ã€ŠThis Venerable Demon is Grossly Unqualifiedã€‹


 Prologue: The Eyes of Heaven

    ¡°Come now, Elder Fan, surely you have something to say in defense of your actions?¡± Sectmaster Meng Xiao asked. He didn¡¯t expect a response. Truth be told, he was not sure he wanted one.

    Black velvet curtains hung down over the roughly worked stone walls, dampening any echoes. A single brazier sat in the center of the chamber, its wan flames casting dim light across the tight confines of the space. Meng Xiao paced, slowly circling around Fan Xiaotong.

    ¡°We are a demonic sect after all. I do not think the requirements we place upon those who elect to join us as teachers are too onerous.¡± Meng Xiao said, his voice slowly rising in volume as he spoke. ¡°We do not require you to pass down the core of your arts. We do not demand of your time beyond what you see fit to give. We allow you great latitude in disciplining those beneath you. We allow you to exploit those seeking your tutelage as you desire, whether you seek labor, spirit stones, or less¡­ orthodox favors in recompense.¡±

    ¡°I do not think it is unreasonable of me to ask, why you decided to kill twenty of my outer disciples!¡± He roared, his voice shaking the very mountain. It hardly matters. This deep in the heart of the Night, sound and light alike existed and transited at his sufferance.

    Fan Xiaotong did not respond. Meng Xiao gestured, and the darkness that filled the chamber retreated, withdrawing back towards the far edges of the room. As they fall back, tendrils of ebony pull Fan Xiaotong¡¯s limbs with them, joints popping as they lash him tighter still against the pillar of stone he is bound to. Viper-thin tongues of shadow lap at the exposed flesh of his feet and ankles, each gentle passage leaving reddened skin that dews with small drops of blood.

    ¡°You had to know it would end this way. Nothing that passes beneath the night sky escapes my sight. Were we not kind enough to you? Was your position insufficiently honored? Did you think the blood of our sect might buy you greener pastures among the righteous?¡±

    Meng Xiao¡¯s voice lowered into a whisper as menacing as it was exhausted.

    ¡°Has a mere hundred years of solitude allowed the prospect of my wrath to drift into myth?¡±

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    At these words, the tongues of shadow at Elder Fan¡¯s feet leapt higher, biting deeper. With each flickering pass, strips of flesh vanish as if they never were, leaving ruby red muscle exposed to the firelight. Finally, Fan Xiaotong breaks his silence, grunting as his legs are eaten away.

    At the sound of this, Meng Xiao stops pacing. Turning to face his captive, he sits down where he stood. The dark rises up to meet him, tendrils of writhing shadow twisting and cavorting amongst themselves, assembling themselves into a twisted facsimile of a couch.

    ¡°Finally, he speaks.¡± Meng Xiao said with a mirth as hollow as his wrath. ¡°I¡¯m excited to hear this, truly. Before I erase you, enlighten me as to why exactly you thought this idiocy was a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Heaven frowns upon you.¡± Fan Xiaotong replied, each word slow and ponderous.

    ¡°A dog of the orthodoxy? You spent 41 years among us to throw it all away for the lives of mere outer disciples? You can¡¯t have passed back much of note if we never caught you. Was this an act of desperation? Worried that with your pathetic failure at spying you were doing more evil in our service than you might ever redress?¡±

    The tongues of shadow rose higher, dancing around Fan Xiaotong in a queer parody of a man burning at the stake.

    ¡°I was not speaking in the abstract.¡±

    Seven words. With them, the whole atmosphere in the room twisted. Meng Xiao¡¯s good humor disappeared. Fan Xiaotong¡¯s slow speech suddenly changed, his words no longer the last gasps of a dying man, but the weighty cadence of a judge pronouncing a sentence.

    ¡°Tian¡¯s patience has expired. No longer can you hide from his eyes. Your pathetic little rebellion dies.¡±

    Shadow raged, black tendrils expanding into great swaths of shadowstuff. In an instant, they surround Fan Xiaotong, then interweave and tighten, closing around him like a flower borne against the currents of time. A moment later, they collapsed inwards, and the center of the room was empty, leaving no sign that Fan Xiaotong, the chains that had bound him, or the pillar of stone he¡¯d been bound to, ever existed at all.

    Meng Xiao does not move. Even the riotous threads of darkness that make up his couch seem subdued at the news.

    ¡°The Beggar of Barren Paradise, in one of our elders.¡±

    The fire goes out. Meng Xiao sits quietly in the umbral abyss that is the heart of his power, tracing threads of possibility, weighing outcomes.

    ¡°Well, fuck.¡± He finally muttered. ¡°There goes this century.¡±

 Chapter 1 - Morning Breath

    It¡¯s always a strange experience, waking up in a bed that isn¡¯t yours. There¡¯s that moment of disorientation, before memory reasserts itself, and all the strange little details recontextualize themselves, and you realize you¡¯re sleeping at a bed and breakfast in Boston, not your mattress on the floor back home.

    Waking up in a new body is much the same, except the details don¡¯t suddenly start making sense. I¡¯d been up for almost half an hour now, and I was still stuck on the hands. The hands, or rather my hands, I supposed. I¡¯d had calluses before, but this, this was a completely different level. There were scars on my fingers. Deep, old, scars, thin lines of silver flesh criss-crossing the digits. My skin was paler than I remembered, the yellow-orange tint that had endured through a lifetime of indoor pursuits replaced by a bone white. And I felt so strong. My heart thundered in my chest, beating so powerfully it was almost audible. I¡¯d never thought of myself as weak, but this was different, a furious vitality that left me feeling like I could pulp furniture between my fingers, a wild, restless energy demanding to be used.

    It was only with great difficulty that I refrained from testing my new fingers out upon the table next to my bed. I¡¯d already shattered the cup, reaching for a drink of water and finding nothing but shards of porcelain that reeked of rice wine.

    It was too nice a table to subject to such violence. The whole room was beautiful, but sparse. The low table sat to my left, the sole piece of furniture atop the beautiful rug I sat upon. The rug covered most of the room, bearing embroideries of eastern dragons and phoenixes soaring around each other in tight spirals. A chest of drawers, finely made and coated with lacquer in the shade of vibrant red I¡¯d always associated with the fanciest of dim sum restaurants graced the far wall. While the furnishings were sparse, the walls themselves were anything but, covered with gorgeous hangings from a dozen mismatched artistic traditions. Portraits that looked almost like they could have been done by renaissance masters sat next to landscapes I could only describe as Sumi-E meets modern graffiti, stylized trees and waves done with bold strokes in a dozen clashingly bright colors.

    And then there was the sword.

    It rested by the door, propped against the trim. I supposed it was my sword, if this body was mine, it stood to reason the contents of the room were as well, at least the personal effects. It was a slender, boxy sort of thing. A thin, but very square blade, with a minimal taper and no fuller. It was utterly unadorned, the guard and pommel a rounded rectangle and black dome respectively of a flat glossy material that looked almost like plastic. It was a curious weapon, I almost felt like it could pass as easily as a Carolingian arming sword as a Jian. I took it with me all the same, there was something reassuring about having a bit of steel at your belt. When I clipped it into the little brass loop that hung from the belt closing my robes, I felt an almost overwhelming sense of correctness flow through me. I knew without a doubt, this was my sword.

    I opened the door. It just seemed like the thing to do, going outside. I felt good, even my morning thirst was more of a reflex than a pressing need. But the room was beyond empty, lacking even a stove or bedroll, or any of the other essentials of life, and I¡¯d already spent nearly an hour staring at my scarred fingers and strange wall art. The whole morning felt rather dreamlike. If it was even morning at all, it was rather difficult to tell with all the windows shuttered.

    My door opened out onto a great paved plaza, a couple dozen dwellings of varying stages of opulence positioned around it. Mine was one of the well made, but by far one of the smallest, consisting of only a single massive room ringed by a balcony. My neighbors to either side were proper houses, with multiple floors and small enclosed courtyards. The plaza itself was nigh barren, the only deviation from the smooth stones were a few dozen great wooden pillars set at the center, each with hundreds of pieces of paper tacked to it, which cast long shadows in the light of the late afternoon sun.

    ¡°Elder Hu!¡± A shrill cry greeted me from below.

    Or, I assumed it greeted me. The colossal plaza was strangely empty, and the young woman who had cried out¡­ Was kowtowing before me scant inches from my doorstep.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Please Elder Hu, have mercy on this unworthy¡­" She began. "Wait, what?"

    Gingerly, I stepped over her, and began walking away. This situation was weird and uncomfortable and I wanted no part in it.

    ¡°Wait, sorry, please don¡¯t go, I was just expecting you to ignore me again!¡± The young woman said, the words spilling out of her like a drunken frat bro trying to explain cryptocurrency to his date.

    ¡°Please, I''m sorry to bother you but I''ve been here for two months and nobody has been willing to teach me anything, or they wanted things I couldn''t give them in exchange and everyone says that you''re a master of the sword and one of the fairest elders, could you just give me a few pointers or some advice about the Dao or anything at all I just don''t know what to do and I gave up everything to come here and feel like my one chance to change my fate is slowly slipping away from me!"

    After that horrendous vomit of information, she fell silent, staring up at me apprehensively from her kneeling position. The young lady wore a black robe, made from roughly spun cotton or linen or wool. Her long brown hair pooled all around her bowed head, obscuring most of her face, but I could see enough to tell she was vaguely asian in appearance. At her side lay a naked sword, a mangled thing that had clearly seen long use, its blade marked by dozens of small burrs that hadn''t been properly ground out.

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    "Walk with me." I finally said, regretting the words the moment they left my lips. What the hell was I supposed to tell her? I wasn''t this Elder Hu, but saying that seemed like a terrible idea.

    Pithy advice raced through my head. Don''t eat yellow snow? Too flippant. Measure twice, cut once? Good, but didn''t really seem sufficiently martial considering I''d found myself in some sort of asian fantasy. I tried to wrack my head, Elder Hu''s head apparently, for some sort of martial advice, but found nothing. I was a passable mixed martial artist, but far from an expert with a sword. Fuck, never had I more greatly regretted not taking those Kali classes my gym offered.

    The girl struggled to keep up with the pace I set as I thought furiously, my already longer legs flying across the plaza even faster than I''d expected, each step building more momentum than it should. I had no idea how I was doing that, but it gave me an idea.

    I stopped.

    "Demonstrate a technique." I ordered.

    The girl leapt to obey, taking a wide stance with her sword held out to her side. Slowly, she brought her hands together, slowly bringing the weapon up to her cheek, then she took a long step forward and spun, the sword first dipping low, then raising high, cold light building along the edge of the mangled blade. As she exited the spin, bringing the sword across and down, I could see the cold light she''d gathered extend forward, flying just beyond the edge of the cut before dissipating. The whole sequence took several seconds. It was gorgeous, in a way, unearthly, and the blade of silver light felt dangerously sharp, even from a distance.

    She turned expectantly towards me, breathing heavily. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Had a single swing exhausted her?

    I had no idea how to use sword intent, or qi, or whatever the hell that was, but I had one idea.

    I channeled Frank, the old Italian-American man who had taught me to box.

    "Now do it again, without all that wasted motion. A mortal with a sharp stick could have poked you to death in the time it took you to finish that."

    Well, maybe it was a poor channeling. Frank wouldn¡¯t have used half as many words. Or said anything like that. It was a truly awful impression.

    "I''m sorry Elder, I do not understand. What wasted motion? That was my best comprehension of the Waxing Crescent, as the Manual of the Passing Moon described it."

    "All of it. Starting from such a low guard. Why would you ever keep a sword in a position where you cannot immediately block with it. That spin. Looking away from your opponent for a little more momentum is to court death needlessly!" I began, a little bit of Xianxia-rhetoric slipping into my speech.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Elder, but I do not understand. Could you show this blind disciple?¡± The girl replied, staring down at the ground instead of meeting my eyes.

    Well, time to expose myself as a fraud. Even as I agreed, my mind raced to think of excuses. Performance anxiety? Left my good sword at home? I decided to just perform some sort of normal-ass slash. Maybe I¡¯d say something about how a normal swing would kill a man just as surely as whatever fancy moon nonsense she¡¯d demonstrated? Was that even true here? I wasn¡¯t sure.

    I drew the sword by my side, and suddenly, everything felt right. I took it up in the same guard I''d exhorted the girl to, a sort of two handed mid-guard that I was pretty sure I''d seen a kendoka take in a YouTube video a lifetime ago. Or maybe it was HEMA? Swords really were not my forte. I''d planned to swing like the girl had, minus the spin, but my muscles had other ideas.

    With an ease born from thousands of repetitions now forgotten, I brought the hilt up to my chest, angling it for a two handed thrust that was totally inappropriate for a weapon of this length and weight. Power surged through my veins, and I caught the wind along the edge of my blade. For a ghost of a moment, it felt like I was thrusting through molasses, every fraction of an inch heavier than the last, until an instant later, the resistance broke, and with it, the very air around me. A sonic boom echoed as a pressure wave screamed out from my sword, sending a horizontal hurricane ripping across the plaza. Trees whipped back and forth, lacquered shutters clacked as they were torn from their ties, and a few windows simply popped, the sheer pressure of the blast too much for them to bear.

    Oops.

    A word entered my mind unbidden, I might not be this Elder Hu, but the body remembered. Stormbreaker, it was called. A sword to silence the raging heavens.

    I waited a moment, for the cacophony to quiet.

    ¡°Any move that cannot be performed instantly from your default guard is one your opponent can predict. This is sometimes an acceptable flaw, some attacks force a reaction, allowing you to control the pace of the fight. To further comprehend your technique, identify the gap between your technique, and the simplest sequence of physical movements that could allow you to execute the final strike with the appropriate force and position.¡± I said, letting my voice slip into a regular, pedagogical, cadence. ¡°True mastery is squaring the circle between the metaphysical requirements of your technique, and the physically optimal motions for the particular exchange of blows you are engaging in.¡± I added, throwing in a little profound sounding mystical gibberish. Well, it wasn¡¯t total gibberish, the concept made sense, I just had no idea if it was true or not.

    Oh god, oh fuck. Doors were opening. A bunch of Asian men in robes were slowly filing out of some of the houses, investigating the sudden hurricane.

    ¡°Square the circle¡­¡± The girl muttered.

    I turned on my heel and started walking away. Lesson over, time for a tactful, tactical, retreat. Again, my legs ate up the ground, further accelerating me with every step, and this time I didn¡¯t try to hold back.

    The girl tried to follow me for a moment, before accepting the implied dismissal for what it was.

    "This Su Li will never forget your kindness Elder Hu. Truly, they do not call you the Saint in Crimson for nothing." She shouted at my back.

    I looked down at my robes. The edges were a bright red, but they were mostly black. That seemed like an ominous sort of sobriquet. Her words aside, I really didn¡¯t think they meant the catholic sort of saint.

    Elder Hu, the Saint in Crimson. That was me apparently.

    Quickly, I beat a retreat, before anyone else could try to talk to me, zipping out of the plaza and down the mountainside.

 Chapter 2 - Pedagogy

    Elder Li was not having a good day. It was a rare honor for him to be called into the presence of Sectmaster Meng, and unfortunately such honor usually coincided with additional burdens being heaped upon him. This morning had been no exception. It was almost unheard of, for a demonic sect to throw open its doors, as the Sect Master had done. Half a dozen inner disciples had been tasked with testing mortals, searching for talent like a righteous sect might. A new class every year for a decade, all to be taught their fundamentals by him.

    It was an honor, to be sure. That the Sect Master trusted him with the most foundational of teaching duties. And a colossal imposition. He¡¯d be compensated, indeed, richly rewarded. Sectmaster Meng knew him to be his most loyal subordinate, and the only one of these spoiled brats he called elders that could be trusted to teach children without murdering half of them, but a decade of his life, when he was already ancient for a mortal, and perhaps only had another half century to pursue his art, was a heavy price indeed. Still, with the sect¡¯s largesse, he might finally finish his great work, and step beyond the limits of flesh. Refusal had never been a possibility.

    The plan portended great upheaval in the coming decade to be sure, but for the life of him he could not see where the Sect Master¡¯s plan led. No great conflict with the mortal powers, or their righteous dogs, waited beneath the horizon, so far as he could see. And for the decades he¡¯d known him, Sectmaster Meng had never intimated dreams of conquest. Yet, what would they want such numbers for, if not for war? The riches of the Pathless Night Sect were not endless, and every new disciple meant only a smaller share for the rest.

    Perhaps the Sect Master had found the quality of the disciples lacking, and sought to refine them by blood shed in competition? It didn¡¯t seem likely to him. Already, there was no shortage of that. He would need to watch carefully, these coming days, for hints of what was to come.

    But today, he needed to do nothing more than deliver the same lecture he¡¯d delivered thousands of times before, though never to quite so large a group. A normal ¡®class¡¯ for his introductory series of lectures was perhaps two dozen, and once he¡¯d delivered it to but two students, a pair of noble brats born to parents who had offended the orthodoxy and needed to debase themselves to beg the aid of the Pathless Night, or else see their children¡¯s potential forever stifled.

    Today, over a hundred sat before him. His puppets had cleared a section of the woods, leaving a few felled trees to serve as benches. The few halls the sect had that could seat a hundred were far too fine for a gaggle of children. And most were indeed children, the Pathless Night was no righteous sect that needed to get ahold of them young to indoctrinate them, but this class was far younger than most. The average was perhaps sixteen winters, but he saw a few as young as ten, and a singular woman old enough to be the mother of one of the ten year olds. All born to mortals. He doubted one in ten could read. They chattered amongst themselves quietly, seeking to drown their fear in inanity.

    He twitched a finger of qi, and Yuan responded. The puppet in the form of a great ape lurching forward from its unnatural stillness to bring its hands together above its head. With a thunderous crash, interlaced wooden fingers drove themselves into the dry earth, sending a great plume of dust rushing skyward. A hundred mundane birds fled in a frightened cacophony, and in their wake, silence fell. Yuan sat down placidly before him.

    ¡°You are seated before me, because you have potential.¡± He began, as he had a hundred times before. ¡°The disciples of the Pathless Night saw something in you. Talent. Ambition. Hunger. Skill. A keen eye, or clever fingers. And yet, you are nothing. When offered the chance to abandon all that you had built, sever every tie that bound you, you accepted eagerly. In flight from failure, or in pursuit of dreams of glory, you eagerly turned from the light.

    ¡°I am not here to shepherd you to greatness. Our Sectmaster, your Sectmaster, Meng Xiao, has ordered that you are to be taught. And so I stand before you, my words a chance to change your fate, to grow beyond the place the heavens saw fit to allot you. Cultivation is a winding road of impossible fractal complexity, the facets of the Dao outnumber the stars in the heavens, and to walk your road until its end will require you to find your own truth, and embody it. But first, I will teach you to take your first steps, to make the power that underpins our world your own, and in so doing defy the Order of the Heavens.¡±

    The initiates listened with rapt attention as he explained the steps by which they would condense their first wisps of Qi. The steps were not complicated, but he took care to go slowly, explaining every detail, every sensation they might watch for as a sign of progress. Most would fail to take their first step today all the same. The best of the peasantry these might be, but they were peasants all the same, and young besides. There was only so much he could expect from them. Indeed, most of his lecture was not even on the subject of cultivation, but the most basic of meditative techniques, to give these squirming children a mental toolkit they might use to quiet their ceaseless fidgeting and look inward.

    Simple breathing techniques. Visualizations. Counting. Focusing on sections of the body in sequence, before dismissing them. Handling intrusive thoughts. His lecture stretched on for nearly three hours without even touching on the mechanics of cultivation beyond the presence of qi.

    It was almost meditative, in a way, though he wouldn¡¯t dare try to progress his cultivation as he taught. Beyond any risk to himself, he would scour the area dry of its already thin qi if he did so, and so waste his own time by depriving the disciples of any chance of taking their first step here.

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    A few of the younger children broke as time passed, hunger or the need to urinate overcoming their meager impulse control, and were removed by his disciples. They would learn, and do better, or be cast out from the Night.

    As he gave once more the lecture he''d given a thousand times before, Elder Li noticed an anomaly. In the back of the clearing stood a figure. Clad in robes that were not the standard sect uniform, black edged in red, instead of the midnight blue of an elder, it took him a moment to place him.

    It was that¡­ brute.

    Hu Xin, the sect master''s rabid dog. The elder who had not merely declined to take a disciple, or teach a class, but refrained from even delivering a single lecture, for fifty years. A man who consumed the resources of an elder, but offered the sect nothing but violence.

    And now this animal had the gall to intrude upon the duty the sect master had entrusted him? He stood there, a questioning expression on his face, as if he had opinions on the content of his lecture.

    The arrogance! Mighty though the man was, what did he who had never taught know of teaching! A hunting dog had his place, and that place was not a lecture hall, however makeshift.

    "Of the many facets of night, one of the most prominent is deception. Predation, crime, espionage, all of these acts belong to the night. The most basic cycling technique of the Pathless Night, the Liar¡¯s Breath leverages this affinity.¡± Elder Li continued, his lecture flowing smoothly into its more esoteric portion. He would not allow this dog to interrupt the sect¡¯s business. ¡°You will ingress qi through any set of meridians of your choosing, except the mouth. Once ingressed, you will join this qi into a singular stream via the governing vessel, and cycle it through the heart meridian. Upon exhaling, you will egress the qi through the mouth via the conception vessel. Done properly, qi will begin to accumulate within your flesh, and over time, you will eventually come to be aware of it.

    Elder Hu tilted his head, as if asking ¡®Are you sure?¡¯

    Li Qiu ignored him.

    ¡°Though the Liar¡¯s Breath is a technique of deception, its aspecting is not relevant to initiates like yourselves. The first form of the breath merely leverages this aspect to provide a simplified cycling pattern, the qi that is left behind will be so weakly aspected that it scarcely merits the designation. However, this is not true of the higher variations of the breath. In order to attain the status of disciple, and the right to leave the sect, the sect will expect you to master the second stage of the breath, and at least one associated technique, in order to be able to conceal your cultivation from others.¡±

    Elder Hu frowned.

    Elder Li did not frown at him in turn, unlike the dog he had a modicum of self control. Did he think the Empty Breath beneath him? Was he so much a fool he could not recognize the value it offered the rest of the sect, who could not hope to resolve every dispute by waving a sword at it?

    One of the younger students noticed the tall form lurking behind him, and fell over with a squeak. And just like that, their attention was lost. Three hours of teaching, disrupted.

    ¡°I see the venerable Elder Hu has elected to join us today.¡± Elder Li said, gesturing towards the interloper. A hundred initiates turned to stare at the man. Murmurs resounded through the audience. They¡¯d heard of him, of course they had. The elder in red trimmed robes. The peerless Sword Saint. The one man who might possibly be as strong as Sectmaster Meng. The new blood always idolized him, up until they realized what it meant that he took no students, or one of them challenged him to a duel and got beheaded in front of his fellow disciples.

    Still, this was beyond the pale. What absolute shamelessness, for a man who had not given a single lecture in the entire preceding half-century, to question him, the elder whose teachings had built the very foundation of the current generation, and would do the same for the next.

    If he wished to sit in judgment, he could contribute.

    ¡°Perhaps Elder Hu would like to elaborate upon the Empty Breath, and its importance as a foundational technique of the sect.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel that is necessary. I¡¯m confident Elder¡­¡± Elder Hu said, pausing as if he¡¯d forgotten Elder Li¡¯s name. ¡°You will impart a full understanding of the technique and its importance upon the younger generation.¡±

    The audacity! To pretend he didn¡¯t know Li Qiu¡¯s name!

    ¡°If Elder Hu has forgotten how to perform the Empty Breath, perhaps he would care to enlighten the audience as to the dao of the sword. Surely he can at least remember the one skill Sectmaster Meng keeps him around for.¡± Elder Li said through clenched teeth. So what if the man was powerful? Such insults had to be repaid in kind. Beneath the sleeves of his robes, he adjusted his fingers, preparing Mei and Xue to intercept. His students chittered like wild monkeys, too naive to understand what it would mean, for two elders to exchange blows so close to them.

    Elder Hu took a moment to consider before responding.

    "Sorry." The old monster said. "I''ve already done enough teaching for today."

    And then he turned around and walked away, and it was all that Li Qiu could do to restrain himself from throwing Yuan at the man. What the hell was the point of all of that? Had he nothing better to do than make a nuisance of himself!

    Even as the initiates gossiped and Elder Li fumed, one of the outer disciples who¡¯d taken the sect mission to assist Elder Li with the initiates for a meager twenty contribution points a week, began to wonder. What exactly did Elder Hu mean, that he''d done enough teaching for today? Everyone knew the man didn¡¯t teach disciples.

 Chapter 3 - A Little Light Reading

    ¡°Could you please bring me a selection of beginner materials relating to sword cultivation?¡°

    It was an innocuous request. The sort of request one usually got from initiates who had just earned their first session of access to the library. The kind of thing asked by bumpkins who did not understand that this was a sect repository, not the local township¡¯s archives, and they did not simply get to peruse a few dozen manuals before selecting their favorite, and they certainly did not get to waste an inner disciple¡¯s time to do so.

    Except this time it wasn¡¯t an outer disciple asking, it was the Saint in Crimson. Inner Disciple Liang Tao had never spoken to the man before, had never even seen him except for disciple initiation and new year ceremonies. The man usually floated high above, so high the mortal initiates probably couldn¡¯t even make him out except as a red speck. He never taught, or took on any as disciples. Tao had only ever heard his voice once, when he answered a question directly posed to him by the sect master with a single word. He just cultivated, emerged every few years to utterly eradicate some threat the sect master pointed him at, and then returned to cultivation.

    And today, he¡¯d just wandered into the Repository of Long Night, sat down at a table intended for outer disciples to wait for service, rather than wander the shelves directly, as was his right as an elder.

    Core Disciple Meng Ying had given him a look that clearly communicated the old monster was his problem, not hers, and he was almost as scared of her as he was of the Saint. And so, here he found himself, fetching books for the second most dangerous man in the sect.

    ¡°I¡¯m done with this stack.¡± Elder Hu said, gesturing at a pile of precious manuals carelessly stacked nearly two feet high. ¡°More please. Fewer of the cultivation manuals, more technique ones, and any more supplementary materials you can find, especially related to the natures of air and metal qi.¡±

    The polite phrasing aside, it was very clearly not a request. The man had been here almost twelve hours, his shift should have ended an hour ago. And yet Liang Tao leapt to obey. There was never any question. Disappointing an Elder was bad. Disappointing this Elder was¡­ A fate too terrible to contemplate.

    He desperately hoped his next selections would hold whatever the man was looking for. He racked his brain for the most powerful, esoteric early stage manuals he¡¯d ever come across. Whatever technique or method the saint was looking for would surely be in one of those.

    <hr>

    In the privacy of my own mind, I could admit to myself that my circumstances terrified me. I¡¯d been transmigrated into some sort of Xianxia setting. Sure, I¡¯d occasionally enjoyed that sort of trashy literature in my past life, and I¡¯d never been the sort of person to shy away from violence. I was, perhaps, a little better prepared for such a fate than most.

    I was not going to trust my life to genre savviness and plot armor in a world where failure might mean having my soul torn apart, being stuck in a jar for ten thousand years, or being exsanguinated from every orifice by some unfathomable ancestor¡¯s spiritual pressure. And my starting position was probably not ideal. I was an elder of some sort. Apparently not the most important of elders, from the reaction I¡¯d gotten from the man teaching those children. That wasn¡¯t generally the sort of starting position that heaven defying protagonists began from. Closer to the position one of their stepping stones on the way to heaven might occupy. The only story I could even think of that began like this, was the one with the disfavored teacher who was the reincarnation of Confucius or something.

    Somehow, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be getting some sort of magical library cheat code like him. That was rather how my luck had always been, good enough to eke out a good life with care and effort, but remarkable in neither direction. I would have to be careful to avoid offending any young protagonist types. Even if my sword could shake the skies, I wasn¡¯t keen on sowing the seeds of a hostile encounter with some chosen whippersnapper who snorted tribulation lightning and destroyed secret realms by passing wind. Caution would be the name of the game, I¡¯d already made one enemy through carelessness, I¡¯d need to avoid offending anyone else, disciple or elder, if it was at all possible. And yet, I had to do something. Sitting in my little manor, letting the world pass me by, would gain me nothing, even if the boredom didn¡¯t drive me mad. The only way to learn about the world was to be in it after all. My musings rather ran in circles after that thought, it was hard to make productive plans on so little information.

    So, old habits resurfaced, and I did what I¡¯d always done when I wanted to avoid actually taking action. I read. I¡¯d found the library by accident, passing the clearing in which it stood alone as I zoomed through the woods. The shock of being able to read the sign, to see vaguely Chinese characters and yet somehow know that they meant ¡®The Repository of Long Night¡¯s Memory¡¯, brought me to a standstill. Curiosity had drawn me closer, but the emptiness of the building, the wide halls of dark wooden panels so clearly devoid of important people to offend, had sealed the deal.

    I¡¯d wandered in, finding myself in a massive pavilion filled with tables surrounded by three walls filled with bookshelves.

    And yet, the moment I sat down at a table to get my bearings, an attendant had zoomed down to ask what I needed. The young man had taken the stairs three at a time, in a furious rush to reach my table. I¡¯d made the elementary mistake of not looking up. All the attendants seemed to be on the second floor, looking down to monitor the sort of lobby space of the first. But, with him already here, staring at me, turning back hadn¡¯t been an option.

    I hadn¡¯t been sure what I was authorized to access, so I erred on the side of caution, asking for beginner materials. Those at least should be well within the clearance of even the lowest of elders. In the worst case, I had the excuse of wanting to brush up before teaching other disciples. I somehow doubted Su Li would be the last to beg pointers from me. The helpful attendant had obliged, nearly burying me in books, and for the first time since I¡¯d woken up this morning, I felt in my element.

    Much of what I was reading might as well have been Greek to me. Many authors buried the deeper meaning of their work beneath a hundred layers of tortured metaphor. Others assumed a large body of preexisting knowledge, referring to meridians by number, or making reference to other texts I assumed they expected the reader to have at hand. Some of it, I could puzzle out. One technique that called for the reader to ¡®alloy their will with lightning, to make one their eyes and hands¡¯ clearly seemed to be a sort of nervous system overclocking technique. Others left me stumped, I had no idea how one was meant to ¡®imbibe the smoke of revelry, and let joy enter the second palace, while condemning memory to the fourth tomb¡¯. From context, it seemed like a cultivation technique for absorbing energy from a bar or party, but the mechanics of it were far beyond me. Most of the cultivation manuals fell into that latter category, but eventually, I was able to put together a basic understanding of at least what the early stages of cultivation looked like from the outside.

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    The initiate¡¯s realm was the twin stages of qi gathering and qi condensation, which were simultaneously pursued, and used almost interchangeably as names for the stage. It was characterized by the cultivator slowly deepening their control of and capacity for qi. Initiates were intensely dependent on external sources of qi, being both unable to generate their own, and their dantians tending to slowly leak what qi they did hold. In the first stage, they filled their meridians and a single dantian with qi, then in the second, they sought to compress it until it achieved a liquid state. It seemed simple enough, but I¡¯d seen references in manuals to meridians by both name and number, and some of those numbers had been in the low hundreds. Apparently which dantian was used mattered, and the pattern of meridians qi entered and exited through was determined by both the aspect of the qi and the technique in question. I¡¯d read more than a dozen manuals for initiates, but I still hadn¡¯t the foggiest idea of the principles by which those patterns operated.

    The second realm was the disciple¡¯s, which consisted of the stage of foundation establishment. Becoming a disciple required one to solidify their qi into a state where it no longer slowly trickled away from their control. Graduating the stage required one to form a core, which would generate qi of their own, turning their cultivation from a well, however deep, to a spring that could renew itself. Each manual promised different superhuman talents to disciples that cultivated it, but most of them were very light on details, so it was hard to tell exactly how powerful disciples were, compared to baseline mortals.

    After core formation, there was nothing. Almost nothing in the manuals, or reference materials. Perhaps the manuals were all too low level, but I suspected it was more complicated than that. One of the only manuals that included instructions for forming a core, the Path of the Endless Sword, had made reference to ¡®the myriad paths to the heavens¡¯ in its concluding chapter. The only reference text that mentioned the subject simply noted that ¡®it is in attaining core formation, that one truly earns the right to call themselves a cultivator¡¯.

    I had no real idea where my new body stood beneath the heavens. Not qi condensation certainly, I could feel the power beneath my skin, a barely restrained violence longing to inflict itself upon the world. I didn¡¯t know for certain my body held a core, but it seemed like a safe bet. I¡¯d reached carelessly into the power within me, and for all that I¡¯d thrown about hurricane winds and traversed the mountain at superhuman speeds, I didn¡¯t feel any worse for it. Either my foundation was unfathomably deep, or I had a core.

    Idly, I poked at my belly. Was it a physical object? A great big marble buried in there? Could I touch it if I cut myself open? Would my new powers heal me?

    Questions for another day. Still, even after hours of pouring over scrolls, there was so much basic information I didn¡¯t know. Even now, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to answer the question that Elder put to me, I didn¡¯t know what the Empty Breath was, let alone how to perform it. From context, it seemed to be the cultivation-concealing technique he¡¯d mentioned, but nothing I¡¯d read had told me anything about it. And asking for a copy of my own sect¡¯s foundational cultivation method, which as an Elder I¡¯d be expected to teach to others, seemed like a bad idea. Maybe I could pass it off as being for Su Li, once I confirmed that she wouldn¡¯t already have been given a paper copy.

    Still, any information was better than none. The attendant, probably an outer disciple from the stories I¡¯d read, had been remarkably helpful. And he hadn¡¯t asked me a single question about what I was doing, or tried to make small talk, which I was even more thankful for. I wasn¡¯t sure if I was supposed to tip the library staff, but when in doubt, it usually paid to err on the side of generosity. One of the books had clued me in to the fact that the ring on my finger was a storage treasure, and provided a very beginner friendly guide to accessing it. I imagined money, and reached out to it with the strange new sort of pseudo-sense that was apparently my qi. It responded with a rock, a clear translucent blue stone that somehow felt like the land after a storm.

    ¡°Thank you, for your assistance. I¡¯m done with all of these.¡± I told the attendant, gesturing at the massive pile that had sprouted from the table I¡¯d planted myself at.

    I handed the spirit stone to the disciple as I left.

    I stood and exited the library, wondering how long I¡¯d spent poring over tomes. An afternoon perhaps? I¡¯d gone through an impressive amount of material, but perhaps that was this body¡¯s cultivation aiding my already prodigious ability to read? It couldn¡¯t have been too long, it was still light outside. I¡¯d been able to tear through nearly a thousand words a minute as a mortal, I was quite curious to know how much I¡¯d improved. I would need to time it later, after I nailed down how the density of text compared between the two languages.

    As I exited the library, I realized I had no idea how to get back to my house. That was¡­ Decidedly suboptimal. Oh well, I supposed I would simply need to wander about a while longer.

    <hr>

    Liang Tao stared down at his hand. Elder Hu¡¯s hand had been shockingly warm, and at the same time felt wet, as if slicked with fresh blood, and yet so dry they left not a trace of oil or moisture behind at the contact.

    Twenty hours. A foundation establishment cultivator could go days without sleep, but he¡¯d been awake for two already before Elder Hu showed up. He¡¯d read almost an entire day and night, forced an inner disciple to wait on him like a servant because he couldn¡¯t be bothered to learn how the library organized manuals. He¡¯d spent an entire day hovering just at the appropriate distance to be there in a moment if the monster needed more books, but far enough away to avoid even the intimation of spying. He¡¯d neglected all his other duties, spent hours guiding his breath along the forms of Scripture of the Hollow Sky, not cultivating, just keeping his exterior utterly calm.

    And he¡¯d given him a high grade spirit stone, ¡®for his assistance¡¯. Liang Tao had never even seen one of this quality, the closest comparison he had was his master¡¯s set of calligraphy brushes, which had dust of a similar potency mixed into the enamel. And it was aspected to Heaven. It was nearly the perfect gift for a student of the Hollow Sky like him. He could spend a year cultivating off this without the need for any other resources, or keep it only for breakthroughs and open a dozen meridians without buying a single pill.

    In other circumstances, he might have been tempted to sell information about what the elder had been looking for to the brokers of the sect¡¯s rumor mill. Anything related to Elder Hu would draw interest. That he was looking into beginner manuals? The very suggestion that he might be considering taking a student? It was world shaking, compared to most of what flowed through the rumor mill. Every high ranking outer disciple, and more than a few of the inner ones, would be vying for that honor. However, in the face of such generosity? He would tell Master Liang, the matter was too public not to. But he would otherwise take the most mundane of the Saint¡¯s secrets to his grave.

 Chapter 4 - A Persistent Little Devil

    In the end, I found my way home eventually. It was the sounds that beckoned me there in the end. Much of the mountain was dead. Hundreds of mansions, in states ranging from utter decrepitude, to seemingly untouched by nature, and yet empty and silent. It was perhaps one in ten that showed signs of life. Those, and the pristine yet empty ones, I studiously avoided. I¡¯d fucked up enough social interactions for the day, the last thing I needed to do was wander into someone¡¯s unoccupied house.

    The decayed shells though, eventually my curiosity got the better of me. There was little to find, any esoteric treasures had long since been taken. But some of the mundane bits and bobs hadn¡¯t. In one blasted out wreck of a three room house, I found a nice stoneware stove, sort of a ceramic bowl with a chamber for fire beneath, and a mortar and pestle. I wondered what had happened here, to leave it missing a full wall and a half. Were the sect¡¯s disciples powerful enough that a dispute between them could leave buildings wrecked? Had it been a more mundane fire? After a little thinking, I stuffed both the stove and mortar into my storage ring. After a few seconds of visualization, both pieces vanished with very satisfying gentle pops, though doing the stove took a lot out of me. Apparently the qi expenditure scaled with volume or mass, it was the first time I truly noticed a dip in my inner well of power. It wasn¡¯t the most pleasant sensation, there was no pain or discomfort, but my limbs felt physically weaker than they¡¯d been, as if my blood pressure had suddenly dropped. Thankfully, my channels began refilling themselves almost immediately, without any effort on my part, confirming that I was at least in core formation. I was still a little leery of trying to actively manipulate a cultivation base I didn¡¯t understand, lest I give myself a qi deviation or something. I didn¡¯t even know what sort of cultivator this body had belonged to, beyond the fact that he carried a sword, and knew at least one technique that manipulated the wind.

    I found myself musing that perhaps heaven had smiled upon me, for indulging my inner Xianxia protagonist and looting everything that wasn¡¯t nailed down, because almost immediately afterwards I finally found my way home.

    The sounds of chatter were the first sign. Some of the other mansions, I¡¯d seen signs of life like robes hanging out to dry, people going about chores, or even just a nebulous sense of presence. But never more than two or three people. This was a crowd in the distance on the edge of my hearing, and after half a day of wandering I was desperate enough to risk accidentally crashing another lecture.

    On my way in, I found the signs I¡¯d missed during my frantic flight, naming the plaza as the ¡®First Court Under Night¡¯. There was also an honest to goodness sign post, with actual arrows pointing at various paths, including destinations such as the library I¡¯d visited earlier, and the ¡®Night Market¡¯. Apparently we took the night related branding seriously around here.

    The First Court appeared to be a combination of meeting ground and housing district. The tall wooden pillars I¡¯d noticed before seemed to be some sort of notice board, which seemed a little odd to me. They were half a dozen feet wide at the base, leaving plenty of room for things to be tacked to them. But they also extended thirty feet in the air, and I could see papers all the way up at the top, though the density definitely reduced the higher you went up the pillar. The only thing I could think of was that the top of the pillar contained notices for people who could fly? Anything else would be silly.

    Hell, the whole thing was silly. Those pillars had to weigh thousands of pounds, they were the size of giant redwoods. Shit, if the plaza itself wasn¡¯t so colossal, hundreds of meters from one side to the other, they¡¯d be in danger of taking a house down with them if they ever fell over.

    A few dozen disciples were crowded around them, the source of the chattering I¡¯d heard. I gave them a wide berth.

    My home was easy enough to find, I hadn¡¯t exactly memorized my address, but I did remember it was one of the smaller ones. Getting a better look at the totality of the plaza, it was in fact the smallest one, and one of only a few without an enclosed courtyard.

    It was also the only one with a girl kowtowing on the doorstep.

    The girl who¡¯d begged me for swordsmanship lessons.

    The reason I¡¯d accidentally almost blown half a dozen houses down.

    With a colossal sigh, I kept moving towards her. She wouldn¡¯t follow me into the house, I just had to step over her, and avoid getting asked any more questions I didn¡¯t know the answer to.

    A few other disciples stood around her prostrate form, talking amongst themselves. One of them caught sight of my approach, and grabbed the other two disciples by their sleeves and all but dragged them away. I didn¡¯t mind, but it left me curious what they¡¯d been discussing. Had they been¡­ bullying her? Was that why the girl was so desperate? As the other three disciples ran off, the prostrate girl from earlier turned around shimmying on her knees, still maintaining her kowtow, but now facing towards me rather than my doorway.

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    ¡°Please Elder Hu, accept me as your disciple! Your teachings yesterday opened this unworthy Su Li¡¯s eyes to how little manuals can teach of the sword.¡±

    Yesterday? That couldn¡¯t be right. Inadvertently, I paused as I tried to figure out just how long I¡¯d spent in that library.

    Su Li pounced on my hesitation.

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t accept many disciples, but this Su Li will work harder than any before her! If you but give me a chance, I swear I will bring honor to your teachings!¡± Like a dam breaking, words flooded forth from the girl, as she launched into a clearly rehearsed speech. ¡°I swear to honor and respect you as my father, to strive with my utmost¡­¡±

    I tuned her stream of platitudes out, as a thought struck me. Could I get away with not accepting a disciple long enough to actually learn how to cultivate? Maybe, but I didn¡¯t think so. Apparently I¡¯d already not taken one for a while, and from my small house and the attitude that the Elder teaching the class had towards me, I imagined I wasn¡¯t the most esteemed figure around here. Which meant I was probably first for the chopping block if I didn¡¯t perform. And what happened when I finally took a student? A genius would see through me immediately, an average student wouldn¡¯t get any benefit from my guidance. But someone already struggling, that no elder had accepted like her?

    If she didn¡¯t learn that much, would anyone truly be surprised? Or would they just chalk it up to a poor teacher and a dearth of talent and get on with their lives? It was cold¡­ But I was as desperate as her in a way, I didn¡¯t like my odds of survival if the truth of my incompetence got out.

    ¡°All the inner disciples talk about how your swordsmanship is peerless, that you vanquished the Sage of Summer¡¯s Heart by cutting through¡­¡±

    Oh god, she was still talking.

    ¡°Enough.¡± I said, cutting her off. She fell silent immediately, dropping her head back into a full kowtow. ¡°Follow me.¡± This was not a conversation I wanted to have on the porch. I stepped around her, pushing aside my unlocked door as I stepped into my one room house. Everything was as I¡¯d left it, including the wine cup I¡¯d broken by accident. I stored that in my ring before Su Li could see it, and sat down on the cushion I¡¯d woken up on. Quietly, Su Li followed me in.

    ¡°Thank you Elder Hu, I swear you will not regret this.¡± She said, again taking up her prostrate position opposite me.

    ¡°That was not a yes. Sit up and face me. Why do you want to learn from me?¡±

    ¡°Because you are the greatest swordsman in the Pathless Night Sect, and I must master the blade beyond all others of my generation if I am to achieve my goals.¡± Su Li said, staring into my eyes.

    Was that true? Or was she just trying to butter me up?

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to be told of my own skills.¡± I lied through my teeth, I really did, just from a more reliable source. ¡°Why do you wish to learn the sword?¡±

    Su Li looked down again, but at least this time she didn¡¯t kowtow.

    ¡°There is a man I must kill. A general. He killed my father, and I must avenge him.¡±

    I frowned. I didn¡¯t know why, but I¡¯d expected something more frivolous.

    ¡°In a distant land, there is a proverb. Before one embarks on a journey of revenge, first dig two graves. If your vengeance would cost your life, would you still seek it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The man who raised me deserves nothing less.¡±

    Su Li raised her head again, to look straight at me, and I could see tears in the corner of her eyes.

    ¡°Please Elder Hu, teach me. I have no karma with the arts of Elder Li or Elder Xin. I am no great scholar. My talent at cultivation is lacking. My only gift has ever been the sword. The other Elders¡­ They have refused to teach me, or asked things of me that I cannot give. I will not dishonor what my father taught me. But I have spent three years as an initiate, and my own talents, and the small secrets I have managed to beg and barter will see me no farther.¡±

    It took all I had not to look away from her, from the sheer pain and resolve on her face. I couldn¡¯t let my mask break. It was all that protected me. But all the same, I let as much honestly as I could afford slip into my answer. I did not want to give her false hope, she deserved more than that.

    ¡°I cannot give you power. It is not an accident that I do not teach. I do not know how to make another into the sort of man that I am. I am not sure that I would mold another in my image, even if I could.¡±

    ¡°I do not care. I believe in you. I must. I will learn anything you can teach me. I give all that I have to any task that you set before me. I will not live beneath the same sky as the man who killed my father.

    ¡°Please.¡± She finished, hiding her face in another kowtow.

    I sighed.

    ¡°Raise your head. I will teach you what I can. But first, I could use some firewood.¡±

 Chapter 5 - Lessons and Invitations

    I needed time to think. Test how things worked. Plan lessons.

    But needs must when the devil drives, my new disciple needed something to do. So, I mister-miyagi¡¯ed her.

    After my misadventure with the lecture, I¡¯d been frustrated, as I wandered the grounds of the sect. I¡¯d been leery of drawing my sword again, after I¡¯d nearly left a dozen disciples homeless the last time I¡¯d taken it up, but frustration and curiosity had gotten the better of me. With a single swing, I¡¯d sliced a tree in two. No fancy storm-winds, no muscling through it with supernatural strength. Just a single clean swing, and a mid-size tree lying in two pieces before me. I hadn¡¯t even been close enough for the length of the blade to fully sever the trunk. That apparently hadn¡¯t mattered at all.

    It was such a strange sensation. I did it, with effortless ease, but I didn¡¯t know how. It was like reinforcing my limbs, or the movement technique I¡¯d unconsciously performed in the plaza. A thing my body or qi did without my knowledge or understanding. I swung the sword. It cut.

    I knew it was possible. But I didn¡¯t know what it was, let alone how to teach it to another. Sword intent? Material reinforcement? A projected edge of qi? Perhaps it was even a property of my sword, and not my cultivation. I doubted it though. For lack of a better word, my sword felt normal. It wasn¡¯t mundane, but I somehow knew that what was special about it, was that it was mine.

    And so, I found myself standing with my new student in front of a tree.

    ¡°Master, I don¡¯t have an axe.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a cultivator. It¡¯s a small tree.¡±

    Su Li looked between the tree and her sword, then turned her eyes to the ground.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry master, but this sword, it¡¯s all I have left of my father.¡± She said, refusing to meet my eyes.

    ¡°If you fear to damage it, then don¡¯t use it. There are rocks here. You have hands. You have qi. You have a technique that doesn¡¯t require your sword to touch the tree. Figure it out.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ Why? I don¡¯t understand. Should I not practice forms, or trade pointers with another disciple?¡±

    ¡°Really? You¡¯re worried about blunting your sword against a tree, but you want to spar with another cultivator with it? This tree has no fearsome martial techniques. No urgent deadline weighs upon you. Enough Qi is present in the air for you to cycle whenever you run your dantian dry. You have a jug of water. Try. Fail. Try something else. Failure is the mother of invention and success alike. Are you so bereft of imagination that the prospect of a blank page before you terrifies you?

    ¡°Watch.¡± I said, and drew my sword. I swung, and the world parted. With glacial slowness, the severed trunk slid downwards, along the diagonal path I¡¯d cut. As it fell to the ground, I noted a deep gash in the tree behind it, its crescent path continuing into a thin trench gouged deep into the earth. I¡¯d have to watch that.

    I turned to leave.

    ¡°If you truly cannot do something so simple, then go find an ax. Return to my house before this time tomorrow, with as much wood as you manage to gather.¡±

    It was a little harsh, but it didn¡¯t feel unreasonable. Worst case, she¡¯d beg or borrow an axe. Best case, she¡¯d learn something. After a moment, I paused. Su Li seemed like she might be an overachiever, and I didn¡¯t know how much more space my storage ring had.

    ¡°Limit yourself to three trees worth at the most. I don¡¯t actually need that much wood. Quartered logs, pieces no longer than your forearm. You can use that tree as one of your three, if you wish, no sense wasting it.¡±

    <hr>

    Su Li didn¡¯t know what she was feeling.

