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This article related to a river in Median is a stub. You can help by expanding it.

Teal Gate River

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The Teal Gate River (青门河; qīngménhé) is a river in southeast Median. It is named after the view near where the river passes through the Heiyu mountains; winding through the bottom of a valley, the bluegreen river appears to be the only “gate” through which one can pass the mountains. Terraced paddy fields are built along its banks for the cultivation of rice.

Like most rivers used for agriculture, the Teal Gate River has a river spirit, to whom the locals pay tribute in exchange for favourable weather and a good harvest. It appears in either the form of a large teal dragon with brown leaf-shaped fins, or a human in traditional teal and brown robes with dragon antlers. Not much is known about the spirit as it is rarely seen outside of mandatory appearances in its temple during the yearly festival in its honour.

“Cherry? Is something the matter, sweetie?”

Wordlessly, Cherry pointed out the window at the shrine in the front yard, where a ridiculously tall and scruffy individual was busy stuffing their pockets with oranges. Her mother’s expression turned from concern to disgust. “Ugh, it’s him again. And I just put those offerings out this morning! Stay right there, dear, I’ll deal with him. Now where did I put that broom…?”

Cherry propped her head up in her hands and squinted through the bug screen at the person’s tattered and patched brown skirt, which ended just above their pasty ankles. “Is it… are we sure they’re a man?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Have you seen the broom, Cherry? I swear it was right here.”

“No, mom.” She paused, then turned in her chair. “Um, do we really have to chase them away? It’s not like the river god will come get these things themself, so it should be fine if somebody else eats them, right? I always feel bad when we let them rot out there.”

Her mother looked up from the storage closet to sigh at her, in that way she does when she thinks she’s being very stupid but doesn’t want to say so. “It’s about respect, sweetie. The whole point of an offering is to show our appreciation, so someone just taking those offerings without permission from the spirits is an insult to both our hard work and the spirits themselves. Ah, there it is! I’ll be right back, dear.” She squared her shoulders, brandished the broom, and slammed the front door open. “Hey, that’s not for you! Scram!”

“Of course it is, you blithering idiot!” A raspy voice screamed from the other side of the door. “And after all the rain this year? You should be hand-feeding me these oranges, not - OW! FUCK!”

Cherry contemplated this for a moment. Then she hopped off her chair, grabbed a bag of red bean buns from the fridge, and sprinted out the back door.

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She found them sitting by an unused section of riverbank, stuffing a whole peeled orange into their mouth. “Um, hey!” She shouted. They turned and met her gaze, and suddenly she felt very silly; what was she trying to accomplish, brandishing a bag of bread at some random offering thief? She didn’t even know their name. Still, she shuffled forward. “Um! S-sorry about my mom earlier! I, um, I still don’t really get how all this works… but the river god is supposed to be a nice spirit, so I don’t think they would mind if somebody else who needed those offerings took them, right? So, um, here!” She raised the bag forward. “To - to say sorry.”

The stranger considered this for a moment, then slowly and laboriously pulled themself to their feet. It was like watching a ladder unfold; they must’ve been at least two full metres tall. Cherry couldn’t help but take a step back, but fortunately they didn’t seem particularly offended. “Hm. Well, if you’re offering,” they said imperiously as they accepted the bag and slung it over their shoulder. “But you’re wrong, sorry - river spirits are territorial bastards. Wouldn’t do a lick of work for humans if it weren’t their job. Can’t say this one’s any different, even if they are exceptionally handsome.”

This was so far outside any of Cherry's expectations that all she could do was splutter helplessly. "What - um - excuse me. Do you... know them?"

“Kind of a weird philosophical question, isn’t it? We’re talking about a spirit.”

“Well, um, sure. But you made it sound like you knew them. Like, really knew them. Even though you’re just, um - some homeless person. Sorry. Right?”

They snorted. “Who told you I’m homeless? S’just you folks haven’t gotten around to giving me an address yet. Kinda tired of waiting, honestly. Don’t s’pose you can do anything to speed up the process?”

"I… don’t think so, no." What were they talking about? Cherry racked her brain for a polite way to end this increasingly uncomfortable conversation - when suddenly a different thing altogether clicked in her mind. She stared wide-eyed at their grimy bluegreen coat and brown skirt with a dawning realization. “Wait, are… are you the river god?”

Was it her imagination, or did the ghost of a grin flash by the stranger’s face? “Hm. I think I’d get in trouble with the higher-ups if I answered that, and I’ve already talked to you too long anyway. So why don’t you run along and decide for yourself?”

Twenty years later Cherry would look back on this little adventure and laugh at her naiveté; it’s adorable how easily her kid self was taken in by this delusional hobo. But right now, in this moment? Something about the way the sunlight glittered on the river made the scene feel downright magical, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Right! I will!”

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