BOC AU: Elder, But Younger Sister

Stories

### Chapter 1: Newfound Family

I took deep, calming breaths, and put one foot in front of the other. All around me was a droning buzz and the feeling of bees landing on me sending signals of “get out of here!” to my brain.

They weren’t stinging, and they wouldn’t sting, unless I became a ‘threat’ but the sound and feeling still got my hackles up even after four times of doing this.

Enough stings would kill me… again . And the only protection I had was bundled up rags shoved under my clothes to hopefully blunt the worst of it.

So I persevered, approaching the hive.

I clambered onto the rock beside the frame I had built to keep the hive box off the ground, and carefully reached for the lid. I pulled on it once, and felt a small surge of panic as it didn’t budge…. But I kept it up. With slow, even pressure, I felt it start to lift, a little bit of wax probably in the way.

The bees buzzed around me.

Slowly, painstakingly slowly, the lid rose into the air. I held my breath the entire time, finally being able to see into the box—

And I beheld gold.

Golden comb, filled with honey.

Slowly, a grin formed on my face, as I thought of the prices for honey and wax I had gotten from the merchants back down in the Crucible—turns out that nobody had thought of frame hives yet, and a bee hive had to be destroyed to get wax and honey from it. Thank the stars I had seen the hives that one storekeeper had with him.

I would be eating like a king tonight.

It had been a longshot, making this so close to the city in this little copse of woodland. It had been a bit of a climb to get here… which meant that nobody actually used it. A secret little garden up a steep slope.

Carefully, I reached into the hive, and grabbed the first frame, gently shooing the bees back into their home.

I moved as quickly as I dared, collecting honey from the scrap wood kludged together boxes, and putting them into my basket, replacing them with new frames I had made.

Finally, things were looking up for me.

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It took an hour to get back into the city proper, carrying my precious cargo. I made a beeline back “home” as it were. A small shack in an alley behind a manor.

Madam Red Oak had let me live there after I “overheard from a doctor” how to cure ‘the shaking sickness’ a couple of the courtseans had. Thank the heavens I had kind of recognised it from reading historical manga. Beriberi. Vitamin B1 deficiency, caused by a white rice heavy diet. All you had to do was eat brown rice, and you would be golden! Well, not golden, but you wouldn’t croak.

The shack was a bit draughty, but it was a solid roof over my head and infinitely better than the streets.

Also stopped me from getting my shit pushed in when I stumbled into gang territory… again.

I let out a sigh as I entered the hovel.. And began the messy work of processing the honey, cutting it out of the frames. I didn't want anybody to steal my ideas and undercut me, while this was the basis of how I was going to get ahead.

You know, most isekais get shoved into a noble family or something, instantly get a cheat power, or just get teleported down in their original body.

I woke up in the body of a homeless kid who had just died in an alleyway from a disease.

And let me tell you, that fucking sucked . My heart still hurt whenever I remembered Poor Rou’s last moments of despair and sorrow. He had just been a kid.. And I had gotten shoved into the kid’s body to hijack it.

Made me feel like shit. I had.. Well, I had saved as much of the kid as I could, I think. I remember the feeling of reaching out for him,a nd pulling him back… but well, the jury is out on if I actually succeeded.

But I did have one thing—Rou’s wish to live a good life.

I wasn’t him. But I made a promise to those dying embers. I was going to live the best life.

Even if this was magical xianxia land and I was a poor illiterate orphan. That just meant I had a long way to climb! I would get there eventually!

Hopefully!

Now, normally I would have packed up and gotten the fuck out of the city… but I was a kid. Rou was tough for a kid, but this body of mine wouldn’t last if I actually tried to leave. There were literal monsters on the roads, and while I was a country boy at heart, even I wasn’t stupid enough to try my luck out there as I was.

And secondly?

I needed the city.

You don’t know how much you need to be able to read and write until you suddenly can’t . I had an 8 year old’s grasp of the language, and like twenty characters.The city was the best place to learn . The best place to sell things. It was the meat grinder that chewed people into pulp and spat them out.. And the best place to make enough money to not be a destitute orphan.