    She¡¯d succeeded. An elder had acknowledged her. Said he would teach her. Elder Hu was strange, but so were all the others. She felt like she could trust him. She couldn¡¯t say that about most of the other elders, except maybe Elder Li.

    He¡¯d made no mention of accepting her as his disciple. That was fine. She couldn¡¯t expect his acknowledgement as a mere initiate. He would accept her when she reached foundation establishment. She knew he would. He wasn¡¯t like the other elders, so wrapped up in their own little worlds, or venal and lascivious.

    Sure, he¡¯d told her to cut wood. It wasn¡¯t a lesson, but initiates did all sorts of chores. Even outer disciples weren¡¯t above them. But the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach wrestling with her joy wasn¡¯t frustration. It was fear.

    It wasn¡¯t a chore. It was a test. Three trees, he¡¯d said. No more than three trees. That meant no less than three trees. The first task her master set her, she would not, could not, disappoint him.

    His sword qi had been so absolute, so certain, the tree had parted for him like water. No, not like water, like a dream in the face of the morning sun. It hadn''t been destroyed by the weight of overwhelming power, it had been facing something that there was never any possibility of resisting in the first place.

    She couldn¡¯t do that. But if her sword couldn¡¯t be sharp enough to make the world bleed like his, then her resolve would be unbreakable. He used a sword, and so she would as well. She had twenty four hours. The moon would rise in two.

    She unwrapped her father¡¯s ruined sword. Her eyes traced the burrs along its edge. She imagined the desperate scene, Su Han standing alone, surrounded by a hundred men, forced by the weight of the press to take blow after blow on the edge of his sword. A forest of spears, a wall of bodies. A hero dragged down into the mud by a legion of cowards who would never have dared face him alone.

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    Three trees. Segments the length of her forearm. Perhaps twelve full cuts across the trunk. Thirty six full cuts, and thirty six log segments to quarter. Elder Hu hadn¡¯t mentioned the branches, she¡¯d have to include those too. Maybe eight branches per tree to be cut to size.

    Perhaps a hundred cuts? More, if she couldn¡¯t sever the trunk with one Waxing Crescent. She could do perhaps three cuts before exhausting herself. She had one day. Could she replenish her qi fast enough to make the math work? She¡¯d never timed it. Never had to.

    It didn¡¯t matter. She could sleep when her father was avenged. When her family was avenged. If the math didn¡¯t work, she would make it work.

    The pure unearthly white of the moon shrouded her blade, and Su Li went to work.

    <hr>

    One day. Twenty four hours. That was how long I had to find something that I could actually teach Su Li. I knew she used lunar qi. Her technique, or perhaps cultivation method was called the Manual of the Passing Moon. I remembered that, she mentioned it after she demonstrated that move for me. I would need to see if the repository had a copy, or a more complete version.

    Could I teach her anything I knew about swordsmanship? I knew people used bamboo and pool noodles to practice cutting with proper edge alignment. That might buy me a few hours. Even if I was confident in my own ability to teach sword forms, which I certainly wasn¡¯t, I still wasn¡¯t sure I could even swing a sword without breaking something now. I¡¯d need to find a wooden sword eventually and test that too.

    What were my priorities? Bamboo first. I¡¯d passed groves, I knew it was a real training exercise, and what good performance looked like. I could lend her a sword whose edge didn¡¯t have a thousand notches on it, my storage ring had plenty of spare blades, despite lacking a single bokken or stave for practice.

    Cultivation second. I didn¡¯t know anything, but she would expect me to. I could at least try to find a copy of her manual, and some reference materials related to lunar qi. Anything else would have to wait. Even if I found a wooden sword somewhere, or grabbed a stick, I didn¡¯t have any formal training to impart. If I ran out of material, I¡¯d just have to set her some physical exercises, or work grappling forms with her. That subject at least, I was confident enough of my skill to teach. Perhaps agreeing to teach her on impulse had been a mistake.

    Normally, I would have said no. By nature, I''d always been a planner. I didn¡¯t let others take advantage of me, I only moved after considering every potential outcome. But the way she¡¯d ended her plea. She would not live under the same sky as the man who¡¯d killed her father. She would kill herself, if she couldn''t kill him. Not by her own hand, but she¡¯d take her shot, even if it was futile.

    I was pretty sure I needed a student-beard, to at least present a fig leaf that I was contributing something to this sect. She definitely needed a better teacher than me, but if I was her last hope, I couldn¡¯t do worse than offer her nothing.

    As I opened my door to go gather bamboo, I found yet another disciple waiting for me.

    <hr>

    Liang Tao felt sweat bead under his arms as he stood in front of the door to Elder Hu''s dwelling. He''d thought that he had left underarm sweat behind when he''d taken his first steps towards Body Reformation. This week had proved him so very wrong.

    He''d underestimated Master Liang''s dislike for Elder Hu. Using him to deliver an invitation, it was tantamount to admitting that he was the one who informed her of his reading material. It was yet another reminder that he couldn¡¯t trust his master not to throw him to the wolves on a whim. Even Elder Hu couldn¡¯t just kill him, that would be stealing from Master Liang¡¯s oh so precious hoard, her fangs would come out for that. But if the man beat him, under the guise of offering him pointers? There was nothing he could do to defend himself, nothing his master would do to avenge his injury, so long as his face and cultivation were not permanently damaged. He couldn¡¯t even fault the man for it, after his princely gift, he¡¯d immediately ran to betray his confidence. But there had been nothing for it, Liang Ai had no use for a tool that served two masters.

    He¡¯d knocked, but gotten no answer. Master Liang had not deigned to give him a physical invitation, and Elder Hu had no servants or disciples, so all he could do was wait. It was noon, for all that meant within the Pathless Night. He was an inner disciple, and it seemed like all he was good for these days was waiting at the whim of his betters. He almost envied the outer disciples. At least their labors were productive, yielding food or other necessities of life. At least this time he could cultivate, the first plaza was the administrative seat of the outer sect, and with the proximity of so many elders, its qi was more than thick enough for him to make use of.

    Seven hundred and sixty four times, he cycled his cultivation according to the Scripture of the Hollow Sky, before the door opened.

    Elder Hu was not a large man. He was of average height for a mortal man, which left him slightly on the shorter side for a cultivator. He was powerfully muscled, but not to the extent of a dedicated body cultivator, or even one of Elder Wang''s disciples. His face was not ugly, but it was more stern than handsome, and nothing compared to the beauty of his master, or Elder Xin. Yet, there was something about his presence, an edge to it, terrifying, even for an elder.

    It wasn¡¯t the weight of his cultivation, he didn¡¯t throw it around like Elder Liang did, claiming the very air around him. It was the nature of his qi, the feeling it evoked. It sung of slaughter, sharp and wet and warm, but so did many of his sect brothers. A man did not grow up in a demonic sect and somehow end up unfamiliar with slaughter or sword cultivators. There was something else there, buried beneath, that he couldn¡¯t place. Something that lent his presence a weight those swaggering fools lacked. He pushed deeper, trying to pin it down. His skin felt slick and warm, clenched fists remembered their purpose. Legions roared and the sky wept. Great wheels ground swords to ash. And through it all, a man laughed.

    ¡°What?¡± Elder Hu asked bluntly, startling Liang Tao out of his stupefaction. He felt his face flush, then pale. He¡¯d gotten so distracted he completely forgotten where he was. He¡¯d inspected an Elder¡¯s qi deeply. He¡¯d inspected Elder Hu¡¯s qi deeply.

    Empty night, he was a dead man. He could kill him for this, and even Master Liang wouldn¡¯t save him.

    ¡°Honored Elder Hu, Elder Liang wishes this small one to convey to you an invitation to join her and a small gathering of your peers for tea.¡±

    Elder Hu just stared at him, no doubt deciding how to kill him. Perhaps if he was lucky, he would simply demand compensation from Master Liang in exchange for sparing him. He¡¯d be demoted, certainly. If not worse.

    The son of an Elder, an outer disciple. He¡¯d be the laughingstock of the sect. At least he¡¯d get to stop interacting with old monsters regularly. He could do his mother¡¯s laundry instead. His siblings too, he supposed. Maybe the whole household. It was just laundry, how long could one person¡¯s worth take, a few hours? He waited for the blade to fall, it was all he could do not to close his eyes.

    ¡°Where and when?¡±

    Wait, what?

    ¡°At her dwelling upon the first plaza, at a time of your choosing.¡± Liang Tao responded mechanically.

    ¡°The day after tomorrow then, at dawn. I need to arrange some things for my student.¡± Elder Hu said, as he walked away.

    Dawn? Who had a tea ceremony at dawn in this sect? Why wasn¡¯t he dead? Elder Hu had a student? Liang Tao shivered. Why did Elder Hu keep telling him things he was honor bound to pass onto his master? Nothing good could come of getting between those two ancient rivals.

 Chapter 6 - Errands

    I shivered. That disciple¡¯s presence had been unsettling. Like someone breathing down your neck. He hadn¡¯t felt like that at the library. He¡¯d been doing something, but I wasn¡¯t sure what. I was starting to get the hang of feeling the shape of my own qi, at least enough to be able to tell it was there. The storage ring had helped with that, by continually toggling things in and out of storage, I was able to at least feel the level of qi in my body.

    But I couldn¡¯t move it. All the manuals talked about cultivation in terms of cycling your qi, moving it around in a complex pattern. I could feel mine, or Elder Hu¡¯s, rather, suffusing every inch of my body, and what I thought was my core, a raging storm that dwelled just to the side of my heart. But beyond the time I¡¯d accidentally called a hurricane, and the way my storage ring pulled at it, I couldn¡¯t make it move of my own free will. My body consumed it, my limbs drinking a trickle to fuel their superhuman strength. When I swung my sword, it followed, extending the edge. But I had no idea how to control it actively, beyond those passive effects.

    Something that disciple had been doing felt like he¡¯d been interacting with my qi? Had I been leaking more power than I intended to, and he was fending it off? Or was he inspecting me for some anomaly? I didn¡¯t know what he might have seen, looming over me for hours in the library. I could try to avoid him, but it wouldn¡¯t help. If a disciple could see something in hours, I had no doubt my fellow elders would see it in a moment.

    And now I was going to meet them for tea.

    As I slowly made my way through the woods outside the plaza, hoping to stumble across a bamboo grove in the general direction of the repository, I punched a tree. It didn¡¯t fall over, I wasn¡¯t that strong. But my fist ripped all the bark right off, leaving flyaway strands of wood exposed to the elements.

    I hated this. It¡¯d been a day and a half. Nothing had happened. But I couldn¡¯t let down the mask for a moment, around others. I had to be Elder Hu, play a character that I couldn¡¯t afford to ask about. Hope that imperious aloofness was close enough to his personality that nobody would notice the difference. Hope that rank and eccentricity would cover for any faux pas.

    I hit the tree again, harder. My fist drove into the wood like it was wet pulp, leaving tiny splinters wedged between my fingers. I opened my hand, and they fell away like sand. My knuckles were skinned, but only just barely.

    Hope for this and hope for that and hope that something I didn''t know and couldn''t ask wouldn''t suddenly doom me. I suddenly remembered that silly Twitter post from another life, of the mouse that had touched two opposing terminals on a high voltage line, and been reduced to a skeleton instantly, doomed by a natural law he had no hope of ever knowing in advance.

    I pushed the tree over. Gently, it didn''t take much. It had a hole the width of my arm clean through its center after all. Truly, it was a wonder we had any trees at all here, let alone so many, if they made the perfect punching bags for a frustrated elder. I snorted, as a darkly humorous thought popped into my head. Perhaps the other elders just used their disciples for that. Strike a disciple, spare the environment.

    For the hundredth time, I wondered if I could just run away. I had power. Even in an unfamiliar world, I should be safe. But would they let me go? Elder didn''t really seem like the sort of position one was allowed to retire from. With our military power, and all the sect had probably invested in us, I was almost certainly trapped in a gilded cage.

    So many unknowns, so little I could do about them. So I did what I could, and stalked off to find some bamboo.

    <hr>

    Su Li burned. The moon shone distantly, a thin crescent. Perfect conditions for her cultivation method. The qi around her was so thick that she could almost taste it, like she was breathing in congee salted with steel dust.

    A silver aura formed around Su Han''s sword. Impermanence. Loss. A sliver of untouchable eternity, brought down to earth. It was too elegant. The waxing crescent was a swordsman¡¯s technique, not a woodcutter¡¯s. So much of it was focused around cohesion, binding the light of the moon into a blade. She didn¡¯t need a range of a dozen paces. She didn¡¯t need the light to remain bound to its form on impact, that it might bypass a mortal¡¯s parry. All she needed was for it to cut. She poured more power into the technique, watching as it deteriorated into little more than a churning mass of lunar qi.

    She swung. The memory of light swung with her, the silver storm biting into the wood. Biting in all of two inches, the wasteful usage of power cutting almost as wide across as it did deep. It was enough though. She let her sword fall away and staggered forward. Five swings, to make it most of the way through the log. She was slowing. Unacceptable.

    She wormed her fingers into the gouge. The blood on them made it slippery. She wiped them on her robe, then tried again. The robes were black anyway, nobody would notice. She pulled, and the foot long segment of wood snapped in twain.

    Twice more, she ripped the log in half, leaving this segment quartered. One tree lay dismantled behind her. With this segment, her second was now half finished. Her meridians burned as she cycled furiously, the moon''s power hung thick around her, but she couldn''t cycle it fast enough, every breath drew in the same amount of qi, but with each great circle through her meridians less and less slowed to settle in her bone-dry dantian.

    She must keep going. She would keep going. Until the third tree was laid low and reduced to firewood. With heavy limbs, and even heavier eyelids, she lifted her father''s sword once more and called out to the world. Her meridians burned with argent glory. Light surged around her blade, brighter than ever before. And yet, the world seemed darker? Surely the night was already at its deepest.

    Su Li swung, and saw no more.

    <hr>

    It turns out, when you¡¯re an elder, they just let you take things. After I¡¯d harvested a frankly absurd amount of bamboo, enough that I¡¯d be just fine even if Su Li failed to make headway on those fir trees, I¡¯d headed back to the library. I¡¯d walked right through the empty entryway, and then saw most of the tables were occupied this time, by disciples in plain black linen robes, ranging in age from fifteen or so to well into their forties. On a whim, I¡¯d headed up the stairs I now knew to be tucked away in a shadowed corner, and found myself on the second floor.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    It was a book lover¡¯s paradise. So, my paradise. Where the first floor was a wide open space, empty save for small tables spaced haphazardly, but never too close together, the second floor was a claustrophobic nightmare. There were none of the evenly spaced uniformly stocked shelves you¡¯d expect to see in a library, but instead storage devices of every form, from shelves, to scroll-cubbies, to simple wood chests, were simply fit wherever there was room. I saw one great nautical storage chest simply sitting on top of a normal shelf, where its lid would hit the ceiling if fully opened.

    Initially, I¡¯d intended to go find the help desk I¡¯d seen through the opening in the ceiling of the ground floor, but I¡¯d never been able to restrain myself in a library. It was a problem. When I¡¯d been forced to volunteer at one as a middle schooler, I only managed about two days of actual work before I simply began sneaking off to read the books I was supposed to be shelving at every opportunity.

    It started small, excusable even. I saw a scroll with a moon on it. An honest to god pair of crescent moons, carved out of quartz or white jade, decorated the endcaps of the scroll, one end waning, the other waxing. I had to check, even if it wasn¡¯t the manual I was looking for, surely it would be good background reading.

    With a furtive glance to either side to confirm I was alone, I pulled it out and took a look.

    It was exactly what I was looking for. I wondered if this was how Su Li had chosen it? Perhaps she, or a disciple looking on her behalf, had simply seen the gaudy end caps marking it as moon related right by the entrance to the second floor, and grabbed it on a whim. Or perhaps the library staff just kept it here, to give to any nobody who asked for a moon related method?

    That left me suddenly quite worried it wasn¡¯t any good. In every story I¡¯d ever read, the good stuff was always in dusty stacks way in the back, never clearly labeled by the entrance. That rule even made some sense, in a world where a scroll in the right hands might found an empire. Still, it was what my disciple was studying, so I had to know it. I snuck off for a less frequently traversed corner, and eventually found one covered in so much dust it clearly hadn¡¯t been visited in months or years. Reading a scroll while standing wasn¡¯t the most ergonomic of positions, so I spread it atop a conveniently placed dresser stuffed with so many wooden slips some were sticking out of the drawers.

    Pausing every few seconds to peek over my shoulder like a raccoon rooting around in a dumpster, I began to read.

    It held a cultivation method, and a pair of techniques. The Waxing Crescent for offense, and the New Moon¡¯s Veil for defense. The table of contents at least, were clear. After that, it became harder to glean much from the text. The cultivation method itself, at least in qi condensation, seemed simpler than some others, basically amounting to a big circle in the thorax. And I could only figure that much out, because this manual had a literal diagram, three cutaway drawings of a male torso, with the correct meridians to follow labeled from one to eight. While that was an improvement, the fact that they also referenced said meridians by their assigned number, rather than the number they were ordered on the diagram in the following section, seemed a little silly to me. For example, the first portion of the cycle flowed through meridian 32, which was in the upper right chest, following the curve of the top lobe of the right lung. After that, the qi was supposed to enter meridian 18, which followed the exterior edge of the right side of the torso.

    I wasn¡¯t going to figure this out over the course of minutes, so I stole the scroll.

    I thought about asking, I really did. It was the moral thing to do, certainly, even if that wasn¡¯t exactly my highest priority. If the scrolls turned out to be protected by some sort of magical lo-jack, it was also the safe thing to do. But there was no way to play that conversation with the library staff that didn¡¯t risk revealing a dangerous level of ignorance. If I assumed I could borrow scrolls, but they were well known to be only for reading internally, I revealed myself. If I asked permission when it was well known that elders could take what they wished, I did the same. Better to risk the small chance of being known a thief, than take a 50-50 of being revealed ignorant of what Elder Hu should know. At least theft had a predictable motivation I could hide my status as a transmigrator behind.

    So, after another set of furtive glances, I stuffed it into my storage ring.

    No klaxons sounded. No army of black-clad librarians armed with jians descended upon me.

    I spent a further hour just wandering the stacks, looking for anything I could find related to the moon. I wasn¡¯t very successful, either the library employed no organizational principle at all, or I just didn¡¯t understand what principle it did obey, because I found precious little. What little I did, I just browsed through, then returned. A lot of what I did find was meditations on the moon¡¯s relation to the concept of yin, some of which gave me ideas. Others were biographies of famous cultivators with lunar techniques, and poems about the beauty of the moon, which were less helpful. I wasn¡¯t sure how much time passed. It was so easy, to get lost among the stacks. The way the constitution of a cultivator meant I hardly hungered and scarcely grew tired left time meaning little. The most dangerous part was the little aches that one got, when seated for a few hours, were now absent. It made it all too easy to simply turn the next page, and the one after that, when you didn¡¯t even need to get up and stretch.

    A few of the staff passed me, I did my best to look busy and none of them saw fit to engage me in conversation. One beautiful black haired woman in silk robes trimmed with navy blue gave me a glare fit to kill a man, but did not speak with me. I ignored her and really hoped that it wouldn''t come back to bite me later. Was she a jilted ex? A former student? A fellow elder? I really had no idea, and in this world I couldn¡¯t even rely on age to make a guess. All I knew at this point was that the shine of silk robes meant someone important. I could barely even feel the cultivation of others, if I had some sort of spiritual sense, I didn¡¯t know how to use it.

    After that encounter, I stopped tempting fate and left. Truly, being a cultivator was amazing. Even as my stomach turned itself upside down with worry, not even a drop of moisture beaded from my armpits. As I passed through the ground floor, one frazzled looking outer disciple looked up from the dusty scroll on his table and turned to stare at me. I studiously ignored him. Every step I took, the impact of my thin leather-soled slippers on the worn stone felt like a gong in my head. As I approached the entry concourse, I prayed to any god who might be listening, then stopped, because in this mad world such a thing might actually be noticed. As I stepped out into the dim light of the early dawn, absolutely nothing happened. I almost smiled. It was a weight off my shoulders, another danger dodged, albeit one I¡¯d brought on myself. But was it even worth celebrating? I felt like I was spinning my wheels in mud, scraping through every interaction by the skin of my teeth. I knew I had to play the part of Elder Hu Xin, but I still didn¡¯t know who he was, not really.

    I didn¡¯t teach, but was that because I was unable, or unwilling?

    One of my fellow elders disliked me, but was that because I was rude and domineering, or because I was lower status and insufficiently deferential?

    Su Li treated my agreement to teach her like a miracle, was that because she thought my tutelage would be valuable, or because she literally had no other options?

    Elder Hu didn¡¯t keep a diary, he had almost no personal effects. I couldn¡¯t ask anyone I¡¯d met. Perhaps there was no way to safely figure out who I¡¯d been, except by watching the reactions of the people I spoke to. Perhaps I would simply have to decide who I would be, and survive the consequences.

 Chapter 7 - Elders

    When I came to check on Su Li, I found her napping after a long night''s work. I¡¯d thought she would pace herself, and work through the day, but I suppose moon-aligned cultivators were a different breed. She''d fully dismantled one tree, and made good progress on the second. The logs were scattered haphazardly throughout the clearing.

    The scene reminded me a little of one of those video games where trees would explode into a great burst of logs when a player took an axe to them. Valheim, perhaps? Or was it that Conan one that handled logging like that? I''d always tried to get into those crafting-survival games, but never really took to them. Su Li lay in the middle of a veritable explosion of firewood

    It made for a cute picture. She clutched at her worn sword, clutching at it the way I used to sleep with my little T-Rex beanie baby, until the years left him too threadbare for even that. I wondered how Toothy was doing.

    It hurt, thinking about him. Beyond all the bigger, more important things I¡¯d lost, that hadn¡¯t truly sunk in yet. Thinking about him, sitting on a shelf at my parent¡¯s new house, a tiny memorial to a child dead or missing. God, I didn¡¯t even know what had happened to me. Just that I was here now. What would they think? Unbidden, tears beaded at the corner of my eyes. I couldn¡¯t do this, not now.

    I mastered myself, and dried my eyes. I could think about what I¡¯d lost once I was sure I wouldn¡¯t soon lose this life as well.

    I gathered the logs up as my disciple slept, stacking them into a loose pile. Well, except for a couple she was sleeping atop. It didn''t look the most comfortable, but I couldn''t bring myself to disturb her. After a moment''s thought, I decided to finish the job.

    A dozen effortless swings removed cross-sections of the remaining log like a hot wire through foam, without even a whisper of sound. A single long stroke split all the segments into half circles, which fell to the ground with muffled thumps.

    I paused, tense, but Su Li slept right through it. A tiny thread of drool extended from the corner of her mouth. A few flyaway strands of black hair drifted through it, getting caught like threads in amber. She was a cute girl, when she didn¡¯t have that painfully earnest expression on her face. But still, clearly a girl all the same. How old was she, I wondered. Seventeen? Eighteen? Older, by virtue of a cultivator¡¯s unnatural youthfulness? She¡¯d talked like she was getting old for an outer disciple, but in our world, she wouldn¡¯t even have finished high school yet. To be here almost three years, she couldn¡¯t have been more than fourteen or fifteen when she joined the sect. Had her father died even before then, setting her on this lonely road? Or had she been promised to the sect even before that, and he¡¯d died while she cultivated? I shivered. That was not a life I envied.

    I added the newly cut logs to my stack, leaving me with perhaps a quarter of a cord of wood. That would keep me well stocked for a very long time. Slowly, I went through the process of charging my storage ring to ingest the wood. I¡¯d been trying to slow down the process as much as possible, to use it as a guide to actually feeling my qi. In my mind, I focused on the stack of wood, to the exclusion of everything around it. I visualized the stack, held the image as clear as I could, then let the surroundings fade to black. It wasn¡¯t the best job. I¡¯d always had trouble with mental images, naturally I tended to think more in words, but it was what the guide said to do, and apparently I¡¯d been doing a good enough job for the ring to date. As I held the image, I willed the ring to act, and slowly let go of my qi. It was a curious sensation, to use the storage treasure, I didn¡¯t need to push power to it manually, only to sort of relax my control over the power within me. Slowly, the qi flowed from all across my body, into my hand, and out into the ring. There was no sensation of heat or cold to it, only a phantom sort of motion. In its wake, where the concentration of qi had decreased substantially, there was a sort of tingling sensation and a feeling of weakness, which rapidly faded as my core spun out more qi into the body to replace it. Eventually, the ring had eaten enough.

    The resulting pop was far louder than I expected, nowhere near a gunshot, but easily a small firework. Far louder than when I¡¯d ringed the stonework stove I¡¯d looted. I guessed the noise scaled with the volume then, and the qi consumption with mass. It made a rudimentary sort of sense.

    Su Li awoke with a start, leaping to a crouch and brandishing her bared sword wildly. Slowly, she oriented herself, and as I watched her face turned red. A moment later, she cast down her sword and began futilely trying to brush the dust off her robes and tame the wild mess her hair had become.

    Her fingers, I noted with a sinking stomach, were crusted with dried blood.

    ¡°Disciple.¡± I greeted her.

    ¡°Elder Hu. I did not expect you to return so early. Surely it has not yet been a full day?¡±

    "It has not, I finished my own tasks earlier than I expected and thought to check up on your progress. You know, you could have gone home to sleep." I said, a wry smile popping up unbidden.

    "I did not want to disappoint you master."

    It almost physically hurt, how earnest she was. I looked at her hands, but I didn¡¯t know what to say. What could I possibly tell her that would not make light of her dedication?

    "As long as you do your best, you will never disappoint me."

    Su Li turned to stare at the ground, not saying anything more. I waited a moment, but the silence drug on.

    ¡°I have breakfast.¡± I said, withdrawing a pair of oat cakes from my ring.

    I¡¯d bought a lot of food at the markets, but they¡¯d had precious little in the form of ready to eat food that would keep. Lots of roasted meat and sweetbread on skewers, but I still wasn¡¯t sure how exactly storage treasures and time interacted.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Oat cakes had seemed the safest option. These were more of a dense cracker, than any sort of cake, but they were filling enough, and dry enough I wasn¡¯t afraid of them going bad.

    I¡¯d smeared some sort of dark jelly, gooseberry perhaps, on them before putting them away, trying to puzzle out if objects in the ring physically interacted with each other. Nothing else had come out covered in jelly yet, which was a positive sign.

    Careful of my sleeves, I offered one to Su Li. Silently, she accepted it. We ate quietly. I got crumbs on my robe. I wasn''t used to wearing long sleeves all the time, or having so many inner folds for things to get caught in.

    I''d always been a danger to dress shirts, and I had no idea how the xianxia-laundry service worked yet. Thank God for big storage ring wardrobes filled with black robes.

    "I would have finished by the deadline." Su Li said between bites.

    "It wasn''t a race."

    She didn''t reply, mouth filled with dry oatcake and sticky jam. I should have brought some water. That was a silly oversight. We gummed down our oatcakes in awkward silence.

    "Earlier, you mentioned that you approached the other elders about tutelage. I have recently been invited to join them for tea, and it has been a while since I spoke with many of them. I am curious what your impressions of them were."

    Su Li looked as I spoke, then turned back down to stare at the ground as she realized I was asking her a question. Slowly, she finished her mouthful of dry, sticky, oatcake, before finally answering.

    ¡°I have wanted to master the sword since long before I entered this sect. But only two elders here are renowned for their mastery of it, you, and Elder Xin. I sought you out at first, but I did not lay eyes on you for my first year within the sect. I asked after you frequently, so often I annoyed my peers, until an inner disciple finally told me you were out of the sect on a mission, and would return when you returned.

    She swallowed, mouth dry.

    "But Elder Xin, I found. He has not taught classes these last few years, but at the close of every week, he plays his guqin by the gray lake. For three weeks, I listened, before I approached him. He asked me to play him a song if I wanted to learn the sword. He offered me his guzheng, but I was afraid to touch it. I know nothing about music. I had never touched an instrument before. He told me to come back, when I could play something that moved him. He was kind to me, kinder than any of the others, but he was firm too. He would not teach me the sword if I could not play, and he would not teach me music.

    "Of the elders of craft, I only approached Elder Li. He gave me a chance, but I was too stupid to seize it. I spent three months under one of his inner disciples, working with puppets, but my hands were clumsy, and my eyes were not suited to the delicate work. Li Ru declared me too imprecise, and cast me out for wasting his time.

    ¡°Elder Liang¡­ Elder Liang was not interested in teaching me.¡±

    ¡°That simple? She just wasn¡¯t interested?¡± I asked, curious.

    Su Li looked down again. I was starting to see a pattern there, but this time she remained silent. I gave her a moment, and then another, but as the silence began to drag on. Just as I was about to open my own mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, she spoke in a rush.

    ¡°No master, forgive this small disciple for her deception. Elder Liang¡­ She said that lips like mine were more suited to warming her bed than cultivating. She told me that I had no talent for cultivation, and no fate with the sword, but if I became one of her concubines instead, she would help me establish my foundation.¡±

    Holy fuck. I knew sects could get bad, but that was so much more brazen than I expected. I had no idea what to say.

    It was rapidly becoming clear to me that I may have drastically underestimated how seriously Su Li was taking our new relationship. I''d assumed that she''d be more diligent than an American high schooler, but that bar was so low it might as well be buried in the soil. Between working herself to the point of injury, and revealing hurtful secrets at a single request for clarification, I would really need to watch what I said to her.

    ¡°I panicked. I ran away without saying a word. Her disciples all laughed at me as I left. Please, don¡¯t make me come as your attendant. I know it''s a disciple''s duty, but I¡­ I can¡¯t face her again. Not until I can look her in the eyes and show her she was wrong.¡±

    Had it been Elder Liang''s disciples gathered around her yesterday? What had they been saying, I wondered. I doubted it was anything good.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I didn¡¯t intend to bring you. I¡¯ve been busy today, gathering materials for your lessons. Take the day off and rest up, you look like you¡¯ve barely slept.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s head perked up at that, a brilliant smile on her face. I could see a tear rolling down her cheek, but I didn¡¯t acknowledge it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve no doubt the other elders will want to talk all day. Meet me back here three hours before sunset, and we¡¯ll begin your first lesson.¡±

    "Yes master!"

    I knew Su Li had waited outside my door more than once, she¡¯d said as much when I first nearly stepped on her walking out of my little house. She¡¯d said I¡¯d ignored her every other time. Just how many times had Elder Hu stepped over this poor girl?

    ¡°Refresh my memory. How many times did you wait outside my door, after I returned to the sect?

    ¡°Fourteen times, Elder Hu.¡± I wasn''t sure if that was better or worse than I expected. After a moment¡¯s pause, she continued. ¡°Elder Hu, please forgive my impertinence in questioning you. But, I wish to know, why did you finally say yes?¡±

    I couldn''t answer that honestly. It was not in character for the stern, busy, elder I''d apparently been to show such sentiment.

    ¡°In a distant land, there¡¯s an idiom I¡¯ve long found darkly amusing. If you always do what you¡¯ve always done, you¡¯ll always get what you¡¯ve always gotten.¡± It was passing strange, how easily the translated idiom came to my tongue. The flow of the sounds was wrong, do and done, and get and gotten, no longer held the symmetry they did in English. The meaning, and the fourfold repetition of ¡®you¡¯ remained, and helped give the phrase a certain gravitas, even in this strange tongue. ¡°Recently, I decided that I am perhaps not as satisfied with what I¡¯ve always gotten as I thought I was.¡±

    "What you''ve always gotten?" Su Li echoed.

    I didn''t answer. I''d already strayed far too close to far too many fraught topics. I simply rose to my feet and began to walk away.

    "Here, twilight, tomorrow." I reminded her, as I left to take a well earned nap. I would worry about tea later, It''d been several days since I last slept after all.

 Chapter 8 - Teatime

    I¡¯d been worried that it would be difficult to figure out which villa belonged to Elder Liang. I shouldn¡¯t have been. It was the very first one I went to inspect, the largest and most ornate compound bordering the plaza. Two of my little house could have fit within its front courtyard, and half a dozen more within the cavernous main house. The sloping roofs of the three story edifice were lacquered a brilliant crimson.

    A golden plaque sat to the left of the gate, emblazoned with the character for Liang.

    Nobody accosted me at the courtyard gate, so I just walked in. I passed a rather tasteful carp pond, filled with a dozen fat fish who radiated what I suspected was qi of their own. The stone paving stones terminated at a stately pair of double doors, wrought from black hardwood. Each side had a knocker wrought in the shape of a lion''s head grasping a ring, coated in gold.

    Was I supposed to knock? Before I could, the door slowly creaked open. The same disciple who''d helped me in the library, and delivered the invitation, stood within.

    "Liang Tao greets Elder Hu. Allow me to show you to the solar, where Elder Liang awaits you."

    I followed him quietly. It was nice, to finally have a name to put to the face, and without asking to boot. I wondered if he was one of Elder Liang''s children, or if it was simply custom for some disciples to take their master''s name. Either seemed plausible.

    We passed through a dizzying array of hallways, near identical stretches of dark wood only distinguished by the occasional ornamented door, or a potted plant or piece of artwork set into an alcove. Despite the formality and opulence of the mansion, there were signs of life. I could hear whispers from behind some of the doors, and even the giggle of what sounded like a child. One older woman in the rough linen robes of an outer disciple scurried down the hallway, murmuring a quiet ''Elder'' as she passed.

    We ascended a narrow flight of stairs, took a pair of lefts, and then Liang Tao stopped before a door. He didn''t knock, just waited for a moment. I wracked my mind, trying to hear whatever qi based sign he was no doubt waiting for, but all I felt was a vague sense of¡­ connection, between him and the contents of the room.

    Without fanfare, he opened the door and ushered me in.

    "Elder Hu, I''m so glad you could join us. We of the senior generation don''t get together often enough."

    The speaker, a woman sitting before me, I assumed was Elder Liang. I''d seen the phrase jade beauty applied to female cultivators before, but that didn''t really fit Elder Liang. Her skin was smooth and pale, but translucent in a way that seemed almost more milky than jade like. Her features weren''t classically beautiful, but instead sharp and strong, dancing up to the line of outright androgyny, but never quite crossing it. Indeed, if not for the generous curve of her chest apparent under her robes, I wouldn''t have been completely certain she was a woman, and not a very pretty man.

    Like me, she wore black robes, but where the traditional secondary color of the sect seemed to be dark blue, her trim and embroidery was all gold. And there was a lot of it. An embroidered dragon rose along the front fold of her robes before curling around her collar, it¡¯s head resting just above her heart. A sort of abstract root like design graced the lower half of her robe, and golden phoenixes completed the effect, filling almost every open space.

    And then there was her smile. It would have been far more appropriate on a brothel patron than at a tea party. Her grin left me feeling dirtier than three days wandering about the sect without a real shower had.

    "Brother Hu! It''s good to see you again!" The man seated to her left said with a far more wholesome grin. From the presence of some sort of stringed instrument across his lap, I assumed he was the Elder Xin that Su Li had mentioned, the musician.

    Elder Xin was the only member of the sect I''d seen so far whose robes were not primarily some shade of black or blue. His were white, with little in the way of embroidery. But the longer I looked, the more I saw the subtlety of the dye job, what began as a brilliant dentist-white in his inner robes, slowly saw shades of gray and turquoise worked in as it moved towards the outer layers. It was most apparent in his sleeves, where the subtle dye work intensified to something almost like murky water.

    As I took the seat to his left, across from Elder Liang, I realized that he towered over the rest of us, 6¡¯6 if he was an inch. His long black hair was bound up in a simple tail, which rested over one of his shoulders. He sat cross legged on the floor, his back held so erect that mine ached just looking at it.

    On the other hand, Elder Liang was by far the shortest of us, only a few inches taller than Su Li, but her head rested near the same height as Elder Xin¡¯s, because she¡¯d eschewed the floor for a short stool and a veritable mountain of red and gold cushions. I had to look up ever so slightly, to meet either of their gazes.

    "It''s just Elder Li we''re still waiting on now. I imagine the new disciples are keeping him quite busy. A pleasant surprise, seeing you arrive on time Elder Hu." Elder Liang said.

    I held my tongue, unsure if that was a subtle insult, or just friendly banter. Elder Xin at least, seemed friendly to me. I wasn''t sure about Elder Liang.

    "Little Tao, get the man some tea." She continued. "Now, tell me all about this new disciple of yours."

    "Really Ai? Here I thought you called us here to build bridges among the senior generation. Did you really set this up just to interrogate brother Hu about the treasure you left by the wayside?"

    "It''s a woman''s prerogative to want two things at once. Please, tell me honestly you''re not curious."

    Elder Xin turned to me with a pensive expression. "I must admit, I am a little curious which disciple caught your eye. Your standards have ever been more strict than even my own."

    As Liang Tao stepped across the table to fill my mug, I pondered what exactly to say. In the end, I settled for honesty, with just the right amount held back. The strategy had served me well so far.

    "I have elected to teach an outer disciple by the name of Su Li. I understand she approached both of you about tutelage before me."

    "Really? I liked that girl, she had spunk, but sadly neither the ear nor eye for my arts." Elder Xin said.

    "Her? Truly?" Elder Liang said with a sniff. "Well, you''ve never shied away from hard work. That''s a stone that will need a great deal of polish before it shines."

    I took a sip of tea, instead of defending my disciple. It was excellent, a basic green mix, with some sweet fruity notes. Blueberry and lemon perhaps? I usually took mine with a great deal of sugar, but this was already so fruity it barely needed sweetener. I still would have taken some if it was offered though. Sugar was one of my three great vices, along with alcohol and sleep.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    "I assume she''s stuck with the sword then?" Elder Xin asked. "I remember that. Atrocious cultivation, a downright embarrassing technique, passable swordsmanship for a mortal though."

    "Passable for a mortal perhaps. I plan to start her from the very basics of martial arts, to build her foundation properly, before focusing overmuch on her bladework. In truth, I have been less impressed by her talent, than I have by her passion and dedication."

    "Oh? Is that what''s put you in such a good mood? Her ''passion and dedication''?" Elder Liang asked with a lecherous wink.

    Anger shot through me, that she would dare to joke about that, after what she''d offered the girl. I mastered my tongue and face easily, but my riotous qi was less easily restrained. Elder Liang and Liang Tao both flinched, as wisps of power slipped out between my metaphysical fingers. I really needed to get a handle on that.

    "To be perfectly honest, her passion for her path is more of a source of concern than joy for me. Already, she has shown a disregard for exhaustion or pain that borders upon recklessness. I would be displeased to see her enthusiasm transform into self destruction." I said, in as mild a tone as I could muster.

    "I suppose for your arts, such a willingness to risk injury is the least of perquisites." Elder Xin mused mildly, seemingly unconcerned by my loss of control.

    I watched as emotions flowed across Elder Liang¡¯s face. Rage first, quickly smothered, then a milder irritation. And yet, before my eyes, it morphed into another smile, this one far more wholesome than the last, and to my eyes, seemingly sincere. I didn¡¯t understand it, at all.

    Liang Tao, though, just looked afraid.

    ¡°Look at you, finally starting to shed your silly asceticism. We¡¯ll make a human of you yet.¡± Elder Liang said with a great belly laugh.

    ¡°I find myself curious, Elder Hu, what it was that you saw in her that finally changed your mind about taking a disciple. Certainly, thousands have thrown themselves at your feet in hopes of tutelage over the decades.¡± Elder Xin said. Even as he spoke, his hands gently danced over the strings of the instrument in his lap. A Guzheng? Erhu? I knew the names, but I could never remember which was which. No sound came forth, his long fingers caressing the strings, but never quite plucking them. Was it a nervous habit? It was a small thing, but it made me think the question was more significant than mere curiosity.

    ¡°Skill can be taught, talent can be earned, but even the best teachers struggle to impart motivation like that which burns in Su Li. But, she is hardly exceptional, by the standards of the sect.¡± I began, weaving a plausible lie from the gossamer-thin set of facts I had. ¡°I think that my choice of student is as much an accident of timing and fate, than a product of her virtues. Of late, I have felt stagnant, too set in my ways. These coming days struck me as a fine season to walk new roads, seek new facets of the great Dao.¡±

    Elder Xin nodded sagely, as if I¡¯d said something profound, instead of an overwrought admission that I was having a cultivator midlife crisis.

    ¡°Interesting. It is well to know that I am not the only one who sees this as a time of great change.¡± He said, still stroking his instrument like a cat.

    There was a knock at the door, and a moment of silence, as the person on the other side waited. It might have been protocol to wait a moment before opening the door, but I was beginning to suspect Elder Liang had some way of silently communicating with her household. I listened as intently as I could with my qi sense, but I couldn¡¯t even catch the vague sense of connection I¡¯d noticed before, when Liang Tao had ushered me in.

    The door opened, and a man flanked by two young women walked in.

    ¡°Elder Li, how kind of you to join us at last.¡± Elder Liang greeted him. ¡°Little Tao, another round for the table.¡±

    Elder Li took the seat to my left, and his two attendants took up a position standing against the wall behind him.

    ¡°Of course, Elder Liang. I could hardly decline an opportunity to spend time in such august company.¡±

    As Liang Tao circled us with his teapot, I inspected the man I¡¯d offended at his lecture in the woods. Elder Li looked old. Not terminally so, perhaps late fifties, but age had left tangible marks on him my fellow elders had clearly escaped. His black hair was tied up into a tight bun, and his beard was trimmed short, though both were shot with thin streaks of gray. He alone wore the same colors as our disciples, black robes with navy trim, but his were of silk and far more ornate, with flying birds subtly embroidered across his sleeves and waist in shimmering midnight blue thread. Like me, he was neither a beanpole nor resting atop a mountain of cushions, leaving the other two Elders looking down slightly at us.

    ¡°Elder Xin.¡± Elder Li greeted, inclining his head in a gentle nod as he turned to face him. After holding the pose for a moment, he looked at me. "Ah¡­ It''s you."

    "This small one is Elder Hu Xin." I replied, inclining my head towards him as he had Elder Xin.

    My guess was rewarded, as the other two elders let out a chuckle at my humble greeting, and Elder Li flushed red. I was beginning to get a sense of the pecking order amongst us, tentatively putting Elder Xin and myself at the top, and Elder Li at the bottom.

    ¡°I heard about that incident. Come now Elder Li, there¡¯s no need to take such a joke so seriously.¡± Elder Liang said.

    ¡°It was a jest in poor taste, and before my students. To undermine my authority before them is to undermine the mission of the sect.¡±

    "My apologies, Elder Li. My mind was elsewhere that day, and I was not expecting to be engaged in conversation. I will not embarrass you in such a way again.¡±

    Elder Li looked like he¡¯d swallowed a lemon at my backhanded apology. I wanted to mend bridges, I really did, but stretching too far before an Elder almost certainly my junior seemed dangerous in its own way.

    ¡°I suppose there''s only so much social grace one can expect from a man so dedicated to battle.¡±

    ¡°Come now Elder Li, surely you aren''t saying you view Elder Hu''s more martial contributions to the sect as less than your own? Unless, perhaps you are volunteering to take on the next target Sectmaster Meng finds?¡± Elder Xin said, a cruel smile on his face. ¡°Has your cultivation advanced so far you think that you can kill a false immortal?¡±

    Elder Li paled, and shook his head.

    ¡°I did not mean to diminish your contributions honored Elder Xin.¡±

    ¡°Brother Hu¡¯s words are one matter, his contributions to the sect another entirely. To insult the latter, is to offer insult to all of us. Blood shed in defense of the Night should never be denigrated.¡± Elder Xin said, his expression returning to placidity, his fury apparently spent. Perhaps I could rely on him, as a shield against the others.

    ¡°Elder Li has a point though Elder Xin, our beloved sect has long been denied the opportunity to benefit from Elder Hu¡¯s wisdom.¡± Elder Liang said, with a wide smile on her face. ¡°As the eldest and most advanced of us, surely he has much to teach his juniors. Perhaps Elder Hu should hold a lecture for the whole sect, and put to bed any foul rumors about his teaching skills.¡± I suppressed a shiver. That was not good. Having confirmation of my standing was nice, but a lecture could be a disaster.

    I raced to think of a polite way to decline. I could fake sagacity before a single teenager, but an entire crowd, with several multi-centenarians present? I didn¡¯t like my chances, if the subject was cultivation or swordsmanship. I glanced at Elder Xin, hoping my potential ally would give me an out.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s an excellent idea! You were saying earlier, Brother Hu, that this seemed like a good season to explore new facets of the Dao. If you are to teach one properly, why not offer them all a taste?¡± The traitor said. ¡°Perhaps I should even do the same. It¡¯s been a while since I showed the sprouts what real art looks like.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you should go first then? I¡¯m sure the disciples would appreciate your insights.¡± I said, throwing out a hail mary.

    ¡°No, no, I couldn¡¯t possibly usurp your well earned position.¡± He demurred. ¡°I¡¯m keen to see how your understanding of the sword has advanced these last decades.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. I have a few other ideas that I might speak on.¡±

    ¡°Oh, do share with the table.¡± Elder Liang said.

    ¡°I think not. You can hear them at the same time as everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Always so stuffy.¡± She said with a giggle. ¡°More tea?¡±

    After Liang Tao refilled my cup for the third time, I took a long sip. It truly was excellent stuff.

    ¡°So, Elder Hu.¡± Elder Liang said with a wicked grin. ¡°Care to explain why exactly you decided to wake the entire first plaza with a hurricane two days ago?¡±

 Chapter 9 - The First Lesson

    Su Li''s stomach felt like it was filled with bees. She''d eaten a bee once, when she was two, according to her parents. Allegedly, it had stung her lip, and her face had swelled up so much her father had carried her down the mountain to see Doctor Cho. She shivered. Her father was gone. She wondered if Doctor Cho was too now, swept away by the armies of the Shan like the rest of the world she''d grown up in. She¡¯d sought news, when she first arrived, but Yanping was barely a hamlet, earning its place on maps off the reputations of a handful of its inhabitants, than any true importance. To the wider world, it was just one more line in a long list of names changing hands from Qin to Shan. She could not leave to see what remained of her home in person, at least not until she mastered the Liar¡¯s Breath. She would not cast away three years of progress towards her vengeance over sentiment, not when her time with the sect was finally beginning to bear fruit.

    She''d arrived at the clearing her master favored a full two hours before the appointed time. Her time was of little consequence, forcing Elder Hu to wait on her even for a few moments, unthinkable. She still felt like she did not understand the man at all. At first, he hadn¡¯t even been cold to her. To be rude required one to acknowledge another existed in the first place, and was not merely an obstruction to be navigated around. She¡¯d taken his attitude as her due, and persisted longer than any other in her class of initiates had, but she knew others had spent years petitioning Elder Hu in the past. It¡¯d been so sudden, when he acknowledged her as a person, and he¡¯d been so kind, compared to the other Elders. No impossible tests or depraved demands, he¡¯d simply shown her wonders of swordsmanship she¡¯d only ever heard of in legends, power even her honored father could not have dreamed of commanding. And then he would explain it in simple language, as if he were demonstrating basic sewing, rather than working miracles. Even if she couldn¡¯t comprehend it. Still, days later, she turned over his words in her mind. What did it mean, to square a circle?

    It scared her terribly, that she didn¡¯t know why he¡¯d suddenly changed his mind. What then could she hope to do, to prevent him from changing it again?

    She stared at the sky, where the dim outline of a crescent moon could barely be seen through the rust-orange glare of the setting sun, a quirk of the outer regions of the sect. It was too early yet for her to cultivate properly, and she¡¯d long since memorized her manual, leaving her alone with only her thoughts to distract her. When she''d first joined the Pathless Night three years ago, she''d been mildly surprised to discover that the sun showed its face at all within Sectmaster Meng''s domain at all. It was not beyond him to blot it out. Every initiate entered the sect through the fullness of his domain, the truth of their spirits laid bare before the hungry stars that served as his eyes.

    She was no longer the naive girl of sixteen that had crossed a kingdom to join a demonic sect though. She¡¯d learned more of the truth of the world in three years locked within the sect than she had in a decade outside of it. She¡¯d spent years in the sect¡¯s fields, learning how they bred and cultivated crops that grew in the light of the sun, even as they absorbed the many varieties of yin qi that pervaded the air here during the waking hours. Elder Lin¡¯s lectures had taught her that mortals and plants alike relied upon the dance of the celestial bodies to regulate the rhythms that governed their sleep and growth. And she¡¯d explored the far corners of the outer reaches of the sect, found the strange open-air tunnels that led deeper into the Night. She knew now that it simply wasn¡¯t efficient, to bathe outer disciples in the full measure of the Night, even if it limited many of the sect¡¯s manuals to only twelve hours a day of proper cultivation. The logistics required to keep them fed and healthy were prohibitive, compared to the potential increase in their cultivation.

