Chapter 1: Allowances from Grandma

  The marigold had taken well that afternoon.

  Khun Ming stood beside the wide soaking pond behind his workshop, lifting the monk robe slowly from the golden water. Steam rose in thin twisting threads that drifted lazily through the warm air before dissolving into nothing. The color of the robe was good. Very good, actually. Better than the previous batch.

  He held the cloth higher and watched the sunlight touch the damp fibers.

  The yellow was warmer this time.

  Not the dusty shade he had produced last week. That one had leaned too much toward pale straw. The abbot had been polite about it, but monks were used to robes that aged slowly and evenly. That batch had been uneven. Too faint in some areas.

  This one was better.

  More sun than dust.

  He nodded faintly to himself.

  "Not too long," he murmured. "If you rush it, the brightness collapses."

  Marigold dye had a temperament. It looked forgiving, but if the cloth stayed submerged too long the yellow dulled into something tired. Timing mattered more than enthusiasm.

  Behind him, the workshop was quiet. Rows of cloth hung beneath the bamboo roof beams, shifting slightly whenever the mountain wind passed through the open sides. Clay vats sat half buried into the stone floor, their lids tilted aside. Some were still warm from the morning's work.

  The afternoon felt calm.

  Which was usually when small problems appeared.

  He lowered the robe back into the water and stirred gently with a wooden paddle. The surface rippled, releasing a stronger scent of crushed petals and warm plant oil.

  The puppy had wandered too close again.

  Khun Ming noticed it only because the ripples moved strangely. Something small had stepped on the edge stones.

  Golden fur.

  Unstable paws.

  The puppy had appeared around the workshop two days ago. No collar. No obvious owner. Just a curious creature that followed people without commitment.

  He had assumed it belonged to someone nearby.

  Apparently not.

  The puppy leaned too far over the pond.

  Khun Ming saw the slip before the splash.

  The sound was small.

  A soft, quick disturbance.

  He did not hesitate.

  He had never been particularly skilled at hesitation.

  His foot left the stone edge before the thought had finished forming.

  The water swallowed him with an unexpected heaviness. The pond was deeper than he remembered. When he built it, he had planned for deep dye immersion, not accidental rescue operations.

  Cold water rushed up his sleeves and across his shoulders.

  The puppy surfaced once, flailing weakly.

  Khun Ming caught it with one arm and lifted it toward the uneven stone edge.

  "Up you go," he muttered.

  The puppy scrambled desperately and managed to hook its paws over the rim. It slipped once, claws scraping stone, then pulled itself halfway out.

  That part was successful.

  The rest was less elegant.

  Mud swallowed his boots.

  The slope of the pond edge had softened after last night's rain. The ground beneath his feet shifted unpleasantly. His first step failed. His second step slid backward.

  Water filled his sleeves completely.

  He braced one arm against the stones and tried again.

  The mud answered with quiet indifference.

  By the time he found stable footing, voices had already arrived.

  ""Over there. Someone is in the pond behind the workshop. Everyone move aside so we can reach him properly.""

  "Move aside! Give us some space. We are from the volunteer rescue association and we have basic water recovery training."

  "Excuse me, but municipal responders are already here. This situation falls under our responsibility, so please allow us to take over."

  "You're not certified for water incidents! You cannot just push us aside. Our association has responded to several incidents like this and we are perfectly capable of assisting."

  "The issue is not capability. The issue is certification and liability. If something goes wrong, we are the ones who will be held accountable."

  "That pond is barely three meters deep. We are wasting time arguing about jurisdiction while the man is still in the water."

  "The depth is not the only concern. Water incidents require proper coordination. If everyone rushes in at once, you can actually make the situation worse."

  A bright orange flotation ring sailed past his head.

  "Try to throw that closer to him so he can reach it. If it lands too far away he will not be able to grab it."

  "You're blocking my line!"

  Another rope followed immediately afterward and tangled with the first.

  "Don't overlap equipment!"

  "Then coordinate!"

  The puppy had successfully climbed out of the pond by this point.

  It shook itself vigorously.

  Nobody noticed.

  Hands reached for Khun Ming all at once.

  Shoulder. Sleeve. Collar. "Careful with his arm. If you pull him up too suddenly you could injure his shoulder."

  "You are twisting his body in the wrong direction. Try to lift him straight upward instead."

