In the high heavens, white clouds of myriad forms drifted listlessly against a backdrop of azure sky. At the world’s end, the firmament merged seamlessly with a deep, emerald sea. A fleet of three merchant vessels sliced through the water, cresting wave after endless wave. Atop the highest masts, identical triangular banners of dark green fluttered in the wind, each embroidered with a coiled black dragon at its center.

  This black dragon on a green field was the insignia of the Emerald Dragon Brotherhood—a sovereign power and mercantile guild from the Southern Isles. Their renown was as vast as their skill was formidable. Throughout the high seas, the mere sight of this flag was enough to make pirates of all stripes turn away in trepidation. It was not that these ships lacked treasure; on the contrary, their cargo was more precious than any other in these reaches. However, the mariners of the Emerald Dragon Brotherhood were all masters of profound martial arts. Their vessels were equipped with sails of extraordinary size to catch the gale, allowing them to surge forth faster than any pursuer. Furthermore, the Brotherhood had cultivated its strength over generations, boasting many top-tier experts. Above all others within the sect sat one man: the White Jade Dragon.

  "White Jade Dragon" was the title bestowed upon him by the people of the martial world, but his true name was Fan Baojian, the unrivaled sovereign of the Southern Isles. He had once repelled foreign invasions with his private forces, securing not only a resounding victory but also vast riches and a multitude of captives. Among them was a foreign beauty who eventually became his wife. The presence of a consort with pale, "glass-like" eyes had served to further elevate the legendary status of this dragon.

  At the prow of the lead vessel, two men were currently engaged in a spirited exchange. The first was of a compact, well-proportioned build. His features were defined by large, round eyes and a prominent nose with a slight ridge at the bridge. A look of perpetual mirth—half-smile, half-laugh—lingered on his lips as he gazed toward the distant horizon, searching for their destination. Beside him, the second man lay stretched out at full length. He, too, possessed a compact frame, yet his eyes remained half-lidded, as if he were suspended in a state between slumber and wakefulness. His straight, elegant nose complemented the fine shape of his lips. Had he not looked so unkempt and indolent, he might have been considered a man of rare beauty.

  “Have you ever beheld the sea before?” the first man asked. On this vessel, he was known as A-Ke.

  Though the second man lay sprawled upon the deck, he was not asleep. Raising his left arm to shield his eyes from the glare, he replied with a lazy drawl, “I once spent my days in the Eastern Lands; I am intimately familiar with the waters of that realm.”

  The crew of the ship called this man A-Luo.

  “Are the Eastern seas different from these Southern waters?” A-Ke inquired, his eyes tracing the deep green swells.

  “To my mind, there is no difference. They are all a tedious, wearisome shade of green,” A-Luo replied, still reclining, not even bothering to fully open his eyes.

  “You speak truly…” A-Ke smiled. “I once even lived among the 'Dwarf Pirates' of the east…”

  “You, too, have wandered far,” A-Luo remarked flatly.

  “In truth, my life is like damaged cargo…” A-Ke gave a soft laugh, pointing a finger at his own feet. “No one wishes to claim it. I am fated to simply drift wherever these two feet take me.”

  “Then we are quite different. I have made it my aim to use these two feet as little as humanly possible.”

  “I was raised in the rugged wilderness, born into the bitterest poverty. If I did not travel by foot, how else could I have seen the world?”

  “You do not have the air of a man born to poverty.”

  “And how should such a man appear?”

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  “Men of poverty do not smile or laugh as freely as you do.”

  “If that is so, then a man of poverty ought to resemble someone like you—one who loves nothing more than to lie about in idleness.”

  “I certainly bear a closer resemblance to a pauper than you.”

  “The truth is, you look like a celestial being descended to the mortal dust…” A-Ke said, studying his companion’s face. “Even though you are unwashed, it cannot mask the noble and handsome grace you were born with.”

  “Only you would mistake a lazy, filthy wretch like me for a celestial in disguise,” A-Luo snorted.

  “Precisely because I was born to poverty, I can discern who is a true celestial hiding amongst the common folk.”