    She heard him, before he arrived. Elder Hu rarely made an effort to move as silently as she knew he was capable of.

    She met him on her knees, her father¡¯s sword across her lap.

    ¡°Please, rise.¡± He greeted her. ¡°It is good to see you punctual, I have little patience for those who do not respect the time of others. Since you¡¯re here a little early, we can begin now.¡±

    ¡°This one thanks Elder Hu.¡± She responded, rising. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. A proper lesson, from a true cultivator.

    ¡°Have you been here for a while?¡± He suddenly asked.

    ¡°This one arrived before the sun began its descent, to be certain they did not waste Master¡¯s time.¡±

    ¡°Your diligence does you credit, but is unnecessary. If I set a time for a lesson, you are equally on time whether you arrive a minute before or an hour. Twilight begins when the sun fully dips beneath the horizon.¡±

    ¡°Yes Master.¡± Su Li replied, unsure what to make of that.

    ¡°Set your blade aside. We shall not require it tonight.¡±

    Gently, she propped her father¡¯s sword against one of the stumps she¡¯d made yesterday. Was he only going to demonstrate techniques for her, then set her to master them alone? She¡¯d hoped for something better. She could not learn from a single example, like the truly talented young masters and mistresses of the sect. As she turned to face her master, he started speaking.

    ¡°The sword is often described as the king of short weapons, or even the king of all weapons.¡± He began. ¡°It can be wielded alone, or paired with a variety of off-hands. It has spawned ten thousand martial arts. It can act as a channel for the power of almost any element. It affords its wielder a variety of different fighting styles, and is effective both on an open field and in the press of battle. For these reasons, among others, it is often the first weapon an aspiring martial artist learns.¡±

    He pulled his own sword, still sheathed, from his belt, and held it before him. Then he walked past her, and set it on the opposite side of the same stump.

    ¡°But for all but the mightiest of swordsmen, their skills are all but useless if there is no sword in their hands. The sword might be the most well known of weapons, but it is not the oldest of them. Before man worked iron, before the first stone spearhead was lashed to a long pole, before man even picked up a sharp rock, the first weapon was the body.¡±

    This was not going the direction Su Li had expected it to. Elder Hu took a stance, half turning and sweeping his left foot out behind him, as his fists rose up before him.

    ¡°The sword might be the king of all weapons, but unarmed fighting is the grandfather of all combat. The principles of a swordfight are but a logical extension of those of a fistfight. The weapon changes the specifics, but the fundamentals of range and angle, power and speed, threat and deception, endurance and tempo, are applicable to any fight."

    "I do not expect you to master unarmed combat. That is a journey of several lifetimes. But before I teach you the sword, you will attain at the very least enough skill that you do not fear to defend yourself unarmed. Because the fundamentals you learn there will guide you in all other martial endeavors. Because striking and grappling has its place in sword fights, even among cultivators. Because every opponent you face, will have the potential to utilize the unarmed techniques you will learn against you, no matter what weapon they bear into battle."

    "Now, let us take the measure of your skill. Attack me."

    Su Li did not know what to do. None of the potential scenarios she¡¯d imagined for this evening included being told to punch Elder Hu. She knew no refined unarmed martial arts, only the base sort of mortal brawling she¡¯d gotten up to as a child.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Master, I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    ¡°Begin by setting your feet shoulder-width apart, with your lead foot¡¯s toes facing your target. Next, set your trailing foot just behind your rear shoulder, with its toes facing an eighth of a rotation outwards from your target. Bring your hands up before you, and form fists. Do not place your thumb within the fist, that is a good way to break it.¡±

    ¡°Master, I misspoke. I know how to throw a punch.¡±

    ¡°Funny. Everyone says they know how to throw a punch. And yet, most of them still do it wrong. If you know how, do it. Hit me.¡±

    Su Li took up the stance her master had demonstrated. It felt awkward, having her feet so far apart, it was balanced when she was stationary, but every step felt clumsy. She took a quick step forward, then launched a straight punch right at him. He didn¡¯t move. Her fist arced forward, and then just before it reached him, she ran out of arm. She¡¯d expected him to move forward, or back, or something. She leaned forward the slightest bit, and her fist actually touched his robe. Should she attack again? Retreat? She looked up.

    Her master was looking down at her, staring at her fist harmlessly pressed against his outer robe. Slowly, one eyebrow rose like a headsman¡¯s axe.

    ¡°It works better when you actually hit the target. Again, from two paces away.¡±

    Su Li flushed red. Why the hell did she freeze! She was embarrassing herself in front of Elder Hu. She looked like an idiot! She¡¯d never had a proper lesson with anyone other than her father before, she couldn¡¯t afford to look like a silly child in front of the only Elder willing to teach her, no matter how strange he was.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    This time, Su Li didn¡¯t hesitate. The moment Elder Hu took up his stance, she dove forward, this time using the footwork her father had taught her for use with the sword. Two steps took her close, so close there was no chance of repeating her earlier mistake, and she threw a powerful punch at Elder Hu¡¯s chin, her right fist rising over her shoulder like a phoenix.

    Then her vision went black. Elder Hu¡¯s palm covered her face. Her nose pressed awkwardly against it. Her arm was still extended, but it again had stopped an inch shy of the target.

    ¡°You stepped too close, and threw an overhand punch from an outside angle without any setup, or guarding your own head. All I need to do to ensure it never lands is throw out any attack of my own from an inside angle. Even without my longer reach, it would arrive first, because my arm being on the inside of yours means it must travel a shorter distance. You can¡¯t finish a punch if your torso can¡¯t move forward.¡±

    He stepped back, releasing her face.

    ¡°Again.¡°

    Su Li took his words to heart, and threw a kick this time. It breezed past the Elder¡¯s head as he took the smallest of steps backward.

    ¡°A high kick with no setup has a similar problem. There¡¯s no reason your opponent needs to stand and take such an obvious blow. Again.¡±

    She threw another kick, then as he stepped back, hopped forward to chain into a second, lower kick. Elder Hu caught her ankle in his hand, then extended his arm upwards, lifting her foot well over her head. Su Li dropped on her ass.

    ¡°Again.¡±

    For an hour, Su Li threw every combination of strikes she could think of at Elder Hu. Kicks high and low, straight and curving. Sometimes, her blows landed against his guard, punches aimed at his head glancing ineffectually off a turned shoulder, kicks caught with open hands, or on one memorably painful occasion, bouncing off his iron-hard shin, leaving her limping.

    She didn¡¯t know what her master was looking for. He offered pointers, here and there, but after every exchange he just repeated ¡®Again¡¯.

    Finally, as full dark descended, he called out.

    ¡°Enough."

    Su Li struggled to keep her footing stable, as Elder Hu straightened his still pristine robes. Her legs burned from the exertion, her own robes so caked with dirt they would need another wash, from all the times he''d dumped her in the dirt with a flick of his arm after catching a kick. As surreptitiously as she could manage, she ran a hand through her hair, feeling for leaves.

    "That wasn''t bad. Your form was atrocious, but that''s what you''re here to learn. We''ll start you with some simple form drills tomorrow, until you can throw a proper punch without dropping your guard."

    "Yes. Master." Su Li panted, pride swelling within her as she realized Elder Hu had found in her whatever he¡¯d been looking for.

    <hr>

    It was very apparent that Su Li had never been properly trained to fight. At least not hand to hand. She hit harder than a girl her size had any right to, judging from the sound of the impacts. But, with my own qi reinforced body, it felt like sparring with a ten year old. I¡¯d worried a little that I would need to lean on the inhuman speed my cultivation lent me, in order to properly play the part of an untouchable master, but I hadn¡¯t really. Su Li just wasn¡¯t that good, even by the standards of your average western MMA gym.

    It was a curious paradox, that someone ostensibly dedicating their lives to martial arts would be so bad at them. I knew she was both young and untrained for a cultivator, and actively studied the sword, not boxing, but her footwork was remarkably bad. She tended to allow her feet to drift far too close together when closing in for a strike, and constantly overestimated the effective range of her attacks. I might know virtually nothing about proper swordsmanship, but I was now confident I could spend months teaching her boxing if I had to, potentially drag it out for years if I could convince her that grappling was a useful art to learn as well. And I didn¡¯t think it would be a waste of time for her, not really.

    While her relative inexperience made martial lessons easy to handle, I might not be a black belt, but I had spent years practicing wrestling and jiu-jitsu, cultivation would be another matter.

    ¡°Take a moment to recover, we¡¯ll begin the cultivation portion of this lesson once you¡¯re ready.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± Su Li coughed out. ¡°Now master.¡±

    I ignored her, she clearly wasn¡¯t. As Su Li slowly got her breathing under control, I began pacing the length of the grove. It¡¯d always been a habit of mine, to walk as I thought, and I didn¡¯t think it compromised my image as an aloof master too much. The truth was, I didn¡¯t have much to give her here. I could barely visualize a cycling pattern as described in a manual, I had no hope of offering her improvements over what had been written down by the original author. I couldn¡¯t share general cultivation tips, I couldn¡¯t control my own, let alone improve it. But I couldn¡¯t afford to start our relationship on a weak lecture, I needed to convince her I knew what I was doing, and that meant throwing out everything and the kitchen sink, and simply trusting I¡¯d manage to find enough material for a second lecture by the time I got to it.

    Seeing that she was finally ready, I began.

    ¡°The Manual of the Passing Moon is a standard manual of our sect. However, the moon and night are not foundational elements of my own cultivation. I cannot offer you a direct improvement on its cycling patterns. I do not think, at this time, it would be prudent for you to even consider changing your cycling technique. Instead, as you cultivate, I will share my understanding of the moon and night, in the hope that you might glean something of use from them.¡±

    ¡°Master! This Su Li thanks you for your teachings!¡±

    As Su Li settled atop one of the stumps that didn¡¯t have swords resting against it, I began planning the rough flow of my lecture. I¡¯d always found I delivered my best public speaking that way, minimal outline, no practice, flying by the seat of my pants. I¡¯d spent a great deal of time yesterday reading about the moon from the perspective of cultivators, and the yinyang as well, since the moon was strongly associated with yin cultivation methods. Most of it still went over my head, and of what didn¡¯t, I strongly suspected a lot of what was written down was bullshit. Epistemic standards were poor, many authors were irrationally attached to one or more of their pet ideas, and frankly, I still wasn¡¯t sold on the idea of yin and yang as universal organizing principles. But the Manual of the Passing Moon was, and it appeared the moon roughly worked the same way here as it did on earth, so I¡¯d tried to work both concepts together in my lecture.

    ¡°Let us begin with the moon. It is said that of the celestial bodies, the moon is the most absolute expression of yin. Many cultivators repeat this statement as dogma, but if asked why, only reinforce their claim with platitudes. The truth is in fact simple. Yin is often described as the feminine principle, or the cold principle, but a better description of it is the receptive, mirroring, or absent principle. The moon itself is cold and desolate, and life is absent there, but its truest connection to the concept of yin is in its nature as a mirror. The moon does not emit light. Not even the least amount. And yet it shines in the sky. This light is in fact the reflection of the sun, colored a cold white by the nature of the moon¡¯s surface.

    ¡°The phases of the moon too are aspects of the receptive principle. At any time, save for the rare eclipse, half of the moon is lit by the light of the sun. And yet, the half that is lit, is not always the half of the moon facing earth. The moon is full when these two properties are in alignment, and waning when the celestial dance causes the lit face to turn away from the earth. The new moon and waxing moons mark the beginning of this cycle, as the lit face again turns to face the earth.¡±

    Su Li gave no indication she¡¯d heard anything I said. I could feel something from the girl, like a cold heartbeat, perhaps an indication of her cultivation, but I didn¡¯t know how to judge if it was going well or poorly. There were no visible signs, no silver aura forming around her. I felt a little foolish, lecturing to an audience that appeared for all intents deaf to my words. But I pushed on, it was the least I owed the girl who had placed her hopes with a fraud.

    ¡°The Manual of the Passing Moon suggests that one view the cycle of the moon as a similar phenomena to that of the sun. Present at times, absent by degrees at others. This is an oversimplification. The moon is governed not by one cycle, but by two intersecting. The sun¡¯s movement determines its phase in the general lunar cycle, but the hour of its rising, and its position in the sky are determined by its own movement relative to the earth. The intricacies of these interactions give rise to many of the rarer lunar phenomena, like blood moons and eclipses.

    ¡°The dance of the celestial bodies is complex, and governed by principles that are best explained with arcane mathematics, so I will end this lecture with two questions for you to consider during your meditation. The first, is that given what I have told you about the moon, why are the specifics of its behavior so much less predictable than those of the sun? Every farmer can tell you how many hours of light they will receive in any given month of the year, but few can tell you when the next blood moon will occur, or what part of the sky the moon will shine next winter. The second, is how might the moon¡¯s unpredictability be applicable to your cultivation?¡±

    Su Li sat silently, her chest slowly rising and falling. The moon shone fully overhead now, a sliver of a crescent just a hair fatter than it had been yesterday. Something about that image felt congruent to me, in a way I couldn¡¯t quite put into words. It wasn¡¯t just the idea of improvement, of being better than one was yesterday. It might have been a trick of the mind, but I could almost feel the qi I knew Su Li was cultivating, a cold bright shadow upon the skin, a memory of light. Careful not to make a sound, I grabbed my sword off the stump, and left my student to her cultivation.

    I wanted to say something more, to wish her luck, to apologize that I could not teach her more, but there was nothing I could say. Every well-wish was too hollow, every honest word too dangerous. Instead, I ran. Silent as shadow, faster than air, miles fell away beneath my feet. I needed true privacy for this, and enough distance to be certain I would not disturb my disciple. I¡¯d pulsed my qi before, when I lost control of my temper, sensed the barest hints of other people''s qi when they used it. If I could do it once, I could do it again.

    Alone, save for the trees that towered over me, swaddled in the soft shadows of freshly fallen night, I stared out at the blackened heavens. I let the rage build beneath my skin, in a way I hadn¡¯t had cause to for years. Su Li¡¯s fate struck a chord within me, a fear I¡¯d buried the moment I¡¯d awoken. I¡¯d left much behind, a home recently purchased, a woman I¡¯d thought I would marry, a family much thinned by disease.

    If I ever made it home, a thin hope already that, would anyone I¡¯d left behind even be there to greet me? This preceding decade had taken almost the entire elder generation of my family, would the next take my own father?

    If the heavens felt this righteous, I would make them bleed.

    Qi roared through my veins, building to a furious crescendo before echoing outwards into the world.

    Leaves fell around me, severed by my rampant will. Yes, this would serve. It wasn¡¯t me. It wasn¡¯t mine. But it would serve.

 Chapter 10 - Everything In This World

    Somehow, I¡¯d found myself once more standing in the makeshift auditorium where I¡¯d met and offended Elder Li. Once again the forested glade with its rows of felled trees for benches was filled with disciples. This time though, there were a few differences. The crowd was a little older, there were no ten year olds in attendance today, the youngest disciples looked in their teenage years, but they were on average well into adulthood. A few even looked visibly aged, a rarity in the sect. Additionally, a few actual chairs had been moved out and scattered throughout the front row, and were now occupied by a few of the sect¡¯s elders.

    Finally, and perhaps most importantly, this time instead of lurking at the back of the room, I stood at the lecturer¡¯s podium, another piece of actual furniture we¡¯d drug out into the woods. Apparently, the sheer novelty of me giving a lecture had resulted in unprecedented interest, forcing the organizers to either hold it here, or put limits on the attendance. I¡¯d have opted for the latter, but nobody had asked me.

    I still wasn¡¯t quite sure who had made the logistics happen to put this together, I certainly hadn¡¯t lifted a finger. I suspected Elder Liang, given that Liang Tao had been the one to stop by and inform me of the scheduled time, but I¡¯d be shocked if Elder Li hadn¡¯t been involved. He had apparently been the one to set up this clearing for his large class of initiates, and I suspected he¡¯d volunteered it, when he saw a plausible excuse to prevent me from using an actual lecture hall. While the sheer number of disciples in attendance wasn¡¯t ideal, I didn¡¯t much mind the makeshift venue otherwise. What I had in mind would work better outdoors anyway, where I wouldn¡¯t need to worry about ceilings.

    It was a novel experience for me, to be anxious about public speaking. I¡¯d always found it natural in a way my peers never had, from policy debate in high school, to when my first consulting gig had forced me to attend the local toastmasters chapter. I¡¯d always just shown up with the most bare-bones of outlines imaginable and talked about the subject for ten minutes. I never understood why other people had difficulty with it. But this? This was insane. There must have been nearly a thousand disciples in the crowd. And I was about to disappoint them all.

    I took a deep breath, and let it out. The die was cast, I didn¡¯t know enough about cultivation to give any other lecture than the one I¡¯d prepared. I couldn¡¯t afford to throw out the sort of plausibly reasoned but unprovable statements about the world I¡¯d given Su Li, it exposed too much surface for questioning. I¡¯d need to go in an unconventional direction, stick on ground I truly understood. If it got me lynched, then so be it.

    The massive crowd was an eclectic bunch. The grand majority of disciples wore the black and blue uniform of the sect, but here and there a few splotches of color stood out like sore thumbs. Most of them were concentrated in the front, worn by higher ranking members of the sect, but there were a few clumps of outer disciples that broke from the standard color scheme. One large clump wore ragged looking robes in greens and browns that reminded me of camouflage patterns, another group had replaced the standard dark blue trim with eye-catching white. I wondered who they were.

    Slowly, I let my eyes drift to the front row. The three elders I¡¯d already met were in attendance, but they weren¡¯t the only ones seated. Liang Tao had a chair as well, next to his master, or mother, I still wasn¡¯t sure about that. I was leaning mother, from how much she seemed to be using him as an errand boy. There were about twenty chairs in the front row total, so conservatively perhaps ten elders I¡¯d never met, who would be listening to this. Su Li was also sitting in the front row, on one of the logs set between the chairs. I wondered how long she¡¯d been waiting there, to be sure that she would have the best seat. Or perhaps one of the elders had saved her one? I didn¡¯t think it would be common knowledge in the sect yet that I¡¯d chosen to teach her, even if those three elders knew.

    I wondered if she¡¯d known Elder Liang would be here, or if she¡¯d simply swallowed her hate and fear to support me.

    I swallowed, then swallowed again, forcing down the dry lump that had formed in my throat. It was showtime. I raised one hand, and slapped the top of the podium. Cultivator strength meant that even a comparatively gentle blow resounded like a gunshot, immediately silencing the myriad of conversations that had sprung up as people waited.

    ¡°In my many years walking this earth I once lived in a land far from here, beneath strange heavens.¡± I began, fear falling away as I launched into the one part of this lecture I¡¯d rehearsed, my hook. ¡°In this land, there was a man renowned for his talent at the arts. Many called him a genius. Many called him mad. These two groups were not without shared membership. His name was Kan Ye of the West. Like many geniuses, he was eccentric and quick to take offense. But even those who envied or hated him could not deny his skill. He wrote famous songs and designed garments prized the world over, and dabbled in any craft that caught his fancy. Once, a man asked him, ¡®Kan Ye, you practice many arts, what is the difference in how you approach tailoring and how you approach music¡¯?

    ¡°Kan Ye looked at him, and said: ¡®Everything in this world is exactly the same.¡¯¡±

    I paused for a moment, to let that sink in. Did I want to expound upon it? Probably not. An argument could be attacked, an implication needed to be defined before it could be argued against. The audience was silent, but there was a tension there now that had been lacking earlier, you could tell everyone and their aunt wanted to share their takes on the subject with their nearest neighbor.

    ¡°Today, I will teach you how to properly prepare fried rice.¡±

    The tension burst, and murmurs flowed through the clearing, as every disciple either exclaimed about the lesson¡¯s profundity, or remarked that perhaps Kan Ye wasn¡¯t the only one who was mad. Only the elders refrained from commentary, limiting themselves to raised eyebrows. Elder Li tilted his head and frowned, as if attempting to make the same face I had when watching his lecture. The ridiculousness of it brought a small smile to my lips. That man was as prickly as a porcupine¡¯s bastard by way of a cactus. I waited a few moments for the comments to run their course, before letting loose a gentle pulse of qi, my influence bursting forth like a wave. The silence that followed in its wake was most satisfying.

    ¡°Fried rice is a simple dish. It can be prepared with near any combination of vegetables, meats, and seasonings. It¡¯s very simplicity gives rise to extraordinary complexity, as even a master chef would be hard pressed to opine on the subject of what constitutes the most perfect fried rice, for the potential combinations are boundless. Some chefs claim that the best fried rice is the classical salty and savory variant, others prefer a heavily spiced curried rice, and still others eschew the more traditional protein for crab meat, or introduce exotic fruits and hot peppers to create something sweet and spicy. The rice can be left untouched, seasoned only by salt, oil, and the breath of the wok, enhanced with concentrated stocks or fish sauces, or even have thicker, creamier sauces that would be incompatible with a wok added after cooking is finished. And yet, while the possible variations of the recipe are as numberless as the stars in the sky, there are simple rules an aspiring chef might hew to in order to avoid the most common modes of failure.

    ¡°In fried rice, as in all cooking done with a wok, the greatest enemy is water. All foodstuffs bear quantities of that element within themselves, save only those dried to such a degree that they crumble to powder. One cannot avoid water, it is a vital element of the final dish, and a dry fried rice is nearly as bad as a soggy one, but it must be managed. Too much water will cool the pan. A cool pan will cook slowly. Vegetables and meat cooked slowly will render their own juices into the pan. And so the pan will cool further.

    ¡°This abundance of water will lead to a product that is soft and soggy, causing the grains of rice to congeal into an unappetizing mass, and is the clearest mark of an unskilled or impatient chef. Hence the wise chef directs the grand majority of their preparations at avoiding this outcome. The first rule is simple, one should always have all of the ingredients they intend to use at hand, measured out, and cut to the appropriate size. Once the oil is set to fire, the time for such preparations is long passed. The second rule to remember is that slightly older rice is best suited for frying. Such rice should be left to rest for perhaps half a day during the warmer months, and as long as a full day during the cooler ones, or if stored in a cellar. Freshly cooked grains of rice will stick to each other and yield up water freely. A day to dry yields rice with a dry skin, but moist center. In a similar vein, one¡¯s seasonings should be chosen for not only their flavor, but also their intensity. Fermented sauces and stocks can be concentrated through boiling. By using concentrated, or even powdered seasonings, we can avoid introducing excess liquid into our wok.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Finally, there is the matter of fire to consider. As any student of the five phases might be able to tell you, water overcomes fire. The truth of the matter is more complex, but in the case of fried rice this broadly holds true. An excess of water cannot be solved with an excess of fire, for an excess of both will produce steam and cause oil to spatter, neither desirable. The quantity and intensity of fire we use will be determined primarily by the size of our wok.

    ¡°But words can only teach you so much.¡±

    I pulled hard on my storage ring, feeding it a substantial amount of qi. With a dull pop, an elegant stone stove popped into existence before me, already loaded up with the wood I¡¯d tasked Su Li with chopping. After I¡¯d found the stove in one of the many empty buildings dotting the grounds of the sect, I¡¯d spent an afternoon cleaning it in a stream. My own manor¡¯s accommodations were rather ascetic for my tastes, and I was keen on eventually having a properly stocked kitchen again. The disciples chattered wildly, as with more dull pops I drew out ceramic bowls I set upon the felled tree next to me. Spring onions, carrots diced small, thin shreds of raw chicken, eggs beaten well, and a bowl of shelling peas I¡¯d already given a light boil. I hadn¡¯t found soy sauce, but they¡¯d had a sort of fermented fish and wheat sauce they¡¯d called ¡®fish dew¡¯, which combined well with a little concentrated chicken stock. The market district that catered to the outer disciples had been remarkably well stocked, and my budget nigh limitless, my storage ring had been stocked with no shortage of silver. I¡¯d gone all out, purchasing the single largest wok I could find, and enough food to fill it several times over. Once I¡¯d confirmed that fruit did not noticeably ripen in the ring, nothing on heaven or earth could have stopped me from carrying a full pantry with me at all times.

    The stove I¡¯d found was a curious thing, perhaps three feet tall and a foot and a half in diameter. It was well ventilated, but I suspected some sort of qi wizardry was at work, because it seemed to draw in more air, and thus burn hotter, than a device its size should have by convection alone. It was that fact that had cemented the idea of a public cooking lesson in my head. Without its unnatural efficiency making it closer to a jet turbine than a tea stove, I would have struggled to cook on it with a normal sized wok, let alone this near two foot monstrosity I was pretty sure had been crafted as a showpiece.

    ¡°Today, I will be preparing a relatively simple variant of the recipe, a somewhat vegetable heavy version of the classical savory fried rice. The best way to learn is by doing, but a wise man lets the blunders of his brothers serve to fill his plate.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Everything in this world is exactly the same.¡±

    The words echoed in Fang Xiao¡¯s head. They felt¡­ Right. Almost blindingly obvious in hindsight. Was that not the nature of this world, that the talented trod upon those less favored by heaven? Were some more gifted than others in certain domains. Obviously. And yet, had he ever met a swordsman of true skill that did not also have surpassing talent at cultivation?

    ¡°Today, I will teach you how to properly prepare fried rice.¡±

    What.

    Elder Hu¡­ Was an immortal chef? Every disciple and their mother offered opinions about this revelation.

    ¡°Is he deliberately wasting our time to spite Elder Li?¡± Zhao Hui wondered aloud.

    ¡°Finally, an elder with their priorities in the right place.¡± One remarkably fat outer disciple remarked.

    A hundred other things were said, most were not particularly enthusiastic.

    Elder Hu¡¯s pressure silenced the crowd. It wasn¡¯t killing intent. It wasn¡¯t true cultivation pressure either, merely the barest hint of power, less oppressive weight than Fang Xiao could exert if he really tried. But nobody spoke another word. The essence of his qi carried with it a reminder, that a blade did not need to be heavy, to cut.

    And then the man proceeded to launch into a long lecture about water content and wok temperature.

    Fang Xiao tuned it out, he wasn¡¯t interested in learning to cook. He was a little more interested than he was before, knowing that Elder Hu held it in his eyes, but it was Kan Ye''s words that struck a chord in him.

    Could every emperor and sword saint surpass mortal, or even immortal chefs at the culinary arts if they chose to dedicate themselves to them? Something within him whispered ¡®Yes¡¯.

    Fang Xiao had no skill at cooking. Fang Xiao was talented. Fang Xiao knew in his bones that should he dedicate himself, he could master the art. He wouldn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t care about it. But why should he fear to practice the spear, or assume Elder Li¡¯s skill with puppets would forever be beyond him? Why shouldn¡¯t he study alchemy? Master formations? Seek to command every element?

    "Everything in this world is exactly the same." The words echoed in his head. They were unassuming, but were they not the most domineering thing he''d ever heard? This, now this was an idea he could build a foundation on, a truth that could forge a pillar.

    Was the essence of one art independent from the essence of another? Did not every great text say the one true Dao was in all things? Until now, he''d never understood what that meant.

    ¡°Blind heavens, is this what enlightenment feels like?¡± The fat outer disciple muttered. ¡°An excess of fire cannot overcome an excess of water¡­ Of course my five spiced braised pork is dry within, I¡¯m overheating the meat to compensate for the additional water introduced by the vegetables. Excess of water and fire both¡­ Perhaps a spit instead of a pan?¡±

    ¡°No wonder he doesn¡¯t have any students, if all he can teach is mortal cookery.¡± Some foolish child complained.

    ¡°Shut up you idiot, in his hands that wok might as well be a sword, he could split you in twain where you stand and none of the other Elders would say a word.¡± A senior chastised him. Good advice in principle, if wrong in specifics. Sectmaster Meng had little patience for people executing his disciples at the moment, after that debacle with the late Elder Fan.

    Fang Xiao ignored the chattering fools, cycling his cultivation. There was little spare qi here, and to attempt a breakthrough would have been the height of foolishness. But ever since he¡¯d formed the sea that was the root of his foundation, he¡¯d never been without qi within the grounds of the sect. He could at least begin testing different formulations of the elements he commanded, see which of them resonated most profoundly with the truth revealed to him. Lightning and sword was the most obvious answer, but he suspected it wasn¡¯t the best one. And Fang Xiao was not the sort of man who accepted a merely passable answer.

    <hr>

    "While sesame oil can tolerate great heat, adding it at the end helps preserve its aromatic components. Its strong flavor and comparative expense makes it less suitable as a base for frying than soybean oil or well clarified lard, so I prefer to use it as a finishing touch, so I can know exactly how much I need."

    With a final flip for style, moved the still sizzling wok off the heat. I didn''t really have anywhere to put it, so I just held the massive wok, nearly two feet in diameter, with one hand. It might as well have been a paper fan for all it strained my forearm.

    With my actual lecture finished, I felt I needed to give the audience something to cling to, lest I seed more rumors than necessary about my sudden madness.

    ¡°I will leave the obvious corollaries of this endeavor to alchemy and formation design for the listener to uncover.¡±

    There. A challenge, and a suitably vague one at that. Cooking and alchemy seemed to have obvious parallels, just as cooking and chemistry did, and from everything I¡¯d read in the library, formation design seemed to be the most underspecified field of study of all time. It was like physics, in that formation masters loved to claim that everyone else¡¯s field of study was just a special case of theirs. While browsing the library looking for resources for Su Li, I¡¯d found a scroll some ¡®Elder Cai¡¯ had written, an entire treatise about how ¡®Alchemy is just a special case of formation design, which is the purest emanation of the great dao mortals can hope to comprehend¡¯. I¡¯d found the entire thing quite self-aggrandizing, and pretty useless from a practical perspective. All I¡¯d learned from that book was that you could call literally anything formation design and someone would agree with you.

    ¡°Feel free to help yourselves to some rice. You¡¯ll need to find your own bowls though.¡±

    I looked at the crowd. When I¡¯d first come up with this insane plan, I hadn¡¯t planned for several hundred people to show up. Luckily, operation mobile pantry had left me well prepared for such an eventuality.

    I pulled a cutting board out of my ring.

    ¡°I suppose I should do a second batch.¡±

    Fuck. I should have bought a second wok. Or a serving dish to match it. What was I going to put all the finished rice in?

 Chapter 11 - Truth and Fried Rice

    It turned out, I didn¡¯t really need to worry about a lack of a serving dish. The very instant I said ¡®You¡¯ll need to find your own bowls¡¯ a rather round outer disciple had sprinted off his log like a bat out of hell. A few other disciples left more sedately, whether to acquire bowls, or out of disgust with my lecture, I could not tell, but the majority just sort of milled around chatting, clearly confused about what to do next. A few minutes later, the fat disciple returned with a massive stack of mismatched bowls, wooden, earthenware, even a few of white porcelain, all balanced precariously in his arms.

    As I diced more carrots, he began distributing his bowls. It was difficult to tell exactly what was going on from my podium, but from the way people clustered around him, and the occasional flash of silver changing hands, it looked like he was either selling or renting out his massive stock of bowls. He seemed like he would be worth getting to know, I didn¡¯t know how much tropes would apply in this seemingly real world, but shamelessly scalping one¡¯s fellow disciples was pretty classic Xianxia protagonist behavior, even if being overweight wasn¡¯t.

    "What exactly was that supposed to be?"

    I looked up, my knife never slowing, to see Elder Li standing before me. It was interesting how natural any bladed implement felt in my hand these days. I¡¯d never been bad with a knife, even in my old life I could do a 12 part chicken-dismantling without a single stray cut, but now, I had a sort of supernatural exproprioception for sharp objects.

    "A lecture."

    I would try to be kind, conciliatory, but standing at my podium, fully half the crowd could hear every word we said. There was only so far I could bend.

    "That was an embarrassment to the sect. This many disciples gather to learn from your experiences with cultivation and the sword, and instead you teach them about mortal cookery? Many of those in the audience have worked for years to achieve grain liberation, to step beyond the limits that bound them.¡±

    I frowned.

    "I never said I would speak about the sword. Did Elder Liang imply as such when she organized this event?"

    "That''s beside the point. Your reputation speaks louder than Elder Liang ever could. These disciples took time out of their days to hear you speak, and what you offered them is trivia any housewife could provide, which will offer no aid to their cultivation.¡±

    ¡°Good food helps build a strong body.¡±

    ¡°And cultivation builds a stronger one. One free of the impurities within muscle built by mortal grain.¡±

    ¡°These things are not mutually exclusive. Mortal cookery is the foundation of immortal cookery. Being able to reason about qi interactions in your ingredients is pointless if you don¡¯t have the foundation to handle the ingredients themselves properly.

    ¡°Immortal cookery is a frivolity beyond the means of most of our disciples to ever engage in." Elder Li shot back, his voice slowly rising in volume. "Only pampered nobles can hope to afford to eat their way to the heights of cultivation.¡±

    ¡°No mountain has only one path to the summit, Elder Li. Cooking isn¡¯t some pit you throw money into any more than alchemy is, it is not lesser to it just because it lends itself less to violence.¡±

    "Don¡¯t spout platitudes at me. Can cooking repair a broken core like a pill can? Can a meal command lightning, or restore a missing arm? Alchemy is the foundational art of transformation, cooking a poor shadow that apes its meanest miracles. At least a sword can protect a man, cooking cannot offer even that.¡±

    I sighed. I really didn''t want a conflict with Elder Li. But needs must when the devil drives.

    ¡°I have never found swordsmanship to be an art that lends itself to teaching by lecture.¡± I said slowly, finally ceasing my chopping. I held the knife I¡¯d purchased at the market before me, and stroked a finger along its side. ¡°But if you so desperately want a demonstration¡­¡±

    I focused on that curious sense for sharp objects I¡¯d begun to develop, and focused on the knife in my hand. I imagined what it would be like to cut, to feel the knife glide through unresisting flesh. Then I did it again, and again, and again. Something built in the edge, less a pressure than a potential, a memory of things yet to occur. Following my intuition, I kept going, until the knife felt like it had reached the very edge of what it could bear.

    I¡¯d removed quite a few things from my ring, preparing for the second batch of rice. Bowls of already prepared rice of course, carrots and peas still in their shells, and an entire raw chicken.

    I flipped the knife over, and plunged it directly into the breast of the chicken.

    It wouldn¡¯t be strictly correct, to say the chicken exploded. It was more like someone suddenly turned on a garbage disposal without the splash guard. The potential cuts stored within the knife seemed to blend with each other as they all activated at once, their momentum transferring in unpredictable directions. Little bits of raw chicken flew everywhere, thoroughly coating the two of us.

    Immediately after I did it, I felt bad. It was stupid and childish, and more importantly, a waste of food. I hated wasting food. But I¡¯d already committed.

    ¡°Is that what you wanted?¡± I asked, puckering my lips to blow a small piece of chicken-goo out from the corner of my mouth. The pulped meat was all over both of us.

    The look Elder Li gave me almost made me feel bad. He was so¡­ disappointed.

    ¡°A brute, through and through.¡±

    I snorted, my frustration with this whole situation suddenly giving way to a manic amusement.

    ¡°You should look in the mirror.¡± I said with a chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re the one who can¡¯t see value in a discipline that doesn¡¯t immediately lend itself to the acquisition of power.¡±

    Elder Li looked like he¡¯d swallowed lemons, between the insult, and the thin patina of chicken that now coated his robes.

    "You are a fool, if you think my objection is about power. We cultivate to defy the tyranny of the heavens, transcend the limits of mortality. Your lesson offers nothing toward that end, the heart of our purpose."

    ¡°I disagree. If you will excuse me, there is a line forming.¡± I gestured past Elder Li, to the milling mass of disciples that was slowly forming into something resembling a line behind him. ¡°I would be happy to continue this discussion with you at a later time, if you would like.¡±

    "If our disciples desired to be servants, they would have stayed at home. We owe them better." Elder Li spat out as he turned to leave.

    ¡°On that at least, we agree.¡± I said quietly. If he heard me, he gave no indication.

    As Elder Li stalked away, I took stock of the mass of humanity before me. They had organized themselves roughly by rank, but not entirely. At the very front of the line, was a familiar face. My disciple. I could already see what had happened here, no doubt all the other inner disciples congregating at the front had wanted to avoid crowding myself and Elder Li, but she had had no such compunctions.

    ¡°Su Li.¡± I greeted her with a nod.

    ¡°Elder Hu. Can this Su Li offer any assistance?¡±

    ¡°Certainly.¡± I pulled a large wooden spoon from my ring. ¡°You can handle serving, while I prepare ingredients for the second batch. Two scoops per person, no seconds unless everyone who wishes has already eaten.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Elder Hu.¡±

    I wondered why she addressed me as Master Hu in private, but by my title in public. I would have to ask about that later.

    Quickly, I shucked off my now thoroughly chicken-coated outer robes, after giving my face a quick wipe down. I suspected I had at least a little chicken still caught in my hair, but since I was still wearing it in Elder Hu¡¯s customary tight bun, I couldn¡¯t do much more than run my fingers over the top without undoing the whole mess.

    Never before had I been so thankful to be wearing three layers, except perhaps the time I¡¯d spilled salsa all over my vest at my aunt¡¯s wedding.

    The line moved quite fast initially, most of the inner disciples towards the front simply accepting their portion, thanking me for the lecture, and moving on.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    A few of them thanked me in the formal third person Su Li liked to use. I suspected it was as much as a way of trying to get me to remember their names as it was a genuine courtesy. I might have been reading too much into the situation, but it seemed like the higher ranking portion of the crowd in particular had thinned heavily when Elder Li and I had begun arguing. They might just have had no interest in mortal food, but I suspected many of the higher ranking disciples viewed accepting a meal from me as a sign of taking sides in our dispute.

    Still, at least twenty of them accepted a bowl, including Liang Tao, who requested a second on behalf of his master. I tried to remember their faces, but it was too many, too fast, for me to track them all.

    A few disciples offered to assist me as Su Li had, but I waved them off. I didn¡¯t need more entanglements at this stage, or additional help. I only had the one wok, I wouldn¡¯t be able to cook until it was empty anyway.

    ¡°Elder Hu, this one is inner disciple Fang Xiao, and he begs your leave to ask a question.¡±

    I took a break from my chopping to take a look at the disciple who had spoken.

    Fang Xiao was the sort of disciple I imagined spent his time beating girls off with sticks. He was the first person I¡¯d seen in the sect who had k-pop hair. Not the bright colors some of them sported, his was jet black, but he wore his in a style that resembled a side-swept undercut, except longer all around, terminating in a great poof of stylishly tousled bed-head that hung low, partially occluding one of his eyes. Around his exposed wrist, dangled a one piece white jade bracelet set with three brilliant yellow stones, which matched the singular stud earring he wore in the same style. Even wearing the silken version of the generic sect uniform, it was abundantly clear the young man put a great deal of effort into his appearance. He stood a few inches taller than me, though a little shorter than Elder Xin, with the same sort of trim but fit build the men here favored.

    ¡°You may ask.¡± I replied.

    ¡°Was Kan Ye mad?¡±

    I thought about it for a moment.

    ¡°Yeah, probably.¡±

    Fang Xiao¡¯s forehead tensed for a moment, surprised.

    ¡°But then, what he said. ¡®Everything in this world is exactly the same.¡¯ Is it true, or not?¡±

    ¡°That¡± I said slowly, ¡°Is a dumb question. Good on you for asking it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± He half asked, half apologized.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be, it¡¯s sometimes dumb questions that teach us the most. Smart questions can only give you answers about what you know you don¡¯t know. Dumb questions can teach you about what you don¡¯t know you don¡¯t know.¡±

    Fang Xiao looked thoroughly confused at this point, clearly not expecting the conversation to go in this direction.

    ¡°All ideas are wrong. Some of them are useful.¡±

    I held up a carrot.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°A carrot.¡± Fang Xiao answered slowly.

    ¡°And what is this?¡± I asked again, holding up a different carrot.

    ¡°A carrot?¡± He asked, more than answered.

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re both carrots. And yet, they are not the same carrot. This one is short and stout, with deep divots along its crown, probably from a rabbit trying to get at it, and a number of thin lateral roots. The other is thinner, more flexible, with the majority of its roots extending from the tip.

    ¡°Carrots are interchangeable, but no alchemist worth their salt would not consider two Tri-Colored Lilies to be interchangeable. Two swords are certainly not, and two humans? The very idea is laughable.

    ¡°A name cannot encompass the entirety of a thing¡¯s nature any more than a map can literally embody the portion of the world it depicts. At least, not in normal circumstances.¡± I added, suddenly remembering that we were in a world full of people who could opt out of the laws of physics.

    ¡°If neither of us can fully describe this vegetable with a word.¡± I wiggled the carrot in his face. ¡°Then how could we expect Kan Ye to distill the nature of all skill and endeavor into a single sentence? Is it a true statement? No, not strictly. Nothing that broad could ever be wholly true. Is it useful? Probably. Does it embody a dangerous sort of arrogance that might lead one to ruin? Also probably.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Elder Hu, this one understands.¡± Fang Xiao said, with a curious look on his face.

    I took a good look at him, trying to piece together exactly what he thought he understood. He squirmed beneath my focused attention, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He said he was an inner disciple. I wondered exactly what that entailed. Liang Tao clearly had a master, but I wasn¡¯t sure that was a requirement for the rank. How often did he directly interact with the elders, I wondered. Most of us seemed fairly unapproachable for the disciples, perhaps my former self most of all.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure you do. Be careful about taking Kan Ye¡¯s words too literally.¡± I wanted to say something more, but I couldn¡¯t quite find the words to articulate what exactly he should know.

    Before I could find them, Fang Xiao bowed low and turned away, taking the pause as dismissal.

    As he left, several other disciples who¡¯d been close enough to hear my impromptu speech had a variety of looks upon their faces, but nobody spoke up.

    ¡°Enough gawking. If you don¡¯t have a question, keep the line moving.¡± I returned to my chopping, as the line began moving again. As we got towards the outer disciples, most of them accepted food without comment. Few introduced themselves, even in thanks. I was more than fine with this, and content to let it continue.

    Until I recognized a familiar face. Or, well, a familiar body shape.

    ¡°You were the one who brought all those bowls.¡±

    ¡°Y-Yes Elder Hu. This one is Qian Min.¡±

    I nodded. Qian Min cut an interesting figure. He was definitely heavyset, by far the most overweight disciple I¡¯d seen here, but it wasn¡¯t all fat. His shoulders were broad and well muscled, hinting at a powerful physique beneath the belly. Unlike most of the male disciples, he wore his dark brown hair cropped short.

    ¡°Good thinking. Your enterprising nature does you credit.¡±

    ¡°I apologize if I overstepped.¡±

    I waved him off.

    ¡°Not at all. You saved me from needing to resolve the bowl problem myself. Please, have some rice.¡±

    I refrained from mentioning my suspicion that he had made a little profit off the endeavor, I didn¡¯t care, and reassuring him that I didn¡¯t care seemed like far too much trouble. After Su Li served him, Quan Min lingered off towards the side, eating slowly. It was transparently obvious he wanted to ask something, but I let him stand there, waiting for him to muster his courage. Only when he had finished his bowl, and seemed on the verge of leaving, did I prompt him.

    ¡°How was it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ Good. It tastes like home.¡±

    That brought a smile to my lips. I had no doubt immortal chefs could do far better, but the Pathless Night didn¡¯t seem like the sort of place that lended itself to people spending quiet evenings with friends over a home cooked meal.

    ¡°Elder Hu?¡± He finally asked.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I.. I have a recipe that has been giving me trouble. I¡¯ve been trying to adapt a five spice braised pork to work with spirit beast meat, but no matter what I try, it doesn¡¯t braise properly. The meat tightens and refuses to soften, even if I cook it for hours.¡±

    I gave Qian Min a profound nod as I panicked internally. Of course, the first disciple who actually wants to discuss cooking has a qi interaction problem.

    ¡°What meat specifically did you try the recipe with?¡±

    ¡°The shoulder of a sun swallowing hog.¡±

    Sun. Closely related to fire I assumed. Braising didn¡¯t really work at higher temperatures, right? I vaguely recalled reading somewhere that protein denaturation worked better under 200 degrees. Perhaps the meat was heating itself? Or did its aspected nature alter it in more profound ways, perhaps requiring higher temperatures to denature?

    ¡°Without testing the specific interaction, I cannot give you a sure solution, but several potential factors stand out. The sun-aspected qi of the beast may release during cooking, and perhaps push the temperature of the meat above that of the surrounding liquid, inhibiting denaturation. If you observe the braising liquid often boiling even at low fire, and remaining tough then eventually collapsing, you might try directly countering that qi, or reducing the temperature of the mixture, perhaps even directly cooling it. If the meat refuses to soften at all, it might simply need additional spiritual ingredients to be compatible with braising at all. It might well require temperatures higher than what water alone can reach to denature.¡±

    ¡°Denaturation?¡±

    ¡°The internal process that occurs during braising that results in meat softening. In mundane beasts, it ceases to work well at temperatures approaching a boil. The meat will still soften eventually, but if the temperature is too high, it will do so by becoming mushy, instead of tender.¡±

    Qian Min nodded along, as if I¡¯d confirmed something he¡¯d long suspected. Perhaps I had, I doubted most mortal chefs here knew much about proteins. I wondered if cultivators with sufficiently powerful divine sense could see them directly? It still didn¡¯t seem like knowledge that would be widespread. For most chefs, knowing the how was useful, knowing the why was trivia.

    ¡°Thank you Elder Hu, I will try that. I did notice my braise was getting unexpectedly hot.¡±

    ¡°Let me know how it goes. It¡¯s an interesting question.¡±

    Qian Min bowed deeply at the waist, before leaving. Or rather, retreating outside my field of view. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him waving down disciples to collect their bowls.

    I looked out at the line. It still stretched to the far end of the clearing. Halfway done, if that. Truly, this sect had a lot of outer disciples. Scraping the last bits of rice out of the wok, I began a second monstrously large batch of rice.

    I¡¯d always liked cooking for crowds, but this was ridiculous.

    <hr>

    Fang Xiao walked away in a daze. It had hit him, like a bolt from the blue, the simple truth at the core of Elder Hu''s lesson. It''d been a small risk, asking the legendarily impatient Elder for clarification, however good a mood he appeared to be in, that could change in moments.

    His stomach had sunk, when the Elder had declared his question dumb, only to leave him shocked as the man launched into a lecture to correct his misconceptions. Even if it had taken direct prompting for him to grasp it, the truth he had gleaned was well worth it.

    A tantalizing hint at the very nature of meaning. Fang Xaio slowly stumbled home, his attention already turned inwards as he reacquainted himself with a technique he''d long since mastered and put aside as a dead end.

    Everything in this world was exactly the same.

    False.

 Chapter 12 - A Day in the Life

    Su Li groaned as her eyes stubbornly popped open again. Her shutters had come loose again during the night, letting the hateful sun pour a blinding torrent of light through her open window. To add insult to injury, they flopped back and forth in the light breeze, occasionally slapping loudly against the outer walls of her cottage. She pressed her face into her pillow, but it was futile. No matter how she contorted, the light and noise found a way in.

    Finally, she blearily stumbled out of bed. It had to be nearly noon, even if she could fall back asleep, she couldn¡¯t afford another late morning. She¡¯d put off her allotted shift too long already, it had to be today. A mug of hot tea sounded heavenly, but her stack of firewood was almost empty, and the coals had long since cooled. She checked the kettle, and there was still a little water in it. It tasted of iron, but one perk of the chilly weather is that at least it wasn¡¯t lukewarm. For a moment, she missed living in the initiates dormitories.

    Sure, they were loud, there was never enough room, or any privacy, and any good stuff always got stolen, but at least there was always a fire. On second thought, perhaps she should count her blessings that she had earned her own cottage. Even if the shutters didn¡¯t work. And she had to cut her own firewood.

    It was a little ironic that she was out of firewood, after all she¡¯d chopped recently. But Elder Hu had put it to good use. She smiled, remembering last night¡¯s dinner. It hadn¡¯t been anything like her mother¡¯s fried rice, with crispy pork belly and little cubes of seared zucchini. But it had been real food, with actual seasonings, that she hadn¡¯t had to pay for. And she¡¯d been able to eat as much as she wanted. She was perhaps the only disciple who was able to say that, her master had let her have a second, then a third, serving, once it was clear all the disciples who wanted a bowl had been fed.

    Her cultivation might be weak, at only the fourth stage of Qi Gathering, but it was still enough that skipping breakfast and lunch would be only a mild inconvenience after such a meal, at least within the sect''s grounds. Plus, if she was lucky, Disciple Sun Ming might feed them.

    If not, with her last shift done she could claim her allowance on the way back and make her own dinner anyway.

    Her whistle wetted, Su Li pulled her outer robes on and stepped out into the chilly morning air.