The honey was the first step. Sell the honey, get enough money that I could start to get a buffer… and so I didn’t need to skip meals to pay for my education.

Momentum. It was all about momentum . Pad yourself to mitigate any unforeseen injuries or breaks in your ability to work.

Get more money to buy materials to build more beehives. Good ones , instead of shitty wood cast offs.Make a business. Hire people. Have to work less. Transition to CEO and ideas guy.

And get a good grave marker for Rou’s parents. They had raised a good kid, young as he was.

…I had just started calling myself Jin, though. It made some separation between me and the person I had taken over… and there was nobody in this life that called me by my given name. I was just “Jin” or “Kid” to all who met me.

I finished my work, and packed up. I offered tribute to Madam Red Oak, my kind of landlord, and she was most pleased with my honeycomb treat.

The merchant was even more satisfied. The coins clinked in my pouch, and I let a grin spread across my face.

Operation Good Life is go!

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Of course, that didn’t mean stuff instantly got better., I still had to do shitty jobs to keep things going; if I overharvested the honey It would kill the hive, and I was avoiding that, thank you.

Didn’t mean it didn't suck having to be a street cleaner… but what was I gonna do?

So I gave it my all. My own determination. Some of Rou’s spark.

Forward, to a better life.

And then my musings were interrupted by a voice.

“Hey, brat. Where did you learn to shovel like that?” A rough, slurring voice asked.

I turned, and beheld a middle aged man. He would have been a handsome bastard, with his dark hair and sharp features… but there was something about him. About his eyes.

They were old and tired. Ancient and worn, with a profound, lingering sadness in their depths.

He was a weird guy. I answered his questions.. And thought that would be the end of it.

Three days later… my life took a strange turn.

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Shen Yu walked forward. His head was held high. His back was straight. He marched like he was confident. He marched like he was in control. He marched like every step he took didn’t consume all the self control he had to take it.

He marched forward to once more bear witness to his greatest failure.

Shen Yu’s steps were silent, each footfalling without disturbing the sepulchral silence that shrouded this hidden realm.

It was fitting, for this place was nearly a tomb… if only not quite yet.

The once grand and warm halls were cold and dark. The realm had the colour bleeding out of it, turning to just black and white. The air tasted of nothing, and did not move, not even with his passing.

It was fraying at the edges, a reflection of the being that had made it… and the being it had been made for.

Shen Yu passed by a mirror, and beheld his face.

The chiseled jaw of a man still in his prime stared back. A few wrinkles, to be sure, but his hair was still dark. His beard immaculately groomed. His clothes, the best he had.

It was the facade of a building whose bones had been consumed by termites. Outwardly, he looked fine. Yet he was rotten to his core.

He felt ancient. He felt the strain of years upon his form, and he had nearly let his body reflect that, but he could not.

He would not inflict that knowledge on her.

The fraying edges of the realm solidified as he got deeper. Closer to the location that he had hastily constructed the realm around.

The center of a palace. The colours bled back in. the air warmed. And at last he stood before the gateway, doors warded so they would repel even the most determined Imperial Realm interloper.

They parted for Shen Yu with a sigh. He nearly hesitated. It tore at his soul, every time he entered this realm. But he had to do it. He had to see her again.

He had promised. And worthless though his word had proven to be… it was all he had.

In the center of the room was a bed. Upon the bed was a girl. The most beautiful, precious girl in existence. His heart melted and wrenched at the same time when he saw her face.

Her face was deathly pale. Every inch of flesh below her neck was covered in sealwork, keeping her blood pumping, and keeping her very life contained, so it could not drain out from her shattered meridians.

The wound in the middle of her chest was raw and angry still. The last gift to her from her Elder Brother.

Bu had crippled her. Methodically. A devastating wound that would see her slowly slip away, in agony and terror. wound that had crippled her beyond any hope of repair.

She was tended to by spirits, for she could not move. They cleaned her, fed her, and tended to her every need.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and her eyes focused on Shen Yu.

