. "Yes, he was face-to-face with Master Shifu. He asked once again, 'Spirit, whose lonely grave is this?'…"

…

And finally, the spirit spoke up. "Whose lonely grave?" he repeated, his voice remaining toneless. "Why, it's yours, Master Shen…the richest man in the cemetery!"

And with that, he gave Shen a shove that had far too much force coming from someone of his size. Shen cried out, barely managing to grip the edge of the grave before he tumbled down into the abyss. As his eyes darted beneath him wildly in fear, he realized that the coffin was now visible…and that it had taken on the form of hell itself. Its lid was wide open, and it was spewing orange flames that licked hungrily at the edges of his talons.

The spirit strode up to him, gripping a wooden staff that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. Without saying a word, he turned the pronged end of the staff downwards and began to pry the struggling Shen away from his handholds.

"No!" Shen scrabbled for purchase and failed to find it. "No! Spirit, please! I'll change!"

He felt himself hurtling down towards the sizzling confines of the fire.

"I'll change!..."

His head shot upwards as he sat up in bed. His blankets were tangled around him in irregular knots; the crackling of flames had been replaced with the sound of tolling church bells. Sunlight was streaming through the dusty windows into his bedchamber.

His heart still pounding, he gave himself a quick once-over, noting that he had miraculously avoided being burned to a crisp. "I – I'm alive!" he exclaimed. "And today is the holiday! I still have a chance! Oh, there's no time to waste…"

Shen quickly scrambled out of bed, his body trembling with excitement and relief as he haphazardly changed out of his sleeping robe. He got dressed, slipping a small leather pouch filled with gold coins into his robe, and dashed out into the streets without bothering to grab a bite to eat or pay his usual careful attentions to his appearance.

Outside, the morning air was cold, but it was also crisp and bright and somehow brimming with optimism. The residents of the Valley of Peace were dashing about, picking up the finishing garnishes for their holiday meals, making last-minute arrangements about whose house dinner would be hosted at, and wishing each other a happy feast. Their footsteps made cheerful crunching sounds in the fresh layer of snow that blanketed the village. It wasn't as if Shen had never seen the Valley during the holiday before – after all, he had lived here for much of his life. But for the first time, he wasn't only seeing it. He was also experiencing it, allowing himself to be infected with the prevalent sense of joy that everyone else seemed to feel at this time of year, and understanding what everyone else saw in their celebrations. It was an astounding sensation.

From the street corner, he heard a bell tinkling, and he saw the two collectors who had stopped by his shop yesterday. Both of them were holding out their hats, and the pig was ringing a bell, beckoning to the holiday shoppers to donate their leftover change. Shen hurried up to them, smiling broadly.

"Happy Feast, gentlemen!" he called out as he approached.

They turned to him, startled. "Oh, Master Shen!" stammered the sheep. "It's you!"

"Still collecting for the poor? I'll fix that!" Shen continued airily. They both winced as he reached into his robe, as if expecting that he would withdraw a knife and strike them down. Instead, he removed a handful of coins from his pouch and dumped them into the pig's collecting tin.

Upon hearing the clanking of the money, both collectors opened their eyes and were reasonably stunned by what they saw.

"There you are!" said Shen. "One hundred yuan, no more, no less!" With that, he sauntered down the street with a spring in his step.

"Thank you, sir!" called the collectors, waving to him as he departed.

Shen headed to the marketplace, giving everyone he passed a nod and a smile (and earning more than a few shocked glances in return). On his way there, he happened to spot a familiar green insect hopping through the snow. "Master Mantis!" he called out.

Mantis leapt up on a fence post to avoid being trampled underfoot before he responded, "Master Shen! What is it?"

"Tell the other masters to save a chair for me at the Winter Feast tonight, and to keep the food warm," Shen instructed.

Mantis was so surprised that he nearly toppled from his perch. "You mean you're coming?"

"Of course I'm coming! I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Shen hurried on his way before Mantis had the chance to ask any more questions.

At the marketplace, Shen used the rest of the money in his pouch to purchase an assortment of practical items, such as dinner ingredients, candles, and cutlery, as well as a variety of toys. When all was said and done, his shopping amounted to two hefty bundles. He expertly tied these at their tops in a way that would disguise their contents, before making his way to the former shop and home of his sole employee, Mr. Ping. Keeping a straight face with a bit of difficulty, he knocked on the door.