    The Pathless Night was always quiet in the mornings, but that was even more true in the outer sect than anywhere else. Most outer disciples cultivated manuals that were most efficient, or even only possible to cycle, at night. And almost as a rule, outer disciples did not have sufficiently deep cultivation bases to go without sleep for more than a day at a time. There were exceptions, strange freaks like Geng Ru that seemed to never need sleep despite only being in Qi Condensation. If Su Li had learned one thing at the sect, it was that there were no rules to cultivation, only suggestions. But most disciples were still bound by the tyranny of the clock, both the heaven¡¯s and the sect¡¯s. And so Su Li joined the thin stream of disciples heading towards the fields.

    She didn¡¯t see anyone she knew, so she kept to herself as she walked. Most of her fellow outer disciples were safe enough, at least in the common areas. More desperate or foolish, than true demons. But it didn¡¯t pay to draw the attention of the few exceptions to that rule. She¡¯d been lucky, that she had learned that lesson from observation, rather than experience.

    She still remembered how Deng Xue had cried himself to sleep for a week, after his mother¡¯s necklace was stolen. For the rest of her time in the dormitories, she¡¯d slept clutching her father¡¯s sword like a doll.

    It wasn¡¯t a long walk to the fields. The outer sect was massive, but whoever had laid down the plans had been kind, or perhaps simply logistically minded, and they¡¯d set the majority of outer disciple residences relatively close to the fields most of them spent their days tending. As always, it was the smell that struck her first. The fields of rice were still flooded, the outer sect¡¯s mild climate meant they didn¡¯t drain for the harvest until late in the ninth month, still a few weeks away. She liked the smell of the rice. The fields smelled like good mud, but richer, more alive. She knew from experience just how alive they were. While they were flooded, the gnats and flies did their level best to eat the disciples assigned to them.

    Hongzhou had mostly raised cows and pigs, and while the smells of grass and shit reminded her of home, if she was honest, she much preferred the smell of the paddies. She didn¡¯t miss working them though. There were always so many midges.

    She was on herb duty now, and glad for it. She still had to help with the rice harvest, and the threshing, every outer disciple without a sponsor, or the money to buy their way out of the duty did. But she didn¡¯t have to maintain the system of ditches and levees that fed the fields, or spend her days pulling up weeds from between the rice plants.

    Now she spent her days pulling up weeds among the lesser spiritual herbs. Ruby ginseng, five-flavored berries, black angelica, and a dozen more that all went into the pills the sect gave out to outer disciples in the allotment. Most of them were pretty mundane, fairly normal plants with odd colorations that just so happened to absorb qi. She still wasn¡¯t allowed to touch, let alone tend to, the more dangerous plants, like the Wild Gorechids. But in the hands of Elder Su¡¯s disciples, those mundane plants were transformed into Hallowed Night pills by the thousands, one of which was distributed each month to the sect¡¯s outer disciples.

    This late in the year, her job was mostly pruning and feeding the ruby ginseng. The strange matte black stalks of the black angelica rotted any weeds foolish enough to grow near them, and the five-flavored berries were harvested weeks ago. The ginseng, though, needed to be fattened before its winter hibernation. It was a curious plant. Her grandmother had grown mortal ginseng before, back in Hongzhou. It¡¯d been a great occasion when the little plants had finally grown their fourth stalk and been ready for harvesting, almost a decade after she¡¯d planted them in their little garden. Ruby ginseng wasn¡¯t like that. It grew to maturity in less than three years in the fertile ground of the sect, and it grew stalks like weeds, regularly needing pruning to prevent it from wasting all of its energy growing upwards rather than fattening its root. It also needed to be doused twice a month with a liquid fertilizer she was pretty sure was made with human blood.

    It was her first year being trusted with responsibility for a patch of the valuable plants, and she wasn¡¯t going to disappoint Sun Ming, no matter how unsettling the red tint of the stalks was. Lest she be fed to them. Or worse, relegated to the rice fields.

    As Su Li settled into her first patch, scissors in hand, she felt a shadow pass over her back.

    ¡°Disciple Su! Finally! You neglected my babies so long I was thinking I¡¯d have to handle this patch myself!¡±

    Sun Ming was watching. Sun Ming was always watching. The plants were her babies, and if she felt that what they needed to grow properly was the blood of outer disciples, then by the four prime hells she would water them with the blood of outer disciples. She was also the nicest inner disciple Su Li knew of, and one of the few disciples at the sect, inner or otherwise, that Su Li could honestly call a friend.

    Sun Ming was a curious person, full of contradictions. Her hair was a brilliant yellow, shining in the dull light of the early morning sun like spun gold. Her eyes were as green as the plants she loved, the more mundane ones at least. She was also tall and broad shouldered, with more muscle on her arms than most men. A disciple had mocked her for that once, claimed no man would ever want her for a wife. She¡¯d laughed loudly, agreed with him, then slapped him so hard his jaw broke.

    Most of the disciples that quickly resorted to violence scared Su Li. But despite her hair trigger temper, she¡¯d always been sure that Sun Ming would never hurt her. At least, as long as she never gave her cause to. Even though she loudly proclaimed that she hated people, and only loved plants, she was one of the kindest of the inner disciples.

    Su Li wondered if all powerful cultivators were like that, two-faced. Elder Hu certainly seemed to be.

    ¡°What are you staring into space for! Greet your senior sister!¡±

    ¡°Su Li greets Senior Sister Sun.¡±

    ¡°Not like that!¡± Sun Ming shouted, waving her hands in the air. ¡°Give me a hug, I haven¡¯t seen you all week! What¡¯s all this I hear about you having found a master? I leave you alone for a few days, and this is what you get up to?¡±

    ¡°You know about Master Hu?¡±

    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t! Well, who among the inner disciples that is. You outies are like mushrooms, fed shit and kept in the dark, where you grow best. Or, the opposite I suppose, since you¡¯re not allowed into the real dark.¡± Sun Ming paused, and looked back at her. ¡°Don¡¯t distract me!¡± She exclaimed, rather unfairly in Su Ling¡¯s book. She had been doing no such thing.

    ¡°Still, congratulations are in order.¡± Sun Ming continued. ¡°I¡¯m sure with a master like crotchety old Hu you¡¯ll be joining us in the inner sect in no time at all.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°You think so?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I bet it won¡¯t take you more than a decade to establish your foundation!¡±

    ¡°A decade?¡±

    ¡°What, were you looking to do it even faster? Not all of us can be Fang Xiao. Why, your senior sister still hasn¡¯t completed hers and I¡¯m old enough I¡¯d be a spinster if I were still a mortal.¡±

    ¡°Sun Ming¡­ How old are you?¡±

    ¡°Did you really never think to ask that until now?¡± Sun Ming shook her head and made an exaggerated clucking noise. Then, she leaned in and said with a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°This year, your beloved senior sister will be¡­ Thirty-seven.¡±

    Su Li didn¡¯t know what to say to that. She¡¯d heard the stories, as a child. Legendary cultivators spending a hundred years training, before they took vengeance. She¡¯d just never considered herself one of them. But Kang Guo had been beyond foundation establishment. Core formation, at the very least, to have killed her father. That wasn¡¯t just the work of one decade then, but two or three.

    She shivered, at the thought of spending more years than she had lived so far, chasing her father¡¯s killer. She¡¯d known that the journey would be long, but to consider thirty years a rapid rise, made it feel altogether different. Would it still hurt this much, when she was almost as old as her father had been? Would she still remember his face? Would Kang Guo even remember his name?

    ¡°What is it with you today! Got something on your mind more interesting than your senior sister?¡±

    ¡°N-no, Sister Sun.¡±

    ¡°Pfwah, you¡¯re no fun to tease while you¡¯re like this. I¡¯ll come back later, when you¡¯ve settled your head.¡±

    Sun Ming crouched down, like a cat preparing to pounce. The ruby ginseng plots were terraces cut into the side of a hill overlooking the flooded paddies. Normally, people used ladders to get from plot to plot. Sun Ming didn¡¯t do ladders.

    ¡°Oh, that reminds me.¡± She said, pausing at the nadir of her squat. ¡°There¡¯s a small gathering tonight. A few of my peers. A few of your more promising ones. You¡¯re invited.¡±

    ¡°Invited?¡± Su Li asked, already knowing the answer.

    ¡°You¡¯re coming. Unless you have a real excuse.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had a long week.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. You¡¯re still coming, for your own good. For better or worse, you¡¯re interesting now.¡±

    ¡°Is this an invitation, or an order?¡±

    Sun Ming sighed, then stood up straight, and stepped back towards Su Li. Up close, she towered over the younger disciple.

    ¡°Look, I know you have¡­ issues with some of our disciples. They¡¯re not all as soft-hearted as you and I. But you chose this sect, and the ones on the guest list tonight are on the better side. Information is power, and if you''re smart you can parlay even inoffensive secrets into concrete benefits. Free food, access to technique manuals, sometimes even actual cultivation materials.

    ¡°You can either play the game, or be a piece on the board, but after your showing yesterday you can''t stay out of it. And you do not have the strength to protect yourself if someone like Fang Xiao decides to stop asking politely.¡±

    Su Li clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. None of them had cared if she lived or died just a few days ago. But now, they all wanted to be her friend, to pick her brain about why Elder Hu had shown interest in her. For the moment.

    ¡°Very well.¡± She ground out through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Night above, you¡¯re acting like I¡¯m telling you to shovel the stables, instead of attend a party. Fang Xiao¡¯s at the beginning of the rooster¡¯s hour. Be there, and take a bath first. Do not make me drag you there.¡± Sun Ming paused, then quietly added. ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing, with Elder Hu.¡±

    Without waiting for a reply, she again crouched down, then leapt. Sun Ming soared through the air, landing two terraces up without a sound.

    ¡°Dong Luoyang! What do you think you¡¯re doing with those ginseng! Why are those stems wilting!¡±

    Su Li chuckled despite herself. If nothing else, Sun Ming could always be trusted to be Sun Ming.

    ¡°So do I.¡± She muttered under her breath.

    She still didn''t know what to think about Master Hu. He was nothing like the stories the older disciples had told her. But she couldn''t understand why he cared about her. Why her pleas hadn¡¯t fallen on deaf ears.

    She shook her head, and took up her shears. She¡¯d spent hours thinking in circles on the matter. The ginseng wouldn¡¯t trim themselves.

    It was dull, repetitive, work. She filled a pair of buckets with the wet, crimson, fertilizer used for the ginseng, then hauled it back to the patch. Every plant got a trim, until it had no more than three stalks, and eleven leaves. Any more, and according to Sun Ming they might get ¡®appetites beyond their station¡¯, which was a phrase Su Li had no desire to learn the exact meaning behind. Every wound she left with her scissors got daubed with the fertilizer, twice, to encourage healing and prevent infection. Then she poured a thin stream of the bloody mixture into the raised mound at the plant¡¯s base. She waited until it drained enough that it stopped running down the sides, then repeated that twice more, until the soil was thoroughly saturated.

    Easy enough. All she had to do was repeat the process two hundred and fifty five more times. One bucket usually fed five or six plants, and if she took more than two buckets they sometimes started to coagulate before she was done, so she got to make the trek down to the base of the hill, where the compost was stored in a shed that kept it ceaselessly churning, nearly two dozen times.

    By the time she was done, the sun had already begun its descent. She returned the buckets and shears to the shared shed, and then headed to the southern administration hall.

    ¡°Outer Disciple Su Li requests her standard allowance.¡± She said, forgoing a greeting. Never once had she seen one of the hall clerks engage in small-talk while on duty. She placed her sect token on the counter, and the clerk swiped it up with a nod.

    Su Li wasn¡¯t entirely clear how the administration hall verified that the assigned work was done, but she knew they did. She¡¯d seen what happened, when disciples tried to cheat them. Even trying to pick up another disciples allowance with their permission could earn one a caning. The sect didn¡¯t care what happened once the supplies were out of their hands, but they took any attempt to subvert the system at its source very seriously.

    The clerk ran her token over a flat tablet of stone, causing absolutely nothing visible to happen. Then she checked a great book, and made some more notations in it with an ornate bamboo pen. Finally satisfied, they stood up and grabbed a bag from the cubby at the back of their booth, and handed it to her.

    The clerk didn¡¯t bother to say anything. They rarely did, unless you had some business more complex than the standard monthly allowance. Su Li already knew exactly what the bag contained, ten pounds of rice, a single pill, and a quarter string of two hundred and fifty cash coins. Stepping out of the way of the line, Su Li immediately withdrew the small pouch containing the pill and money, and transferred it to an inner pocket of her robes, where it couldn¡¯t be snatched.

    She went directly home, detouring only to grab a bucket of water on the way. One frightfully cold sponge bath and change of clothes later, she found herself again walking towards the first plaza. It was common knowledge that Fang Xiao had earned himself one of the coveted compounds with his first place finish in the under-thirty tournament last year.

    She shivered, remembering how he¡¯d danced around the stage wreathed in lightning, slowly picking his opponents apart as they flailed desperately, unable to so much as touch him. She hadn¡¯t even made it out of the group stage.

    It was funny, how much things could change in a year. Frustrating, how much they could stay the same. Now she was an invited guest in the home of a rising star amongst the inner sect. And yet, she still had nothing of her own. A guest in the world of the mighty. One way or another, she would earn, beg, or borrow the power to stand on her own two feet.

    ¡°There you are!¡± A voice from above greeted her.

    ¡°Sun Ming!¡± Su Li¡¯s voice cracked into a squeak. ¡°Were you waiting for me?¡±

    Sun Ming stood atop a thick branch, looking down at the mountainside path from where she leaned against the trunk. The wan light of the moon back-lit her hair, giving it an ethereal quality. Seemingly without a care in the world, she leaned over into the void, looping the tip of a slipper against the branch as she fell. Her body spun end over end as she fell, before landing in a graceful crouch.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t let you walk into the nest of vipers alone now could I? Besides, if you chickened out, it would be awkward if I needed to make some excuse to leave and drag you over!¡±

    She bounced over to Su Li, her sheer energy seemingly too much for gravity to bother to hold her down to earth. She grabbed Su Li by the sleeve, pulling her along as she launched into a speech.

    ¡°Alright, this is your first time at one of these little get-togethers, so here¡¯s the basics. Since you were personally invited, greet the host in the first hour. Don¡¯t let anyone turn a conversation into an interrogation. If they want secrets, be sure you get as good as you give. The food should be safe, recreational poisoning is for elders and alchemists. Mostly. Don¡¯t let anyone drag you to a secondary location, doesn¡¯t matter their rank. Fang Xiao only guarantees the peace while the party is at his place. Don¡¯t clutch my thighs.¡± Sun Ming paused, realizing what she said. ¡°Unless you want to.¡± She continued, with a saucy wink. ¡°It¡¯s not really that kind of party though. But seriously, mingle, don¡¯t get bogged down, I¡¯ll be there to smash heads if you really need me, but don¡¯t stick to my side all evening.¡±

    Su Li nodded along, trying to cram all of that into her head.

    ¡°Anyway, here we are, you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Sun Ming said, half-shoving her through the open gate.

    A dozen disciples were scattered about the courtyard of the compound, gathered in groups of two and three. She didn¡¯t recognize a single face.

    ¡°Qiao Ning you saucy devil, where the hells are my death-eating lotus seeds?¡± Sun Ming shouted, chasing after an inner disciple Su Li had never met. And leaving her alone.

 Chapter 13 - Nightlife

    Su Li simply walked through the courtyard, into the open door to the house proper. Like she had a purpose in being here. It was easier, than talking to strangers.

    Su Li wasn¡¯t sure what she had expected from Fang Xiao¡¯s manor, but it definitely wasn¡¯t this. The man simply did not own furniture. Elder Hu¡¯s home was barren, but at least, he had art. Painting and prints were plastered over every wall of his own compound. And he at least was notorious for never hosting guests, so only having a single table and a pair of chairs made sense. Fang Xiao on the other hand, didn¡¯t even have the chairs. Or perhaps he did, but someone had relocated them.

    What Fang Xiao did have were weapons. Lots of weapons. Halberds decorated the walls, swords lay cast about the floor, pushed to the outer edges of the room to make room for guests without a fear in the world of theft. From the corner of her eye she could see one room that was totally empty, except for a pill furnace sitting in its center, and a few chests and tables around the edges. Another was barred by a pair of crossed glaives propped against the doorframe, and appeared empty save for a qi-gathering formation set down in the center.

    Her stomach churned, seeing the sheer gulf in wealth between her and Fang Xiao. He clearly wanted for nothing, even without a master, the sect lavished him with resources. All because he¡¯d blown through Qi Condensation in two years and barely slowed down in Foundation Establishment. What were a few spirit stones here or there when he was expected to achieve core formation in his thirties?

    A single large table dominated the foyer, laden with plates of delicious smelling food. Pan fried trout, sticky rice-flour dumplings, even a great tureen of chicken soup that smelled of ginger and spring onions. Disciples flitted about like birds, stopping by to refill their plates before rejoining their peers sitting or standing about the empty room. And a massive disciple stood beside the line table, exhorting the guests to eat his food.

    The heavens had their Kitchen God, down here on earth they had the Kitchen Tyrant, Qian Min. Was that blasphemy to think? Su Li had no idea what was and was not blasphemy any more, living amongst demons had thoroughly warped her understanding of theology. Su Li had never had much cause to interact with Qian Min, but she¡¯d seen what a terror he was in the sparring fields. Despite eschewing weapons, his sheer power left him a force to be reckoned with amongst the outer disciples. And apparently, he did catering. She knew he loved to cook, it was practically all he talked about, but she didn¡¯t think his pride would allow him to bend enough to cook for another¡¯s event.

    She supposed one did not say no if Fang Xiao asked.

    ¡°Disciple Su! Come try some soup, put some meat on those skinny bones!¡± He greeted her boisterously. She was surprised that he knew her name. He was half a dozen years, and at least three small realms her senior.

    "Thank you, Senior Qian." She said, inclining her head in a small bow. The soup did smell wonderful. She hadn¡¯t eaten all day.

    "Quite the gathering Senior Fang has put together. Be sure you get some of those dumplings too, they''re great dipped in the soup. Who needs soup dumplings when you''ve got dumplings in your soup, eh?"

    "They look excellent." She ladled some of the soup into her bowl, watching the thin strands of egg twirl about the bowl. She added a few dumplings, watching them bob in the broth like ducks in a pond. They looked like happy little dumplings. She couldn¡¯t wait to eat them.

    "I must say, I do find Senior Fang''s interior decoration passing queer!" Qian Min blithely continued. "At least Elder Hu recognized that he had failed to be a proper host, Fang Xiao seems content to make his guests sit on the floor. Why, if he had told me earlier, I¡¯m sure we outer disciples could have pooled our resources to rustle up some tables and chairs.¡±

    "I''m sure he has his reasons for preferring asceticism." Su Li demurred, hardly believing her ears. The audacity! Did he fear nothing? One did not bad mouth their seniors, in their own home, in order to¡­ make small talk? She couldn¡¯t understand his angle. Was he bold, or foolish?

    "Oh, but I¡¯m sure your day has been far more interesting than my party preparations. I hear Elder Hu has taken you under his wings.¡±

    ¡°Oh, my day had nothing to do with Elder Hu. I spent today tending to the ruby ginseng.¡±

    ¡°Ah, those little beauties! Noble work, that! I¡¯ve been trying to get my hands on some of them for ages now, I¡¯m sure they¡¯d make a wonderful addition to a spiced cider. Alas, Sun Ming is most insistent that they¡¯re all spoken for by the alchemists.¡± He paused. ¡°I should track her down and remind her that if she could scale up production just a little there¡¯s sure to be a ready market for them.¡±

    ¡°I just saw Sun Ming in the courtyard, talking with disciple Qiao Ning. Perhaps you should go seek her out now, before she starts a brawl.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I shall. It¡¯s true then, that Elder Hu is teaching you?¡±

    ¡°It is, for the moment at least. I cannot claim to know his mind.¡±

    ¡°Hah! He does seem an inscrutable one, though far more approachable than his reputation suggests. His advice for handling the meat of the sun swallowing hog was most helpful.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Su Li replied with a small nod. ¡°He is a most able teacher.¡±

    For a moment, a silence stretched between them. If she were pressed, Su Li wasn¡¯t sure if she would have said it was companionable, or awkward.

    ¡°Well, I suppose I should track down Sun Ming. Don¡¯t be a stranger, and don¡¯t hesitate to have seconds.¡± He clapped a meaty palm on her back hard enough to cause her soup to slosh dangerously. ¡°I didn¡¯t slave away all day on these dumplings for them not to be eaten!¡±

    Despite herself, Su Li found herself liking Qian Min. He¡¯d clearly wanted to press for details, but he¡¯d taken her silence in good grace.

    Before anyone else could speak with her, she cast her eyes about for an empty corner where she could pretend to be absorbed in her food. When she found one, and sat down to eat, she found she didn¡¯t need to pretend at all. There was no appreciable qi in the fare, even Fang Xiao¡¯s seemingly endless money pouch wasn¡¯t deep enough for that. But it was excellent. Spring onions and ginger lent the soup a sharp, tangy flavor that was wonderfully complemented by a dash of red pepper. The broth was filled with so much egg and shredded chicken that it was wonderfully filling, and the gently bobbing dumplings were thick and hearty, chock full of beef and carrot.

    She scarfed it down like a soldier who¡¯d been marching all day. She could count on one hand the number of times she¡¯d eaten as well as she had this week since joining the sect.

    As she got up for a second bowl, she carefully scanned the guests. Her stomach sank, as she saw the one disciple above all others she didn¡¯t want to talk to slowly drifting towards her. Geng Ru. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he navigated his way through the crowded room towards her.

    As she reached the center table, she added her bowl to the dirty stack, and kept moving. Without meeting his gaze, she slipped out through one of the side doors leading deeper into the house. She moved swiftly, trying to break Geng Ru¡¯s line of sight without giving the appearance of flight.

    She passed between rooms in various levels of occupancy, avoiding attracting the eyes of any of the disciples within. She stepped around a pile of mismatched armor pieces stacked haphazardly, and slipped through a half closed screen.

    Suddenly, she found herself before the master of the house.

    Fang Xiao sat sprawled on a couch like a prince. Apparently he did own furniture, just not enough of it to share. A cup of rice wine balanced precariously in his hand, an ornate porcelain saucer worth more than most of Su Li¡¯s possessions combined. His left hand rested upon the rump of some floozy who had thrown herself across his lap.

    Other disciples surrounded him, seated on the floor. A fitting court for a prince. Su Li recognized  a few of them. Liang Tao, and Zhao Hui of the inner sect were most prominent among them, the group split fairly evenly between inner and outer disciples. She noticed that most of the outer disciples present were female.

    Fang Xiao¡¯s eyes met hers, and he smiled.

    ¡°Ah, the lady of the hour! Come Disciple Su, join us!¡±

    It was not really an invitation. To refuse would be unthinkable. She sat down, at an open spot between Liang Tao, and one of the outer sect girls she didn¡¯t recognize.

    ¡°Disciple Su Li greets Senior Fang.¡±

    Geng Ru slipped through the same door she had behind them.

    ¡°Ah, little Geng. Come, join us as well! Never let it be said that this Fang Xiao does not open his table to his juniors!¡± Fang Xiao, clearly a little into his cups, looked down at the lack of table before him. ¡°I should get more tables, shouldn¡¯t I? Junior Brother Qian seems to have monopolized the big one.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s stomach sank.

    Geng Ru did not cut an imposing figure. He was short, and slight of build. He¡¯d joined the sect the same year Su Li had. She, and the thirty odd disciples she¡¯d joined the sect with, had spent a year living with him in the initiates dormitory. She knew for a fact he had driven two initiates to abandon the sect, and their dreams of cultivation, and suspected he¡¯d killed at least one other.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    He¡¯d been eleven years old then, during the entry trials. A scrawny boy with the eyes of a predator. Now, at fourteen, he was still small, a full head shorter than even her. But where others had struggled in the harsh environment of the sect, he had thrived.

    She was not too proud to admit to herself that he scared her.

    ¡°A drink for our new companions!¡± Fang Xiao passed the bottle he was pouring from around the circle. Apparently he lacked saucers as well.

    She could feel the qi within it, but when her turn came, she took the smallest sip she could. When the bottle got to Geng, despite his age he took a hefty swig before passing it to Fang Xiao¡¯s floozy.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s old Hu really like?¡± Fang Xiao asked bluntly.

    ¡°Fang Xiao! Have some tact!¡± Liang Tao barked. ¡°Don¡¯t just interrogate the girl!¡±

    ¡°What, we¡¯re all curious.¡± Fang Xiao stared intently at her, as if he could lift her secrets from her soul if he stared hard enough. Perhaps his talent was such that he could.

    Su Li didn¡¯t know what to say, but she had to say something. What would Elder Hu not care if she disclosed?

    ¡°Elder Hu is a patient teacher, willing to take the time to open even this untalented disciple¡¯s eyes.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. Patient you say? I certainly didn¡¯t expect that.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s certainly not as hot blooded as Elder Wang.¡± Liang Tao cut in. ¡°I think he¡¯s spent more time in the library this last week than Beastblood has in years.¡±

    There were polite titters of laughter at this. Beastblood Wang¡¯s disciples didn¡¯t exactly attend parties often.

    ¡°What¡¯s he been teaching you?¡± Fang Xiao was still staring at her with hungry eyes.

    ¡°Elder Hu¡¯s sword techniques have unfathomably deep roots. He has elected to focus on shoring up this disciple¡¯s martial foundation first.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Has he taught you anything related to the Empty Breath?¡±

    The higher variation of the Liar¡¯s Breath disciples learned to conceal their unorthodox cultivation? Su Li hadn¡¯t even begun to study it. She had stopped actively studying deception techniques, when she¡¯d transitioned from the Liar¡¯s Breath to the Lunar Refining Wheel.

    ¡°Elder Hu has never spoken to me about the traditional techniques of the sect. He has focused his lessons on martial arts and the nature of lunar qi.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s heart was racing now. Why did Fang Xiao care so much? His questions bordered on improper, prying into matters kept between a master and disciple, but she was in no position to refuse him. A disciple¡¯s role was not to make trouble for their master. Elder Hu would protect her against overt aggression, but to clutch his thighs for something so small would only waste his time.

    ¡°Enough of that, she can¡¯t tell us anything important anyway. What I want to hear are your thoughts on that lesson. Fried rice! Of all the things in this world.¡± An inner disciple said.

    ¡°Qian Min¡¯s food is just as good as his was! What does it say about him as an elder, if a mere outer disciple can match him?¡± Another chimed in.

    The disciples of Fang Xiao¡¯s court rapidly devolved into chatter and banter. Su Li was just glad the entire¡¯s group¡¯s focus was no longer on her.

    ¡°Elder Hu is wealthy enough he could probably have fed the entire outer sect spiritual rice and barely noticed the expense. I have no doubt he could prepare such ingredients as well, if he favors cooking.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we weren¡¯t worth such extravagance?¡± An outer disciple tentatively threw out.

    ¡°No, you fool, clearly it¡¯s because he wanted the lesson to be at the level of his audience! What would any outer sect disciple retain from a lesson in immortal cookery so far beyond them? Most hardly sense qi internally, let alone in an ingredient.¡±

    ¡°But why cookery? He offered that challenge, at the end of his lecture, but no matter how I turn the matter over in my head I cannot see a connection worth pursuing.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something there, but we¡¯re missing an angle. Perhaps there¡¯s a second layer to the challenge? A connection to the higher arts that only becomes apparent when taken to the level of immortal cookery?¡±

    ¡°Or the opposite.¡± The same disciple who¡¯d begun the conversation mused. ¡°Perhaps the real lesson is that all arts have their mundane foundations. What would alchemy or formations look like at the purely mortal level? If mortal cookery is the foundation of immortal cookery, are there mundane techniques that buttress the higher arts?¡±

    Su Li had nothing to offer. She¡¯d been too afraid to ask her master. The musings of the inner disciples were beyond her, she could follow their ideas, but hadn¡¯t the faintest idea of how to discern truth from falsehood.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to get anywhere here. Wisdom can spring from one head, but a dozen heads can only make decisions.¡± Liang Tao said.

    ¡°Hah! You¡¯d know all about that.¡± Fang Xiao poured himself another saucer of wine. ¡°I¡¯m sure wisdom from one head rules your days.¡±

    ¡°Are he and Li on the outs?¡± The same inner disciple who¡¯d begun the earlier conversation asked.

    Su Li studied her. She was pretty, a little taller than Su Li, with long jet black hair. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t narrow down the field much, when it came to female inner disciples. Su Li had no idea who she was from reputation alone. It was so much easier, when inner disciples and elders wore distinctive colors, instead of the sect standard.

    ¡°Li¡¯s spitting mad apparently. Doubt he does anything, Elder Hu stands almost a full realm above him, it would barely be a fight.¡±

    ¡°Hah, don¡¯t let Li Ru hear you say that.¡± Su Li filed that piece of information away. She tried to avoid Li Ru, after her disastrous apprenticeship under him.

    ¡°Elder Hu¡¯s in Nascent Soul?¡±

    ¡°At the very least. I¡¯d heard a rumor that he''d taken the Asura¡¯s Step, and that was why he was so reserved these last decades.¡± The black haired inner disciple said. ¡°But if that¡¯s true, he¡¯s clearly conquered it, by his recent behavior.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d heard he was seeking transcendence.¡±

    ¡°If Elder Hu claimed not to be a sword saint, who would dare to claim they were?¡± Liang Tao said, shaking his head.

    ¡°Aiming to become his next disciple?¡± Fang Xiao asked. ¡°Finally get out from under your mother¡¯s thumb.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a thought.¡± Liang Tao chuckled, but it was a sad noise, filled with resignation. ¡°But my mother is not Li Qiu, and not even Elder Hu would be bold enough to try to cut what she had bound together.¡±

    ¡°Are you actually his disciple then?¡± A new voice asked. A voice that sent shivers down her spine. ¡°Not just a passing project?¡±

    Geng Ru was staring right at her. She scrambled to respond, but to her shock, it was Liang Tao who answered.

    ¡°She is.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s heart jumped. She didn¡¯t believe it. It didn¡¯t make any sense. How could Elder Hu have such faith in her already?

    "Heard that from your mother too?¡± Fang Xiao asked.

    "From the man himself actually. Envy is a poor color on a man so privileged. If you want a master, pick one, otherwise stop complaining." Liang Tao shot back.

    "Is that how you see it?"

    ¡°That¡¯s how it is. Connections don¡¯t come free.¡±

    ¡°And my independence did?¡±

    "Boys. Do I need to come over there?" Sun Ming¡¯s voice echoed out from the next room over.

    Liang Tao and Fang Xiao were still staring at each other. Liang Tao¡¯s hand twitched.

    ¡°Oh, are we moving into that phase of the evening?¡± Fang Xiao asked, with a smile.

    ¡°I do believe we are.¡± Liang Tao said, rising.

    ¡°Very well then. To the courtyard!¡± Fang Xiao shouted, raising his saucer of wine high. He downed the rest of the bowl, before rising as well.

    The rest of the disciples followed. Su Li joined the steadily growing exodus moving towards the courtyard. The press of the crowd made it easy to distance herself from Geng Ru. Her fellow disciples chattered happily, at the thought of the coming bloodshed.

    ¡°Bold of Liang Tao, thinking this time will end any differently.¡±

    ¡°Finally! I¡¯d begun to despair that this party would ever get interesting. I swear, you lot gossip like a bunch of grandmothers.¡±

    ¡°Two taels of silver on Liang Tao.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll match that at even odds, and put up a further three on our host, if anyone cares to match.¡±

    ¡°I can go in for five.¡± The same disciple who¡¯d offered the bet originally replied.

    ¡°Is round two set yet?¡±

    Bets were set and drinks were refilled as the crowd of disciples moved outside. The courtyard was packed now, save for an empty space in the center. Outer disciples pressed themselves against the walls of the estate, many trying to stand on ornamental rocks to get a good view, but not be too close to the action. The inner disciples by contrast lazed about. One trio, perched by a koi pond located dangerously close to the impromptu arena, didn''t even bother to move as the duelists began setting up.

    ¡°Liang Tao, if you blow our dumplings in the water, I¡¯m going to drown you.¡± One of them shouted.

    The two men faced each other, in the center of the yard. They¡¯d armed themselves, Fang Xiao taking up an unadorned sword, and Liang Tao carrying a spear with a curving head that reminded Su Li of a bird¡¯s talon.

    ¡°You put in any bets?¡± Su Li jumped. Somehow, Sun Ming was standing behind her. For such a loud woman, she could be very quiet when she wanted to be.

    ¡°Of course not, I don¡¯t have the money for such frivolities.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only a frivolity if you lose. If you win, it¡¯s an investment. I¡¯ve got three taels on Liang, he wouldn¡¯t be this mouthy without a new edge, and Fang Xiao is drunk. Easiest money of my life.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s fingers clenched into fists. A tael was worth almost five hundred cash. That was six months of the cash portion of her pay, riding on one fight.

    The two men separated, walking to opposite ends of the arena, seemingly satisfied with the terms. Liang Tao raised his spear, and a haze began to gather at its point, a gentle distortion like small ripples in the air.

    Fang Xiao stood relaxed, stance open, sword resting by his side.

    ¡°What¡¯s the record now between us junior brother Liang? Six wins for me, one for you?¡± Fang Xiao said, lazily rolling his neck. ¡°It seems you learn best through repetition, please allow this senior to beat the lesson into you.¡±

    ¡°How long has it been, since you forged a new pillar?¡± Liang Tao retorted. ¡°Cultivation is a marathon, not a sprint. It¡¯s a shame you can¡¯t seem to find your second wind.¡±

    With a crack of thunder, Fang Xiao moved.

 Chapter 14 - Bloodshed

    Drunk or not, Fang Xiao was a monster with a sword.

    One moment, he was standing at the opposite end of the clearing from his opponent, his relaxed stance about as unthreatening as it¡¯s possible a man to be whilst bearing steel. Then lightning struck. Not from above, Sectmaster Meng rarely tolerated any of Heaven¡¯s influence in his domain. Rather, Fang Xiao¡¯s lunge cut across the clearing like lightning through a summer storm.

    When the flash cleared, and her eyes recovered, Su Li saw that Fang Xiao had missed. He stood like a statue, legs still locked in the final phase of his lunge, sword extended. But its point rested several inches to the side of Liang Tao¡¯s waist. Liang Tao¡¯s spear hadn¡¯t moved from the low guard he¡¯d begun the duel in.

    Was it a show of dominance, a tacit statement he could have ended the duel in a single exchange? Had Liang Tao dodged? He must have. A subtle lean to the side perhaps. But Su Li¡¯s lying eyes insisted that somehow, Fang Xiao¡¯s lightning-fueled lunge had missed.

    Fang Xiao¡¯s smile grew one size wider, teeth bared now. Once more, he moved.

    His sword danced like lightning, moving from one position to the next in a single blinding instant, crashing down on Liang Tao¡¯s guard like thunder. This time, spear met sword with an impact that left Su Li blind and deaf. Gale winds roared outwards, sending robes whipping about and casting dirt in the eyes of disciples.

    ¡°My dumplings!¡± The inner disciple by the koi pond cried out, real pain in her voice. Su Li felt for her, Qian Min¡¯s dumplings truly had been excellent. ¡°Fang Xiao, kill that bastard!¡±

    Lightning crackled at the edge of Fang Xiao¡¯s blade as he battered against Liang Tao¡¯s guard. First one strike, then three, the sheer weight of the impacts forcing Liang Tao to give ground freely, or be knocked clean off his feet. Eventually, after six or seven thundering blows, Fang Xiao¡¯s blitz expended itself, and the momentum of the fight shifted. Liang Tao quickly countered, jabbing out with quick, controlled thrusts at Fang Xiao¡¯s chest that forced him to perform full parries to deflect. But just as it looked like the fight was shifting, Fang Xiao moved like lightning again, this time to the outside of the ring.

    And he simply stood there, two dozen feet away, and caught his breath.

    As extraordinary as the spectacle was, the pace of it rapidly became repetitive. Fang Xiao charged in, struck a dozen times, then zipped back out and took a few moments to recover his qi. Liang Tao did his best to counterattack towards the end of the exchange, but never managed to break Fang Xiao¡¯s guard. While the two were separated, Liang Tao always kept pressing forward at a steady pace, forcing Fang Xiao to occasionally perform a second zip across the field before renewing his assault.

    It wasn¡¯t enough.

    It was apparent that even blocking every attack, the weight of the blows was wearing Liang Tao down. The heavy strikes left the shaft of his spear looking like some beast had chewed it up, and the lightning they were infused with left small burns all across his blue and white robes. Su Li couldn¡¯t imagine how he was still standing, after all that lightning pouring through his flesh.

    Liang Tao clearly saw the inevitable outcome too. As Fang Xiao retreated for yet another short rest, instead of following, he braced himself. His hands slid down the shaft of the spear, giving him more length to play with. He lined the head of it up with Fang Xiao¡¯s chest, slowly tracking his opponent as Fang Xiao circled around him.

    ¡°One strike to settle it all?¡± Fang Xiao said with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯ll never turn down such a wager.¡±

    Liang Tao didn¡¯t reply, his spear simply drifted along, following its target.

    Fang Xiao held his sword out to the sky, and true thunder rumbled in the black clouds above.

    The world flashed white as a bolt of true lightning as thick as a man¡¯s waist fell from the heavens, drawn inexorably to the point of Fang Xiao¡¯s sword. He staggered as it connected, as raging lightning enveloped his entire body. Under the influence of lightning, his hair began rising of its own accord, turning his carefully styled hairdo into a wild mane. Small tongues of lightning leapt out, scorching the grass around him.

    Liang Tao¡¯s gathering power was comparatively understated. The shimmer at the head of his spear had widened, engulfing the entire weapon in a haze that made it difficult to track. Leaves flitted around his feet like birds, given motion and life by unnatural winds.

    The two men faced each other, each one half of a storm made flesh. Wind and lightning bent to mortal will, the very clay of creation fashioned into weapons to resolve their petty grievances. Su Li coveted their power. It felt so close, like she could just reach out and take it, if only she could see what they saw, learn the secrets that let them bend nature to their will. It wasn¡¯t like Elder Hu¡¯s effortless command of the world, so far beyond her she couldn¡¯t hope to comprehend it, she could almost see the flows of their qi, the active manipulations that shaped the elements.

    Then Fang Xiao moved, and Su Li saw nothing more. White light seared her eyes blind, even as the crash of thunder deafened her. Wind roared across the courtyard, nothing compared to Elder Hu¡¯s stormbreaker in scope, but almost equal to it in intensity within the walls of the courtyard. It felt like a storm had descended to earth in truth. She peeked out through the hands covering her eyes, trying to catch the end of the exchange.

    When the pressure of the wind finally abated, and her flash blindness faded, it was over.

    ¡°Well. Fuck.¡± Fang Xiao said, staring down at his wounds. A great slash had opened his chest from shoulder to hip, but despite its length, the wound was shallow. It was the spear still embedded in his chest that marked Liang Tao as the victor. ¡°I yield.¡±

    Victor or no, Liang Tao didn¡¯t look much better than his opponent. The right sleeve of his robe was simply gone, obliterated by the force of their clash. The pale flesh of his right arm was covered with the telltale burns of lightning, treelike shapes wrought in red and purple where the lightning had passed through him.

    Slowly, Liang Tao pulled the head of the spear from Fang Xiao¡¯s lung, and then collapsed into a puddle of limbs on the floor. Almost absentmindedly, Fang Xiao pinched the great wound in his chest closed with one hand, as he fiddled with a storage ring with the other.

    ¡°Good duel. That wouldn¡¯t have worked if I was sober though.¡± Fang Xiao withdrew a pill from his ring, and popped it back. ¡°Still, at least you¡¯re making an effort to keep up. It¡¯d be a shame if I had to find a new rival before even reaching core formation.¡±

    After a moment¡¯s thought, Fang Xiao withdrew a second pill from his ring, then threw the fat little black pill at his fallen opponent¡¯s head. It bounced off Liang Tao¡¯s face, before landing in the dirt. The scent of medicinal herbs filled the courtyard. Slowly, Liang Tao¡¯s uninjured arm pawed about, trying to find the pill with the least possible motion.

    ¡°And where the hell do you think you¡¯re going, Qiao Ning!¡± Sun Ming shouted, shattering the silence that had fallen across the courtyard. ¡°You owe me three taels of silver!¡±

    The tall inner disciple that had been slipping away hung his head, as Sun Ming marched over to collect.

    ¡°I¡¯m rich! Pay up suckers!¡± One outer disciple shouted. Su Li wondered if he¡¯d wake up without his coin pouch tomorrow. Sun Ming could easily protect her winnings. Could he?

    ¡°What happened at the end there? I couldn¡¯t even see their blows.¡± An outer disciple asked.

    ¡°Liang Tao baited him. He had more strength left than Fang Xiao thought, and forced his strike off course with a blast of intense wind. Fang Xiao couldn¡¯t recover from his overcommitment fast enough to win the following exchange.¡± One of the inner disciples who¡¯d been lounging by the pond answered. Not the girl who lost her dumplings. She was staring intently at the barely mobile body of Liang Tao, as if weighing whether or not it was worse following through on her threat.

    ¡°You could follow that? He was so fast!¡±

    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s quick, sure. But both of those brats are on the younger side for inner disciples. Foundation establishment is no short road, if you walk it to its end, you¡¯ll find a new understanding of the limits of the human body.¡±

    ¡°Is that really a loss? Liang Tao could barely move, and Fang Xiao just walked off getting run through the chest?¡±

    ¡°Fang Xiao might be fast, but Liang Tao¡¯s strikes are far more lethal.¡± The same disciple patiently explained. ¡°If he¡¯d imbued that stab with a technique, he could have destroyed Fang Xiao¡¯s chest. Cheating someone of an earned win like that today is a great way to die in a duel tomorrow.¡±

    Su Li tuned out the gossiping disciples, instead opting to watch Fang Xiao recover. He¡¯d taken a seat on a stump as he cycled his qi, still holding the hole in his chest closed with one hand. Blood slowly seeped out from around his fingers, staining even his black robes. Su Li wondered, just how far into foundation establishment he was, that he could simply ignore a hole that undoubtedly extended into his lung. The rise and fall of his chest was shallow, but he didn¡¯t seem to be in any pain, indeed the flow of blood was already slowing, as the pill closed the wound before her eyes. How many taels of silver was such a thing worth? Ten? A hundred? He¡¯d used two of them on a whim, each was probably worth as much as the entire betting pool. He was but four years her senior, without the backing of family, or even the teachings of an elder, and he spent sums on a whim she couldn¡¯t even fathom.

    She wasn¡¯t sure if she envied him, or hated him, for climbing so far beyond her without relying on the senior generation¡¯s largesse.

    ¡°So, who¡¯s next?¡± The inner disciple who¡¯d explained the final exchange of the fight asked.

    ¡°I want to see the fatty fight!¡± Her friend who¡¯d lost her dumplings chimed in. ¡°Let¡¯s see if his hands are good for more than just cooking.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t. He¡¯s strong for his realm, but has the worst technique I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± Li Ru said from a corner. Su Li shivered, at the memory of her lessons with him. She¡¯d made an absolute fool of herself, and Li Ru had not neither patience nor mercy for fools. She still remembered how he¡¯d calmly told her that she had no future with his master, and if he had the authority, she would have had no future in the sect either. His voice had been utterly without emotion, the exact same tone he used to order dinner, when shifts at Elder Li¡¯s workshop ran late into the night. She¡¯d cried, despite herself. Hot tears had poured down her cheeks, as she stood at attention, listening to him enumerate her countless failings. Li Ru hadn¡¯t bothered to call attention to them, not even to mock her lack of self control. Somehow, that had felt even worse.

    ¡°I have a name.¡± Qian Min calmly cut in.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°I¡¯ll remember it when you prove yourself worthy of remembering.¡±

    ¡°Qian Min. You¡¯ll remember it if you want to eat my cooking.¡±

    ¡°Win a duel, and then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Qian Min said, turning to walk away. ¡°Avoid my table in the future, you are unwelcome at it.¡±

    ¡°Such disrespect for his seniors. So little power to back it. It¡¯s a wonder nobody has cut down that unruly shoot yet.¡±

    ¡°Xin Hui, If you spend all your time chastising fools, you¡¯ll never have time to get any actual cultivation done.¡± Li Ru said reasonably.

    ¡°Oh, piss off.¡± Dumpling girl, Xin Hui, replied. ¡°I liked his cooking. It¡¯d be a pity, if he were to get himself cut down in the future. I might have to insist on offering him some pointers after this is all over.¡±

    ¡°Another inner disciple match then? If the outer sect is too scared to step up.¡±

    ¡°This one challenges disciple Su Li.¡±

    Su Li froze. That voice. Young and high pitched, but so utterly self assured. He was standing behind her.

    "There we go. At least one member of the junior generation understands the assignment."

    She didn''t know what to say. How to decline. She had no injury to excuse her, no pressing obligation she could hide behind.

    "I didn''t bring my sword." She finally said lamely.

    Fang Xiao looked over from the stump he¡¯d claimed.

    ¡°You cultivate some yin aspected path, right? Lunar or cold? I have an appropriate training sword somewhere, cold worked iron, relatively blunt edge, lesser durability formation.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! Truly, our senior is a most able host.¡± Geng Ru said with a cherubic smile. ¡°I brought my own tonfa. A friendly bout, no strikes that would be lethal to receive at our level of cultivation. The duel will continue until surrender or unconsciousness? Are those terms acceptable to you, Disciple Su?¡±

    Su Li¡¯s heart was in her throat, her mind cast about desperately for any excuse, any escape.

    ¡°Really? You¡¯re scared of a boy half your age in your own realm?¡± Li Ru said, finally noticing her. ¡°No surprise, that the student is like the master. A coward and a fool. He must have seen a kindred spirit in you.¡±

    He dared! Her blood boiled, It was one thing, to insult her. She had not earned honor. But for Li Ru to spout such filth about Elder Hu was beyond unacceptable. She felt her fear fall away, and a heady joy gripped her. So what, if Geng Ru was a monster? He couldn¡¯t kill her here. None of them could, not in the bounds of the sect, not without provoking Elder Hu¡¯s wrath. The worst they could do was hurt her, and she did not fear pain.

    If they wanted a fight so badly, she would give them one.

    ¡°I am aware, that I am no great talent like Fang Xiao or Elder Hu.¡± Su Li finally said. ¡°But Elder Hu elected to teach me all the same. I am very lucky that you dismissed me from your tutelage. You always were a terrible teacher, more concerned with belittling your students, than correcting them.¡±

    ¡°You dare¨C¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± Su Li said, cutting him off. This was foolish. A week ago, it would have been suicidal. She didn¡¯t care. ¡°Don¡¯t spout lies about your betters, if you don¡¯t want your own failings revealed. Geng Ru, I accept your challenge.¡±

    Li Ru started to respond, but the shouts of the crowd drowned him out.

    ¡°Damn, with balls like those she should have been born a man.¡±

    ¡°Two taels on Su Li!¡±

    ¡°Matched!¡±

    ¡°Really, we¡¯re wagering silver on outer disciples now? How low the sect has fallen.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if Elder Hu¡¯s teachings are worth anything.¡±

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t he been teaching her for all of a week? How much could she have possibly improved?¡±

    ¡°Shush, don¡¯t let your logic get in the way of my narrative.¡±

    Su Li watched as preparations for the duel proceeded without any need for her to act. The field was swept clear of the debris Liang Tao had kicked up. Disciples made bets and refilled cups. A trio of disciples gently carried the still recovering Liang Tao out of the way, placing him next to Fang Xiao¡¯s stump.

    A sword was placed in her hands. It was a nice weapon. Not a spiritual one, but one clearly made by someone familiar with qi interactions. Iron, as Fang Xiao had claimed, her qi pushed into it without any of the customary resistance she felt using standard swords more suitable for yang arts. Her father¡¯s sword was better made and more powerful by far, but this one was even more compatible with the arts she studied. Of course Fang Xiao had a qi gathering grade weapon intended for yin arts just lying around. Why wouldn¡¯t he? He¡¯d probably bought it on a whim and never touched it, considering his techniques centered around lightning.

    She stared at Geng Ru, standing across the clearing from her. He was so short, she was not a tall woman, but he barely came up to her nose. She wondered, what sort of childhood he¡¯d had, to grow up so capable of killing. He moved through a warm up kata, spinning his tonfas about with the careless joy of a more innocent child. She made careful note of his range, the length of his steps. They were curious weapons tonfa, the strange bastard children of gauntlets and quarterstaves. His were unadorned, strips of dense black wood the length of his forearms, with handles polished by long use.