  "You cannot assume his spine is stable. We should support his neck before moving him."

  ""Do you know that his spine is injured?"

  "No, but I am saying we should not take unnecessary risks."

  "Then stop arguing!"

  He was dragged halfway onto the bank. Mud coated his chest and arms. Someone grabbed his wrist while another person tried to hold his shoulders still.

  "Sir, can you hear me clearly right now? I need you to focus on my voice."

  He coughed water.

  "Is he breathing?"

  "He is breathing. I can hear it clearly. His chest is still moving."

  "That might only be a reflex response. Sometimes the body continues shallow breathing even after consciousness fades."

  "Please move back slightly and give him some space. Too many people standing this close will make it difficult to examine him."

  "Everyone step aside. Let our medic take a look."

  "Why should your medic take over? Our team also has someone trained in emergency response."

  "This is not a competition between teams. We should cooperate instead of arguing."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Nearby, three young people held their phones up.

  "Film from here! Make sure the camera is steady because the signal is stable right now and we are already streaming."

  "Try to adjust the angle so the banner behind the workshop is visible. It will help people understand where the incident happened."

  He turned his head slightly.

  Three young people stood nearby holding phones.

  "We're live."

  "Angle it better. The banner's crooked."

  "Sir, if you can hear us, could you please explain what happened before you jumped into the pond?"

  He blinked slowly.

  "To get the puppy," he tried to say.

  "Please do not sensationalize this situation for entertainment. A man is currently experiencing a medical emergency."

  "We are not sensationalizing anything. We are simply documenting the event so the community understands what occurred."

  "This is not a documentary. It is an active rescue operation."

  "Public awareness is important. If people understand the risks, they may behave more carefully in the future."

  The crowd tightened around Khun Ming again.

  "Someone should grab the puppy before it wanders too close to the edge."

  "I am trying to reach it but someone just bumped my arm."

  "I did not bump your arm. I lost my balance because someone stepped on my foot."

  Meanwhile, two rescuers tried to coordinate.

  "We should begin chest compressions carefully. I will count the rhythm while you maintain the pressure."

  "Before we do that, we should confirm his airway is clear."

  "One, two, three. Please maintain a steady pace."

  "You are pressing too quickly. Slow down slightly so the compressions are consistent."

  "You are telling me to slow down while also telling me to keep the rhythm steady."

  "Let our medic take over so we can avoid conflicting instructions."

  "You cannot simply claim ownership of the emergency."

  "Then please demonstrate the correct compression position if you believe ours is incorrect."

  He wished someone would simply choose one method and continue.

  The arguing continued.

  Earnest.

  Defensive.

  Busy.

  The light thinned.

  The voices blurred slightly at the edges.

  He noticed something strange in those final moments. Khun Ming stared upward at the workshop signboard. The painted characters from his little workshop swayed gently in the light.

  Nobody was actually cruel.

  Nobody had intended harm.

  Everyone believed they were helping.

  That made it harder to feel angry.

  The puppy barked once somewhere behind the noise.

  Then the world softened.

  And went quiet.

  The mist around him felt very calm in comparison.

  "You are dead."

  The voice came from behind him, steady and unimpressed.

  Khun Ming turned slowly and looked at the elderly woman. An elderly woman stood several paces away, leaning on a long wooden staff. Her gray robes were plain but carefully kept. Not luxurious. Just clean. Her white hair was tied into a practical coil at the back of her head.

  She did not glow.

  She did not float.

  She did not have wings.

  Beside her sat the golden puppy. Its tail thumped happily against empty air. His breath caught.

  "Oh...You're here, too."

  The puppy barked once and trotted toward him. He knelt automatically and gathered it into his arms. The body was warm. Solid. Real enough that his hands sank slightly into the fur. Relief and sadness settled together.

  The puppy licked his chin.

  "You're very friendly for someone who just died, aren't you?" Khun Ming said quietly.

  The puppy wagged harder.

  He looked up at the old woman.

  "Are you celestial administration?" he asked politely. "Underworld receptionist? Afterlife processing officer?"

  She stared at him.

  He squinted slightly.

  "You look like the grandma statue at Wat Phra That Doi Kham."

  She replied nothing.

  Crack.

  The staff struck his forehead.

  "Aiyo, Grandma," he said, rubbing the spot. "Violence is unnecessary."

