Bamboo Forest

"Yes, I really am someone who's lived for over a hundred years."

Though the thatched hut was crude, it was enough to keep out the wind and rain. Fine, dense straw was laid over the beams, patched here and mended there, and not a single drop of rain leaked through, making this little hut the only dry place in the rain-drenched Bamboo Forest.

The bamboo strips in the stove were roasted of their last trace of moisture, slowly bending and charring amid crackling pops and hissing seepage. Tom rested a hand on the desk, looked at the curious students below with their long hair tied up, and nodded lightly.

"I knew it!" A boy in the front row looked smugly at his classmates, bobbing his head as he said, "In the pre-Qin era, shamans in the north spent seven years learning the art of controlling celestial phenomena from a mysterious alchemist. Later, when Emperor Wu campaigned north against the Xiongnu, that family of shamans moved south."

"Oh?" Tom leaned against the lectern with interest and studied him.

"Aren't you curious whether that ancient shaman family has any descendants?" The boy stroked a nonexistent beard, looked around, and raised his eyebrows, only to find his classmates all rather uninterested. He had no choice but to cheer for himself, cupping his hands toward everyone before continuing to bob his head. "How could I possibly keep everyone in suspense? That's right! It is none other than this humble one."

"So that means you can pray for rain, then." Tom simply sat down, propped his arm on the lectern, and teased, "Go on, Xiao Zuo. Go outside and stop the rain for me."

Xiao Zuo froze awkwardly. He did not know how to pray for rain, let alone make the rain stop.

"If I