    The moon shone high overhead, now fully into the first quarter. She cycled her qi, drawing the light of the moon into herself, to replace what she¡¯d invested in her sword. It was easier now, than it had ever been before. With a few words, Elder Hu had opened her eyes to what the moon had been trying in vain to show her for months.

    She gave the sword a few swings, feeling its weight and balance. It was lighter than she expected. A gentle wind blew through the clearing, dry and unseasonably warm. The crowd quieted, and Geng Ru stilled. She was afraid, terribly afraid. But there was a peace to it, to knowing that all she had to do was fight, and the rest would sort itself out.

    ¡°This small disciple looks forward to exchanging pointers with you.¡± Geng Ru said with a smile.

    Su Li nodded. There was nothing more to say.

    ¡°At your convenience.¡± Geng Ru continued.

    Fang Xiao and Liang Tao¡¯s match had begun with lightning. Outer disciples couldn¡¯t match that spectacle. Su Li didn¡¯t try. Slowly, she stepped towards Geng Ru, sword at her side.

    A dozen paces.

    Five paces.

    Finally, Geng Ru moved. Tonfas rose up, and he stepped forwards. Her sword matched him, held forward in a probing guard that prevented him from advancing lest he impale himself. He circled around her, just at the edge of the distance she might reach with a lunging thrust, daring her to strike at him.

    Su Li took up the wager. She stepped forward, throwing out a rising chop. A tonfa-clad arm swung outwards, parrying the blow as he stepped in. She danced back, giving ground freely, her longer legs forcing him to rush just to keep up. It was so easy to rain down blow after blow, forcing him to step to her rhythm. Lunar qi suffused her blade, with every strike it felt lighter, more ethereal. But no less deadly.

    Geng Ru kept his tonfas high, weathering her assault with precise blocks. But despite his flawless defense, he was no closer to her than he¡¯d begun.

    The next few exchanges proceeded in the same way, Geng Ru struggling to close against her superior range. His blocks were flawless, but Su Li¡¯s spirits rose all the same. It would only take a single miss to earn her a decisive advantage. Her body moved in accord with her will, her limbs felt as weightless as her sword. Let him advance, she was untouchable.

    And then she felt a hand on her back, shoving her forward. Despite her best efforts, she¡¯d stepped too close to the edge of the circle. Sensing his advantage, Geng Ru stepped forward, right tonfa braced for a tackle, left rising to ward off her sword.

    Su Li punched him in the face with her off-hand. She followed through with her shoulder, driving with her whole body like Elder Hu had taught her to. The overhand punch, he¡¯d called it. Her fist ground into his face with a satisfying crunch. Geng Ru stumbled back, nose bleeding freely.

    She felt good. Was this it? Was this all he was capable of?

    Lunar qi surged and she gave a gentle flick of her sword. A crescent of light glided across the clearing, forcing Geng Ru into a diving roll of a dodge. She didn¡¯t let up, throwing a second blade, then a third. A desperate scramble took Geng Ru clear of the second, but his feet were in no position to dodge the third.

    The blade of lunar qi crashed into his guarding tonfa with scarcely a whisper of noise. The crossed tonfas dissipated the core of the strike, but its edges kept moving, heedless of the limits of physical blades, cutting into his shoulders.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re not bad, for the middle of qi condensation.¡± Geng Ru said, his face a perfect mask of childlike innocence. His robes bunched at his shoulders, stuck fast by the slowly spreading bloodstains, darker spots on the black of his robes. ¡°But you¡¯re not good, either. Let me show you what you¡¯re missing.¡±

    Geng Ru lifted his tonfa, holding them before him at an angle, in the shape of a mountain. He cycled his qi and an aura rose around him, a sense of loss, and desolation. It reminded Su Li of how Hangzhou had felt, after she¡¯d gotten the news.

    ¡°Demon Dance: Earth¡±

    Geng Ru rushed towards her again, but this time, he didn¡¯t bother to raise his tonfas into a guard. She stepped back, as her sword descended in a diagonal slash intended to force him to break off his charge. Geng Ru dodged, throwing himself to the side, then somehow regained his footing as his waist dipped lower still, and advanced forward beneath her guard. He was so close she couldn¡¯t see the footwork that made it possible. A tonfa flipped over in his hand, extending like a talon. He spun, and the extended length slammed into the side of her lead knee.

    Pain shot through her, as her leg collapsed. She caught herself with a hand, keeping her sword raised in a pathetic semblance of a guard.

    Geng Ru raised both his tonfa into a middle guard, holding them horizontally across his chest, then shoved her with them.

    She fell backwards, then rolled, trying to bleed off momentum. Her injured knee screamed as she rolled over it. She scrambled desperately to recover her footing, but Geng Ru didn¡¯t give her the space to stand up.

    Patiently, steadily, he advanced. She threw out an attack, trying desperately to buy a moment to recover. He dodged it easily, then stepped in again, closing the gap like a bug skittering across the water. A tonfa spun out, clipping her lead hand and sending her sword flying.

    She lashed out, fist aiming for his face. She felt it connect, but then the unyielding wood of a tonfa crashed into her head. She fell back, reeling.

    Su Li dove for her lost sword, but Geng Ru was right behind her. Panicked, she threw out a hand to hold him back. Fingers met wood. The fingers lost. First, she felt nothing, only the momentum of the blow sending her arm flying back. Then the pain hit. It hurt so much.

    She struggled upward, broken fingers clutched to her chest. As she rose, a slipper slammed into her face. She saw white as she spun once more, landing face down in the dirt.

    Her teeth felt wrong. Like they were too loose in her mouth. She swallowed, and it tasted like blood. Her lips felt numb, too soft, too sensitive against her teeth. Her face was wet, and the dirt stuck fast to it, quickly becoming bloody mud. Slowly she raised her good hand, to wipe her tears away, only to shudder back from a jolt of pain as she realized the water was not tears, but yet more blood, flowing freely from her nose.

    She struggled to rise, but her leg collapsed beneath her with a flash of white-hot pain. She fell, and in so doing put weight on her right hand. Her fingers bent wrong. They screamed at her, blotting out everything else. Despite her injuries, she moved again on reflex, pulling her hand close, anything to protect her broken fingers.

    Her face pressed up against the ground, too many things hurt to move it away. She could taste dirt, even through the blood. Her lips were too swollen to close properly.

    She did not rise again. Her world was pain, time was meaningless. It all hurt so much. She just wanted it to stop. To sleep. But she couldn¡¯t, everything was loud and bright and she wasn¡¯t safe.

    Geng Ru stood over her. His hand raised. She flinched away ineffectively. Only a moment later, did she realize it wasn¡¯t about to hit her.

    Geng Ru said something. ¡°-movement art.¡± She didn¡¯t understand him. ¡°-lot of work ahead of him.¡± Another voice said.

    He stood over her a moment longer. Then he left. She breathed in. It hurt. She kept breathing. It kept hurting.

    Warm hands lifted her up. Su Li was limp as a newborn kitten in their grasp. Impossible strength supported her, warm arms propping her up above the hateful dirt. Somehow, impossibly, the strong arms around her didn¡¯t press into anything broken.

    "Oh little blossom, that was foolish. Brave, but foolish." Sun Ming quietly said. ¡°Let¡¯s get you home.¡±

 Chapter 15 - Sleepless

    I couldn¡¯t sleep. It was a strange experience. I¡¯d had temporary difficulty falling asleep before, everyone experienced that at least once in their lives. But never once in my previous life had I stayed awake for three straight days, laid down, and after two hours of staring at the ceiling, been forced to conclude that it just wasn¡¯t happening tonight.

    I knew it wasn¡¯t impossible, that my cultivation hadn¡¯t removed the need for sleep entirely. I¡¯d woken up in this body initially, and I¡¯d slept after my long binge-reading session. Perhaps I was just too rested? Maybe I¡¯d used up my sleep quota for the next month in a week? Or perhaps it was the lack of a blanket. Elder Hu¡¯s home was beyond sparse, and despite an exhaustive search of both his two shelving units and his storage ring, I hadn¡¯t found a single blanket, or even a sheet. It just wasn¡¯t the same, laying on a thin straw mat with a spare robe awkwardly piled on top of my chest. I felt like a corpse awaiting burial, covered with whatever was at hand.

    I sat up. It was disconcerting, being so unmoored from the demands of biology. Normally, when I awoke in the middle of the night, I would drink some water. Perhaps scarf down a granola bar, or take a piss. Now, there was nothing. I¡¯d eaten, with Su Li, and during my taste testing for the rice, but I hadn¡¯t felt anything I would call true hunger since awakening as Elder Hu. Thirst was even stranger. A constant companion in my last life, I¡¯d always had a mug of tea, or thermos filled with ice-water sitting by my desk as I worked. Now there was nothing. No urge, no pull towards it. The closest I¡¯d felt to thirst since waking up had been after eating that oatcake, when I¡¯d felt like it would be nice to have something to wash the last clinging bits of dense cake off my molars. Then I¡¯d discovered that even my tongue was improved by cultivation, now strong and dextrous enough to simply reach the very back of my molars, and press hard enough to wipe away even the most stubborn of food residue. Elder Liang¡¯s tea had been nice, but I¡¯d drunk it because it tasted good, not because it offered anything my body needed.

    While I was panicking, it had been easier. I¡¯d blindly jumped from one interaction to the next, stumbled along trying to understand my surroundings. Planning lessons, mapping out conversations, reading random scrolls for context, it had made an excellent distraction. Now, with no lecture hanging over my head, and a full two days before my next scheduled meeting with Su Li, the strangeness of my new body was hitting me in full. If I had nothing to do, then I was stuck sitting with nothing except my thoughts to distract me.

    I could see now, how cultivators forgot how to be normal human beings. It was so easy, without all the small distractions of mortality, to let your latest obsession consume you. It would be so easy to work for a week straight. To regard anything that interrupted that focused existence as a distraction. To remove such distractions with violence.

    I needed to find something to do. A full night of this listless existence would be¡­ Not hell exactly, but not pleasant either. I could try to meditate, I¡¯d occasionally practiced before, in my life that was. But I¡¯d usually kept my sessions under twenty minutes. Almost always under an hour, except rare occasions where I used it as a substitute for sleep that would not come. I wouldn¡¯t have said I was good at it, or even certain I was doing it correctly. I thought I might have experienced the first Jhana once, but that could just have been sleep deprivation, I was pretty jet lagged during that session.

    And I was afraid. I knew cultivation as an act was adjacent to meditation. I knew that qi deviation was a risk, if you did it wrong. Cultivating was something new to me, something I didn¡¯t understand beyond the most superficial level, with life or death consequences. I was quite simply afraid to poke at mine, to spin it backwards and start oozing blood out my ears or something. I¡¯d have to overcome that eventually. It was one of my most potent advantages in this strange new world, and to allow it to stagnate forever would be idiotic. But I wasn¡¯t going to advance a realm in short order, I was already in or past core formation. So it seemed like something I could leave alone for the moment.

    My reputation here was founded upon personal power. My ability to kill things was apparently the source of my value to the sect. I couldn¡¯t do that any more, not at the level Elder Hu had. One day soon, I would need to throw myself into battle, hopefully against an opponent far beneath me. I needed to know where my limits lay, how much weaker than Elder Hu I was. Because if I was called upon by the sectmaster to do Elder Hu¡¯s job, I needed to know whether running was my only option.

    But until I found a foundation establishment spiritual beast I could use as a disposable benchmark, I was stuck on that front. Su Li couldn¡¯t tell my skill from his, but I couldn¡¯t risk sparring with my peers. Even an inner disciple might see through my facade, if they used a sword.

    I couldn¡¯t do anything to advance my own cultivation. But Su Li¡¯s, that was another matter. A reputation as a teacher who could help their students leap over the dragon gate was valuable, but someone I could actually trust being powerful enough to matter was priceless.

    As sparse as my cultivation knowledge was, I¡¯d gleaned a fair bit about the mechanics of the very earliest realms from my reading in the repository. Qi Gathering, or Qi Condensation, the names seemed to be used interchangeably, was the process of ingesting qi, cycling it, and turning it into innate or true qi. Scrolls disagreed on how many stages the realm had, some claiming as few as three, others as many as twelve. They all measured progress the same way, by the quantity and density of innate qi the disciple commanded, but some of them simplified the realms into broad categories like ¡®wisp, gas, and liquid¡¯, while others, specified incredibly specific substages based on how the gaseous qi reacted to being cycled in certain ways. The latter manuals rather reminded me of recipes for hard candy, with and how they specified things like the ¡®hard ball¡¯ and ¡®soft crack¡¯ stages of molten sugar in terms of its behavior when dropped in water.

    Despite all the differences though, the process described was the same. Get a little bit of qi inside your body. Move it in a way that resonated with the natural world, and the qi it produced. Draw in said natural qi. Spin it around in their chest or stomach until it lost whatever made it ¡®lunar¡¯ or ¡®wooden¡¯, and instead became aspected to the cultivator themselves, a process that often took hundreds of rotations through the body before the new qi settled in the dantian. Then repeat ad-infinitum, until they reached the next density threshold. This small nugget of true qi would eventually both begin changing and improving the cultivators body, and allow them to command larger and larger amounts of natural qi. The result of this convoluted process, was that even though the majority of Qi Condensation manuals focused on cultivating aspected qi, almost all of them resulted in the cultivator accumulating neutral true qi.

    I still wasn¡¯t clear exactly how spirit stones worked, but from the sheer number of warnings in various manuals about how inefficient and potentially dangerous it was to rely solely on them, I wasn¡¯t planning on trying to feed them to Su Li in large numbers. Plus, I suspected the several hundred stones in Elder Hu¡¯s ring represented a dangerously large portion of his total liquid wealth.

    If I truly wanted to rocket her progress upwards, I needed some combination of a place rich in lunar qi, an object containing a great deal of crystalized lunar qi, or a formation designed to trap and accumulate lunar qi. The first, would likely require me to negotiate with people, at least within the sect. I doubted any natural fonts of lunar qi within the sect itself were unclaimed, and if any belonged to me, I wasn¡¯t aware of them. But the second and third, I could at least in theory purchase.

    How hard could it be, for a wealthy powerhouse like me to find a suitable lunar treasure for someone in Qi Condensation? It felt like tempting fate, just asking that question. But it was a plan. Vague, and lacking in details, but something I could pursue. And any forward momentum was better than sitting here in the dark, alone with my thoughts.

    I rose, and belted on my sword. Then I walked out of my house, there were no other preparations to make, I slept with my storage ring on. It felt strange, going on a trip without worrying about car keys, or phone chargers, or where and what I would eat. It was convenient, but it didn¡¯t help with my creeping sense of being unmoored from mortal life.

    I had two days. For a mortal, that wasn''t a lot for a trip. 30 hours of wakeful activity, most of it would be taken up by travel. For a powerful cultivator, so many of the things that constrained a mortal''s time meant nothing. I could easily run at 30 miles an hour, I could probably do it indefinitely. I didn''t need to sleep, or stop for meals, that left me a full twenty hours to run each way. That meant I could visit anywhere within a 600 mile range, spend several hours there, and return with time to spare. And that was a conservative estimate of my running speed, what I knew I could keep up.

    A 600 mile radius circle covered what, a third of the continental US? Here, that probably meant an entire kingdom. I could leave the sect, disguise myself as a wandering cultivator, and find or buy what I needed without having to interact with anyone who would know me. And if I was lucky, I might even find some aggressive lesser spirit beasts to cull along the way.

    But first, I needed a map. I had no idea where the sect was located, or where the nearest real population center was. And that meant my journey started with a trip down the mountain.

    I crossed the first plaza at a sedate pace for a cultivator, a fast walk that would have been a full-on jog for a mortal. Disciples hung about in small crowds, especially around the paper-covered pillars I suspected were some sort of mission bulletin boards. A hundred eyes followed me, but not a single pair of feet approached me. I''d been a little worried, after that lecture, that I''d made myself too approachable, but it seemed that between my public feud with Elder Li and my stunt with the chicken I was still safe from needing to engage in small talk with disciples.

    Once I left the plaza, I let loose, launching into a full-on jog down the mountainside. My hair, restrained only by a thin strip of leather, fluttered wildly behind me as I flew down the slope. My feet navigated between rocks and logs with effortless grace, as I danced between trees and over boulders. As the slope steepened, I started spending more and more time in the air, propelled as much by gravity as my own muscles. It was glorious, I fell twenty feet downwards, landed on a single foot, and to my cultivation-enhanced ankles, my bodyweight might as well have been a feather. With a single flex of my foot, I rocketed off into the air again, flying down the mountainside.

    It took all I had, not to burst into wild laughter. It just felt so good, to run unbound by the limits of mortal flesh, steady and untiring as a machine. It brought to mind a random bit of trivia from cyberpunk, the idea that it was partially the very power and efficacy of cybernetic limbs that slowly ate away at people''s humanity. Being free from human frailty made it harder to emphasize with those that still suffered it. Easy to feel superior, to feel other.

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    Were most cultivators basically just spiritual cyberpsychos? Addicts to the process of our own growing transhumanism? It seemed like a gross oversimplification, even ignoring how cyberpunk as a setting played fast and loose with biology and psychology alike. But the idea struck me as something with a core of truth to it, something to toss around on sleepless nights like these.

    I would, I think, all things considered, prefer not to slowly grow into a monster.

    It took a bit over a quarter of an hour to reach the base of the mountain the first plaza rested on. For an outer disciple, or a mortal, that climb could easily have been the better part of a day, especially going upwards. I still wasn¡¯t completely clear on the geography of the sect, beyond everything on that being part of the grounds, and the little town I was heading towards being one of the gates that connected it with the outside world.

    They called the little town Dusk. Because it was the edge of the Night. Everyone here pronounced that word with the metaphorical capital letter, when talking about the environs of the sect. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what that meant, considering we still had daytime here, even if the sun was perhaps a little less bright than it should have been. Clearly, there was more to it than just a little dimness, considering our sect was named for the phenomena.

    In times like these, it was very convenient that the sect was half-nocturnal. It must have been two in the morning, but as I approached the town, it was a veritable hive of activity.

    It cut a cozy sight, even from a distance. Most of the buildings were small compared to those in the sect proper, the highest a mere three stories, a full story shorter than Elder Liang¡¯s monster of a compound, and not even half the eight stories of the repository. Despite being the only structure for miles around, the buildings were clustered close together, almost like people huddling for warmth. The flickering orange light of oil lamps seeped out from every open door, illuminating the narrow alleyways between the structures. Mortals and disciples alike scuttled between buildings like ants, haggling, carousing, and working. It reminded me a little of the night markets of Florence, even if all the outward trappings were different. It had the same vibe of congenial harmony atop a ruthlessly commercial undertow. Just replace tourists with disciples, kitschy knick-knacks with petty luxuries. I had no doubt the mortal merchants here were doing very well for themselves.

    I liked it quite a lot. It felt familiar, and far more homey than the ascetic quiet of the sect itself.

    Slowing to a sedate walk, I entered the town. There was no wall, no checkpoints or guards. You could just stroll in. I imagine there was probably a single inner disciple lurking somewhere, tasked with overseeing security for the whole place. I kept to the shadows between buildings as much as I could, a halfhearted attempt at avoiding recognition.

    Eventually, I found the store I was looking for. Chao¡¯s Provisions was a general and travel good store that I¡¯d passed while I was shopping for ingredients for my fried rice. I¡¯d stuck my head in, mostly to see if they had any dried spices, but been impressed by their selection of general mortal travel goods.

    The front door screeched loudly as I opened it, which I supposed was really just as good as a bell.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be with you in a minute!¡± A man shouted from the back. The store was devoid of people otherwise, crammed full of tents and packs, racks of boots and shelves of dried meat. I occupied myself browsing the boots. It was curious, seeing racks of them, when every cultivator I''d met so far preferred slippers. One particularly beautiful pair had phoenix designs up the calf wrought in red thread. They were also locked in a glass case. I wondered if they were self-heating or something, to merit the additional security.

    ¡°Elder.¡± The shopkeeper greeted me, performing what was either a very shallow bow, or a very deep nod. ¡°I am honored that you found my store worthy of remembering.¡±

    I acknowledged the man with my own, much shallower nod. He looked about fifty or so, a bit portly, with the sort of horseshoe haircut of a man beginning to go bald but unwilling to surrender.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a map of the lands surrounding the sect.¡±

    ¡°Around this entrance?¡±

    That was a curious way of framing it. Was that why people spoke of the Night with such awe? Was this entire sect a secret realm, or pocket dimension?

    ¡°All of them, if you have them.¡± I replied.

    One of the shopkeeper''s eyebrows rose. Shit, perhaps that was the wrong thing to say.

    ¡°My apologies, this small traveler has only entered the Pathless Night through the Dusk Gate and the Deep Woods, and the latter is far too dangerous for this one to endeavor to map. I have plenty of maps of the Qin Empire and its neighbors, though I cannot guarantee the borders with the Kingdom of Shan will be accurate, given how rapidly territory has been changing hands between the two of late. What scale were you interested in?¡±

    ¡°At least a thousand li out from the Dusk Gate. Two or three if you have it.¡±

    ¡°The full national then, that¡¯s about 3000 li. Let¡¯s see¡­ You, you, not you¡­¡± He muttered as he plucked a series of scrolls from the cubbies behind the counter. ¡°Take a look at these.¡±

    Three maps were spread out before me. I immediately knew which one I was buying. One was colossal, fully three feet  in either direction, hanging off the counter. It was gorgeously detailed, but I¡¯d have to lay it out to look at it properly, which seemed like a nightmare to keep clean. The other maps were more reasonably sized, but one was bare-bones, with just the major cities and roads marked.

    The third, was just right. Beautifully illustrated, with both geographical features and a wealth of settlements and landmarks.

    Spread on the dark wooden counter before me, was a new world. Or at least a small piece of it. The Dusk Gate let out in a nation marked as the Qin Empire. On the map, it was marked simply as a village titled ¡®Dusk¡¯ with no further annotation. No roads reached the village, but several crossed within an inch of it, both above and below. Convenient, that we were just off the major highways.

    Other sects were not so unceremoniously marked. In the capital city of Xianyang, a city so large it merited a small drawing, rather than a dot, the Heaven-Piercing Spear School was noted as a subscript. One mountain was marked the Glass Flower Sect. A small pagoda icon in the middle of nowhere was marked the Temple of the Transient Vessel. Apparently, we were either far smaller than these other sects, or very focused on our privacy. I somehow doubted that most maps on the Qin Empire side of things would have Dusk marked on them at all.

    Of the major sects, the Glass Flower Sect seemed the most promising for yin arts. A general yin focused school would no doubt have what I needed. But it would also be in higher demand. It was also risky, just going by the name. If they cultivated pure yin, or glass qi, or something more esoteric; they might simply not have any interest, and thus any demand, for lunar treasures. Lunar and umbral qi might be the exclusive domain of the Pathless Night. So, Xianyang it was. A capital city that hosted a major sect had to have a massive market, or at the very least information brokers who could point me in the right direction for a second trip. And I wasn¡¯t married to the idea of a lunar treasure anyway, I just needed anything that would help Su Li reach Foundation Establishment in months, not years.

    I checked the scale. 1400 li, roughly three li to a mile. That was what, 450 miles? Well within my range, with time to spare.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take this one.¡±

    ¡°For you, honored elder, four taels of silver.¡±

    I had no idea if that was expensive or not, but it definitely wasn¡¯t expensive to me. I still hadn¡¯t counted everything in my storage ring, but I had thousands of taels of silver, and hundreds of spirit stones of varying sizes and colors.

    I handed over the money, grabbed the map, gave the shopkeeper a nod, and left without another word.

    It felt like a waste, traveling across the country for something that we probably had here, just to avoid having to ask where our treasure pavilion was, and how it worked. But time and distance meant very little to me now, with my wide open schedule. Five hundred miles wouldn''t kill me, using the phrase contribution points when our sect called them merits just might be the first step on the road to ruin. And knowing more about the outside world wouldn¡¯t hurt, when it came time to either do my duty, or run from it.

    A change of clothes, a fake name, and I¡¯d be good as anonymous in the outside world. With a little luck, any misunderstandings caused by my lack of knowledge wouldn¡¯t echo back to the reputation of Elder Hu.

    The Dusk Gate was easy to find. Seven great pillars of wood had been set into the earth at the edge of Dusk, entire trees stripped of the branches and bark and used as fence posts. They stretched high into the sky, towering over the village itself, blending into the darkness of the night sky until you approached them. The seven pillars weren¡¯t connected. They weren¡¯t a gate, but a boundary. On one side, there was the sect. On the other, a foreign sky. As I stared up at the heavens, two moons looked down at me, each with its own constellation of stars.

    While the side of the village adjoining the sect was unguarded, the same wasn¡¯t true of the side exposed to the mortal world. Seven disciples, one inner, six outer, stood guard, staring out into the night of the wider world. All of them carried their weapons openly, spears and swords, supplemented with a pair of bows.

    ¡°Elder Hu.¡± The inner disciple greeted me.

    I nodded at him, and kept walking. He didn¡¯t stop me.

    For the first time, since I had arrived in the body of Elder Hu, I stepped out into the wider world. Stepping through the boundary was like pressing your hand into a pool of water, only to discover that there was air underneath the thin film of the surface. There was something there, something dividing the two worlds, but it was thin as gossamer, only noticeable when you touched it. I shivered, certain that as I had seen it, it had seen me. I didn¡¯t know how, but I knew. It didn¡¯t stop me either.

    The moment I stepped through, the sounds of disciples talking in the bars cut out. The smell of fried dough and spilled beer disappeared. I could see the sect, the seven pillars, the village beyond it, and the seven disciples guarding them, but that was it. It was like looking into another world at the bottom of a pond.

    I wanted nothing more than to poke and prod at it for hours. It was so far outside of my understanding of how a world could work. But I couldn¡¯t. Elder Hu wouldn¡¯t. So I kept walking.

    There was no sun to find north by, but apparently anticipating this exact problem, there was a single signpost just outside the Dusk Gate. It was an unmarked pole, with four spokes pointing off, marking the cardinal directions. They weren¡¯t labeled, but one was painted red, so I assumed that was north.

    Doing my best to memorize the location of the gate, I wandered off into the wider world.

    Despite it all, I was smiling. One day, I would step beyond the role of Elder Hu. I would never be the person I was just a week ago. But one day, I would be strong enough, safe enough, that I could be me again.

 Chapter 16 - Beer

    I ran through the night without stopping. My legs pumped like pistons, impossibly long strides eating up the ground beneath me. There was none of the exhilaration of running down the mountain, the road was flat, with few landmarks visible in the darkness. I¡¯d never hated running, but I¡¯d never loved it either. The wind in my hair, the effortless power of motion was nice, but after two hours, it was just boring.

    Dusk truly had been in the middle of nowhere. I kept running. An hour passed, then another. I¡¯d planned at first, to just run through the night. Then I saw the lamplights in the distance. As I approached, I saw that the place wasn¡¯t much. It was humbler than Dusk, small cottages with thatch roofs clustered around an inn that towered over them. I could hear music, a mournful tune from one of the many asian string instruments I could never keep straight. On a whim, I slowed to a mortal pace, and headed over. I¡¯d changed already, swapping robes to a well worn gray linen set I¡¯d found in the ring.

    All I needed was a name. Ideally one that was actually appropriate for my gender. I thought through the various male disciples and elders I¡¯d met, picking a pair of names at semi-random. I would be¡­ Fang Tao. Best not to use an elder¡¯s name. I pulled a strand of cash coins, and popped a few off the rope that held them and added them to my pocket. My sword went into the ring as well, and my disguise was as complete as it was going to get.

    The door of the inn was propped open, warmth and light pouring out. I wasn¡¯t sure what time it was now, it had to be at least three in the morning, between the goat¡¯s and the monkey¡¯s hour as they reckoned things here. Still, the voices of half a dozen men chatting mingled with the sad tune of the music.

    I stepped inside, and the conversation quieted, as six men and one woman turned to stare at me. I ignored them, as best I could, and made a beeline for the bar.

    ¡°Water, please.¡±

    ¡°You sure? The beer¡¯s not bad this year.¡±

    ¡°The water will be fine.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    There was a pause, as he grabbed a glass and filled it from one of the many barrels set into the far wall.

    ¡°A pair of cash.¡± The bartender said, passing me a ceramic cup. It was probably good it wasn¡¯t glass, it did a fair job of concealing the subtle brown tinge the water had.

    I collected my cup and paid him, then settled in at the open table in the corner. I wasn¡¯t really sure why I was here. Chatting up strangers in bars, whether to get laid, get the lay of the land, or just shoot the shit, had never been my forte. All I really needed to know was what town this was, to confirm that I was moving in the right direction.

    Once I sat down, the table of four that had been the majority of the noise in the bar returned to chatting with each other. The musician, a woman of forty five or so, had never stopped playing her erhu. But the last man in the bar, to my mild surprise, rose and stepped over to join me at my table.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you round town before. Did you just roll in?¡± He asked. He was an older man, close to sixty, a little portly, with a flushed face. His shoulder length hair was beginning to gray, but despite his age and the hour, he seemed full of energy. ¡°Name¡¯s Zhao Xue, by the way.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°Not often we get lone travelers around these parts, dangerous walking the roads late at night. All sorts of things prowl them these days.¡±

    ¡°Good to know. I found them surprisingly quiet tonight.¡±

    ¡°Looks like fortune smiles upon you then. Hopefully the emperor, long may he live, will be able to clear them properly soon, just as soon as that madness in the south clears up. What brings you to Xiamen?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just passing through on the way to the capital.¡± I said with a smile. There it was, the name I needed.

    Another man stumbled through the open door, clearly already well into his cups. I didn¡¯t think I saw another open bar on the main street. He must have been drinking at home.

    ¡°You staying the night in town then?¡± Zhao Xue asked.

    The drunkard headed right for our table.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing Zhao, jawing off like that to a wandering cultivator!¡±

    Again, the conversation died, as the table of four started watching us out of the corner of their eyes. The music continued though.

    ¡°What!¡± Zhao Xue blanched, and his speech shifted immediately in a far more formal register. ¡°Forgive me for my excessive familiarity, honored cultivator. It is now clear to this blind one, that the mortal dangers of the road would mean nothing to one such as you. I meant no offense.¡±

    ¡°Relax.¡± I said with a halfhearted wave. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be sitting at a bar if I was going to be upset if someone started talking to me. Good survival instincts though, we can be a prickly lot.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell him?¡± The newcomer asked, joining us at the table. I¡¯d hoped that simply refraining from actively using my cultivation would prevent people from sensing me, but if a random man in a small town noticed me from dozens of feet away, that seemed unlikely. Perhaps I was still leaking qi from my run, like sweat? I wondered what his history was, to immediately peg me as a cultivator. He couldn¡¯t be too powerful, even focusing carefully, I didn¡¯t sense any qi from him.

    Seemingly reassured I wasn¡¯t about to start killing people, the other table resumed their conversation. I was starting to wish the bar was a little bigger, everyone staring at me every time I twitched was starting to get annoying.

    ¡°We were a pair of men in a bar, it wasn¡¯t important.¡±

    ¡°Not important! Hah! I haven¡¯t heard many cultivators say that before.¡± The newcomer was younger than Zhao Xue, younger even than my new body, perhaps in his mid or late forties. He had the sort of body you saw on men who labored hard in their youth, then took a little too much to alcohol as they aged. His shoulders were broad and strong, but he carried a sizable beer belly.

    ¡°You talk to many cultivators?¡± I asked, curious.

    ¡°Not anymore. Qin Wenyan, formerly a sergeant in his imperial majesty¡¯s eastern army.¡± He said, proffering his hand.

    I shook it.

    ¡°Fang Tao. Wandering cultivator.¡±  It was true technically. I was a cultivator, and I was wandering around.

    ¡°You do this often? Walk around pretending to be a mortal?¡± Wenyan asked.

    ¡°I find it reduces the number of people asking me for things.¡±

    ¡°Hah, I can see that.¡±

    There was a pause, all of us a little unsure how to proceed.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°A beer for me, Little Yang.¡± Wenyan said, waving a pair of coins at the bartender.

    I took a sip from my water, as he waited for his drink. It was tricky, pinning down exactly what the strange taste was. I was leaning towards silt, but it was a little too¡­ Organic, for that. Perhaps residue from the wooden barrel?

    ¡°What was it like, serving in his majesty¡¯s army?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hah, never felt half so alive, as I did in those days. Never felt half so afraid neither.¡± He took a big swallow of his beer. ¡°I served under the Rising Dragon, back in the last war with Shan. Now there¡¯s a cultivator. Honorable, righteous, always led from the front, no matter what storm we were charging into. Some of the silkpants from the sects though, not so much. The big three are alright, but I swear, some of those boys from the smaller schools didn¡¯t have nothing on their minds but fighting and fucking. They''d''ve fit right in with the rest of the soldiers really except they didn¡¯t have the discipline not to make it the captain¡¯s problem.¡±

    ¡°Kids are the same everywhere.¡± I nodded. ¡°Adding cultivation to the pot just makes them more of what they already are.¡±

    ¡°Hah, ain¡¯t that the truth. Saw an Ironheart boy get his balls popped like grapes by a Glass Flower. Dumb little shit didn¡¯t understand that no means fuck off. Shame his treasures couldn¡¯t take the same punishment as his fists.¡±

    He paused.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get your start at one of those small sects here did ya?¡±

    ¡°I did not.¡±

    ¡°Good, good. I forget myself sometimes. No captain around to bail me out if I stick my foot in my mouth these days.¡±

    ¡°And you thought to warn me, about jawing off to a cultivator.¡± Zhao Xue laughed. He was starting to relax again now. ¡°Perhaps you should take your own advice.¡±

    ¡°Hey, at least I know when I¡¯m sticking my head in the tiger¡¯s mouth.¡±

    ¡°Realizing it afterwards doesn¡¯t count for much.¡±

    ¡°Oh fuck off.¡± Qin Wenyan said without much heart. ¡°Used to think I¡¯d reach Foundation Establishment one day. I was so close, when I left the army. Made the eighth stage, when my son was born. Never did take those last few steps though. How high did you climb, if you don¡¯t mind an old fool asking.¡±

    ¡°Old fool?¡± I said, with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Pretty sure you¡¯re the youngest one at this table. You can ask whatever you like. Can¡¯t say I¡¯ll answer them all though.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Least you ain¡¯t getting pissy I asked. We used to compare our progress every day back in the army, pump ourselves full up with qi til our dantians were fit to burst, see who could put the biggest gash in a tree. The sects never did get into it though. They always did like to keep their tiles close to their chests.¡±

    ¡°We cultivators do like our secrets.¡±

    Qin Wenyan paused, staring at me.

    ¡°That your real name, Fang Tao?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± I said with a smile.

    ¡°Well, can you tell me what sect you¡¯re with at least?¡±

    ¡°I could.¡±

    ¡°Hah! I should have expected that.¡± Wenyan said with a great belly laugh. ¡°Fine, be that way. Keep your secrets.¡±

    The tavern quieted, as the music of the erhu reached a climax. Two strings sang of cruel fate, and lost love. Seven men listened intently, each staring at a memory only they could see. Then it ended, and six men clapped. Little Yang tapped his feet in appreciation, his hands occupied with a keg. I wondered what the story was there. He wasn¡¯t a small man.

    ¡°You got any family, Fang Tao?¡± Zhao Xue asked suddenly.

    ¡°I hope that I still do. They were well, last we spoke, but fate has carried me far from my home.¡±

    ¡°No wife?¡±

    ¡°They call them dao companions, in the sects¡± Qin Wenyan interjected.

    ¡°There was a woman I hoped to spend my life with, but circumstances intervened.¡±

    ¡°I see even cultivators are not spared the tribulation that is women.¡± Qin Wenyan said.

    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t that.¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°I loved her dearly, and she loved me, but the whims of heaven can be cruel.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that they can, that they can. No surer sign you¡¯re a foreigner, no man of Qin would ever need a reminder of that.¡± Qin Wenyan sighed, then wiped at his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t lose hope, if you love each other still. My own wife is in her bed just down the street, but she might as well be ten thousand li away.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I said quietly. An image leapt to mind, unbidden. I crushed it, pushed it down into the dark. It was too soon. I could still see the goofy smile on her face as she stretched a ball of sourdough into a long rope, wiggling it around pointlessly, getting flour all over the kitchen. They say the only difference between medicine and poison is dosage. This soon, I knew, trying to hold onto any hope at all would be poison to me.

    ¡°What about you, Zhao Xue? Any family?¡± I asked, desperate for a distraction.

    ¡°As you said, heaven is cruel. I lost my sons to war and my wife to fate.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°It was a long time ago. I have made my peace with it.¡± He shook his head.

    ¡°I wish I could say the same.¡± Qin Wenyan muttered, leaning back in his seat. He threw back the rest of his beer. ¡°Little Yang, another.¡±

    We sat together companionably, drowning our sorrows, and drowning in them.

    Eventually, Qin Wenyan broke the silence.

    ¡°I often wonder, if my life would have been different, if I became a cultivator. The Ironheart Sect offered to accept me as an outer disciple, after I served my decade, earned the right to bear the name Qin. Said the seventh stage of Qi Gathering before thirty was nothing to sneeze at. I was young, arrogant. Thought the world was my oyster, I''d make it on my own. Build a foundation, build a family, join the Sublime Spear School as an inner disciple. I thought I¡¯d have all the time in the world, without the responsibilities of the army.

    ¡°And then I blinked, and fifteen years had passed, and I had nothing to show for it but a single stage of advancement, and a wife and son who hated me. Even if I reached Foundation Establishment now, even the small schools would laugh at me. Who needs a disciple that will die in twenty years? Fuck, I don¡¯t know what my question is. Did I ever have any chance at all, or was this always where it was going to end?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t assess your talent with a glance, any expert that says they can is lying. All I can tell you is that you¡¯re not dead yet. Until you are, your fate is yours to change.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple.¡±

    I snorted. ¡°It never is.¡±

    ¡°It was pretty fucking simple when I was a young man. Fight, survive, do it again tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°The world didn¡¯t change. You did.¡±

    ¡°You think I¡¯d have made it then, if I kept with the army? That I needed the fighting to rise? Should I sign up again, give those Shan bastards another chance to claim the head they missed for ten years?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. Or perhaps you just needed to give all that you had to raising your family, the same way you gave everything you had to the war. Or maybe you just needed more ambient qi, or a better cultivation method.¡±

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Or maybe you just needed to drink less, and cultivate more.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you.¡± He said without venom.

    ¡°He¡¯s got you there, Wenyan.¡± Zhao Xue cut in. ¡°If beer were qi, you¡¯d have pissed out enough to raise an immortal by now.¡±

    ¡°What, that¡¯s the secret, sobriety? You sound like one of those Transient Vessel turtle eggs. That why you ain¡¯t drinking, Fang Tao, it¡¯ll get in the way of your path to immortality?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I just don¡¯t like beer. Never did.¡± I said, grateful for the lighter subject. ¡°Don¡¯t know why the rest of you insist on drinking wet bread.¡±

    ¡®You gonna be around here long? I¡¯ve got some harder stuff, back at the house.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t. I¡¯ll be pushing off in a few minutes. Perhaps on the way back, if all goes to plan, I¡¯ll pass by here again two nights from now, early in the evening.¡±

    It was a risk, revealing my schedule, even to some friendly mortals, but I liked them. Qin Wenyan was a veritable font of information about the Qin and Shan. Plus, I was downright curious, if mortal rice wine could even get me drunk. I¡¯d always enjoyed a drink or three, but it would have been a rather large violation of my wise elder persona to purchase a cheap drink that couldn¡¯t even affect me back home.

    But everything was a risk these days, and this seemed like a smaller one than most.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a bad egg, for a cultivator, Fang Tao. I¡¯ll be here, in two days. Take care that you are too.¡± Zhao Xue said.

    ¡°Hah, I¡¯ll drink to that.¡± Qin Wenyan said, raising his refilled mug.

    ¡°You¡¯ll drink to anything.¡± Zhao Xue rolled his eyes.

    ¡°To Fang Tao surviving his mysterious errand.¡± Qin Wenyan proposed. ¡°Ganbei!¡±

    ¡°Ganbei!¡± We echoed. I drained my mug. Yeah, that aftertaste was definitely wood.

 Chapter 17 - A Covetous Man

    Wang Li was a covetous man. He did not deny the truth of his soul. That way, lay demons of the heart. The blind masses denounced the man who would covet that which was above his station. Power, wealth, women, he wanted it all. They called such hunger base, envious, unfilial.

    The blind masses were blind for a reason. They could not see it, but the kernel of their morality was born of the weakness at the root of their soul. The laws they wrought existed to restrain their betters, to yoke the strong for the benefit of the weak. Was it any wonder that the corrupt so easily bent such laws to their own purposes?.

    He had seen the fate of the weak. His law abiding father had died destitute. His loyal mother had starved without him, unable to stand on her own two feet. He had thought the sects could see the truth. They claimed to be meritocracies, bastions of true virtue untainted by the world around them. They claimed that service in the name of the sect would be rewarded. They lied. Their disciples were little more than glorified servants. They would sweat and bleed not for their own advancement, but for the prosperity of the sect. They would waste their days performing manual labor for the mere right to exist within the bounds of the dragon vein the sect had claimed as their own, a thousand men conspiring to claim a treasure none of them could defend alone. They would kill and die against the enemies of the empire for the meanest scraps of spirit stones, even the loot of their rightful kills claimed by the rapacious war machine of the empire.

    And then the nephew of an elder would come of age. And none would dare to suggest that they needed to ¡®pay their dues¡¯ as a disciple of common birth did. After all, they were clearly more talented than those common disciples, a future pillar of the sect. Was not their rapid growth clear evidence of their bright future? What did it matter, that a hundred spirit stones had fueled it?

    And so, he had left. After he had taken what he was owed, for his years of service. He did not regret it. Regrets were for men who no longer moved forward.

    Now, Wang Li stood alone on the Gold Road. But his spirit rejoiced, for outcast and hunted, he was free at last. There would be no respite for him, by his own strength alone would he carve out a future in this cruel world. For in strife, the worthy will rise. And he was nothing, if not worthy.

    And so he walked down the empty road, and on his shoulder rested a weapon worthy of a free man. A weapon worthy of a covetous man. A weapon worthy of the core formation cultivator he would soon become.

    The night was long, and the qi was thin. Once, according to legend, the Gold Road had followed the course of a dragon vein. True or false, that was in the time of the empire that was, before it had collapsed; long before Qin Longwei had brought forth order from the madness the land had descended into. Now, the vein was no more, exhausted by generations of greed. What thin wisps of qi flowing along the road were a riotous combination of aspects born from the passage of travelers. He recognized hints of blood and weapon qi, and traces of the commerce of the cities, but the great majority of it was far beyond his ability to identify.

    It made for brutal and inefficient cultivation, cycling this thin chaotic miasma, but he persevered. That which strained his dantian tempered his spirit.

    He was so close, but a half step away from core formation. He had enough true qi, and as a true spear cultivator, he didn''t need to rely on an external treasure to provide him the power to finish his breakthrough. His own spear intent would do that. All that was left was to temper himself further, to crush the mountain and boil the sea within him, to sharpen further the intent that would be the instrument of his ascension.

    He walked and cycled for hours, the passing time as meaningless as the progress he was making. Mortal caravans approached him, saw the robes and closed eyes, and wisely kept their distance. Then, he felt something in the distance. Something sharp, real. No, not something, someone.

    It was always a delicate matter, gauging the power of a strange cultivator. It was easy enough to place a man¡¯s cultivation when he cycled it, or brought its full measure to bear. He cycled his own, letting the weight of his peak foundation establishment power echo into the world. The stranger slowed his run, matching their pace to his own, as they approached. Good, it was always disappointing to find qi wasted upon the craven.

    His first impression was that the other cultivator was tired. His robes were tattered things, worn thin by hard use, properly modest only because of the number of layers he wore. He was an older man, with a stern face. His hair was jet black still, tied back in a simple tail, but his short cropped beard was shot with hints of gray. It was his posture though, that spoke of exhaustion. His shoulders were not bowed, but they were not proud, ready to bear the weight of the world, as his own were. Wang Li would know, only recently had he truly learned what it meant for a man to be free.

    More promisingly, were the many scars he bore, crisscrossing his hands. His left ear was missing a small notch, and with a cultivator''s keen vision, one could see the silver ghost of a line crossing his throat, the mark of a grievous injury survived.

    An old, worn down, dog he might be, but he clearly still had some fight in him.

    He could feel the qi seeping from his meridians, drawn forth by the vigor of his run. Even without intent or technique, it was sharp and bloody stuff. He stood at least in core formation, for him to exert himself so heedlessly, a foundation establishment cultivator would husband their strength, without the unflagging vitality provided by a core. But the early stages of core formation, certainly. Only the very weakest of core formation cultivators could not fly under their own power.

    Or, perhaps he was running to temper his body? Another mark against him, no martial cultivator of a major sect would have left the very earliest stages of bodily cultivation until so late into their development. Wang Li¡¯s own bodily cultivation exceeded his spiritual, having already achieved his first fleshly reformation. A potent advantage that allowed him to fight far beyond his realm.

    Either way, he felt confident in his guess. A mediocre talent, who achieved core formation late in a difficult and bloody life. Beyond his realm, but not beyond his skill. All in all, a suitable candidate for him to temper himself against.

    "Senior. Exchange pointers with me.¡± Wang Li commanded.

    The cultivator in the road regarded him with a cautious expression.

    "That''s one way to greet someone."

    Wang Li sighed. Another standing on ceremony, tainting what should be simple and pure. Very well, if he wanted politeness, Wang Li would give him politeness.

    "Wang Li, former inner disciple of the Heaven-Piercing Spear, greets fellow daoist."

    "Good evening, Wang Li. This one is going by the name of Fang Tao, of no sect he would deign to mention."

    What a curious response. He insists on greetings, then all but admits to concealing his name and origins. Possibilities flitted through Wang Li''s mind. A demon perhaps, or one who had left their sect like him, but was bound by shame. He found that he did not care.

    "Take up your sword. I would take the measure of your spirit."

    "Why?"

    "Because you stand before me. Because your demeanor irks me. Because in strife, the worthy rise."

    He sighed. Wang Li''s fingers tightened. His flippancy made mockery of the sacred.

    "I''m not getting out of this am I?"

    "No." Wang Li said calmly. "You are not."

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    "Fine." Slowly, he drew his sword, gave it a few testing swings, as a man might when unfamiliar with a weapon. Disappointing. "Just remember, you asked for this."

    He would remember. He feared nothing. A righteous cultivator would not kill in a duel. And a demon should be slaughtered, even if it would cost his life.

    Wang Li leveled his spear at his opponent, and danced forward, closing the distance between them.

    Fang Tao''s sword rose slowly into a strange low guard. Cautiously, Wang Li let his charge play out, throwing a quick thrust at his opponent''s chest.

    With an unexpected burst of speed, his sword rose up in an artless parry. Wang Li could see it now, two moves. Flow with the parry, spin round, feint high and dip the point at the last moment. Then the two weapons connected, and the future he saw vanished.

    The flat of the sword met the haft of his spear with a resounding crack. The sheer force of the blow left his hands numb. His spear flew upwards, and then rose higher still, almost lifting him off his feet. Wang Li leapt back, scrambling to create distance before his foe could counterattack. It took a fraction of a second for him to recover his posture, but that was a veritable eternity in a battle of experts. And yet, his opponent didn¡¯t even bother to capitalize on the advantage, content to wait for Wang Li¡¯s next move.

    He dared to look down upon him? He would learn better.

    Where the hell was this raw power coming from? Bodily cultivation? A variant of the perfect block technique? Had he simply underestimated his opponent¡¯s realm? His technique was crude, but the sheer force of that strike meant Wang Li couldn¡¯t afford any but the most optimal blocks. No matter, he¡¯d triumphed with worse.

    Gathering up his qi, he charged again. Short exchanges favored his spear.

    Again, the crude parry rose to meet him, edge angling for his haft, as if he aimed to destroy Wang Li¡¯s weapon. Foolish. The spear in his hands had once belonged to Qin Longwei, the Dragon Emperor himself, before he ascended beyond it and passed on it to Elder Zang. Even a nascent soul cultivator would struggle to destroy it.

    This time, he was prepared. At the last moment, he abandoned the thrust, sending his spear to the side. The parry connected, and Wang Li spun with the overwhelming force.

    The haft of the spear swung high, and struck the fool across his face.

    Wang Li didn''t allow his opponent the luxury of recovery. He chased, as his foe retreated, spear braced tight to his chest, sending out short, tightly controlled thrusts, baiting that monstrous parry.

    He would show this fool that one clever trick did not make a swordsman, if he took such a wild swing again, Wang Li would run him through. Fang Tao defended passably, struggling to predict where the blows would land, but blocking each strike in the end, his guard unyielding as the earth.