“Father?” the girl asked, her voice a bare whisper, but it still held warmth. The wound in Shen Yu’s chest screamed at him. “It's good to see you again.”

For her it had been less than a month.

For Shen Yu it had been twelve years.

“Qingyi, my dearest daughter.” He said, warmth flowing into his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Much the same, father. I think I’m doing better!” She lied, and badly.

They both knew that she was dying… and yet still she believed in him.

She struggled against her affliction. She fought with all the strength she had against her ailment, and endured the sealing of her body without a single word of complaint.

Because she trusted him. Even now, she was so sure that he would arrive with a cure one day soon.

It had been two years for Qingyi since she had been interred in this realm.

For Shen Yu it had been Two hundred years.

He had sought out every Spiritual Doctor of any renown. He had collected enough resources to beggar provinces. The greatest minds in the Empire had tried their luck at saving her life. Even Shou, his good friend, had not found a way to save her. Even with all his skills, even with all his herbs.

“Shall I tell you of my adventures?” Shen Yu asked, injecting joviality into his voice. Qingyi perked up, and graced Shen Yu with a smile.

“Please, father! I want to hear all about the places you’ve been, so I can say how different they are when I finally see them for myself!” Qingyi replied with a cheeky smile.

Shen Yu laughed, and sat down with her. He stole another few moments of time from fate.

He would find that cure. No matter what. Before the time was up.

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One hundred years later… and he was no closer to fulfilling that oath.

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Shen Yu’s cultivation creaked like a rickety bridge. He sat upon the steps of a building in Crimson Crucible City, like he did in his youth. A wine bottle was at his lips, and he drained it dry.

There were six discarded bottles beside him. Spiritual Wine of the highest grade,m bottles crafted by the most skilled artisans in the world, each one a work of art.

Shen Yu finished his latest bottle, then absently threw it at the wall.

It shattered.

“Forgive me, old friend.” Shou had said, his eyes cast low.

Another hundred years of failure.

….he didn’t know how long he could keep doing this.

Every time he felt he came close to triumph.. It was always snatched away at the last moment.

And yet something scratched at him. Something told him he was missing something.

He just didn’t know what.

Shen Yu sighed bitterly. He wallowed in his despair. The Sword That was Shen Yu creaked and groaned.

It was very close to breaking completely.

“Hup, hup, hup, hup.” A voice muttered to themselves. It was young, and full of strain. Shen Yu frowned, wondering who dared to interrupt his introspection… and what he beheld made his eyes widen.

A young man, a street cleaner, worked. He was a small lad. He wore threadbare clothes. He had a wheelbarrow and a shovel as his tools, his boots stained with the refuse of the roads.

He drove the shovel deep, into a pile of filth, and with a roll of his hips, he flexed. The heap of trash, looking too large for a boy of his size and age to manage, was perfectly deposited in the barrow.

It was a technique Shen Yu knew well. For he himself had used it, once upon a time. But that was not what made him pause.

What made him pause were the boy’s eyes. They burned with determination. With hunger. With a primal will to survive.

Shen Yu watched for a moment more, and then he was speaking before he knew why.

“Hey, brat. Where did you learn to shovel like that?” he asked.

The boy turned a suspicious glare onto Shen Yu. Judging. Weighing. Then he answered.

“I figured it out myself.” Was the only reply.

Then he went right back to it, dismissing Shen Yu.

He worked without cease. Without complaint. But he did do something that again made Shen Yu pause.

“Tripe and… intestines soup. soft pills? No, meatballs .” He muttered to himself, reading a menu posted on the wall of an empty shop. Wracking his brain for the characters. Learning, even while he worked. He pondered a word he didn’t know. He focused on it. Then he reached into his pack, pulled out a small piece of paper, and swiftly wrote it down, clearly intending to look it up later.

“That character is delights.” Shen Yu supplied. “Palace of Delights.”

The boy paused, then nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

And then he kept at it, shoveling, grunting with exertion.