Mr. Ping had been inside preparing for the holiday dinner. When he answered the door and saw who his visitor was, he let out a honk of surprise. "S-sir!" he gasped. "Um…H-Happy Feast…"

"Happy Feast," responded Shen curtly, keeping his voice gruff in order to disguise the laughter threatening to overtake him. He let his two bundles fall to the ground as if their contents were grim and foreboding. "I have an important assignment for you."

"Assignment? But, sir!" Mr. Ping looked incredibly distressed. "You told me that I could have today off!"

"Have today off? Did I say that?" Shen fixed the old goose with a faux cold stare, not noticing that a familiar blue kitten was slinking down the stairs. "Well then, I repeal that! I'm not giving you a day off! I'm giving you – "

"Toys!" exclaimed a child's voice behind him.

"Wha…?" Shen spun around and saw that Kurisu had pulled open one of his bundles, revealing the brightly colored playthings on the inside. He sighed and allowed himself to crack a smile, now that his cover was blown.

"Toys?" Mr. Ping squinted at the bag suspiciously.

"All right, I suppose the cat's out of the bag," Shen submitted. "Literally. I'm not giving you a day off, Ping…I'm giving you a raise."

"A raise?" The goose clapped both wings against his bill.

"Yes. And making you my new business partner, if you agree." Shen extended his hand. "What do you say?"

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Mr. Ping pumped his employer's wing enthusiastically. "You have no idea how much this means to me! I promise, I won't let you down!"

"I'm sure you won't." Shen reached down and rumpled Kurisu's head fur. The little girl giggled. "Now, I've brought some supplies for the Winter Feast. Would you mind helping me unpack them?"

"Not at all." Mr. Ping was beaming as he performed a slight bow. "Happy Feast, Master Shen!"

Kurisu smiled. "And gods bless us, every one!"

…

"So all the masters got together and had a wonderful Winter Feast, Mr. Ping had enough money to pay Kurisu's medical bills, and Sheng Li remembered all the help he'd received from the spirits and was never greedy or stingy again," completed Shen. "The end."

He stood up on the table and bowed as his audience applauded the conclusion to his tale. "Not bad," Xun called. "Even if it wasn't accurate at all."

"And even if I had to be dead," added Po.

"And even if I was a wimpy little damsel in distress," added Kurisu.

Shen rolled his eyes. "Will you all come off of it? As I said before, it's not supposed to be a true story." He cleared her throat. "There is one true part of it, though."

"The part where you reformed?" asked the soothsayer with a smile.

"Yes. And the part where I became grateful for what I had." Shen looked around at his makeshift family. "When I look back at the past few years, I can't believe how far I've come. And it's all because of you…each and every one of you. Everyone here did something to help me at some point, whether I deserved it or not. I hope I haven't disappointed you…"

"Hey, you took me in off the streets when I was starving!" exclaimed Xun. "I probably would have died if you hadn't found me!"

"And if it wasn't for you, I never would have been the Dragon Warrior!" Po pointed out. "And you helped me find my mom again anyway, so that makes us kind of even."

"And I would have been struggling to find my way back in Gongmen City if we'd never met," supplied Lanying. "You're the one who gave me a chance to be successful…"

Shen smiled. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear that. And I'll always be here if anyone needs me." He looked down pointedly at Kurisu as he said this. "No matter how big our family may get."

Kurisu rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms around his waist. "Happy Feast, you ugly chicken," she said with a smirk.

"Happy Feast, to everyone." Shen crossed his arms and looked out over the Jade Palace, satisfied. Maybe he couldn't repay everything he owed to everyone he owed it to, but he was trying, and just putting in that hard work made him feel better. He picked up a glass from the table and raised it into the air. "Let's have a toast to a prosperous year ahead of us."

And as everyone raised a glass and repeated his toast, he reflected that maybe his story hadn't been so fictitious…after all, he'd still gotten his happy ending.

THE END

A/N - All right, DONE. There, that was a nice little Christmas/holiday story, wasn't it? It was my Christmas present to the Internet, and if you would like to give me a present in return, then REVIEW.

"A Great Escape" will resume after the holiday!