    But defense didn''t win battles, it only bought you another moment.

    ¡°Ceaseless, I Advance.¡± Wang Li murmured, cycling his qi in time with the declaration. Again and again he struck, driving his opponent back. And with each blow, he felt power growing in his limbs, as the technique converted physical momentum into temporary power.

    Once, twice, seven times he struck. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed. Not a single drop of blood was shed, but the noose was closing all the same.

    Finally, Fang Tao realized the trap, and suddenly charged forwards in a reckless assault, sword raised high to threaten a mutual kill. Wang Li danced to the side. It wasn¡¯t an advance, but it wasn¡¯t a retreat either. The Ceaseless Advance wavered, but did not break.

    It was time to end this. Fang Tao¡¯s techniques were interesting, he felt he¡¯d only scratched the surface of them, but for all his scars, he was no warrior. His spear intent surged, the masterwork in his hand recognizing the skill of its wielder, and answering in kind. He would show them all that one did not become heir to a dragon¡¯s legacy by accident of birth. Such glory could not be given, only taken.

    At the tip of his spear, a queer light shone, neither white, nor colored. His spear intent was nothing so simple as an overwhelming sharp pressure.

    ¡°Kingfisher¡¯s Hunt.¡±

    One final time, he charged, and thrust. And creation screamed as it was folded in upon itself, as what was one was made three.

    A sword flashed, and what was three was made two.

    And then there was stillness.

    Fang Tao yet stood, propped up as much by the spear as his legs. Blood seeped from twin holes in his chest, he¡¯d blocked the strike aimed for his throat, but missed the other two. Wang Li¡¯s spear rested in one of Fang Tao¡¯s lungs, and a parallel wound bloomed wetly in the other.

    Wang Li smiled. Deep, but not fatal. The win was his.

    As he opened his mouth to announce his victory, Wang Li tasted blood.

    Sword intent had gathered around Fang Tao. Not merely around his blade, but all around him. It hung in the air, thick enough to tint the moonlight steel-gray, sharp enough Wang Li¡¯s lungs filled with blood as he breathed in.

    Wang Li leapt back, ripping his spear free. The instincts that had guided him through decades of danger screamed at him, that now was not the time to go for the kill. He rallied his own intent, forcibly twisting its offensive nature to protect him.

    A sword flashed. Once, twice, three times.

    Wang Li blocked, his own space-bending spear intent rushing forward. The three strikes disappeared, consumed by his intent.

    Then they struck home anyway. Thin slices opened up across the entirety of Wang Li¡¯s body. He could see it, enlightenment gripping him through the pain. Fang Tao had diffused the force of his strikes across the entire scope of his intent. All around him, leaves fell and shrubs toppled, as the power of those three blows was evenly distributed across every surface around him.

    He might as well have blocked a gust of wind, for all the good it did.

    His blood drenched his robes as his ribboned flesh weeped freely. His wounds would close in minutes, but they would be long, painful, days in healing. He dropped to his knees, acknowledging his defeat.

    Fang Tao put his sword away, its steel-gray blade still bone-dry. Then he slowly approached, standing above his defeated opponent. Wang Li¡¯s pride burned, even as his mind turned over that last technique.

    ¡°Thank you, I found that surprisingly enlightening. You wouldn¡¯t happen to be coming from the direction of Xianyang would you?¡± Fang Tao asked.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Wang Li choked out between gasps. ¡°L-lived there for fifteen years.¡±

    ¡°Excellent!¡± Fang Tao said jauntily, the wounds on his chest already slowly closing. Up close, Wang Li could see they were even shallower than expected. What monstrous durability. Had he completed some monstrously powerful fleshly reformation? Or was his opponent a nascent soul, holding back the whole time?

    ¡°I happen to be in the market for an elemental treasure of a particular esoteric aspect suitable for someone in the first or early second stage.¡± He continued blithely. ¡°Where might I inquire about purchasing such a thing in Xianyang?¡±

    Wang Li racked his mind. If he proved of use, he might yet walk out of here with some of the contents of his storage ring.

    ¡°The Sleeping Fortune brokers keep lists of those looking to sell such items. If anyone is selling one, or has before, they would be able to introduce you for a small fee. The Xianyang branches of the sects all trade in the elements of their schools, but it would take a lot of money to get them to part with a treasure appropriate for them after they acquired it. You would have more luck purchasing it before it ended up in their hands.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. Good to know.¡± Fang Tao said, staring down at him. Wang Li began to sweat. Hopefully, he would not demand the entirety of his storage ring. As the challenged party, without a wager set, such a demand would be within the bounds of honor, if only barely.

    ¡°Any benefits I gained aside, starting a fight with a man who has expressed no interest in such a thing is quite rude.¡± Fang Tao continued. ¡°Doubly so when he has offered you no provocation save existing.¡±

    ¡°A man should not cultivate if he would shy from battle.¡± Wang Li grit out through the pain.

    ¡°People should cultivate for whatever reason they choose, so long as they do not harm innocents in its pursuit.¡± Fang Tao said in a sanctimonious tone. ¡°Whether they master the sword, or beat one into a plow and farm rice, is no concern of yours.¡±

    ¡°Get bent. My challenge was righteous. I did not bow to the heavens. I did not bow to the Heaven-Piercing Spear. I will not bow to you.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got that part right. You¡¯re not gonna be bowing for a while. I do hope you¡¯ll think twice about asking for a duel, instead of demanding one, in the future.¡±

    Fang Tao lifted a leg. Slowly, with exaggerated emphasis he twisted his hips, chambering the leg for a kick. Belatedly, Wang Li realized what was about to happen, and cycled his cultivation. He rallied his qi, forcing it through overworked pathways to accumulate around his vitals. His core, where the blow would land. His head, which would suffer whiplash. His right hand, because he would die before he surrendered his spear.

    He didn¡¯t see the blow land. He didn¡¯t feel the blow land. All he saw was the world vanish beneath him, the landscape vanishing into a blur as he flew through the air like a bird. The trees looked so small from here. His last thought, as his consciousness fled from his overwhelming injuries, was that there was no way that man was merely in core formation.

 Chapter 18 - Xianyang

    I''m not an expert on urban planning, but I don''t think it''s unfair of me to say that Xianyang was a giant mess. It started out positive, the outer wall of the city wasn¡¯t colossal or anything, but it was the height of three men. Sure, a core formation cultivator could leap right over it, but nearly twenty feet of dull yellow stone was an imposing barrier for mortals. Three individual gates were set in the south wall, the largest commercial one fully wide enough for three wagons to clear customs at the same time. I followed the posted signs to the third gate, marked with the characters for ¡®daoist¡¯.

    A young woman greeted me, flanked by a pair of guards in well burnished bronze scalemail. Each of the guards bore a heavy steel halberd, while the young woman carried a sort of clipboard, a wide piece of wood with a single sheet of paper stretched tight across it, and a brush.

    All three were lower realm cultivators, I could feel qi intentionally exuding from all three of them, saturating the open space beneath the gate. A weak preceptory technique designed to mimic spirit sense perhaps?

    The young woman audibly gulped as I approached. This did seem like a rather stressful job.

    ¡°Welcome to Xianyang. May I have your name, honored daoist?¡±

    ¡°Fang Tao.¡± I lied. She jotted down some characters on her clipboard, not even bothering to confirm the spelling.

    ¡°Realm?¡±

    ¡°Core formation.¡± I had no idea if that was true or not, but none of these three were in a position to gainsay me. They were definitely all below the midpoint of foundation establishment at most.

    ¡°Affiliation?¡±

    ¡°None.¡± I lied again. I felt like a Republican congressman filling out a financial disclosure statement. Worst case, I¡¯d just run anyway. I rather doubted they¡¯d send an elder after me and risk a fight demolishing half the city because I lied on my paperwork.

    ¡°First time in town?¡±

    ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°Right then.¡± She said, launching into a clearly practiced speech. ¡°As a cultivator, you¡¯re exempt from the entry fee. His imperial majesty, Qin Longwei, requests that you register with the Ministry of Daoist Affairs if you intend to remain in town for longer than a year. He also requests that you limit the usage of any superhuman movement techniques to streets and lanes dedicated for such transit, and that you refrain from roof-jumping or flight after the close of the Dog¡¯s Hour, unless you are leaving the city. Failure to comply with such rules may result in penalties.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Do you require directions to any location or person?¡±

    ¡°I had hoped to visit the Sleeping Fortune Brokers.¡±

    ¡°Their primary office is located on the north end of Shennong¡¯s Plaza. You can reach it by following the Gold Road, and turning north where it meets the plaza. Look for the statue of Shennong. Would you like a guide?¡±

    ¡°I would not.¡±

    ¡°Have a pleasant stay. If you require further assistance, any Ministry of Daoist Affairs office will be happy to provide it.¡±

    I nodded, and walked through. She didn¡¯t even remark on the fact that I was openly carrying a sword, or stare at the small bloodstains on my chest. It was clear foreign cultivators were largely handled with kid gloves here. Or, at least ones at my level were. It made sense, an actively hostile relationship with us would be a nightmare. I figured as it was, most probably just bypassed the gates anyway and hopped the walls. From my conversation with Qin Wenyan and Zhao Xue, I¡¯d gathered that the Heaven-Piercing Spear School was at least comparable in scope to the Pathless Night, and that Qin Longwei was an absolute monster, likely far beyond my current cultivation. I wasn¡¯t sure how he compared to my own sectmaster, but I certainly wasn¡¯t going to attract his attention. Wang Li hadn¡¯t been a true challenge, but he¡¯d caught me off guard a few times. The power and speed of that Kingfisher¡¯s Hunt of his had blown right past my guard, only the simple fact that I was at least a realm above the former inner disciple had saved me from serious injury. Even then, my wounds had taken the rest of the night and part of the morning to heal on their own without a pill.

    If an inner disciple could land blows on me, even superficial ones, drawing the attention of an emperor was out of the question. I was not about to start the sort of trouble that might risk drawing him out of the palace where he allegedly was in closed door cultivation.

    While the cultivator gate had been empty, all three gates let out onto the Gold Road, and it was anything but. To my right, another sign marked ¡®Daoist¡¯ adorned a set of stairs, which led upwards. I ignored them, stepping out onto the Gold Road itself. The road was wide here, even wider than it had been on its approach, easily forty feet across. Carts and pedestrians alike moved across the road in every direction, the road¡¯s sheer size the only thing keeping the chaos from turning into a colossal traffic jam. As I progressed further, I was able to see where the stairs marked daoist lead, they opened out onto the roof of a building, which flowed into a sort of half road, half aqueduct structure, farther above the bustle of the city. It was clever, a sort of overpass where cultivators could run at the speed of cars without turning pedestrians into meat jelly. It was also immediately apparent that there weren¡¯t all that many turnoffs, the aqueducts were individual highways, not a full road system. I supposed that was where all the rooftop running came from, the last mile or so to a cultivator¡¯s destination.

    I shuddered, imagining what it must be like to be a mortal thief here. Want to run the rooftops to get to a given building? Not only is there a curfew on being up there, you might run into a random cultivator breaking it. Perhaps even one who didn¡¯t want there to be any witnesses to him flouting the law.

    By the gate, buildings were laid out in roughly a grid pattern, with streets between. There wasn¡¯t a fixed size to them, like you¡¯d see in a modern city. Sometimes it was four three story tenement blocks, standing back to back, completely filling the space. Other blocks were hodgepodges of houses with no rhyme or reason to them, stacked aside and atop each other like a toddler¡¯s building blocks. And sometimes the block was simply a single compound with a large courtyard, walled off from the chaos of the city. I passed shops and restaurants, often adorned with massive signs. The fashion seemed to be two or three characters for the proprietor¡¯s family name, and then a pictogram for what they did or sold. But just as much commerce occurred within the street as behind closed doors, vendors set up elaborate carts every few feet along the Gold Road, hawking everything from the classics like meat on a stick to stranger goods, like live songbirds in bamboo cages, and great gallon sized ceramic jars of butter.

    I felt like I should pick up a stick of whatever meat that was, I had the money, but to be quite honest, I didn¡¯t trust it. I felt absolutely no need to test my cultivator constitution in that particular manner.

    On a whim, I left the Gold Road, picking a side street at random. I would always be able to find it, it''s sheer size and the skywalk above it made it easy to see from any distance.

    As I progressed deeper into the city, order slowly gave way to madness. It was a subtle thing at first. The first true sign of dysfunction was the sewers. They were present, just like they were in the wealthier areas by the gate, open topped ditches that flowed with a perpetual thin stream of water, intended to wash away all the crap people dumped in there. But as the houses got smaller and the manors disappeared, small blockages caused by people tossing rubbish in the sewers became more common.

    As the stretch worsened, so did the organization of the city. I saw animals butchered and hung to dry, blood heedlessly pouring out onto the street itself. I passed a tannery. A bloody tannery. The literal archetypal example of things we don''t place within a residential district. The smell of chemicals and rot singed even my qi-enhanced nose-hairs. Where was it? Directly between a residential building and a hospital. Or, perhaps a hospice. There was a heavy aspect to it, the telltale air of a place where people go to die.

    I''d seen worse, in photographs and on televisions, but never in person. It wasn''t a hopeless place though. A pair of women haggled in front of the butcher. Some children played boisterously in the street, a great crowd chasing a single ball. I watched as one slipped on the patch of half-dried blood beneath a hanging goat, staining his shorts a dark red. A woman, his mother probably, shouted at him from an open window. A dozen eyes watched me surreptitiously, all fearful, all hungry.

    I left, heading back towards the main road. It felt wrong to look away. But it felt wronger still to watch and do nothing.

    It took the better part of an hour to reach Shennong''s Plaza. It reminded me a little of Rome, a great paved space in the shape of a rounded oval, dominated by a colossal bronze statue of the God of Agriculture. He was portrayed as a boisterous fellow, barrel chested with a great belly. His head was human, but bull''s horns emerged from his forehead, scraping the sky as he threw his head back in laughter. A pipe hung precariously from his open mouth. A cape of woven grass, sculpted from bronze with painstaking care, and a great staff that looked like actual wood completed the image. It was quite a heroic look, for a deity of the hearth. I wondered if he was real, if he lived still. Was he a myth, like back home, or a cultivator of godlike power?

    The Sleeping Fortune office was easy to find. It was a big boxy building, with a facade of painted red bricks. The door was flanked by twin gold painted statues, one a much smaller rendition of Shennong, harvesting a stalk of bamboo, the other a fat man resembling a laughing buddha, in the process of catching a fish.

    Walking in, I found myself in a space not unlike a bank lobby. It had all the classic features, just subtly different. The attendants standing behind counters wore robes, instead of suits. Instead of benches and armchairs, there were red-lacquered couches with thin cushions and ornately carved backs. Instead of security guards in gray with tasers, a pair of cultivators in sky blue robes carried formidable looking glaives. I took a seat on one of the empty couches, scanning the signs by the service counters looking for one that was appropriate for ¡®daoist seeking to buy rare natural treasure¡¯.

    I really hoped I wouldn¡¯t need to participate in an auction to get what I wanted. Anything but an auction. I very much did not need to offend some young mistress whose childhood friend would declare a vendetta against me for ¡®bullying¡¯ her by being willing to pay more money for something she wanted. It felt like a silly scenario, but then until last night, a total stranger challenging me to a duel because ¡®in strife the worthy rise¡¯ had felt like a silly scenario too. I hoped Wang Li didn¡¯t cut himself too badly on all that edge. I also hoped he¡¯d survived that last kick. I¡¯d rather lost my temper at the end there, and greatly misjudged my strength.

    ¡°Ahem.¡± A well dressed man sitting across from me coughed.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I turned to face him.

    "It is customary, when conducting business in the empire of Qin, to wear robes that have only the holes that they left the tailor¡¯s shop with. And to wash them, after getting blood on them."

    My stomach sank. I genuinely felt bad about that, these gray robes had been barely passable before I added two new holes and matching bloodstains. Unfortunately, Elder Hu owned literally nothing except this set of rags that wasn¡¯t black with red trimming. The single most demonic color combination in the world.

    Fuck. Suddenly it hit me, all the small hints coming together. Black robes, living in a pocket realm, the sect isn¡¯t even marked obviously on our own maps. We were demons, weren¡¯t we?

    I¡¯d never seen any humans being turned into pills, or corpse refiners, or blood based cultivation techniques, but then I¡¯d never gone looking for them either.

    Shit, maybe I was the blood cultivator? Su Li had called me the ¡®Crimson Saint¡¯, that day we¡¯d first met.

    ¡°Are you deaf as well as color blind?¡± The merchant snapped.

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    ¡°Sorry, I was lost in thought.¡± I replied a little sheepishly. I really needed to look into that, when I returned to the sect. And perhaps figure out whether running was a valid option or not.

    I was more than a little pissed at myself right now. I¡¯d just walked into a fancy establishment wearing bloodstained robes, and I hadn¡¯t even thought about it. Sure, they were small bloodstains, it wasn¡¯t like I was drenched in the stuff, but they were still bloodstains. I had just assumed it would be fine, that my status let me ignore social conventions. It¡¯d only been a week, and I already was starting to just ignore rules because I could, because nobody would dare hold me to account. I could leave, go buy actual clothing and come back later. It would only be the slightest bit awkward. If I waited six hours, most of these people wouldn¡¯t be on shift any more.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize, buy some robes next time. If you¡¯re shopping here, you can afford clean clothing.¡±

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man in red and gold robes approaching us.

    ¡°Honored cultivator, this Ming An would be happy to assist you with any business that you have with the brokerage, if you would care to follow me.¡±

    Shit, I¡¯d missed my opportunity to bow out. I nodded, and followed Ming An into a small office.

    ¡°Fucking cultivators.¡± The merchant muttered quietly, but not quietly enough to escape my hearing. ¡°Can¡¯t even be bothered not to track blood into an auction house.¡±

    I didn¡¯t respond. He wasn¡¯t wrong.

    ¡°Tea?¡± Ming An asked, as we sat down.

    ¡°No thank you. I traveled through the night to get here, and I only have a few hours to find the goods I came here to purchase, before I must begin my return journey.¡±

    Ming An nodded as if this was a reasonable itinerary. ¡°I will endeavor not to waste any more of your time then. What can the Sleeping Fortune do for you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a natural treasure appropriate for a cultivator in the late qi condensation to early foundation establishment stages that exudes lunar qi.¡±

    ¡°I see. The brokerage does trade in such items, however they are typically earmarked for monthly auctions. The Glass Flower Sect has an open purchase order that covers all non demonic yin-aspected natural treasures, so in the interest of fairness, we hold such goods to ensure a supply is available for the open market.¡±

    And, of course, to eke as many spirit stones as possible out of the Glass Flower Sect, I was sure. It was tempting to ask about the demonic treasures that he¡¯d implied existed. It felt like the wrong move though, far too early in our relationship to even hint at being open to purchasing such a verboten item, to say nothing of the risk it might pose to Su Li to cycle from something like that.

    ¡°I see. When will the next auction with such goods on the docket be?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Two weeks hence.¡±

    ¡°That is unfortunate, such a timeline is not compatible with my pre-existing commitments.¡±

    Silence hung between us for a few moments. I allowed my body to fall into that absolute stillness that being a cultivator made all too easy. Opposite me, Ming An continued to breathe and blink. I wasn¡¯t gonna threaten the guy, but I wasn¡¯t above applying a little pressure. They had the goods, I had the money. They had recognized me as sufficiently powerful to merit special service. There was a deal to be made here. It was just a question of finding the angle.

    ¡°I had been informed that the Sleeping Fortune Brokerage were the premier merchants of such items in Xianyang.¡± I finally said. ¡°It is unfortunate that I shall need to look elsewhere to purchase what I need. I had hoped that this might be a mutually profitable meeting.¡±

    I left it there for a beat, before beginning to slowly rise.

    ¡°Please, honored guest, wait a moment. It might still be possible to make a deal.¡±

    I paused exactly where I was, halfway through the motion of standing up, playing up the unearthly demeanor of a cultivator as much as possible.

    ¡°We have, at times, made exceptions to our policy of holding such treasures for auction, for exceptional customers.¡± He continued slowly. ¡°While we do not have such a relationship with you yet, rare indeed is the rule that coin cannot bend.¡±

    I very pointedly did not smile. In fact, I allowed the slightest ghost of a frown to grace my face as I sat back down.

    ¡°I have no interest in being fleeced.¡± I said bluntly. ¡°But I am not unaware that purchasing an item in advance of the auction would demand a premium above even what the winning bid might be expected to fetch, to compensate you for the loss of the inventory, and any potential difficulties with the Glass Flower Sect.¡±

    Ming An smiled widely, and I suddenly wished that I¡¯d done more market research before coming here.

    ¡°Shall I have our inventory brought out, then? That we might discuss specifics.¡±

    I nodded, and Ming An sprang into motion.

    Natural treasures were brought out in carts, in ones and twos. On the far side of the door, I heard what I suspected was additional security assembling outside. It didn''t seem like an unreasonable precaution, given the value of the goods paraded before me. I suspected the contents of my storage ring were worth far more, but it was a not insignificant display of wealth.

    Several treasures, I eliminated right away. One glass mirror felt cold and terribly sad, as if it had witnessed tragedy from a great distance. A phial of water emanated lunar qi as pure as the full moon itself, but it felt transient and hollow. I didn''t trust it to retain its charge long term. That one seemed like it might be a potent aid in breaking a bottleneck, between its purity and edible form factor, but it wasn''t the long term cycling treasure I was looking for.

    My spiritual sense was an inexact, fumbling, thing. I strived to quantify the type and volume of qi being emitted from each object, and largely ended up making decisions on vibes. As I eliminated objects they were taken away, until we were left with one.

    In the end, I picked a mirror. Or rather, a shard of one. It didn¡¯t have the overwhelming sense of tragedy the first mirror exuded. Instead, it emanated a pure, but subtly different sort of lunar qi, perhaps associated with a particular phase of the moon, and a sense of something I couldn¡¯t quite place. It was definitely related to the shattering of the mirror, but it wasn¡¯t sharpness, or sword qi, or loss. Finality, perhaps? Or severance? It seemed much more suitable for Su Li¡¯s sword cultivation and vengeful quest than the other options.

    I''d wanted two choices, having options made negotiation easier, but in the end I was only really interested in one treasure. It was less than ideal, but taking a position you aren¡¯t willing to follow through on is a dangerous move. I wouldn¡¯t have wanted the first mirror or the phial even at half the price of the shard, to say nothing of some of the treasures that felt hollow, like they might run out of qi soon.

    Unfortunately, then came the hard part. Numbers. I hated negotiating prices, but if I was being honest, I wouldn¡¯t say I was bad at it. Certainly, I¡¯d had enough experience in job interviews during my near two decades in the workforce, a lifetime ago. And that¡¯s all a salary is really, your price, what it costs to rent a man.

    One of the worst pieces of advice about negotiation floating around out there, is never give a number first. Instead, any good business school will tell you what you really want to do, is anchor high. You throw out a number that was aggressive, one high enough you¡¯d be happy if they accepted it and ended things there, but low enough to be plausible. Or vice versa, if you were on the other side of the table.

    Unfortunately, I had no idea what recent comparable items had auctioned for, so I¡¯d need to let Ming An anchor.

    In the end, they had brought out the tea set as I browsed through items. I took a sip, watching Ming An closely.

    ¡°This treasure satisfies my requirements.¡± I said, pointing towards the small shard of glass, roughly half the size of my hand. ¡°Do you have comparable sales information already, or do you need time to collect it?¡±

    ¡°Given your short timeline, I took the liberty of having the correct volume of sales brought in earlier.¡± Ming An said, hefting a colossal book onto the table next to the shard. ¡°Let¡¯s see, natural treasures, yin, lunar, third class.¡± He murmured, quickly flipping through the pages of the book. ¡°Six sales in the last year, most to the Glass Flower Sect, fetching between thirty and seventy standard spirit stones. Including the fee for an off cycle sale, shall we call it seventy five spirit stones?¡±

    Damn. That was steep. I only had 632 spirit stones in my storage ring, I¡¯d counted them like sheep when I was trying to fall asleep last night.

    He turned the book towards me, so I could see the records myself. I doubted I could argue price here, not without calling the honor of the brokerage itself into question. But a lesson anyone who buys a home in a hot market learns is that if you can¡¯t argue what comparables go for, you can always argue the good itself is substandard. I scanned the listings quickly, trying to parse the tiny characters for faults I could leverage.

    ¡°Third class is suitable for foundation establishment cultivators?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°That strikes me as very generous grading, this piece is certainly at the lower end of the third class. Shall we say an even fifty spirit stones?¡±

    Ming An consulted the spec sheet that had come in with the small piece of glass.

    ¡°If only barely, it is indeed of the third class, and it¡¯s been noted to show no sign of depletion. I think seventy stones remains more appropriate, given the trouble the house is going through.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly of quality, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s comparable to this treasure.¡± I said, pointing at the one that had gone for seventy stones, which was marked as class 3+, a little curve above the character for three indicating its superlative quality. ¡°It¡¯s not purely lunar aspected either, its conflicting natures makes it less efficient to cycle. Shall we say fifty five?¡±

    ¡°Ah, but the honored customer chose this one specifically. I think sixty five is more appropriate.¡± Ming An said, locking in the price. We were moving by the same increments, in the same direction, we¡¯d already agreed on sixty, the rest was just theater. It was a lot, but easily a price I could afford. I¡¯d just always been a frugal individual, so making such a big purchase without knowing how much my regular income was scared me. If the old Elder Hu had spent freely, and 600 was only a few months worth of income, that was fine. If it turned out that I only drew a nominal salary from the sect and it represented a large percentage of his personal savings, then every little glowing rock counted.

    ¡°Satisfying my particular needs doesn¡¯t make it more valuable on the auction block. I would be happy to pay sixty stones for it.¡±

    ¡°I hope that this is the beginning of a fruitful relationship.¡± Ming An said with a downright predatory smile. Yeah, I got fleeced. There was no changing that now though, not without walking away from the deal entirely. I should have gone for forty or forty five originally, settled at fifty. ¡°The Sleeping Fortune thanks you for your patronage.¡±

    A spirit stone, I learned, as we began counting out money, was standardized in the Qin Empire as a stone of average quality weighing one one-hundredth of a catty. A catty was within the ballpark of a pound, so that put the average spirit stone at some fraction of an ounce. The result was that most spirit stones for trade were slightly smaller than a marble.

    Purchasing things with them was a painful experience. Ming An brought out a scale and a small table with a formation carved into it. I took stones out from my ring, two or three at a time, and he first placed them on the formation, which lit up one of several colors to signify the specific grade of the stone, then he weighed them on the scales. The whole thing took nearly as long as the negotiations, almost a quarter of an hour. I came out a little better than I expected, sixty spirit stones was actually only forty one of the smaller stones in my ring. I was quite curious, how much some of the bigger, more powerful stones were worth. I was paying with what looked like shiny pebbles, but my ring held some pieces of glowing glass larger than my fist.

    We finished our tea, exchanged some very generic pleasantries, and I was ushered out of the office with the fragment of a mirror ensconced in my ring. They¡¯d offered me some waxed paper with a weak preservation formation for an additional stone, but if my ring was good enough to stop time and keep jelly from rubbing off on other objects, I suspected it was more than capable of holding a low grade natural treasure.

    As I wandered out into the chaos of Xianyang, I felt aimless. No, not aimless, I had twelve hours of running, some drinks with a pair of fearless mortals, and a lesson to deliver the following day. I had an aim, a goal. But I felt disassociated. This was a strange and wonderful city, but it felt like I was viewing it through a screen, unable to touch it in any way that mattered. I didn¡¯t need food, sitting down at a restaurant felt like a dangerous indulgence in a city that housed the Heaven-Piercing Spear Sect.

    I wondered, if the feeling was a symptom of my situation, of the unseen dangers I kept trying to bumble my way through. Or if it was simply how a powerful cultivator felt, disconnected from mortality. Or, a dark thought bubbled up from the pit in the back of my mind, it was a product of the Hu Xin that was, the influence of the remnants of his mind, or perhaps his cultivation itself. I¡¯d felt so good when I fought against Wang Li. Even the farce it was, I¡¯d felt more alive than I had all week as I struggled to read his movements and block the thrusts of that spear. When he¡¯d stabbed me, beyond the pain I¡¯d felt a wild joy bubbling up inside me. When I¡¯d reached out blindly and cut the whole world around me, it had felt glorious. Like that moment, that act, had been what I was made for, the culmination of my existence.

    I breathed in, and let the feeling fill me. I smiled, a small thing only visible at the corner of my lips. Then I breathed out, and forced it away again.

    It scared me. It scared me even more than the formless fear of being discovered that made me second guess every decision. Because I¡¯d always liked the violence, even as a mortal discovering that boxing did not come as naturally to me as wrestling did, getting continually bopped in the face. Now, with the power to cut into mountains flowing through me, I loved it. And I feared what that love might bloom into, if I let it.

    I had never been a cruel man. But had I ever really had enough power that cruelty was an option before?

    As I walked down the Gold Road, I realized there was one other thing I could do here. One stop that was worth the risk of running into a city cultivator. It was amusing, how much I was suddenly looking forward to a task I¡¯d dreaded in my last life.

    I turned, making my way toward Madame Chao''s Fine Clothing.

 Chapter 19 - Of Men and Monsters

    Chen Yu paused before the doors to Princess Xifeng¡¯s chambers, steeling himself for what was to come. Before him, the masked pair of imperial guards standing at either side of the great double doors said nothing. One of them had given him a single appraising glance as he approached, before dismissing him as not a threat. The imperial guard had always unnerved him. Chen Yu had served the Qin for half his life, earning the right to take their name thrice over, if he so wished. But the imperial guard were nothing like the men he served alongside, disciplined to a degree that shamed his majesty¡¯s armies. He had no doubt they were cultivators one and all, but some artifact concealed every trace of their power. Over the years, Chen Yu thought he had met hundreds of imperial guardsmen, but in truth he wasn¡¯t sure. He¡¯d never seen more than twelve in one place, never once seen a face beneath their porcelain masks. He¡¯d never gotten a name, beyond the zodiac call signs they favored, they never deigned to speak with him beyond what was required for the execution of their duties. Such devotion was inhuman, more inhuman than any cultivator he¡¯d ever met could dream of being. He wondered, if any of them remembered him, if they¡¯d served together beneath the rising dragon. He wondered if they were laughing at his plight beneath their masks.

    Scholars were fond of saying that the reward of excellence is further labor. But Chen Yu thought there was something to be said for who one labored under. He¡¯d finally earned the eyes of the imperial family. Just not the member he¡¯d hoped for.

    Chen Yu swallowed one final time, took a deep breath, and stepped forward, past the guards. He set his hands upon the golden bars set within the door, and pushed hard. Even for a core formation cultivator, the double doors were not light. He wondered how many years of his salary they were worth, how much force they could withstand. Despite their great weight, the doors swung open silently, and he stepped into the princess¡¯s massive apartment. A small bead of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. Once, years ago, he¡¯d witnessed the teenage princess push one of the doors open with a single hand. That was the nature of this palace, every detail a reminder of the difference between heaven and earth, between imperial scions and mere mortals. The guards were almost superfluous, when foundation establishment cultivators would struggle to open the doors to the princess¡¯s chambers, even if they were left unlocked.

    Slowly, he surveyed the sitting room. It was opulent beyond the wildest dreams of the lesser nobility, and utterly devoid of personal touches. Rows of wooden columns supported the high ceiling, painted crimson and ornamented with curling golden dragons. A throne dominated the far side of the room, with two low tables set before it for receiving guests. Save for a sealed jar of wine and two cups, the tables were bare. He wondered who''d originally decorated the place. The late third consort perhaps?

    It certainly wasn¡¯t the princess, on the three previous occasions she¡¯d summoned him here, not once had she made use of it. Chen wasn¡¯t such a fool as to think that such a reception meant she held him in high esteem, or even trusted him. He suspected that such lax etiquette was simply part of how the princess handled many of her interactions with the court. It would help explain how so many noble scions had managed to lose face in foolish attempts to gain her affections, if they mistook such an intimate audience for evidence of her affection for them.

    Chen Yu, who had been born in a stable along the Gold Road, had no such misapprehensions. He was to the princess the same thing he was to every other imperial scion, a weapon to be bought.

    ¡°I thank you, for accepting my invitation, honored Captain Chen.¡± Qin Xifeng¡¯s voice did not emanate from any location he could sense, but from everywhere and nowhere. ¡°Please, join me within.¡±

    Even standing in the same realm, he couldn¡¯t sense her location. The apartment was simply too deeply steeped in her influence, the density of her qi occluding his spiritual sense as sufficiently dense steam could impede the eyes.

    ¡°Oh.¡± He paused, heart rising in his chest at the quiet exclamation. ¡°Do bring the wine.¡±

    Captain Chen complied. There was never any question he would do otherwise, here in the belly of the dragon. He wandered about the apartment, looking for the princess. Not quite aimlessly, his spiritual sense could perceive hints of the gradient of her qi¡¯s density, but he had more than a few false starts. Twice he knocked on the door to an empty closet, before peeking inside and realizing he was moving the wrong way.

    It was utterly improper, but then propriety was for those who served. The heirs of the dragon played what games they wished, so long as they did not stand in the way of the welfare of the nation. Idly, he wondered if any of the imperial guards were shadowing him now, lurking a step behind him, concealed by some other esoteric spiritual tool.

    The princess¡¯s personal chamber was a stark contrast to the reception room outside. There was a single low table to his left, adjacent to a veritable mound of blankets and furs, with a vaguely princess shaped hole in the middle of them. The table was covered with scrolls and writing tools, with half a dozen open at once. He very carefully avoided glancing at them, and turned, looking for the princess. The divan to the right was similarly devoid of royalty, as was the colossal bed dominating the center of the room. Another table held a mostly eaten meal, a bowl of mixed pickles and a few slices of smoked venison all that was left. Mundane fair, for royalty, but even the pickles emanated qi. And yet, the princess was entirely absent. One of the room¡¯s four doors was slightly ajar, and through it, he could see the shape of tiles on the floor.

    ¡°Have a pickle, if you¡¯d like.¡± Her voice whispered in his ear. Chen Yu definitely did not jump. ¡°I¡¯m further in.¡±

    Ancestors, she was really going to do this to him. If Chen Yu was going to suffer through her nonsense, he was indeed going to have that pickle. Or, rather, all the pickles. Setting the wine down, Chen Yu sat at the princess¡¯s table, and picked up her chopsticks. They were black lacquer, with golden caps at the tip. Slowly, one at a time, he finished the small bowl of pickles. They were delicious, thin slices of cabbage and carrot infused with the perfect balance of acidic tang and syrupy sweetness. As he ate, he cycled, careful not to waste the slightest trace of the immortal chef¡¯s work.

    He knew she could see him. Or, sense him somehow. He was enveloped in her qi within her domain. He took care to let his feelings show on his face, as he savored the pickles.

    He considered the venison. It was, if anything, less spiritually potent than the pickles had been. But it was still the meat of some spiritual beast, and of a quality that would strain his captain¡¯s salary to afford regularly. He could smell it from here, rich meat, woodsmoke and sea salt. But there was a limit to how far he would take this act, and finishing off the pickles was it. He left the thin slices of wine-red smoked meat where they lay.

    Resigning himself to his fate, Chen Yu walked through the open door. The first thing to hit him was the mist. It was dense and fragrant, the first breath he took in felt almost like a drink of wine as warmth spread through his chest. He could identify several of the herbal scents in the air from past experience, including Sage¡¯s Brush and Black Devil Thistle, which were used to concoct potent pills for cultivators. Idly, he wondered just how many taels of silver the princess¡¯s bath had cost the empire. In his heart of hearts, he knew he didn¡¯t really want to know. Such knowledge could only lead to envy, and it was not his place to envy the scions of Qin Longwei.

    The second thing to hit him was the sheer density of Qin Xifeng¡¯s qi within the bathroom. It was a near tangible thing, so dense that even with the steady release of medicinal qi from the water, hers was the dominant influence in the space. The qi released by the bath was hers, without even cycling it. Chen Yu would have had to fight her to even draw upon even the thinnest wisps of it. His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. Gods above, it was the early form of a  Domain. She stood at the edge of Royalty, in core formation.

    What a monster.

    All but blind, with both his mundane and spiritual senses limited to mere feet around him, Chen Yu slowly moved through the cavernous bathroom. Eventually, he found the princess.

    The center of the bathroom was filled by a colossal tub, a great bowl of tile and cement built into the room. It was wide and deep enough a dozen men could bathe together without the slightest risk of inadvertently touching each other. It was so wide, from his position at once edge, he couldn¡¯t clearly see the far side through the steam. Dragons danced in delicate blue tracery around the porcelain rim. Water rose to the very edge of the rim, dangerously close to spilling out onto the floor. And countless bundles of herbs, an entire garden dried and twined into little bundles, floated on the surface. The mass of greenery was so dense that even without the steam, it would have been impossible to see into the water.

    And in the center of the tub, a head poked up above the surface. A great mass of black hair spread wildly across the water, striking as a blot of ink spilling across paper. A pair of ice blue eyes stared up at him.

    Chen Yu schooled his face. He wouldn¡¯t laugh. He couldn¡¯t laugh. But monster or no, she looked so cute like that. Like a child pretending to be a crocodile, rather than a beauty or a monster.

    The princess blew bubbles.

    Chen Yu coughed. He definitely did not laugh.

    The princess rose, and Chen Yu instantly averted his eyes, staring at the porcelain dragons by his feet. He kept his eyes glued to the tiled floor, as he heard the sucking slap of wet feet against tile. He let out a breath he didn¡¯t know he was holding in, when he finally heard the rustling of silk.

    He continued staring downwards, until a flash of blue silk finally graced his peripheral vision. Princess Xifeng sat down on the edge of the bath, and put her feet back in the water. Even as its edges floated in the water, her plain blue robe simply refused to get wet, the product of some immortal tailor¡¯s labor.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always found, I do my best thinking in the bath.¡± The princess said, not even turning to address him.

    ¡°Princess, this is grievously improper. I would greatly prefer if any future meetings were held in a more formal setting.¡±

    ¡°Pour me some wine.¡± The princess commanded, completely ignoring him.

    Chen Yu did as he was bid. Idly, he wondered if Qin Guo would have had their first official meeting in the bathtub.

    He handed her a cup of the potent spiritual wine, and she drained it in a single gulp.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really a fan of this stuff.¡± She said idly. ¡°Too bitter. I drink it mostly for the qi. Another, if you please.¡±

    Chen Yu poured.

    ¡°Actually, just give me the jar.¡±

    Chen Yu handed her the jar. She placed it by her side.

    ¡°Anyway, Maoshe loves it. He always says that I have the palate of a hummingbird.¡±

    The princess overturned her cup, letting the wine spill out towards the bathtub. Just before wine touched water, a gap emerged between the herbs. With a flash of pink and white, an open maw appeared between the bundles of greenery, just beneath the stream of wine. As wine poured into the open mouth, the princesses'' other hand darted down, grabbing the body beneath before it¡¯d even finished catching the stream of alcohol.

    There was a high pitched squeak of protest, as a vibrant blue serpent thrashed in Qin Xifeng¡¯s grip.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡± She said, as she stuffed the diminutive dragon into the half empty jar of wine. The protests immediately quieted. ¡°I suppose we should get down to business.¡±

    Princess Xifeng breathed in, and the medicinal qi saturating the air flowed towards her like water down an open drain. Power flowed into her without cease, as if her dantian were a bottomless pit. She continued to draw the breath long after a mortal¡¯s lungs would have been full, until the bathroom was filled with mundane steam, and nothing else. Even the plants themselves looked grayer than they had a moment ago, drained of something vital.

    She exhaled, a quiet breath that carried no trace of the colossal volume of qi she¡¯d taken in.

    ¡°I am not your first choice.¡± The princess said quietly.

    ¡°No, your highness.¡± Chen Yu replied honestly. If the princess wished to flout propriety, honesty was a far more comfortable form of transgression for him.

    ¡°You favored my brother.¡±

    ¡°I had the honor of serving under the Rising Dragon in the first war with Shan, yes.¡±

    ¡°Tell me, what did you think of him?¡±

    ¡°He is a mighty warrior, and a suitable crown prince. The very image of his father at his age.¡±

    ¡°Yes, he is. He is noble. He is honorable. He is powerful. His men love him. Father trusts him.¡± She laughed, and Chen Yu was shocked to hear no trace of bitterness in it, at being passed over for the throne before she was even born. ¡°But tell me, honorable Captain Chen. Do you think he can win?¡±

    Chen Yu fell silent. It was not often that someone voiced the fear that lurked at the back of the minds of every noble and soldier in the empire.

    ¡°I think that save for his imperial majesty, Qin Guo stands the best chance of leading us to victory against the Shan.¡±

    ¡°Yes, save for his imperial majesty, he is our best choice. A fine way to phrase it. Let us be honest with each other. If my father dies before Shan Huizong ascends, we are lost.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°And so, you would seek to serve Qin Guo, to lend your strength to his cause, to forge for him the best chance at victory, however slim.¡±

    ¡°I would.¡±

    ¡°You expect to die for the dream of Qin Longwei.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°I have no interest in dying for my father¡¯s dream. Instead, I intend to kill for it.¡±

    ¡°Easy words to say, for one who has never seen war.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Princess Xifeng said with a laugh. She turned to face him now, and in her ice blue eyes, he saw a terrible surety. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Only a fool thinks their experience at losing wars makes them the sole authority on how to win one. Every storied general is one loss away from being relegated to a cautionary tale, every untried commander one impossible victory away from becoming a legend.

    ¡°My brother has accepted his fate. He does not admit it to himself, but he has accepted that our salvation hinges on my father ascending, or outlasting Shan Huizong¡¯s pact. I have not.¡±

    ¡°I admire your confidence.¡± Chen Yu said honestly. ¡°But I don¡¯t see a path to victory here that does not run through Qin Longwei.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t either. Not yet.¡± The jar of wine rattled, and Princess Xifeng stilled it with her elbow. ¡°Shush, Maoshe. Too long, I have allowed myself to live as a caged bird. Father thought that the most good I might do for the empire would be in the form of a political marriage. It might have worked, if I were born earlier. But none who matter will bind their fate to ours unless Qin Longwei outlasts Shan Huizong, or ascends to immortality. My own value is nothing in comparison to such a risk.¡±

    ¡°So you intend to simply win the war?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Or extend my father¡¯s life. Or find another immortal to check Shan Huizong. Or force sufficient material losses upon the Shan that even without Qin Longwei to match them, conquering Qin becomes logistically impossible within Shan Huizong¡¯s remaining years on the earth. We have victory conditions. But throwing more men at the southern front isn¡¯t one of them.¡±

    Despite his misgivings, Chen Yu found himself intrigued. He didn¡¯t share the princess¡¯s optimism, but she had more steel in her spine than he¡¯d expected. He didn¡¯t think there was a miracle solution to their dilemma. But if her star rose in court, it would mean another powerful voice to push through reforms that might truly make a difference, like forcing the clans to fully mobilize, or suborning the sects.

    ¡°I will not throw my life away on a futile dream.¡± He finally said.

    ¡°You decided to throw your lot in with mine the moment you accepted my invitation. Everything else has been us taking each other¡¯s measure. Fear not, I have the perfect way to ensure that I will not spend your life in vain.¡±

    Chen Yu did not like the sound of that.

    ¡°Has the Ministry of War given you your commission?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. You will recruit an independent detachment for me. A century, with the standard one to nine enlisted ratio. Favor those you know to be personally loyal to you, or to have potential, over those with higher cultivations. You will take one of the imperial guards with you, their presence should be enough to see anyone you wish to recruit reassigned without invoking my name.¡±

    ¡°A hundred men would strain my ability to empower. Under the commission I was granted, I don¡¯t have the authority to recruit a second core formation cultivator.¡±

    ¡°One won¡¯t be necessary. I will be accompanying you.¡±

    Chen Yu¡¯s stomach churned. That was what she meant. She intended to take to the field herself. Sure, it meant she wouldn¡¯t dispose of him wastefully, but there would be nowhere on the continent he might flee, if he lost the princess.

    ¡°Has his imperial majesty approved this?¡± He asked, knowing the answer.

    ¡°He has not forbidden it. I am a full member of the imperial family. I do not need my brother or father¡¯s permission. If the Rising Dragon¡¯s crab generals object, I will remind them of their oaths to the line of Qin Longwei.¡±

    He could take this to Qin Guo, and through him, to the emperor. But even if he succeeded, it gained him nothing, except an escape from this duty, and the princess¡¯s eternal enmity. Princess Xifeng was no political rival it benefited Qin Guo to check, not yet. He could not rely on the crown prince''s gratitude in that eventuality, even if the emperor forbade the mission. He could kiss any chance of political influence or an independent command goodbye.

    ¡°Before I agree to this hare-brained scheme, what exactly do you need an independent command for?¡±

    ¡°Two weeks ago, an inner disciple of the Heaven-Piercing Spear stole a spear that used to belong to my father. After the unification, he passed it down to one Zang Tengfei, who recently passed it on to his own nephew. The Heaven-Piercing Spear has thus far failed to recover the weapon.¡±

    ¡°You intend to return it?¡±

    ¡°Not particularly. Not without concessions. But it¡¯s a good start to building an independent power base. A theft that offends the emperor¡¯s honor, but not so directly that the imperial guard would handle it. A weapon that could serve in your hands, or be sold back to the sect. A noble deed that could be flaunted before the court. A thief with a promising background who might be suborned to my service.¡±

    It was a solid plan. The reasoning was laid out cleanly, and Chen Yu could see no obvious fault in it. It would be a promising beginning to their partnership, if of course, the two of them could deliver on it. The weapon would not end up in his hands. He knew how the game was played, it was too valuable a piece on the board. But even without the enticement, it was a promising beginning. His name attached as the second in command to such a deed would go far towards ensuring his ability to keep his command if he separated from the princess. He could work with this.

    ¡°I like that you stopped for the pickles.¡± The princess said suddenly, before he could respond. ¡°Too many of my servants are cowards, unable to grasp something when it¡¯s held out to them, let alone seize real fortune.¡±

    Chen Yu thought the princess judged her servants too harshly. The daughter of an emperor had many chances at fortune, guaranteed luxury even in modest disgrace. A soldier or maid could overextend but once, and lose their head for it.

    ¡°I understand my place beneath the heavens.¡± Chen Yu finally said. ¡°My duty is to serve the Empire of Qin, at the command of the line of Qin Longwei.¡±

    ¡°Oh, little captain. I don¡¯t understand my place beneath the heavens. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard plenty from the court. The arrogant, prodigal daughter whose talent earned her a place amongst the glass flowers, until she offended the mistress of the sect. The hateful shrew whose tremendous talent was not incentive enough to see her married. The spiteful princess who thinks she should have been born a man.¡±

    Princess Xifeng turned back to face him again, and this time, she smiled. It was a radiant, happy thing that did not suit the heavy conversation.

    ¡°By the time I¡¯m through with you, you won¡¯t understand your position beneath them either. And you¡¯ll be better for it. Now, go forth, you have a century to recruit.¡±

    Chen Yu obeyed.

 Chapter 20 - Rice Wine

    Truth be told, I didn¡¯t really expect mortal rice wine to be able to get me drunk. It was generally a constant in cultivation stories that you needed spiritual rice wine to get cultivators properly intoxicated. Mortal alcohol might work at lower realms, but definitely not by core formation. All the same, I was a little disappointed. Despite the odds, I¡¯d held out hope.

    It wasn¡¯t totally ineffectual. But that almost made it worse. I could feel the buzz, in the distance, just out of reach. It was that pleasant feeling, when you¡¯ve had your first couple of sips of something strong, and there¡¯s the barest hint of a headrush. But then it never advanced further, it just faded away. I never got to the proper buzz. I¡¯d throw back a saucer of ¡®wine¡¯ that was probably at least seventy proof, feel the burn, feel it just begin to hit me, and then my body would neutralize the poison within me. It was the worst sort of tease.

    I had been consoling myself all night with the thought that even though I couldn¡¯t get drunk, at least it meant it¡¯d be harder to poison me. It was cold comfort, worn thin by overuse. I sighed, and shot back another round. I was going saucer for saucer with Qin Wenyan and Zhao Xue, who were already quite drunk. I couldn¡¯t drink more. It wouldn¡¯t be polite to hog Wenyan¡¯s booze when it was doing so little for me.

    ¡°Hongyan¡¯s piss but you can hold your drink.¡± Qin Wenyan slurred. ¡°Have another!¡±

    I pulled my cup back, effortlessly dodging the bottle before he could refill it.