  "It was necessary," she replied calmly. "You speak too much nonsense."

  He sighed.

  Fair criticism.

  "I am your great-grandmother."

  "Just to clarify, are we talking about a grandmother within the normal human definition of grandmother, or are we talking about the extended ancestral category where the family tree becomes more like a forest?"

  Crack.

  The staff struck his forehead. Second strike.

  "Direct line?"

  "Fifty generations above you."

  He considered that.

  "...That's quite a gap."

  "You are slow in calculation."

  "Fair enough."

  He glanced down at the puppy.

  "And what about him?"

  "He also died," she said.

  Khun Ming blinked.

  "Not from water," she continued. "From the feet of rescuers who argued about applause. The puppy died shortly after you lost consciousness. Several rescuers stepped on it while arguing about who deserved credit for saving you."

  He closed his eyes briefly.

  "Poor little thing...That is very on-brand for humanity. Humans have a remarkable ability to create complex problems while attempting to solve simple ones," he said softly.

  "But they were trying to help."

  His voice contained no anger.

  "You are not angry?"

  "I suppose I could be angry," he said thoughtfully, "but it seems inefficient to be angry at people who believed they were helping, even if their definition of helping involved stepping on a puppy."

  The old woman studied him with increasing suspicion.

  "You are a very strange descendant"

  "I have been told that before"

  Then she waved into the air. A small wooden table appeared out of thin air.

  "Procedure does not dissolve with oxygen deprivation. Administrative procedure still applies even if your death involved unusual levels of incompetence."

  She handed him a brush.

  "Can I have a pen or keyboard? 21st century born don't use brush unless in calligraphy class"

  Crack. Third Strike.

  "Here," she create a pen and handed him

  "I assume this document determines my next life assignment, right?"

  "It records your merits and grievances."

  The paper contained four categories.

  a) Recent Merits

  b) Major Merits

  c) Regrets of What Haven't Been Done

  d) Unresolved Grudges

  He read the first line and began writing.

  "Recent merits appears manageable. I donated a robe to an elderly monk whose garment had faded unevenly and whose temple budget did not include replacement clothing."

  "Good one," she said.

  He moved to the next section and he paused. "Major Merit? Hmm....."

  He waited.

  Nothing came to mind.

  "...I don't recall anything major. I didn't do any grand donation ceremonies, build schools and monasteries, ..."

  "Think."

  He did and he tried. "...Does not committing large crimes count?"

  "You never saved anyone?"

  "I saved the puppy. but It died."

  "You never prevented a disaster?"

  "I once stopped a dye vat from boiling over."

  "That does not count."

  "It prevented a mess," he said defensively.

  She waved impatiently.

  "Continue writing."

  Major Merits: Blank

  He reached the regrets section and began writing.

  Regrets of What Haven't Been Done:

  — Did not delete browser history.

  — Did not delete homework folder.

  She leaned slightly closer.

  "Explain. What do you mean by regretting that you did not delete your browser history?"

  "Privacy and Personal dignity," he said.

  "You are already dead."

  "Dead man's tales never should reveal."

  Crack. Fourth strike.

  She did not argue further. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

  "You are exhausting. Why my blood line has this idiot?"

  "I am just trying to cooperate with the system. Don't blame yourself. Sometime the other bloodline also make a another story"

  "Stop complaining and continue," she said.

  At Unresolved Grudges, his pen hovered.

  "This section asks about unresolved grudges. I would like to clarify the consequences of listing names."

  "Do you request vengeance? If you request vengeance, those individuals may receive punishment."

  He remembered the overlapping hands. Khun Ming thought about the chaotic rescue scene.

  The conflicting instructions.

  The frantic shouting.

  The small forgotten sound of the puppy.

  "No," he said finally.

  "They were disorganized. Not cruel."

  "You do not want revenge on the people who failed to save you? And the ones recording?"

  "They were busy," he said.

  "No intention toward me."

  The old woman nodded.

  "Then leave it blank."

  She reviewed the clipboard.

  "You will receive allowances."

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "I appreciate the phrasing. It makes reincarnation sound like a scholarship program. It is like a two-years scholarship program at Swiss."

  "But you never applied." She said.

  "I want to. just lazy around and don't want to leave my dyes."