  “Actually, I am not just a man of poverty; I am the most pitiable of them all.”

  “How so?”

  “Think on it. To be a pauper alone is misfortune enough. But now, two such paupers have joined forces. Is that not the height of misery?”

  “Ha ha! Your words are most logical. A pity that a beggar like myself has no wine to celebrate such an excellent observation.”

  “Those of our station are well-acquainted with disappointment. If there is wine, we drink. If there is none, we do not.”

  “Thus, men like us have few brothers-in-arms.”

  “Indeed. Keep your companions to a minimum. Men like us have no business having friends. Friendship requires silver and gold. Where would we find such things? Therefore, how could we have friends?”

  “What value is a friend who must be purchased with gold? I would rather be a penniless man without a soul to my name than have a friend bought with coin.”

  “You will never know which is better, for you will never possess the coin to buy one anyway.”

  “So, I lack even the capacity to hope.”

  “If you still harbored hope, you would never have accepted work as a mere laborer on a merchant ship.”

  “Manual labor still puts coin in the palm. Why can you not grant me even a little hope?”

  “And how much of that coin will be left when we disembark? Last night, did we not both gamble away our entire wages on the dice before the night had even begun?” A-Luo’s brow furrowed with a rare touch of gravity.

  “To this moment, I still do not understand. Why is it that the dice, which by all rights should have been 'High', always turned up 'Low'?” A-Ke shrugged.

  “Because they were swindling us, plain and simple.”

  “You knew they were cheating us?”

  “I only know they stole our money. I still haven't fathomed why those dice kept falling on 'Low' when they should have been 'High'.”

  “Then we are destined to remain as hopeless paupers forever,” A-Ke sighed.

  “If fortune smiles on you, perhaps you should marry into wealth. Only then will your fate change,” A-Luo replied, closing his eyes once more in a display of utter indolence.

  “If I were as handsome as you, perhaps I could marry a lady of means.”

  “You need not worry for me. I already have a lady I am fond of, though she is far too high for me to reach.”

  “You have a lady you are fond of!?”

  “Am I not permitted even that?”

  “Neither of you is permitted anything! Lazy scoundrels like you deserve to be cast into the depths of the sea rather than be allowed to set foot on land!”

  A sharp, reprimanding voice cut through the air. The speaker was a young woman of exotic beauty. Her eyes were larger than those of the local maidens, her nose more aquiline, and her lips more full. Only her raven-black hair and her sharp tongue identified her as one of their own; otherwise, any observer would have taken her for a foreigner. She was the favored daughter of the White Jade Dragon, Fan Baojian. Her name was Fan Qingqing, the lady of highest authority aboard this vessel. She had discovered the two men, who had been ordered to scrub the decks, idling away the hour in meaningless chatter.

  “A-Ke, A-Luo, since you refuse to work, get back to your quarters!”

  A firm but kindly voice rose from a hunchbacked old man. He held an accounting ledger in his hand and stepped in to shield the two men from the Young Mistress’s wrath.

  “Uncle Sun, why must you always protect them? Sending them back to their quarters—is that not simply granting them the rest they desire?” Fan Qingqing glared at the man she most trusted with an expression of deep annoyance.

  “Confining them to their cabin and forbidding them from eating today’s meals should be punishment enough.”

  “Only forbidding them from eating?” Fan Qingqing seemed to favor a much harsher sentence.

  The two men did not wait to hear the conclusion of the debate between the Young Mistress and the Head Accountant. They retreated together to the hold of the ship. Upon reaching their cramped quarters, they lay down on the floor in silence. A short while later, a rhythmic tapping sounded at the door.

  A-Ke, the man of the perpetual half-smile, rose to answer. He found a tray of food neatly arranged outside the door, though the bearer was nowhere to be seen. He brought the tray inside and closed the door, returning to his spot on the floor. Though the meal was of the finest quality and even included a jar of wine, A-Ke showed no desire to touch it. A-Luo, likewise, remained indifferent from the start. Even with such a feast before them, they chose only to surrender to sleep. These two were truly nothing else—merely paupers in perpetuity.