    ¡°My tolerance isn¡¯t your problem.¡±

    The bottle tipped dangerously above my new robes, threatening to spill the opaque, tan, rice wine all over my favorite set, pale lavender silk with subtle dark purple designs that looked like abstract clouds. I relented, and stopped zipping my hand around, allowing Qin Wenyan to refill my saucer.

    I sipped this one, he¡¯d just refill it again if I shot it back. It wasn¡¯t what I¡¯d call good, but I couldn¡¯t say it was bad either. It was interesting, earthier and more bitter than a modern sake or soju. Part of the earthiness was definitely just the taste of rice starch, I was pretty sure the fermentation wasn¡¯t finished. Overall, it was far from my favorite, nowhere near sweet enough for my usual tastes, but I couldn¡¯t say I minded it. But then, I¡¯d always been a loyal fan of the 11 dollar a handle Polish potato vodka I¡¯d first tried in college, perhaps I just had no taste.

    ¡°Hongyan¡¯s piss?¡± I asked, curious.

    ¡°Cause, y¡¯know, there¡¯d be a lot of it. If she pissed on ya. Dragon that big must tinkle hard enough to flood a river.¡± He replied.

    Zhao Xue, who was swaying back and forth like a metronome now, snorted hard enough to almost spill his wine.

    ¡°Wenyan!¡±

    ¡°What? There¡¯s no girls here. I can talk about dragons tinkling.¡±

    ¡°Pretty sure you¡¯re not supposed to talk about piss with cultivator¡¯s either.¡± Zhao Xue said.

    ¡°Does that make cultivators count as girls for the purposes of drinking?¡± Qin Wenyan mused from the safety of his living room. ¡°Does that make them all fairies?¡±

    Neither I nor Zhao Xue dignified that with a response.

    ¡°That¡¯s a silly rule, anyway.¡± He continued undeterred. ¡°Shit, women piss. Dragons piss. I bet fairies piss too.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t.¡± I said quietly. ¡°Not if they¡¯ve risen high enough. There¡¯s no need to piss if you don¡¯t drink anything.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Qin Wenyan exclaimed. ¡°Well then they should just drink anyway shouldn¡¯t they? A good drink is worth the piss, even if they don¡¯t need water no more.¡±

    ¡°Even then, it gets fuzzy. The body holds water better than it should. Releases less than it takes in. Many drink nothing except tea on social occasions, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they never visit a bathroom.¡±

    There was an invitation there, perhaps. Or at least an opening. To ask again how high I¡¯d climbed, to know this little fact. I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d answer, or what I¡¯d say if I did. Qin Wenyan at least understood how high the climb went. What it meant, for someone to be in core formation, or beyond it. It was one thing, to know I was a cultivator, a real one, not a former soldier with a handful of small realms under his belt like him. It was another to realize that I was the elder of a sect, at least in core formation, easily powerful enough to level a town, or change the course of a battle on my own. There was a distance there, a gulf in perspective wider than any I¡¯d seen in my last life, that even the brotherhood of the cups could not easily overcome.

    ¡°You know, I didn¡¯t really expect you to come back.¡± He said instead. ¡°Twas more than passing strange you stopped by our town in the first place. We don¡¯t get real cultivators in Xiamen, not often. Damn near shit myself when I felt you approaching. Thought the Shan had sent someone behind the lines, to burn the countryside.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure I would either honestly. I wanted to, but I wasn¡¯t sure it was prudent.¡±

    ¡°Prudent?¡± He snorted. ¡°What¡¯s prudence matter to a man like you? It ain¡¯t prudence that keeps cultivators from bothering with fireflies like us. If you wanted to, why would you let prudence stop you?¡±

    ¡°Even for a man like me, there are threats it is not prudent to advertise my presence to. Perhaps an example would better explain. Just last night, a few hours after I passed Xiamen, I met a man on the road. We fought, for a reason as banal as it is irrelevant. I triumphed, but he was far from weak.¡±

    I paused.

    ¡°Even the false name I have given you, is not safe to spread widely. For if he ever heard it, and wandered here, it might mean disaster. I do not think he is that craven, but I cannot say I am certain. Chaos follows in my wake.

    ¡°It is imprudent to sow ties of karma with someone who might be endangered by the destruction that dogs me.¡± I explained, paraphrasing my fear in a way congruent with my mask.

    ¡°That¡¯s a whole cow worth of shit.¡± Zhao Xue said. ¡°As if we didn¡¯t already know that if another cultivator wanders into town, we¡¯d best not mention hide nor hair about you being here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been living in the shadow of the mighty my whole life.¡± Qin Wenyan scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be taught how to better scramble between their feet.¡±

    ¡°Young as we might be to you, we¡¯re grown men. You can trust us to handle our own confidences.¡± Zhao Xue continued, indignant.

    I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not my confidence I¡¯m concerned for, but your lives.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not much of a life to worry over.¡± Zhao Xue said, leaning back against the wall. ¡°Seeing the end so close makes it easy to be righteous. Perhaps ¡±

    ¡°And this old soldier still has a few tricks left in him.¡± Qin Wenyan added boisterously. ¡°I¡¯ve seen even sect elders laid low by trickery and massed fire. If any demon dogs your steps, he¡¯ll find more than he bargained for blundering about his majesty¡¯s domain.¡±

    I sighed again. ¡°We¡¯ll have to agree to disagree. I trust your honor and competence, enough that I sit here with you. But three can keep secrets when two are dead, and I much prefer the pair of you among the living. Let¡¯s talk about something less dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Three can keep secrets when two are dead. I like that.¡± Zhao Xue said. ¡°Fine then. Let¡¯s talk about the weather, like the old men we are. Brother Wenyan, how are your preparations for winter going?¡±

    ¡°Why, brother Zhao, they are proceeding as smoothly as the finest silk.¡± Qin Wenyan replied with exaggerated enthusiasm. ¡°I¡¯ve completed my harvest, and begun drying my grain for the coming season. My garlic is dried and my root cellar stocked to the brim. I¡¯ve tried several new recipes for pickles, and I am most excited about my new sweet pickled eggs. I¡¯ve even convinced Old Yang to let me use one of his vats to try my hand at making my own rice wine!¡±

    He turned to me, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

    ¡°Why, brother Fang, what have you been doing in preparation for winter? Are you concerned about the changing seasons?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s funny. My own duties are rather divorced from the seasons. The cold doesn¡¯t touch me as it did when I was mortal. But I¡¯ve always liked the bleakest of days. When air is dry and the wind runs fast, when the cold is sharp enough to crack the skin and draw blood. When a tomb of ice pulls limbs from trees, and the mud freezes hard. Rarely do I feel more alive, then when the world is at its least hospitable.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Qin Wenyan said. ¡°Personally, I prefer to sit inside on such days, and drink.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not bad either.¡± I allowed.

    ¡°Ah, but the gods haven¡¯t crafted a day you wouldn¡¯t prefer to spend sitting inside and drinking.¡± Zhao Xue added.

    ¡°Hey! On beautiful summer days, I sit outside and drink.¡± Qin Wenyan retorted. He closed his eyes for a moment, and exhaled. ¡°I know that I drink too much, brother Zhao. Hells below, but you do too. You can stop bringing it up every day.¡±

    Zhao Xue began to say something, but Qin Wenyan continued speaking over him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never shied away from my duty. I faced fire and steel without fear. I labored from dawn to dusk for years without complaint. I built up this house from nothing. My family never lacked for food or clothing. Is it a crime that I would rather face the day with a little wine?¡±

    Zhao Xue sighed. In its wake, the silence grew heavy. I doubted this was the first time they¡¯d had this argument.

    ¡°Brother Wenyan, I drown myself because I have lost everything. I do not want company in my misery so desperately I would see you do the same.¡± He said slowly.

    The two of them sat quietly, pointedly not quite looking at each other. I too, looked away, casting my vision about the house, so I had an excuse not to meet their eyes. It was a functional place, with the common two room setup you often saw in cottages. One great room, with the hearth and a table, and a small secondary room for when you needed privacy. For three, it would have been tight, but for one, I had no doubt it was lonely. It was not a very homey place, not anymore. I could still see the marks from where a rug had once lain, the scuff marks from where a wardrobe had been dragged. Qin Wenyan¡¯s spare clothes were piled into a wicker basket in the corner. It was less a home, than the corpse of one.

    ¡°What about you?¡± Zhao Xue finally said, breaking the silence. ¡°Oh stranger in the company of a pair of drunkards?¡±

    There was a question there, but for the life of me I wasn¡¯t sure what he was asking. If I was an alcoholic? Why I was here with them drinking?

    ¡°I never had an issue handling my drink as a mortal. No shortage of examples in the family of what happened to you if you drank too much. Never really got into spiritual wine, as a cultivator. Seems like an expensive habit to keep up. But tonight, I find myself wishing I had some. I don¡¯t want to drown my sorrows, but to forget them for a night does not sound unpleasant.¡±

    Sometimes, you didn¡¯t need to understand a question to answer it. Another memory flashed through my mind, sitting by a fire in the Oklahoma woods with my father. Chicken and apple sausages, and a talk that had gone long into the night. Him sipping his Johnny Walker, as I struggled to roast individual pieces of chocolate over the fire without letting them fall into the coals. I¡¯d gotten tired of marshmallows and graham crackers, so in my young mind the only logical thing to do was to stick a single hershey''s rectangle on the end of my stick and try to melt the whole thing without letting it drip.

    I quashed the memory.

    ¡°Hah. If only it were so easy. I¡¯ve never had a sip of a drink I didn¡¯t want to finish. Can¡¯t say I¡¯d mind a sip of spiritual wine.¡± Qin Wenyan said thoughtfully. ¡°I can see why it¡¯s a trap though. Few things sound more appealing than getting drunk and feeding your cultivation at the same time.¡±

    ¡°If I ever purchase some, I¡¯ll be sure to swing by and share it with you. I wouldn¡¯t mind learning to make it myself, but I don¡¯t think I can. I¡¯ve always found brewing and fermentation interesting, but only ever dabbled in it.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Zhao Xue asked. ¡°What¡¯s stopping you?¡±

    ¡°My duties don''t lend themselves to a predictable schedule. I might be called away for weeks or months at a time without warning. I suppose I could work around it, find an assistant that could be trusted to manage the fermentation, but at that point, I might as well just buy it.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    It wasn''t the real reason, but it was a reason.

    ¡°Do you enjoy them, these mysterious duties of yours?¡± Qin Wenyan asked, staring intently at me. I wondered how serious he was about truly pursuing cultivation again, and if I should encourage or discourage him. Or if it was even my place to have an opinion on it. My immediate reaction was that it was simply wrong for a man to leave his family behind, but I didn¡¯t know the details of his circumstances. Would it really be better for them, if he continued to wallow here, working hard enough to get by, drinking himself to death? I didn¡¯t know exactly how military pensions worked, but from how organized the empire was, I doubt they lacked a death benefit.

    ¡°Less than I once did, I think. When I was a younger man, I found the thought of being a swordsman without peer appealing. Almost all men do, I think, at least for a time. I walked that road farther than most. There''s an appealing sort of simplicity to it, I suppose. There¡¯s a saying in my homeland; when all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. The sword engenders a similar sort of problem solving.¡±

    ¡°But something changed?¡± Zhao Xue asked, shifting away from the wall he¡¯d been leaning against.

    ¡°I find that I am not the same person I was a few years ago. So much of the bloodshed just seems pointless now.¡±

    It grated, that every other word out of my mouth was a lie. Talking about when I was mortal as if it were centuries ago, not days. Omitting why exactly I¡¯d never tried spiritual wine. Speaking about my duties as if I¡¯d ever performed them. Even here, among mortals, I was Elder Hu Xin. Or rather, Elder Hu Xin pretending to be Fang Tao. Even simple honesty about my feelings had to be couched in falsehood, to weave a historical narrative that was plausible. I hated how easy it was starting to come to me.

    At least, with these two men, I could be honest about the fact that I was lying about my identity. Even if I was lying about why.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just stop then?¡± Qin Wenyan asked. ¡°What are they gonna do, fight you over it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve considered it. But rising higher doesn¡¯t always mean you¡¯re freer. I matter now, in ways that I didn¡¯t before. It¡¯s one thing for a mortal to desert an army. You¡¯re one man among thousands, there¡¯s only so much the state can care. For a sufficiently powerful cultivator, that changes. Even I have a superior, no matter how high you rise there¡¯s always someone stronger than you out there. I might be able to get away with it, if I traded one master for another, or ran far enough. But he also might just chase me to the ends of the earth. I suspect his techniques make distance less of a concern than it might be for the rest of us.¡±

    There was silence again, as they processed that. Thought about what it might look like, for someone¡¯s talents to make distance a non factor. Meng Xiao scared me. I still didn¡¯t know if the pocket dimension the sect existed in was something he¡¯d found, and squatted in, or if he was simply powerful enough to bend space like that. Could he track me through shadows, or listen in on conversations anywhere in his domain? It was paranoia talking, but when you had little information to reason on, paranoia was a most persuasive speaker. In many ways, this little trip had been something of a trial run, for leaving the sect. Gathering information so that if I did need to make that call, it wouldn¡¯t be totally blind.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re not making achieving foundation establishment sound all that appealing right now.¡± Qin Wenyan finally said. ¡°All the same problems, and you can¡¯t drink mortal wine anymore.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it has its perks.¡± I smiled. ¡°I still remember how frail a fully mortal body feels in comparison. Even if you completely ignore the benefits of longevity and power, the improvements to your health alone are worth it. Never suffering a runny nose or lingering cough again, never waking with strange aches. Sure, I can¡¯t easily get drunk. But I don¡¯t get hungover either.¡±

    ¡°Hah! You¡¯re telling me this!¡± Zhao Xue said, rubbing his lower back. ¡°I should be the one reminding you what you¡¯ve got. These old bones are going to be mighty stiff come morning.¡± He turned to Qin Wenyan. ¡°Well, stop acting like a young girl at her first dance and spit it out already.¡±

    Qin Wenyan¡¯s face turned red. Or, redder, rather. He was already quite flush from the drink, now he looked like a tomato as he struggled to find an excuse to avoid my eyes.

    ¡°Right then.¡± He said, visibly mustering up his nerve. ¡°Look. I¡¯ve been thinking, this last day. I know you said you don¡¯t go around announcing yourself all pompous like because you don¡¯t like people asking you for things. So, don¡¯t feel obligated to help me if you don¡¯t want to. What am I saying, you, feel obligated. Obviously you don¡¯t have to do anything.¡±

    ¡°Spit it out, man.¡± Zhao Xue laughed. Both men were red as tomatoes now. Zhao Xue reminded me of a pink jack-o-lantern in this moment, with his nearly bald head, missing tooth, and great wide smile. ¡°You¡¯d think you¡¯re asking permission to give his daughter a courting gift.¡±

    ¡°Fucking fine.¡± Qin Wenyan grit out. ¡°I want to make foundation establishment before I die. There. I said it. You¡¯ve clearly done it, I was hoping you could tell me what I¡¯m doing wrong, why I¡¯m stuck in the mud.¡±

    There it was. The elephant in the room. Or, one of them. Frankly we were dancing around a whole bunch of issues here, us three sad sops. I took a sip of my drink as I thought. There were a lot of reasons to turn him down. My own limited and uncertain knowledge. His family, however broken. But was it my place to make those judgements for him? In stories, cultivators talked a lot about sowing karma with others by teaching them. As a child of the modern world, that never resonated with me. It was trite to say that information should be free. But trite or no, I generally believed it. My mind was wandering. I already knew what I was going to do, I was just trying to justify it to myself, because I was afraid it might lead him down a self-destructive road.

    He had been friendly. To speak cost me nothing. His fate was his own. All these things felt hollow, when everything I¡¯d learned suggested that the best way for him to achieve his goal would be to throw himself back into war, because no sect would take him at his age. All the same, if I¡¯d been in his shoes, I would want to know.

    ¡°Before I talk about this, I need you to understand something.¡± I said slowly. ¡°That someone has risen high doesn¡¯t mean they understand the process of cultivation fully, even for realms they¡¯ve long since passed. It just means they understood their own road well enough to walk it. What I¡¯m about to share with you are the general truths about the stage I¡¯ve gathered from reading between the lines of a hundred manuals.¡±

    ¡°I see, it¡¯s been so long since you were a lowly qi condensation cultivator you¡¯ve completely forgotten it.¡± Qin Wenyan joked.

    I frowned. While ironically that was in a way completely true, given that I did have no memories of it, it was also totally missing the point.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t false modesty. Even if you could replicate it, you cannot assume what worked for me would work for you. If you would walk this road, you can¡¯t trust anyone else¡¯s word, not completely. Blind faith makes it all too easy to end up in a dead end, or worse.¡±

    ¡°I get it, you¡¯re worried about sowing bad karma and all that.¡± He said, staring at me with clear eyes, despite his impressive level of intoxication. ¡°Look, you don¡¯t own my failures. I do. Your advice can¡¯t be any worse than Zhao Xue¡¯s.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t just trying to get him to take my advice with a grain of salt. If there was one thing that I was sure of, from reading all those manuals, it was that you couldn¡¯t just blindly follow any of them. Some required certain resources, others a particular kind of person or place. The world¡¯s most legendary Abyssal Yin Sword Sutra would be virtually useless to a pacifist man with a yang heavy constitution who lived far inland.

    ¡°Let¡¯s approach this from a different direction. What¡¯s your current cultivation routine like?¡±

    ¡°Well, I wake up in the morning, and I cultivate for an hour. I cycle like the sergeant taught me. It feels pointless now though, like I''m spinning a mill but there''s nothing to grind.¡±

    That felt right, if his cultivation method wasn''t suited for his surroundings.

    ¡°Do you know the name of the cultivation method the sergeant taught you?¡±

    ¡°He never gave me no manual, an enlisted man isn''t worth paper, just beat the steps into me until I could recite them in my sleep. He called it the Ninefold Iron March.¡±

    I nodded, as if that meant anything to me. Was that nine signifying it had nine stages per realm, or something to do with multiple people being required? That would fit for a soldier. Did the iron part signify weapon qi? Was it optimized for a soldier''s nomadic life?

    ¡°Are you sober enough to cycle for me?¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Qin Wenyan roared. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t able to cycle drunk, Sergeant Chen would have drummed me out of the unit before I ever made the third stage.¡± He shuddered. ¡°Or worse, he might¡¯ve forbidden me from drinking.¡±

    Immediately, he straightened up and closed his eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Zhao Xue smiling at the pair of us. I ignored the cheeky old shit, and focused on my own spiritual senses. I¡¯d been nearly blind to them at first, but I was slowly beginning to wrap my head around them. It was the way that those senses weren¡¯t some sort of separate thing that had tripped me up. I¡¯d grown up on urban fantasy stories about the Sight, and I¡¯d expected a cultivator¡¯s spiritual sense to be something similar, like another way of looking, a view into another layer of reality. Now, my current hypothesis was that spiritual sense was less like seeing, and more like feeling, extending an intangible part of yourself beyond your skin.

    As Qin Wenyan began cycling, I closed my eyes and let myself start leaking. That was how it felt, within the body, it felt like qi moved like a fluid, driven by forces like pressure and rotation. But outside of it, it orbited like satellites around a star, or perhaps like an atmosphere around a planet. It was bound to me, no, more than that, it was part of me. But by slowing the rate at which it spun, and the force with which I clung to it, I could allow it to seep out into the world around me.

    I¡¯d figured that out during the fight with Wang Li, when the shock of being stabbed had jolted me out of the metaphysical posture of tight control I¡¯d been in since arriving. Though, this usage was a lot less violent than the one I¡¯d subjected that idiot to. It wasn¡¯t a pulse, a wave of power pushed out of me, like the ones I¡¯d used before to silence crowds. Instead, my power suffused the space around me, coexisting with the ambient qi without affecting it. Absent the dedicated motions of a cycling pattern, the two flowing masses of qi simply existed in the same place, neither¡¯s movement influencing the others. Or, perhaps it was my own qi that did not affect the environment? Because when mine was out, I could feel the flows of ambient qi, sense them moving through the field of energy I was exuding.

    I wasn¡¯t certain that this is what cultivators meant when they said spiritual sense, but I definitely felt I was on the right track.

    I allowed my qi-field to envelope Qin Wenyan, and felt almost exactly what I¡¯d expected. What I¡¯d feared. I could feel traces of vibrations from him, a gentle breeze that could not hope to budge the steel storm that was my own qi. But like my own power, it wasn¡¯t interacting with the environmental qi. Every so often, he captured tiny wisps of power, but most of it wasn¡¯t even pulled into his cycling to later escape, it simply didn¡¯t resonate with his cultivation method at all. As he¡¯d said, the wheel was turning, but there was nothing there to grind.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± I said. ¡°You can stop now.¡±

    Qin Wenyan opened his eyes, staring expectantly at me.

    ¡°How much did your sergeant tell you about the mechanics of cultivation?¡±

    Qin Wenyan kept staring at me. Then, he started laughing. Slowly, his chuckles grew into great belly laughs, and Zhao Xue and I were drawn inexorably in, despite having no idea what we were laughing about.

    When we all quieted down, he finally explained.

    ¡°Sergeant Chen was an excellent sergeant. That means he made sure I made sure he beat the Ninefold Iron March into our thick skulls. He said it was a good method for a soldier, that he''d followed it all the way into foundation establishment. He answered questions, as best he could. But a soldier isn¡¯t a cultivator. We don¡¯t get pills, or lessons. They teach us a method, and we count ourselves lucky if we can rise a few small realms between the marching and the fighting. I doubt he was told any more than we were, anything else he learned on his own.¡±

    That explained some things.

    ¡°Well,¡± I began. ¡°I don¡¯t think he was wrong about that. It probably is a good method for a soldier. I¡¯m not familiar with it, but if he made it to foundation establishment outside the bounds of a sect, it can¡¯t be too bad. But the problem is that it¡¯s a good method for a soldier, and you¡¯re not one anymore.¡±

    Much of what I was about to explain I¡¯d learned from reading between the lines of the manuals in the repository. I was still very far away from any kind of working theory of how to determine which cycling patterns affected which sorts of qi, but I was getting more and more confident in my understanding of the basic principles, at least at the qi condensation level. Being the first, that realm had been climbed more times, and in more different ways, than any other. As a result, manuals had far more useful things to say about the actual rules of the process than they did for the later stages.

    ¡°In qi condensation,¡± I continued. ¡°A cultivator works to draw qi in from the surrounding world, and make it their own. The end result of most manuals is the same, a growing volume of what we call true or innate qi. But cultivators write thousands of different manuals even for that first stage because different people, and different circumstances require different cycling patterns. The Ninefold Iron March needs something you¡¯re not providing it to function. I don¡¯t know the secrets of that method, but it¡¯s probably one or more things you had as a soldier but are missing from your life now. It might be comrades, or regular martial practice, or even the daily marching.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I need a new cultivation method.¡± His head sank a little.

    ¡°It would be the cleanest solution. The problem would only get worse the higher you rose, in qi condensation, you should still be able to simply change cycling patterns without risking deviation, but that wouldn¡¯t be true if you attained foundation establishment. You might be able to make your current method work if you trained with weapons more often, or marched dozens of li on your own, but you¡¯d likely hit an even harder bottleneck eventually if you keep forcing it.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it would work for me again, if I became a soldier once more?¡± Qin Wenyan asked, his voice like that of a man awaiting sentencing. Desperate for an answer, but terrified of it.

    ¡°I think that you should change your cultivation method to suit your life, not your life to suit your cultivation method. Cultivation makes us more of what we are, to live forever as something that does not suit you is no life at all.¡±

    I didn¡¯t mention the family he would be leaving behind, or the danger he¡¯d be walking into. He knew those better than I did.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose that you have a manual that would be suitable for an old fool like me lying around in one of those rings of yours?¡± He joked shamelessly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯ll keep an eye out though.¡±

    It would be hard, in no small part because I didn¡¯t know what sort of a manual would be suitable for a man like him. Sects chose their starter methods to synergize with the wellsprings of qi they were built on top of, the methods I¡¯d seen that didn¡¯t rely on access to one of those were often built on consuming natural treasures, or even spirit stones directly, or required very particular personal characteristics. But all the same, I meant it.

    ¡°You mean that? I was just making a joke, what you¡¯ve told me already is far more than I deserve.¡±

    Before I could respond, Zhao Xue interjected.

    ¡°Enough with all this talk of cultivation. You two are making me feel like I¡¯m peeking on a girl bathing. Telling me secrets a shepherd isn¡¯t meant to know. You keep it up and I¡¯ll start puffing about like some young master.¡±

    ¡°You know.¡± I said, gears turning. ¡°There¡¯s no rule that says a young master has to actually be young. Just younger than his seniors.¡±

    ¡°No. Don¡¯t even think about it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry brother Zhao.¡± Qin Wenyan chimed in ¡°You might be a late bloomer, but I¡¯m sure one day we¡¯ll find a sect that will take you on.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡±

    I stared him dead in the eyes.

    ¡°Fear not, young master Zhao. This one would never court death by disrespecting you.¡±

    The look on his face was priceless.

 Chapter 21 - Home Sweet Sect

    I don¡¯t know why I decided to come home first. There was no reason for it. I didn¡¯t have any goods to put away. I didn¡¯t need to sleep, I already changed before entering the sect. I didn¡¯t have time to put my feet up. But all the same, it just felt right, that my first stop back in the sect would be my home. Perhaps I hoped deep down that if I treated it like home, it might become one in truth.

    Or maybe I was just a creature of habit. That seemed more likely to me.

    Still, now that I was here, I found myself disappointed. Not in the house, or in myself. But in the absolute fucking lemmings who were kowtowing before me.

    ¡°No.¡± I said preemptively.

    ¡°Honored elder-¡± One started.

    ¡°No.¡± I repeated. ¡°I chose to teach Disciple Su in spite of her habit of kowtowing outside of my door, not because of it. Spread the word that this is to cease. If you don¡¯t have the courage to knock and interrupt my cultivation, I have no interest in speaking to you. For their sake, I will hope anyone who dares knock has a good reason to.¡±

    Five men and one woman remained still as rabbits before the wolf. Sighing, I again stepped over them. It would have been awkward to turn around. I¡¯d leave out the back later. I stepped inside and shut the door, then waited a few moments. There was no knock. Good.

    To be quite honest, I didn¡¯t actually intend to cultivate in my house anyway. I needed to bite the bullet and figure out how my cultivation worked very soon, but when I did, I would definitely be doing my initial tests in the woods. It would be decidedly suboptimal to blow up my own house in some sort of sword qi gone wrong incident. I could just imagine Elder Liang staring out at me from her courtyard, as I stood in the ruins of the old Elder Hu¡¯s shredded art collection. Somehow, I didn¡¯t think I could weave lies plausible enough to survive that scenario.

    I wandered through my home, actively looking for any sort of task to be done. There was no sense putting my new clothes away, not when I owned a storage ring. I¡¯d already switched back into the sect uniform after leaving Xiamen. I still had a few hours until Su Li¡¯s next lesson, but the little shard of glass that reflected a full moon even during the day would largely cover that. Some basic grappling work would fill out the rest. As much as I didn¡¯t want the additional risk of exposure a second student represented, it might make sense to consider one. So many good wrestling drills required a partner, like sprawl and circle, and shot re-shot. Doing it myself seemed¡­ Beneath the dignity of the role I was trying to play. I would need to be careful about my choice though, I had gotten incredibly lucky with Su Li. Her particular blend of inexperience and forthrightness made her far easier for me to teach than anyone with a more formal martial background would be.

    I shook my head. I was procrastinating. I had the next lesson covered. I stared at one of the paintings on the wall as I considered the question that weighed most urgently on my mind.

    What exactly did a demonic sect look like? Corpse refinement was the obvious answer. I¡¯d never read a single story in which a demonic sect didn¡¯t have corpse refiners, or where a righteous one did. I knew Elder Li was famous for puppets. The ape I¡¯d seen him command when I¡¯d stumbled across his lecture was obviously made of wood, but I wondered if he had any more subtle models. I couldn¡¯t imagine a better cover for a puppet intended for infiltration than actual human skin.

    Perhaps I was just being paranoid? Black and red could be a perfectly innocuous color scheme. The Pathless Night was not the most obviously righteous name, but it wasn¡¯t a smoking gun either. Elder Li made himself easy to hate and suspect, But Elder Xin seemed perfectly innocuous to me. I¡¯m sure he could slit a dozen throats with a single note from his guqin, but that wasn¡¯t even demonic. Sure, Elder Liang was a sexual predator, but as sad as it was to say, that wasn¡¯t remotely demonic either. Not in a world like this.

    The sticking point though, the thing that wouldn¡¯t let me dismiss the idea, was that we weren¡¯t marked on maps. Not even our own. Every other major sect was. I¡¯d already seen hundreds of outer disciples and more than ten elders, and I suspected that wasn¡¯t even close to the full population of the sect. It didn¡¯t matter how famous Elder Hu was, an impromptu lecture with a short notice period shouldn¡¯t have gotten more than a fraction of the sect in attendance. If every elder was in core formation at minimum, even just twenty of them would make us a major regional power. Qin Wenyan had said the entire eastern army had only had thirty core formation officers.

    No matter how I turned it over, no other explanation made sense. There had to be a reason for us to keep such a low profile, instead of being the fourth great sect of the Qin Empire. I¡¯d just have to look, until I either found that reason, or something clearly demonic.

    I popped my back window open, hopped up on the sill, and hurtled out into the night like a human cannonball. That would never get old.

    I headed for the library first. Old habits died hard, and voracious reading had served me well so far. This time, I simply blew past the disciples manning the desk and walked right into the stacks. I saw a few familiar faces, but I plastered a rather unapproachable expression on my own, and simply ignored them.

    I didn¡¯t stop to read anything this time, I just looked for one very particular thing. Leather. Most of the scrolls and tomes in the repository were parchment. The majority of the books were bound with a pair of thin wooden plates as end caps, instead of the European leather covers I was more familiar with. Every time I found one, a leather bound book, or more rarely, a scroll written directly on leather or vellum, my heart began to beat faster. Every time, as I flipped it open, and skimmed, I relaxed as the contents proved mundane. Or, mundane for the contents of the repository. Herbal compendiums, manuals of sword forms, or instructions to divine the future in bones or yarrow stalks.

    Each time, I left relatively certain that the leather binding of the book was not human skin.

    It was a bit of an urban myth that human leather looked special. Properly treated, it didn¡¯t really. It was usually a little thinner than cow leather, but if it was properly stretched, treated, and dyed, it just looked like any other high quality leather. I¡¯d googled some rather macabre subjects in my day, and it''s always stuck with me just how normal many of the surviving books bound in human skin looked. Really, when you stripped away all the hairs or scales, got right to the meat of the matter, skin was skin.

    Eventually, I found one that looked a little suspect. Heart in my throat, my fingers danced through the soft vellum pages. In less than a minute, my eyes devoured the foreword and introduction.

    I felt so many things at once, worried, frustrated, and darkly intrigued.

    Buried deep in the stacks, I¡¯d found a bonafide blood aspected spiritual cultivation manual. For pacifists.

    It was written by a man who called himself the Sage of the Bleeding Heart. Or, perhaps, the Sage of the Heart that Bled. The translation wasn¡¯t an exact thing, but the same meaning was there. The introduction was almost self-effacing, all but proclaiming his manual to be a failure. It was a challenge and warning in one. The manual cultivated blood qi, but its cycling method was designed to cultivate the blood qi the heart of the cultivator produced. It was apparently slow, wildly complex, and could cause a variety of physical illnesses, but it required no dragon vein or natural treasures at all.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The foreword stated plainly that it was an attempt at a blood cultivation method that did not require slaughter to advance. But a failure, because it functionally bottlenecked itself at the late stages of foundation establishment. The volume of qi that could be pulled from the body was simply too low to surmount the core formation bottleneck. The Sage claimed he himself had shifted to a different, demonic, blood method to form his core; and warned any prospective users they would need to either dissipate their cultivation, or do the same.

    Was it demonic? Evil? A failure? A trap? I wasn¡¯t sure. It was simply a work too far beyond my understanding for me to pass judgment on. I could see the dream behind it, an answer to the endless struggle over resources that defined much of cultivation.

    Was the leather binding human skin? I ran my fingers along it, looking in vain for a sign. The leather was incredibly smooth, a pale cream color without wrinkles or blemishes. I considered enveloping it in my spiritual sense, attempting some sort of amateur psychometry, but I didn¡¯t truly want to know.

    I passed it into my storage ring. I¡¯d gotten away with it before. The book struck me as either the sort of hazardous dark secret that might lurk in a forgotten corner of a righteous sect¡¯s library, or the sort of thing demons would consider innocuous. If we had a second, more secure, library, filled with demonic techniques this seemed like exactly the sort of thing that wouldn¡¯t quite need to be stored there. It was incredibly frustrating, how perfectly vague a sign it was.

    And I would be lying, if I said a truly self-sufficient cultivation technique wasn¡¯t an interesting idea. It was useless to me unless I dissipated my cultivation, which was absolutely not an option. The same probably applied for Qin Wenyan. But it seemed like a potentially worthwhile research project, and I had a lot of free time these days. Living the schedule of a cultivator without actually spending eighteen hours a day cultivating left a lot of empty time slots.

    After that, I left the library. I¡¯d spent an hour poring through the stacks, and hadn¡¯t found anything. I didn¡¯t think a second one would change that, it was time for a different tact. Thus far, I¡¯d primarily confined my roaming to a relatively narrow part of the sect.

    I¡¯d awoke on a mountain. I¡¯d followed a road, lurked and listened, deduced the exit to the sect lay at the base of the mountain. And then I¡¯d left the sect. Simple, easy, obvious. And yet, when I stood outside the Repository and stared outwards, the mountain I stood upon was not the only one within the bounds of the pocket realm. Below me, land stretched out into the distance, slowly disappearing into the misty white of the horizon. And three other mountains rose up. If the outside world was accessed through a portal, logic dictated the other mountains in the distance were part of the sect too. Or our backyard, at the very least.

    The horizon itself looked a little suspect. The white mist looked natural, slowly growing in density with distance as a physically accurate mist would. It had to be the edge of the world. I refused to believe that the sect existed within a pocket realm the size of a planet, it had to be a finite space. I had no idea how the space worked, if it bent back upon itself, or if I¡¯d find a wall if I ran far enough. But the other three mountains were clearly reachable, so I started running.

    Perhaps we simply kept all the really messed up stuff on another peak. As I tore down the mountainside at a breakneck pace, I reflected on the fact that I really needed to learn how to fly on a sword. Tomorrow, I promised myself. After I finished Su Li¡¯s lesson, I would figure out my own cultivation, or kill myself trying. I¡¯d been lucky thus far, that the sect was so sparsely populated that if you veered off the main roads it was extremely unlikely you¡¯d encounter someone. Eventually, someone would notice the elder running around like a peasant, and the rumors would begin.

    Moving down the mountain, there was simply only so fast I could go. If I truly pushed off as hard as I could, I had no doubt I¡¯d survive the landing, but the trees made it impossible to see what I¡¯d be landing on. Even if I didn¡¯t sprain an ankle, getting tangled up in a canopy would waste more time than taking great leaps saved. As I cleared the trees, and began crossing the flat ground separating me from the other peaks, I really started pouring on the gas.

    It wasn''t prudent, but I was getting so damn tired of being prudent.

    On the run to Xianyang, I¡¯d held back. There was no qi in the air, and the run was hours long. I¡¯d found a comfortable pace and stuck to it. Now, I ran, really ran. At first, it was just wind. That meant nothing to me, even as I passed what felt like hundred miles an hour, I didn''t even need to close my eyes. It tore at me with invisible fingers, my robes and hair streaming out behind me. I pushed harder, shifting into a dead sprint, and the miles began falling away beneath me.

    When I finally reached my limit, I must have been moving at well over two hundred miles an hour. I might even have been pushing three, I¡¯d long since surpassed the hundred and ten my old Honda had been capable of. It was almost like racing through water, every time my foot pushed off the ground, I accelerated by at least forty or fifty miles an hour. Then, the sheer pressure of the air in front of me would then drag my speed back down, until I took another step and blasted forward again. Gravity had become my biggest limiting factor, no matter how far forward I leaned, how deeply my slippers gouged into the earth, I just couldn¡¯t get any more forward momentum out of my step.

    Even with the enhanced reflexes of a cultivator, dodging trees took all my attention. At that speed, they seemed to appear from nowhere. It took mere minutes, before I began closing in on one of the other peaks.

    I took a breath in, and the scent hit me like Wang Li¡¯s spear. I stumbled, then frantically scrambled to keep my footing as I slowed. I knew that smell. It was the smell of the cats I¡¯d dissected in college, the smell of the morgue that I¡¯d once been asked to transport a body to, when I was doing my rotations in the emergency room.

    Formaldehyde.

    My new heart beat faster, fear managing to do what even running faster than a sports car had been unable to. Cautiously, I approached the peak.

    Where my peak was heavily wooded, this one had seen substantial logging. It wasn''t stripped bare by any means, but enough trees had been taken that you could see clearly for over a mile. I could see buildings, far more than on my own peak, but of far rougher construction. Many were great squat log cabins, big enough to serve as barracks or workshops, spewing smoke into the air from their stone chimneys. My inhumanly keen eyes picked up the shapes of disciples moving about like insects, all of them wearing the monochrome black robes with white trim I¡¯d noticed at my lecture.

    A great gate stood at the entrance to the peak, one of these three-part archways many Chinese towns had. No walls extended from it, but I had no doubt it was the centerpiece of some sort of protective formation. They wouldn¡¯t have bothered to build it, or guard it, if it were easy to circumvent.

    Atop and around the gate, men and women in bright white robes lounged in various states of readiness. No, not men and women. Ghouls.

    Their skin was gray and waxy, even at a distance. One man¡¯s tongue lolled out from the corner of his mouth like a great purple worm.

    At the center, squatting atop the largest gate, was a colossus. Nine feet tall if he was an inch, even squatting down he was a head taller than those to either side of him. His white robe hung open, showing off deep scars sewn shut, and steel plates worked into his skin. A saber protruded from his back, sticking out from his left shoulder. A legion of paper talismans hung from it like silkworms on a mulberry tree.

    His hands interlocked behind his necks in a posture of relaxation. His other pair of hands held a polearm long enough to split a horse lengthwise in a single swing.

    Atop his shoulders, three heads rested. Two slept, while one frantically scanned every inch of its surroundings, eyes darting about like hummingbirds.

    We were definitely not on the side of the angels.

    A morbid part of me wanted to explore, but I was already cutting it close with Su Li¡¯s lesson. It made sense on some level, I supposed. I wouldn¡¯t want the ghoul factory right next to my house either. At the very least, the sect had better urban planning than Xianyang.

    Then I felt him.

    The other powerful cultivators I¡¯d interacted with had felt muted. Restrained, weaker, or both.

    This thing screamed its presence out into the world, a desperate need to share its nature with others. It was the weak bones of the living splintering beneath the heavy head of a guandao. It was the grave-mouth taste of the defeated, rich oily rot spreading across the tongue.

    It wasn¡¯t a ghoul. There was a will there, a hungry, hateful mind. It was a death cultivator.

    And it was looking at me.

 Chapter 22 - A Promise

    Su Li woke in pain. In her sleep, she had rolled over. Her leg had fully extended as she turned, then been caught under her. Her knee felt on fire, like it was breaking all over again.

    She tensed up, and stifled a cry. She didn¡¯t flinch and risk the thin sheet pulling her broken fingers out of their safe positions. The last two days had beaten in the lesson that moving without thinking was dangerous. Reflexively grasping at her injured leg would only lead to more pain.

    It¡¯d been two nights of cultivation, since the party. Two days of sleep, waking to boil some rice, and then more sleep. She¡¯d taken her pill for this month, and absorbing the yin qi in it had helped a little.

    Her cultivation had advanced, not by much, but enough to be noticeable. She was getting close to the bottleneck before the fifth stage, she could feel her middle dantian straining at its bounds, like a stomach stuffed well past the point of satiation. Unpleasant to feel, but satisfactory all the same. It¡¯d taken almost a year and a half for her to progress through the fourth small realm. She tried not to think about the trajectory that implied. How many years would the eighth take? Four? Six?

    But her body remained weaker than it had been two days ago. She had recovered, marginally. She could walk under her own power now. Grasp and lift a sack of rice, if she moved slowly, and carefully. Magical overnight recoveries were the domain of real cultivators, not initiates like her.

    No light crept in between the broken shutters at her window. It was nearly time for her lesson. Whether Elder Hu abandoned her in disgust or not, she could not miss it.

    For a moment, she¡¯d thought she wasn¡¯t weak. Then it all crashed back down to earth.

    It¡¯d been so long now. She¡¯d known cultivation would be a long road. Vengeance an even longer one. She knew she had all the time in the world, if she succeeded at cultivating, to find happiness once more. But she was so tired. When she¡¯d met Elder Hu, she¡¯d thought things would finally begin moving. That her life, trapped in a hateful limbo since that day, would finally begin again.

    She knew that Elder Hu couldn¡¯t turn over his hand and make her worth something. Those weren¡¯t the kind of miracles he commanded. But, five years was a long time to be alone.

    Sun Ming was more of an older sister than a friend. She looked out for her, tried her best to help. But she had her own responsibilities, and a hundred wayward disciples to care for. It¡¯d been so long, since she¡¯d had true friends. So long since she¡¯d had a family.

    Sometimes, she looked at the slaves Elder Liang called her family, and she felt jealous. Their lives were not their own, but at least they were not alone in the dark hours of the night.

    Then she hated herself, as she imagined her father looking up at her from his wait in the underworld, seeing her in such a state. He would not have been so weak. Wasted so long in the very earliest stages. Su Han had defied this cruel world to build a place for his family full of warmth and love. She would not dishonor his legacy, no matter how dark the road became.

    Gingerly, Su Li got out of bed. It would be a long walk, with the limp she still sported. She washed the mortal grime of the last few days from her body, wishing it was the foul black residue of a breakthrough.

    The walk was slow, painful, and uneventful. A few disciples stared at her from a distance. None offered greetings. She was interesting now. A potential rising star. But potential was such a fickle thing. All of them were waiting to see if she burned out. If Elder Hu tired of indulging her lack of talent.

    She supposed it was better than being written off, destined to be a servant, or prey, to the real talents of the sect. But it didn¡¯t feel good, to have a thousand eyes just waiting for her to slip.

    When she arrived at the unremarkable clearing that Elder Hu had taken a liking to, he was already there. His spiritual sense passed over her, and she winced. It was not hostile, but it was so very sharp. Her wounds prickled, as his attention passed over them. Tears budded at the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could form.

    He turned to face her, distant and impartial as the moon.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    Su Li told him.

    She told him how Sun Ming had invited her to Fang Xiao¡¯s party. How she had been challenged by a boy almost a decade her junior. How she had lost her temper at Li Ru¡¯s provocation. How she had lost.

    He listened without comment.

    ¡°Li Ru is Elder Li¡¯s disciple, the one you studied under?¡± He finally asked.

    ¡°Yes master.¡±

    ¡°Tell me, do you think you did anything wrong? If you did, what should you have done differently?¡±

    She froze. She¡¯d expected judgment, whether good or ill. Instead, she¡¯d been given a test.

    ¡°I think¡­¡± She trailed off, unsure what she thought.

    Elder Hu¡¯s face gave no hint of his feelings. What would he have done? Won the fight, obviously. But was that even an answer, or just a child''s wish for a better outcome? Li Ru''s words had required an answer, but did she need to fight to refute them?

    ¡°I don''t know.¡± She finally answered. ¡°Li Ru¡¯s words demanded a response, and to refute them and then decline Geng Ru¡¯s challenge would have proved me a craven. My reputation is worthless, but I cannot allow my failings to tarnish yours.¡±

    One as low as her could not cultivate without breaks. Su Li had turned over the events of the party in her mind a hundred times, but the only answer she had found was to avoid the situation in the first place. Straying from the crowd had its own dangers though. She flinched at the thought of what Geng Ru might have done to her if their fight had not been a sanctioned duel.

    ¡°Each of us must decide for ourselves when to answer words with steel.¡± Elder Hu said, turning away from her to look at the sky. ¡°I had hoped that the matter with Elder Li would not blossom into a feud. It is a petty thing, beneath both our dignities. But drawing you into it, even in such a distant way, is not acceptable.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s heart felt hot in her chest. He cared about her. She didn¡¯t understand why, but he did. Even when she failed and brought him only trouble.

    ¡°What are you going to do about this?¡±

    There was only one answer.

    ¡°Next time I will not be found wanting. I will study, cultivate, and advance, and show Li Ru and the sect that they were wrong.¡± Su Li said with conviction. ¡°I will challenge Geng Ru again and defeat him.¡±

    Elder Hu nodded at her, but his face remained emotionless. She¡¯d hoped her determination would merit a smile, or at least the hint of one. She supposed his mercy only extended so far.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°I have something that should help with that. But first, what do you think I should do about this?¡±

    Su Li froze. That was the last thing she¡¯d expected to be asked. What did he mean? Who was he suggesting should be punished? Her, for losing? Li Ru, for insulting him?

    ¡°Do not misunderstand me, I¡¯m not asking you to decide who, if anyone, should be punished, or what forms punishment would take. Those choices are mine to make. But I want you to think about the events that occurred, and tell me how you would handle their aftermath, if you possessed my power.¡±

    Su Li understood. It was another test. He wanted to see who she was, what she would do with power. Should she be honest? Or tell him what he wanted to hear? But, she wasn¡¯t sure she knew what either of those answers were. What would she do, if she was a powerful Elder and someone plotted against her student?

    Certainly, he couldn¡¯t strike against Elder Li. He might have started this fight, but Li Ru had only attacked with words, and if he was filial, he would say it was his own idea. Elders did not come to blows over the spats of their juniors. But he couldn¡¯t suppress Li Ru either, it would be bullying the younger generation. Geng Ru was even worse, as much as he deserved anything that would come to him, she couldn¡¯t point Elder Hu in his direction. She couldn¡¯t prove any of his crimes, even if Elder Hu believed her, to punish him for winning a duel would tarnish his name for no benefit.

    They said a demon should be self reliant, needing no allies to impose their will upon the world. But the sect were hypocrites in that regard, they swallowed their venom and coexisted most of the time, regardless of their grievances. By that standard, Sect Master Meng was the only true demon here, for his will suppressed even the Elders from avenging themselves without just cause.

    But there were more ways to punish someone than simply killing them, or crippling their cultivation. And did she even wish to be a demon? She¡¯d joined the sect because they accepted almost anyone who found them, even an orphan without talent.

    ¡°You may think aloud, if you wish. I would hear your reasoning as well as your answer.¡± Elder Hu added.

    Su Li swallowed. Her mouth was dry. He¡¯d asked for her reasoning before she¡¯d even decided what her answer should be. A thought struck her.

    ¡°I think¡­¡± She began, slowly finding her words. ¡°I think that there are better approaches here than the direct one. I think that Elder Li cares a great deal about his reputation as a good and fair teacher. But Li Ru doesn¡¯t. There must be more disciples that he treated poorly. If you found them, and added your voice to theirs, it would be like slapping Elder Li in the face. He might do something foolish then, and you could catch him in the act and suppress him. If he ordered Li Ru to kill me, and you caught him in the attempt, he would forfeit the sect¡¯s protection.¡±

    ¡°An interesting idea.¡± Elder Hu said, stroking the scabbard of his jian. ¡°I will consider it. But first, I must see to your recovery and advancement.¡±

    He withdrew something from his storage ring, and held it out to her. Even from a distance, she could feel the power of the moon reflected in it. The little piece of glass shimmered in Elder Hu¡¯s scarred hand like a pool of quicksilver.

    ¡°Master?¡± She asked, scarcely believing her eyes.

    ¡°I found this during my travels, it¡¯s just been taking up space in my storage ring since then. It seemed suitable for your current cultivation method.¡±

    With trembling hands, she took the natural treasure, carefully avoiding its sharp edges.

    ¡°I don¡¯t keep healing pills weak enough for someone in your realm around. I¡¯ll acquire some before we next meet. We shall resume your training in martial arts next lesson.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t believe her lying eyes and ears. Even if the cost was a pittance to him, such goods could have gone to another, more deserving, student. Fang Xiao was only a year or two her senior and he stood more than an entire realm above her. The sect had no shortage of masterless prodigies. Even Geng Ru, as much as she hated to admit it, would be a better investment than her.

    ¡°Thank you, master.¡± She said, bowing at the waist. Her leg screamed at her, but she ignored it. ¡°I will not let your generosity go to waste.¡±

    ¡°If I were to give you this treasure, do you think you could protect it from theft?¡±

    The thought of losing Elder Hu¡¯s gift sobered her immediately.

    ¡°No.¡± She could not.