  "A peaceful life. You will get"

  "Thanks" He nodded.

  "Accelerated plant growth affinity."

  "Very useful."

  "Complete knowledge of natural dyeing."

  His eyes brightened slightly.

  "Construction and self-sufficiency skill."

  "Also useful."

  "Sufficient strength for defense."

  "Reasonable."

  "And you will receive a space to live."

  He nodded thoughtfully.

  "What do you want more?" she asked.

  "I think everything is sufficient." He replied.

  "No wealth?"

  "If I can grow all dye-able plants well, I'll manage."

  "No throne?"

  "Why should I? I don't look good in jewels."

  "No revenge?"

  "Why should I, when I can live peacefully?"

  "No power?"

  "Too much chaos."

  The mist grew very still.

  The old woman lifted her staff.

  She tapped it gently against his forehead.

  Knowledge did not crash into him.

  It settled.

  He understood fermentation timing across climates.

  He sensed how mineral mordants bonded with plant pigments and fiber.

  He recognized structural balance in wood framing, stone alignment, water flow, irrigation slope.

  The knowledge felt practical.

  Not overwhelming.

  Like remembering skills he had once practiced for many years.

  She gestured toward the ground.

  A sword wrapped in plain cloth rested nearby.

  Khun Ming narrowed his eyes.

  "Is that the Heavenly Breaking Cosmic Sealing Sword? Or Dark Demon Dragon God-Slaying.....? Or Almighty Dark Demon Slaying Breaking Sword?"

  Crack. Fifth Strike.

  "Stop talking nonsense."

  "I asked for farming and dyeing."

  "You asked for defense."

  "That looks expensive."

  "It is extremely expensive"

  "Does it come with a user manual?"

  Silence.

  "Is there at least a warranty period in case it breaks during normal agricultural use?"

  Crack. Sixth Strike.

  He sighed again.

  "I asked for farming and dyeing."

  "And you received them."

  He looked at the sword again.

  "Can I use it to cut bamboo or trim tree roots if necessary?"

  "You may use it however you wish."

  "That is reassuring because I do not foresee many situations in which I need to slay dragons."

  "You will not encounter dragons if you live quietly."

  "That is the plan."

  The old woman stepped closer.

  Her expression softened slightly.

  "Live properly this time, my child."

  He bowed deeply.

  "I'll try."

  Then he added quietly,

  "And you too."

  The old woman snorted.

  The staff touched his forehead again.

  This time it did not hurt.

  The mist split open like cloth being parted.

  Light entered.

  Birdsong followed.

  When Khun Ming opened his eyes, he lay on a gentle grassy hill beneath a clear blue sky.

  The air felt different.

  Clean.

  A small stream flowed nearby, winding quietly through the land before disappearing beyond a line of low trees.

  At a comfortable distance stood a modest wooden cottage.

  Not large.

  Not small.

  Simply… present.

  Leaning casually against the wall was the wrapped sword.

  He sat up slowly and inhaled.

  The soil felt alive.

  Responsive.

  He placed his hand against the ground and felt a faint awareness of roots beneath the surface.

  Plants here would grow well.

  Very well.

  He smiled faintly.

  "...Alright then."

  The puppy barked. He looked down the golden fur puppy.

  Unstable paws.

  Still enthusiastic.

  "...are you came too?"

  The puppy wagged violently.

  He scratched behind its ears.

  "No.... he will stay here. He has somewhere to go too where he should be." she said.

  "That's bad... anyway.... be a better boy and watch out for ponds and human legs next time, okay?"

  He scratched behind its ears again.

  "I also hope your afterlife administrative duties remain manageable because your current workload appears quite stressful."

  The old woman stared at him for several seconds.

  "I only handle my descendant. You are the strangest descendant I have processed in centuries."

  "I am honored."

  She tapped his forehead again.

  This time the mist split open.

  The wind passed softly through the nearby grass.

  Birds moved between branches.

  No crowds. No shouting. No overlapping instructions.

  Just quiet land waiting to be worked.

  Khun Ming stood and brushed grass from his clothes.

  He studied the cottage.

  Then the stream.

  Then the open fields stretching gently outward.

  "...Let's try growing something properly this time."

  The puppy barked in agreement.

  Steam had not yet risen from any vats.

  But it would.

  Soon. ??

  Chapter 1 Complete.