    ¡°Very well then. I will keep it, and you will cycle from it under my protection until such a time as you can ensure its safety. You may begin at your leisure, unless you have questions.¡±

    Su Li sat down on the same stump as before. It felt like spitting on his generosity somehow, to make use of his gift as he sat quietly watching over her. A waste of an elder¡¯s valuable time. But she was so close to a breakthrough, and she could think of no better way to show him that he was not wrong to believe in her than to prove that all she¡¯d needed was a chance.

    After two full nights of cultivating, the cycling pattern of the Lunar Refining Wheel came easily to her. Normally, it required adjustments as the moon¡¯s phases shifted, but though the moon above was still waxing, the tiny shard of a mirror in her hand did not reflect the moon as it was. Instead, the light of a full moon shone forth from it. Trusting her intuition, she performed the cycle for a full moon instead. She forced her dantian empty, as the majority of her qi rose in a single torrent towards her shen. She intercepted it before it reached her head, pulling it into a great circle that ran across her entire torso. As the great wheel spun, more and more qi was pulled into it from the tiny mirror on her lap. With the mirror in her hands, gathering power was effortless, she felt like she¡¯d been submerged in a lake of lunar qi. It should have taken her hours, perhaps all night, to gather enough qi to attempt a breakthrough. Instead, it took less than an hour. She didn¡¯t need to go into the process already exhausted from a night of focus.

    Normally, her qi wanted nothing more than to settle. To rest in her dantian, where it could spread out. But the more power she pulled into the wheel, the faster it began to spin, until it was all but moving of its own accord. What was once a riotous tangle of wispy silver smoke had grown into a frothing mass of qi so dense it nearly appeared to be a liquid. Sensing her limit approaching, she shifted her will from forcing her qi to rotate, to dragging it inwards, down towards her dantian.

    The moon did not want to come down to earth. She tore it from heaven all the same. Her qi raged against her control, spinning through her meridians despite her best efforts. But she kept pulling, and slowly its orbit became tighter and tighter around her dantian. With a final heroic wrench, she forced the great mass of qi into the space that was not a space within her chest.

    Her chest felt hot and cold at once, like she¡¯d swallowed a frozen fire. Her lungs strained against the bones of her ribs as she felt her dantian¡¯s walls distend as they struggled to contain the raging power within her. The qi within her strained and thrashed, pressing outward against its vessel in search of any weakness. She threw herself into reinforcing it, pressing back against any section that threatened to buckle. With agonizing slowness, the raging qi within her began to quiet, its power expended. For minutes or hours, she danced at the edge, barely managing to contain it. Sometimes it churned quietly, seemingly calmed. Then it would burst into a sudden fury, straining once more at the walls of her dantian. Time was meaningless, as she poured all of her attention into stabilizing her cultivation. Then in a sudden instant, it was no longer a great mass of lunar qi bound together by smoky wisps of her own true qi. It was simply hers, all of it. Power surged within her. Her injuries did not suddenly heal, but from one moment to the next, they felt just a little more bearable. Instead of a few wisps of smoke, her dantian was filled with a uniform silver mist. The fifth stage of qi condensation. Halfway to the peak of the realm.

    She opened her eyes, and the moon was high. Hours had passed. And Elder Hu was smiling at her.

    The expression looked strange, on his stern face. It pulled his many silver scars in odd directions. She smiled back, and it felt strange, on her face. It¡¯d been so long, since the pressure of the endless road ahead of her felt so light on her shoulders.

    ¡°I broke through.¡± She said, entirely unnecessarily.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    There was quiet between them. She did not have the words to give voice to her feelings.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She finally said. ¡°For everything. For your lessons, and the resources, far better than I deserve. For believing in me, when you had no reason to.¡±

    She hated the words as she spoke them. They were wrong. Inadequate.

    Elder Hu¡¯s eyes met hers, and his smile slowly faded away. The expression that replaced it was not his normal stern, impassive mask. He looked proud, but tired. His eyes were like blades, steel hard, but so very brittle.

    ¡°You have walked a hard road. That others have climbed higher in the same time speaks to their merit, but not to your shame. I am not a man inclined to worry about matters of karma. It is an unpredictable thing, how our lives shape each other. But I worry that your future may be a hard road as well, made harder by being my student. There is a storm on the horizon, and I may not be able to prevent you from being swept up in it. But if I cannot, I shall at least give you every tool that I can.¡±

    ¡°I will not disappoint you, master.¡±

    ¡°No my student, you will not. So long as you give your studies your utmost, you will never disappoint me.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s chest burned, but her dantian was still.

 Chapter 23 - Introspection

    The Night Market was surprisingly convenient. On one hand, it was only open at night, which was a little bothersome when you didn¡¯t sleep. But it was both primarily hosted and patronized by outer disciples, so it made sense. All of them needed to sleep, and since the outer sect was mostly nocturnal, the market was open when they were awake. I was sure there were better options for elders to get the things they needed, but for finding some low level healing pills for Su Li, it would do.

    ¡°Thank you for your custom, honored elder.¡±

    I¡¯d chosen which stall to purchase from by the smell. In stories, they always described pills as smelling ¡®medicinal¡¯. As a westerner, medicinal to me meant antiseptic, but I could see where they were coming from. The stall exuded a pleasant aroma, but a powerful one. It was herbal and earthy, pungent and musky all at once. It was like juniper berries and rhino musk, with a great helping of citrus and a small hint of the holiday spices, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, piled on top. Just being within a dozen feet of the stall would probably be enough to give some people migraines.

    The young woman working the stall had been perfectly helpful. I¡¯d explained what I was looking for, she¡¯d offered up some boxes of suitable pills, I¡¯d looked at them as if I knew what I was doing, and then chose a set with a waxy purple outer coating. It had been one of my rules in a past life, when choosing products from a foreign culture, or where I didn¡¯t understand indications of quality, always opt for pink or purple packaging if it was available. It had worked for me with sushi rice, nori, and condoms, I saw no reason to deviate now.

    I¡¯d bought two dozen lesser qi and blood pills for a pair of spirit stones, and had half delivered to Su Li¡¯s house. I didn¡¯t even need an address, the young woman had been quite insistent that they could find her residence, I didn¡¯t need to trouble myself with the matter.

    ¡°Elder?¡± The mousy attendant asked. ¡°May we advertise your purchase of our pills?¡±

    I thought about it.

    ¡°One purchase is taking a chance, two is an endorsement. You may relate the truth, but I ask you refrain from implying anything about my judgment of the relative quality of pills at the market.¡±

    ¡°Thank you elder, I understand your meaning.¡± She said, bowing her head. ¡°I will see these pills delivered to your disciple.¡±

    She gestured at a rather exhausted looking male disciple in the back of the stall, who took the box before setting off at a jog. I put the rest of the pills into my ring, before setting off to explore the rest of the market.

    Most of the goods on display fell in a convenient mid-point between the mortal wares on sale in Dusk, and the more valuable items sold by the heavily secured Sleeping Fortune auction house. There were pills and weapons aplenty, as well as talismans and defensive treasures. Even a few natural treasures and cultivation manuals. All of them were on the cheaper and weaker side though, and few were suitable for anyone beyond the midpoint of qi condensation. Almost everything at the market could be had for fewer than ten spirit stones.

    It struck me as being as much an actual institution as a way for outer disciples to dispose of unused resources and crafts. None of it held much interest to me.

    Then I saw a familiar face. Qian Min had a stall, and it smelled absolutely divine. He was frying dumplings atop a flat iron griddle, then finishing them in a bamboo steamer. I wasn¡¯t planning on taking a second disciple. The first had been a rushed decision, driven by fear and compassion more than anything. But if I did, Qian Min would be at the top of the list. Cooking was something I could actually teach, not just fake. With the right reading material, I had no doubt I could figure out immortal cooking too.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take a plate.¡±

    ¡°Elder Hu!¡± He said with a big smile. ¡°For you, it¡¯s on the house.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the thought, but I am perfectly capable of paying.¡±

    ¡°I must insist. Try them, and you¡¯ll see why!¡±

    Interesting. I refrained from objecting further, I could always pay the man later. A few moments later, he set a plate before me. The dumplings sat by themselves, with no garnishes or sauces. Eschewing chopsticks, I popped one in my mouth, and chewed.

    Hot!

    It was strange, how I could tell they were too hot for a mortal to eat, but the temperature didn¡¯t actually hurt me anymore. Then the taste hit me, and I forgot all about that. They weren¡¯t quite soup dumplings, but they were incredibly juicy, rich pork with chunks of onion, flavored with five spice and a hefty dose of rice vinegar. The texture was odd though, rather than the uniformity of ground meat, they were closer to pulled pork. It was a very non-traditional dumpling, as I understood it, but absolutely inspired. A Carolina pulled pork soup dumpling, but with five spice instead of mustard. Brilliant.

    ¡°I took your advice!¡± He chattered as I chewed. ¡°Cooling the braise instead of heating it helped prevent the sun swallowing hog meat from toughening. It¡¯s still not the most elegant preparation, it¡¯s difficult to get the meat tender enough without it falling apart into shreds. I might need to look into using secondary immortal ingredients in order to achieve the texture I¡¯m looking for. But the shredded pork makes for an excellent dumpling filling!¡±

    ¡°They are quite good.¡± I said calmly. Compared to the many more reserved outer disciples, Qian Min was almost shockingly gregarious, especially towards me. I wondered where exactly he stood in the hierarchy of the outer sect. Did he rely on his friendships to protect him, or was he the sort of fellow who used the cover of his chatter to acquire intelligence? Or was he simply powerful enough he didn¡¯t fear to speak his mind?

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll do any more culinary lectures?¡± He continued. ¡°I rather enjoyed the last one, it helped me fill in some gaps in my wok technique. Gotta be more careful about how I sweat my onions. There¡¯s only so much you can learn from recipe books, they always leave out the really fine points of the fundamentals. It took me far too long to learn that you can overwork wheat flour. My sesame pancakes came out dense instead of flaky for years!¡±

    When he finally stopped talking, I answered his first question.

    ¡°I had not intended to do so. I had seen no evidence that many disciples gained anything from the last one.¡± I paused, thinking. ¡°If enough disciples showed interest, I would not mind giving another to a smaller, more dedicated group.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Qian Min¡¯s eyes shone with a hungry look that was concerningly reminiscent of Elder Liang. ¡°Well then, I¡¯ll have to see about rounding up some of my peers. I¡¯m sure their eyes can be opened to the glory of cooking.¡±

    Was Qian Min some sort of tyrant that was going to force people to pretend to pay attention to my lectures just so I would give them? Would that be good for my reputation? Did I care?

    ¡°We can speak of this later.¡± I said, rising to leave.

    ¡°Of course elder. Do give Disciple Su my best wishes, I had hoped to see her triumphant in her duel.¡±

    ¡°I will let her know.¡±

    Picking a direction at random, I made to leave the market. I¡¯d tarried here long enough.

    Then I saw it.

    The auctioneer¡¯s block stood like a lone peak, every stall keeping their distance from it. Behind it sat ten cages of black iron, each wide enough to fit seven or eight men. Hints of rust suggested they¡¯d seen long use. They could have been used only to contain beasts, I supposed. Somehow, I doubted that. Too many small details fit together too cleanly. I had no doubt that corpse refining was not the sort of process that most disciples succeeded at on the first try.

    My fingers twitched. My stomach felt heavy. I breathed in, and my tongue pressed against my teeth. The formless churning anger that had become so familiar to me these last few days raised its head again. I wanted to kill something. Someone. To ram my sword clear through their gut, feel their warm blood soak through the space between my fingers. To watch, as in their final moments, the slaving scum realized what they visited upon others could be done to them in turn. I felt my will leaking out into the world, a lust for blood so intense I felt like it should tint the very air red.

    I hated it. It wasn¡¯t me, a foreign thing burrowing into my mind, a dead man¡¯s last gift and curse. I loved it. It was everything, the exhilaration of a long night out, when all the world shines with possibility. The gentle curve of smooth skin, gleaming in the half-light. The absolute certainty of standing your ground, knowing that this is what you were born for.

    My breath came in shuddering pants, ragged with anticipation. If the cages had been full, I was not sure I could restrain myself.

    It was a futile fantasy. I couldn¡¯t fight the sect. But it was not an unpleasant one.

    From the corner of my eyes, I saw a few disciples were staring at me. Their faces were white as the moon above. I turned, and gave them a smile. It was an ugly thing, half manic, teeth peeking through my lips. I¡¯d been acting reasonably for a while. A reminder, that I was supposed to be some rabid beast of a man wouldn¡¯t go amiss.

    I kept walking. It was a good reminder that every seemingly good person here knew what we were, what we taught and tolerated. Even Qian Min and Su Li.

    I wondered how many people we auctioned off each year. I wondered where they came from. I wondered who bought them. How many elders practiced arts that relied on a fresh supply of bodies? How many were destined to end up as ghouls?

    My body froze. I saw the death cultivator standing before me. Remembered the moment I met his eyes. I couldn¡¯t kill that. I knew it in my bones. It had allowed me to walk away. If I ever defied the leadership of the sect, it would cut me down in moments.

    How powerful could Meng Xiao be, that even that monster bowed to him?

    Fuck it all. If the sect sold slaves, I would swallow my tongue and watch. I could do nothing about it. Nothing. Not as I was.

    I couldn¡¯t fix the world. But if I was to be trapped here, I would at least ensure that I would never again need to tolerate butchers and slavers in my sight. No matter how long it took. Even if I had to surpass the Hu Xin that was.

    I¡¯d been taking this too casually. Allowed fear to dictate my actions. I¡¯d picked no fights I could avoid, taken no risks with my own cultivation. Relied on bluster and acting to protect me. When Wang Li had challenged me, I¡¯d nearly run, even knowing he stood at least a full realm below me, probably more.

    It was time to change that.

    Now fully clear of the market, I started running, looking for an empty space to experiment. Even before seeing the auction block, I¡¯d intended to finally attempt to cultivate today. But the reminder of what I was surrounded by gave that new urgency.

    I had two more things on the list for today. I liked lists for productivity, they¡¯d never led me wrong in my last life. The first was that I needed to be able to control my own cultivation. Specifically, feel and direct the qi within me. Almost every advanced technique I¡¯d read about relied upon being able to do that as a foundation. Casting spiritual sense out at a distance. Reinforcing part of the body. Rapidly healing. The very act of cycling qi in order to advance. It was also a prerequisite to the second item on my list. Flying on a sword.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    I should be able to do it. None of the martial manuals I¡¯d read had detailed how, only mentioned it in passing, but I¡¯d focused my library time on technique and cultivation manuals thus far, and lower realm ones to boot. If I needed to, I¡¯d consult the library again, but I wasn¡¯t sure if a supposedly preeminent swordsman reading basic sword manuals would be suspicious or not. First, I¡¯d try it blind. I¡¯d managed Stormbreaker by instinct once, even if I¡¯d never dared use it again. If I could create a hurricane with my sword, flying on it should be manageable.

    Eventually, once I felt I was far enough away from any sect-related buildings, I found a nice spot. There were trees, and rocks. The grass was soft. There was nothing remarkable about it, which was precisely the point.

    I sat quietly on the mossy earth for a while, letting my residual rage drain out. I couldn¡¯t act on it, so it needed to go. Or at least, to sleep.

    I¡¯d never been a great meditator. Junior varsity at best, so to speak. I thought I might have reached the first jhana once, the sense of rapturous joy and contentment many meditators say mark the beginning of serious attainment, before meditation begins to get properly weird. That might just have been sleep deprivation though, I¡¯d been awake well over 24 hours following a transatlantic flight at that point.

    But, I could at least sit quietly and not think for half an hour without too much suffering. Stories always described cultivation as meditation, but I wasn¡¯t yet sold on that idea. The outward similarities made sense, in both activities you sat down, closed your eyes, and directed your attention inwards. But cultivating, or cycling qi, seemed like a rather active process from the descriptions in the manuals. In my very unqualified experience, the two seemed like similar but unrelated activities.

    I sat down. Felt the earth against my butt, through the thin film of my two layers of robes. I wiggled my toes in my slippers, feeling the way my socks caught against the stiff canvas of the shoe. I breathed in, felt the way my inner robe slid against my chest.

    In, and out.

    In, and out.

    I never did get to eat at that restaurant. I¡¯d traveled much of the world, but never actually visited California. Or China for that matter.

    I let the thought go.

    In, and out.

    Was that the right word for a burger place, restaurant?

    I let that go too.

    In, and out.

    In, and out.

    I wondered how the three heads of the death cultivator worked. Did he grow new heads when he leveled up as a zombie? Or were they grafts? Did the center one command the others, or were they a true gestalt?

    Not the time. I let those thoughts float downstream, to return at a more appropriate hour.

    In, and out.

    In, and out.

    I felt something in the center of my chest. I¡¯d felt my core before, but it was clearer now. I followed the sensation, straining towards it like how I might try to hear a conversation from across a room. It felt hard. Sharp, but somehow without edges. Or perhaps only composed of edges? It felt like holding a knife by the sides of the blade, you could feel the sharpness, but it wouldn''t cut you unless you slipped. But somehow, it was also a sphere. A sphere composed of ten thousand edges.

    No, more than that. It felt¡­ mathematical almost. Like the platonic ideal of a shape trying to exist in the real world. It reminded me of those explanations of how integrals worked, from my college calculus classes. You took a curve, and put a series of boxes under it, then added up all their areas. As your boxes got smaller, became thinner slices of the curve, the sum of their areas would get closer and closer to the value of the integral.

    The boxes in this analogy were blades. It was a series of blades of impossible thinness forming a close approximation of the surface of a sphere. And it was real, but it wasn''t. Or perhaps it existed both in this world and beyond it?

    I flexed my chest muscles, feeling how my core shifted in response. It moved a little, drifting upwards and outwards as I inhaled. I could feel my muscles sliding over it, my lung and heart pressing against it. But it did not cut them. Was that because it didn¡¯t fully exist in the physical world, or because it was my core, and so I was protected from its energies? If someone ripped it out of my chest, would it remain solid? Would it cut their hands to the bone? Interesting questions I was not keen on discovering the answers to.

    I focused on the sensation of sharpness coming from my core, following it to the qi it emanated. Like dew forming on a cold glass, droplets of qi steadily formed around my core, rapidly whisked away by the steady flow of qi within me. I tried to track one of the streams, but quickly lost it as it flowed into another, larger, flow of qi in my shoulder. I tried that a few more times, with similar results. I abandoned that tactic after, individual droplets or streams of qi were impossible for me to track, and instead I began trying to map the points where one stream flowed into another.

    Two in the right shoulder, one rising from my spine, another spinning outwards along the top lobe of my lung. They weren¡¯t quite symmetrical on the left, with a third confluence coming out from the core nestled against my heart. Unfortunately, when I went back to check the right shoulder again, there were three smaller confluences, in different locations. Even the places where streams met shifted on their own. If there was an overarching pattern to the flowing qi within me, I couldn¡¯t see it. It was simply too complex a system.

    I gave up on that for the moment, and focused on the qi itself instead. My qi had a certain quality to it that was consistent throughout. If my system of meridians was a body of flowing liquid, then all the liquid was of the same composition so to speak. It felt sharp, despite being a liquid, but it was not sword qi. I¡¯d felt sword qi before, controlled it. When I swung, my qi and that of the weapon and environment mixed into a steel gray energy that existed only to cut. This was similar, but not that. If I had to describe it, I¡¯d say my qi was wetter, and more colorful than sword qi somehow. I saw without eyes how it scintillated even in the lightless depths of my body. Compared to the lunar qi I¡¯d seen Su Li cultivate, it seemed more opaque, and less reflective, while far denser and heavier at the same time. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was what the manuals called true qi or not. Certainly, I consumed and expelled it frequently, which was a mark against it being my own innate qi. Perhaps the concept of true qi applied more to cultivators below core formation, and all mine was locked up into my core? Whatever it was, I decided to call it Hu qi for now. I''d have to leave piecing out exactly what aspects it contained until I had more experience with possible types of qi in the world.

    That would be vital to know if I ever wanted to actually cultivate successfully.

    I shuddered, and watched as my qi didn¡¯t react in the slightest to the physical motion. It was now or never.

    I had no idea what cycling technique would be appropriate for my cultivation, so I decided to try the smallest internal manipulation I could think of. I focused on the way the qi in my right shoulder spun in a gentle curl, near the top of my lung. I willed it to twist harder, spin in a full circle. It did. Qi spun in a circle with no beginning, a small cycle disconnected from the rest of my system. There was a mild stiffness in my shoulder where the little ball spun, but it didn¡¯t feel bad, just odd. Gently, I willed the orb to move, to flow down the river of qi heading down my right arm. It did, bobbling along slower than the qi it floated amongst.

    As I watched, it slowly began to spin faster, drawing in qi from the stream around it. It grew bigger as it reached my mid bicep, and a cramp shot through my arm. I tried to let it go, but the snarl of qi didn¡¯t want to be unwound. I clamped down on it, compressing it. The orb shifted, its outer edge slowing even as the center sped up, like a great storm raging within a marble. The pain diminished, but the qi kept slowly being sucked in, feeding the raging storm at the center of the orb. I did not like where this was going.

    Two words shot through me, and my stomach sunk. Qi deviation.

    I didn¡¯t have time to think, the storm in the ball was growing more violent by the second. It wasn¡¯t a strain to control yet, but it was pushing back against my will harder and harder every moment. Panicking, I did what felt most natural, I simply pushed the dangerous snarl of qi away from me. For a moment, there was a sense of pressure, as the marble pressed against my skin.

    The pressure broke.

    I screamed like an animal, as my shoulder exploded.

    Blood blasted out of my shoulder like a bullet, leaving a mess of flesh-pulp hanging to my bones by threads of tendon. My eyes watered, and through the tears I saw the stark white of my own bones. I ground my teeth and bore down as pain erased everything, the sheer intensity of it leaving me lightheaded. For a single immortal moment, there was nothing but the fire and absence and wrongness radiating from my arm.

    Then finally, slowly, the pain receded. Fibers of muscles squirmed as they wormed their way back into position. The bleeding slowed, then eventually receded, flowing back into my arm. Before my eyes, skin regrew, and then blossomed into a bruise, which slowly faded away.

    The whole process, once the pain receded enough to track the passing of time, didn¡¯t take more than twenty minutes. It made me wonder, if the much slower healing I¡¯d experienced on the road was because of lingering weapon qi in my stab wounds.

    In any case, that was apparently not how my qi was intended to be cycled. I shrugged off the top half of my robe, letting the belt hold the garment up on its own. This one was a write-off, the right sleeve was barely holding on to the torso. At least I had plenty of spares in the sect colors.

    Standing, I inspected the rest of the damage. One tree had a hole in it, blasted clean through. Along the flight path, there were small craters dotting the ground. Little gashes in the soft soil, as if droplets of molten metal had fallen, rather than human blood.

    Well, if I wanted to incapacitate myself with pain afterwards, that could be a really terrible last ditch attack. Novices were taught to focus on internal qi manipulations before external ones, but they didn¡¯t exactly write manuals for my situation. So perhaps I would change tack and focus on controlling my sword.

    That at least shouldn¡¯t end with me bleeding. Not unless I failed grievously at aiming.

    I drew my sword, and placed it on the ground in front of me. I still found it odd, how little in the way of its own power I sensed from the weapon. It had to be something special, to survive my battle with Wang Li with nary a chip on the edge.

    I let my qi-field drift out, enveloping the blade. Nothing really happened. I could feel it, sense that it existed, feel ghostly wisps of sword and metal qi emanating from it. I pulled at the field, dragging it in and out. I created little eddies like I had internally, throwing them out and letting them dissipate. I rotated the entire field, trying to blow the sword to the side. Nothing worked, regardless of what I tried, the sword stubbornly refused to move.

    I was missing something. It felt like the answer should be right in front of me, but for the life of me, I couldn¡¯t see it. I went over what I¡¯d learned about qi in my head. Internal qi movement could influence external qi. Cycling. Internal qi movement could also influence the physical world. Internal techniques, like healing and bodily reinforcement. External qi could also affect the world. That covered sword qi and other techniques. I wanted to move an object. I was using qi externally, but I was using my own innate qi. Sword qi felt different, it wasn¡¯t my own qi, but a phenomenon that existed on its own, something generated by the interaction between me and the sword.

    That left me with two ideas. Attempt to directly manipulate sword qi in order to move the sword, or charge the weapon with sword qi, then use my field of external innate qi in order to manipulate the sword qi, and through it, the sword itself.

    The first one sounded hard. I had no idea how to control sword qi. I just decided to cut something, and sword qi appeared. Method two then. I picked up my sword. I raised it high, and picked out a tree. I stared at my quarry, and imagined slicing that tree in particular into a million tiny splinters. That familiar sense of weight and intent gathered at the edge of my sword. I firmly grasped my external qi field, and in a tube around my sword, I pushed.

    It went flying, rocketing forward out of my hand.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± I hissed. My grip hadn¡¯t been quite loose enough, and the pommel had smashed my thumb on the way out.

    Still, clenching my thumb, I was smiling like a lunatic. Finally, something just worked. Sure, I missed the tree. But I understood what was going on. Innate qi moved sword qi. Sword qi moved the sword. I raced off, searching for my sword. I eventually found it buried all the way to the hilt in a small mound of dirt. I picked it back up, charged it up with intent, and this time, I was gentler with it. I picked out a thin vertical slice of qi, and started rotating it counterclockwise. I was greeted by the magical sight of my sword gently floating just above my palm.

    It was like keeping a feather aloft by blowing air at it from below, tricky to gauge, but incredibly intuitive. I played with my new toy for hours, trying out more and more complex patterns of qi manipulation.

    Eventually, I got the hang of it.

    I thrust a palm out, and my sword followed, dashing forward in a rapid thrust. I stepped back and spun, and my sword returned and whirled around me in a spiral, cutting down a dozen imaginary assassins. I flipped my arm around, pointing two fingers towards the heavens, and the blade spun upwards on a geyser of qi, flying out of my sphere of control. With careful focus, I grabbed hold of the ejected burst of qi and gave it one final command, sending the blade rocketing down to earth like a missile. It blasted straight through the tree I¡¯d been aiming for, embedding itself in a large boulder behind it.

    I¡¯d learned after the first time I¡¯d tried that, and spent fifteen minutes digging my sword out of the deep tunnel it¡¯d carved into the earth. I still needed to touch it, to charge it with sword qi. It had taken an awful lot of digging before I got within arms length of the pommel.

    It felt good, to finally succeed at something. For all the reading and experimenting to pay off in a technique that wasn¡¯t just handed to me wholesale as a product of Elder Hu¡¯s preexisting cultivation. At that moment, I actually felt like a cultivator, rather than some sort of supervillain granted their powers in an industrial accident.

    A thought struck me.

    If decisive thrusts and sweeping curves moved sword qi in the external world, perhaps my cultivation would respond better to a pattern based on them than it had my earlier, softer, attempts?

 Chapter 24 - Swordflight

    Two hours and three sudden breaches of bodily integrity later, I was forced to conclude cultivation wasn¡¯t that simple. There was something to learn there, but the pain of expelling each tiny deviation was simply too much for me to bear. Even though they healed in thirty minutes, each sudden ejection of qi filled blood was worse than getting stabbed. It was the way they ripped the flesh on the way out, rather than cutting it. The sheer level of destruction set my nerves on fire, leaving me curled up in an insensate ball.

    It didn¡¯t help that recovering from each incident took a good ten percent of my qi. After all my practice, I was at well under half capacity. It didn¡¯t feel great. It wasn¡¯t painful, but I felt tired in a way that I hadn¡¯t since arriving in this body. It also came with a weird sensation that straddled the line between hunger and nausea. My core was slowly dripping more qi into my system, but it would be hours until I was full again.

    If all my attempts to cycle hadn¡¯t ended so disastrously, I might have considered supplementing that with a spirit stone. As it was, I didn¡¯t know how to absorb one.

    I¡¯d tried a variety of motions and patterns, everything from moving one strand within a flow faster than its surrounding qi, to trying to individually manage the qi within an entire section of my body. Every attempt had eventually resulted in some sort of rapidly accelerating snarl, even the ones where I¡¯d just tried to freeze a bit of my qi in place. A few deviations I¡¯d managed to isolate, slow down, and unwind, but the other three had to be ejected.

    I considered myself a tough man, but there was only so much I could take. I¡¯d been in enough fights to know I had limits. I was no superhuman protagonist who could be trapped in a torture formation for a hundred lifetimes and come out ready for more. I¡¯d met men who regularly had to be reminded that struggling against a choke hold until they literally fell unconscious wasn¡¯t good for their long term health. Shit, I¡¯d rolled with a few regularly, they were very nice people. I wasn¡¯t one of those.

    I¡¯d trained martial arts under a number of people in my last life. Like cultivators, most of them tended to be at least a little eccentric.

    One older man I¡¯d jiu-jitsu trained under had been a bit of a sadist. He had a habit of ending his rolls with students by sitting on their chests, letting them breathe just enough to stay conscious, not letting them tap out until he was satisfied they¡¯d struggled as hard as they could.

    When I¡¯d watch other people get subjected to the exercise, I¡¯d always imagined that I would struggle to the end. It just fit my image of who I was. I was the guy who could cut off a wart or skin tag with an x-acto knife without flinching. The guy who ran until he vomited at wrestling practice, then wiped his mouth off, got back up, and kept running.

    When my turn finally came, I hadn''t. I¡¯d fought hard, I¡¯d wriggled and pushed and tried every mount escape I knew. And then eventually I had nothing more to give.

    I didn¡¯t pass out. I could still breathe enough to stay conscious. Could still move my hands enough to tap frantically. But there came a point where I just couldn¡¯t fight any longer. Where I just gave up.

    Blasting those tiny deviations out was worse than that had been. I could do it. I could force myself to suffer through it again. But not without knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel, that I was on the right track.

    I sat up. My robes were a total write-off. I¡¯d mostly directed my ejections out of my naked torso, but between individual razor sharp droplets, rolling about in the mud in agony, and the fact that the pain had been enough to make even my immortal constitution sweat, they were an absolute mess.

    There was one more thing I wanted to try before I changed though. I shifted the shroud of qi around me, reaching out for my sword. Resonating with my qi, the little embers of sword qi that endured within it burst into life. I pulled, and it leapt to my hand.

    I could live a thousand years, and I didn¡¯t think that would ever get old.

    I held the blade out before me, letting it fill once more with the will to cut. It felt a little ironic, that only now that I felt confident in my ability to swing this sword without destroying whatever stood before me. Only by understanding what it felt like to create sword qi without actively using the weapon, had I learned again how to swing something without creating sword qi. There was an element of intentionality to it, to making the decision that this swing should sever something, even if only the air. Elder Hu¡¯s body and cultivation just reduced the threshold, making what would normally require absolute focus so easy as to be accidental.

    I pulled once more on my shroud of qi. My aura? I set the whole thing rotating around me. It rose from my feet, then crossed above my head, before looping around behind me in a great wheel. I dropped my sword, and the updraft caught it at roughly knee level.

    Carefully, I stepped onto the floating sword.

    The hilt immediately dropped under the weight of my foot, hitting the earth. Then the sword shot forward, spinning off through the clearing.

    I sighed. I immediately saw the stupid mistake. Spinning my qi in a wheel worked for levitation while the sword was in front of me, it was the wrong pattern for flight, where the sword would be beneath me. At least it was still charged, so I reached out and recalled it.

    This time, I kept my aura still as I stepped on the sword first, feeling like an idiot as I did so. I needed upward pressure beneath my feet, so I shaped my qi into a sort of toroid. That was the fancy mathematical name for a donut, a torus. The shape you got when you took the surface generated by rotating a smaller circle around the circumference of a larger one. My qi followed the curve of the donut, rising from beneath my feet, passed upward around my body, then flowed back down at the edges of my aura, before rising again.

    Slowly, I began to rise into the air. Then the sword slipped sideways, unceremoniously dumping me on my ass.

    It was a finicky thing. Put the center of the stretched donut of qi a little too far to the left or right, and the sword would tip over. The correct spot wasn¡¯t quite in the center either, depending on which foot I had in the lead it shifted around.

    And yet, after a few tries navigating that balancing act came easily to me. Now that I was conscious of it, the aura of qi around me felt like a new set of limbs. In much the same way that we windmill our arms to keep our balance, it rapidly became almost second nature to shift and tilt my aura to keep the sword under me level.

    Did humans here evolve neural circuitry to handle that sort of thing? Was that even the right frame of inquiry here? Surely there weren¡¯t enough high level cultivators for natural selection to produce adaptations for better qi handling.

    Every little thing I learned gave me a hundred more questions to wonder at.

    Slowly, I sped up the rotation of the surface of the torus. Under the greater suction, the sword rose, and I rose with it.

    I smiled. It was magical. The most casual defiance of the fundamental laws of physics I¡¯d ever seen, save perhaps for the way my flesh magically knit itself back together. I was literally pulling myself up by my bootstraps. I wondered how the physics of it all worked. I was still heavier than air, but I wasn¡¯t expelling anything to keep myself level like a rocket would. My qi flowed in an unbroken cycle, if I was losing power just keeping myself aloft, the drain was so light I couldn¡¯t feel it.

    This time, rather than moving on impulse and dropping myself on my ass, I thought before I tried to move forward. I¡¯d done a great deal of 3D modeling in my last life, and those habits came in handy here with visualizing the shapes I was making my qi make. I could tilt the torus. Rotating the construct around the y axis would cause it to start pulling me forward, while still pulling upwards enough to keep me afloat. But it would also cause the back of the hilt to rise. I could lean backwards to deal with that, but it would limit the speed I could fly, I only had so much weight to put on it. It would also tie my altitude and forward speed together, the faster I accelerated, the more I would dip. I¡¯d need to vary the strength of my cycling too, pulling harder when I wanted to accelerate laterally, in order to counteract that.

    I tried to visualize all of that in my head. See the rotating donut, feel the speed at which it should turn. Remember to lean opposite the acceleration, to keep the sword level.

    I took a deep breath, and tipped the donut.

    I shot forwards, accelerating like a rocket. Leaning back I barely kept the sword level, but then I started climbing rapidly. The residual vertical momentum from my qi was greater than gravity¡¯s acceleration downwards. Shit. I let up on the gas, but then the hilt of the sword immediately dropped under my back foot¡¯s weight.

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    For a single immortal moment, I watched helplessly as the now vertical sword kept moving forward faster than my body. With agonizing slowness, my feet detached from the blade, leaving me thirty feet in the air without a sword to stand on.

    I hung in the air for a full second, as gravity slowly ate away at my momentum. My sword kept spinning off into the distance.

    I landed with a heavy thump, my unbreakable legs digging into the soil like I¡¯d fallen into soft cheese.

    I got up, and surreptitiously looked around, making absolutely sure there was nobody nearby to witness my shame.

    ¡°That. Was awesome.¡± I muttered quietly. The mask of Hu Xin itched something fierce when you wore it all the time. That felt like a moment worth marking.

    I gave it a few more tries. Then a few dozen more. Then I kept going, until the moon had reached its apex and began its descent. By the time I was finished, my robes had progressed well past write-off territory, approaching actively immodest, the silk resembling swiss cheese after all the high-speed impacts with trees and boulders.

    If someone stumbled across me right now, I might literally have to kill them. That, or spin the most monstrous lie of my life about a nascent soul spirit beast wandering the outer sect. It was that thought that convinced me to find a stream and get changed.

    But, dirty and exhausted as I was, I could fly. Not well. Not particularly fast either, by cultivator standards. I was capping out a bit shy of a hundred miles an hour, slower than my sprinting speed. My balance was less than perfect, I struggled with fast turns and even more with sudden deceleration. Going upside down or doing loops was absolutely out of the question, I hadn¡¯t figured out how to get my feet to properly adhere to the sword, other than relying on gravity.

    There was more to learn here. If I could figure out internal qi circulation, I was confident I could get my feet to stick to the sword. And I had a hundred ideas about how to accelerate myself further by actually expelling qi like a rocket, but I was already running low enough it would take me most of the next day to fully recover, even in the qi-dense bounds of the sect. Those ideas would have to wait.

    I sighed. I was getting ahead of myself. This was excellent progress. I had a whole host of capabilities I didn''t have yesterday. New tools that improved my ability to fight, flee, and act like Elder Hu.

    I sat down in a small stream, still wearing the ghost of my robe. Bathing naked outdoors felt suspect, I might not exactly be a fairy, but I didn¡¯t want some protagonist stumbling across me bathing naked either. And one of the nice things about having a storage ring is you could just stuff your wet clothes in there and deal with them months, or years, later. At least in theory.

    As I methodically scrubbed myself down with water that would have been downright frigid for a mortal, I let myself think about the subject I¡¯d been avoiding all day.

    What was I going to do about Elder Li?

    Even now, almost a day removed from first seeing Su Li¡¯s waxy black and yellow bruises, my chest tightened in anger. My fingers reached out on instinct for the sword I¡¯d left on the bank, and it quivered in response, eager to leap to my hand the moment it was called.

    I got so very angry, so very easily, these days. Even though it faded as fast as it came on, it made me uncomfortable. Like I was balancing on the edge of a knife, one bad moment away from making a decision I could not take back. It was tempting to blame it on Elder Hu¡¯s cultivation, or even just his body. It was plausible, modern biology had little to say about what could or could not happen when a mind was magically transplanted onto a completely computational substrate.

    But a colder part of me wondered if I was just showing my true colors now that my self control was really being tested. My last life had not been some charmed existence, but it had been rare that anyone I cared about was so casually abused in front of me. I might be more influential now, for all that I treaded quietly, but I was also less insulated from the brutality of the world. I¡¯d gotten so used to injustice being a thing that happened to other people that I forgot how galling it was.

    In some ways, the fact that Su Li would make a full recovery in under a week with the right pills made the whole thing stranger. Beating a mortal like that was unforgivable, whether they would ever fully heal was a roll of the dice. But Su Li had sounded more resigned than terrified when she recounted her story. Even without my help, she¡¯d fully expected to recover eventually.

    And yet, something had to be done. I could have borne snide words forever, as long as they didn¡¯t suggest I wasn¡¯t who I said I was. But this demanded a response.

    I was no expert in matters of face. But I¡¯d already consulted the only resource available to me, Su Li.

    Her idea hadn¡¯t been bad. Shaming Li Ru and his master with the truth would be elegant, if I could pull it off. But I suspected she¡¯d played down her desire for revenge so as to not inconvenience me. And even if she didn¡¯t want blood, I did.

    Challenging Elder Li immediately felt like a trap. He wouldn¡¯t be aware I was weakened, so if he was being this confident, he was either offended enough not to care about the odds of victory, or thought he had an edge I wouldn¡¯t know about, either in combat or in the social aftermath. The social optics weren¡¯t great for me, but I thought they were doable if my victory was absolute. I¡¯d look like a thin skinned brute for escalating the matter that hard, but that was fine if I won effortlessly. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t confident in my ability to do that.

    I reviewed what I knew about him. He was almost certainly in core formation. I was likely either in high core formation or low nascent soul. I probably about half a stage on him, judging from the social byplay at Elder Liang¡¯s tea party. He favored puppets. I¡¯d only seen the one, the great ape he¡¯d had at his lecture. He almost certainly had more. I suspected that meant his offensive techniques would take the form of the natural synergies with puppetry. Hidden blades, probably poisoned. Possibly poison gas as well, it seemed like a natural thing to use with puppets who would be unaffected by it. He likely had some techniques to bind or manipulate his targets directly as well.

    I had good answers for most of it. My new exproprioception for sharp objects would be very useful to deal with hidden blades. Stormbreaker would handle any poison cloud, though it took a full second of preparation to unleash. My naturally sharp qi would make trying to bind me difficult. The greatest danger would be in a battle of attrition, where multiple puppets that did not bleed slowly whittled me down.

    In many ways, he seemed like an ideal opponent for me on paper. That was what scared me, unless I was a total unknown, he had to have some sort of technique he felt would be effective against me.

    On top of all that, a close victory did not help my reputation. I was supposed to be substantially stronger than him, letting him land blows like Wang Li had would invite dangerous questions.

    There was a part of me that wanted to say fuck it all, fight him and let the chips fall where they may. It was a persuasive voice, but it never really had a chance in the first place. I¡¯d spent a lifetime denying those impulses, letting cold calculation alone guide my choices. The memory of the way Su Li had winced every time she moved was not nearly enough to break those habits.

    A direct confrontation with him was an option, but not my first choice.

    I wasn¡¯t sure what Geng Ru¡¯s deal was. I¡¯d checked the record hall and he wasn¡¯t one of Elder Li¡¯s students, or one of Li Ru¡¯s. He had no official connection with either of them I could find in the paperwork, he was just an uncommonly young, moderately talented, disciple with no background of note.

    With a few small realms and a couple dirty tricks under her belt, I felt confident Su Li could handle him. Given a few months, I believed I could at least give her that much at least. Seeing as he fought with tonfas of all things, a good grappling foundation might actually help her escape his attempts to bring the fight in close.

    I would leave him to her. To surpass him would be even sweeter than revenge.

    That left Li Ru.

    I couldn¡¯t touch him directly. Doing anything physical to him would be bullying the younger generation. Any administrative punishment I levied could probably be undone by his master, who held the same official rank as me. The elegant thing would be to suppress him with my own foundation establishment disciple. If I had one.

    I paused. That was an idea. I didn¡¯t have one. I didn¡¯t want one, really. But could I borrow one?

    If I subjected Li Ru to the same ordeal he¡¯d put Su Li through, his master could do nothing to complain. If he dared escalate and challenge me directly anyway, and I slapped him down, it would leave him looking like a fool who didn''t understand the gulf between us. It still might end in a fight between elders, but it bought me more time to master my own powers, and improved the optics substantially.

    I wasn¡¯t sure if it would improve or destroy my odds of ending this feud peacefully. Elder Li seemed like a prideful man, so it was probably the latter. But I didn¡¯t like the current chances of a man to man talk with him right now ending with us burying the hatchet.

    That just left the question of who would act as my fist.

    There were only really 3 candidates. Sun Ming. Liang Tao. And Fang Xiao.

    Sun Ming was a near total unknown to me. Even if Su Li had faith in her goodness, her lack of action at the party didn¡¯t fill me with confidence. If she was inclined to go to bat for Su Li, she would have spoken when Li Ru began insulting her.

    I¡¯d interacted with Liang Tao the most. He was apprehensive of me, but polite. And after my trip to Xianyang I was pretty sure I¡¯d given him a far more valuable spirit stone than I¡¯d intended for his help in the library. But involving Liang tao meant involving his master, and I didn¡¯t want to navigate that.

    Fang Xiao on the other hand, had potential. He appeared positively disposed towards my lecture, actually asking followup questions. He was considered a prodigy, strong enough to be within striking distance of Li Ru despite being a decade younger. He was known to accept financial gifts from elders, but steadfastly refused to accept a full disciple relationship.

    I wondered how he would react to an offer of a few lessons with no strings attached, in exchange for dueling Li Ru and perhaps thoroughly breaking a few of his puppets.

    It would be tricky, but I had plenty of material to draw from both my lives, and my recent personal experiences with sword qi to boot.

    I wouldn¡¯t mind another shot at influencing him anyway. I wasn¡¯t sure what exactly he¡¯d taken from kanye¡¯s quote, but somehow I felt certain it was self destructive.

    I stood from the stream and flicked my arm, the sheer power of the motion instantly clearing it of every trace of moisture.

    It was time to get dressed, and go talk to a man about a beating.

 Chapter 25 - Two Small Favors

    Fang Xiao enjoyed teaching the outer sect. It was far from the most efficient way to amass contribution points, especially for a disciple with his skill in battle. Hunting spirit beasts, or more intelligent prey, carried substantial risks of course, and such missions were rather variable income besides. A single fruitful hunt could pay more than entire months of poor takings. But even blacksmithing work and tutoring advanced students paid better than teaching introductory martial classes, to say nothing of the money that could be made drawing talismans.

    All the same, he enjoyed the work. He made a point of teaching at least one introductory class every few years.

    It was simply a shame so many of his students were not ready for true martial study.

    Three dozen disciples struggled through pushups as Fang Xiao ate a late lunch. He typically practiced grain liberation, but Elder Hu¡¯s strange lesson had made a temporary fad of the mortal affectation. And Qian Min¡¯s cooking was tolerable.

    He chewed on a piece of fried dough as he watched this year¡¯s advanced class struggle through their exercises.

    Cai Haoyu was slacking again. He might now understand that Fang Xiao was less tolerant than his former tutors, but old habits died hard.

    Fang Xiao scooped up a pebble and charged it with lightning.

    He flicked it.

    The boy jumped at the impact, then collapsed into a puddle of limbs. A pleasing hint of burnt silk filled the air.

    ¡°By withholding effort you only cheat yourself Disciple Cai. Again. From zero.¡±

    He paused for a moment to check the moon. There were still hours before it set.

    ¡°That applies to all of you. From zero.¡±

    The disciples halfheartedly concealed their groans, but none protested.

    He had no idea what they were complaining about, it was only two hundred pushups. Three hundred now, he supposed. Even a mortal could manage that, if they were dedicated. The earlier workout hadn¡¯t been that bad.

    It was truly a pity that the class was so lacking, aside from a few rare gems. That the slothful Cai scion numbered among those gems was doubly pitiful. He might actually be worth something one day, if he learned to bleed for it.

    He supposed the sect was much the same. A few glorious gardens of wonder surrounded by great fields of mundanity.

    Sectmaster Meng¡¯s dream was beautiful in its simplicity. A place where they could be free. Free from the stifling rules of the orthodoxy, able to walk their paths to their ends. Free to teach and learn as they wished, no matter how dark their arts, so long as they did not prey upon their fellow disciples.

    But freedom alone didn¡¯t teach. And neither did most of their elders. At least not to those disciples unwilling to bind themselves to their little fiefs.

    Perhaps it had been different, before he had withdrawn. But Meng Xiao had remained in closed door cultivation for almost a hundred years now, until that debacle with the late Elder Fan. And even now he seemed disinterested in taking a more active hand in running the sect.

    ¡°Leg raises then crunches. Two alternating sets of a hundred each.¡±

    He would be generous today, and give the disciples a soft cooldown. They¡¯d done well in sparring. Almost managed to look like real disciples and not children playing with swords.

    ¡°If I see legs that are not vertical, or elbows failing to touch knees, you will all begin anew.¡±

    Cai Haoyu quickly straightened his legs, before he earned another correction. He wasn¡¯t even the worst offender, but Fang Xiao expected better from one who¡¯d been given so much.

    That was how they thought of him, wasn¡¯t it?

    He smirked. Perhaps it wasn''t solely the fault of the sect, that so many disciples were lacking.

    It was almost funny how many claimed the title of demon in the absence of the will to seize anything at all. In the absence of virtue they loudly touted their supposed vice. Anything to wrap themselves in distinction.

    It wasn''t like the orthodoxy did better, for all that they imposed order and structure. He wondered how the slothful Cai would have fared under their tutelage, if his family¡¯s name was not so tarnished.

    ¡°Enough. Stand. If you haven''t finished your set, you will do so after I speak.¡±

    Thirty four disciples rose from their backs with varying degrees of alacrity. They made for a strange crowd. All of them were weak enough to age as mortals did, their bodies showing the truth of their years. Cai Haoyu had seen but fifteen summers. Next to him stood a muscular man who had seen easily forty, making him even Fang Xiao¡¯s senior in age. All they had in common was that they had reached the midpoint of qi condensation in their first six months in the sect. Or risen at least one small realm, if they had arrived already above it.

    ¡°Do you know why I insist that you perform calisthenics to the point of exhaustion after sparring?¡±

    ¡°Conditioning keeps you alive.¡± The oldest disciple grunted out. A former soldier likely. He wondered which nation he hailed from. Perhaps he would ask, if the man lived long enough to matter.

    ¡°You''re still thinking like a mortal Disciple Zhang. Not getting killed keeps you alive. Conditioning offers little protection against a gulf in skill or cultivation, and true bodily cultivation is far more than mere conditioning.¡±

    He paused, to see if any of his students would experience a sudden bout of enlightenment.

    ¡°You perform calisthenics after you are already exhausted so the movements become so ingrained into your body that even when your limbs scream for mercy, your form will remain flawless. Once you do not cheat on your crunches, we will move on and you will learn not to cheat on your lunges.

    ¡°Should you live long enough, one day you will find yourself fighting a losing battle. Bereft of qi, broken of body. On that day, you will be glad to discover that even when your muscles are spent and your dantian dry, your form will remain perfect. You might die anyway. But your final thrust will not waver.

    ¡°But that level of mastery cannot be learned until you can command your body flawlessly even at its weakest. Dismissed.¡±

    The moment he turned to walk away, a pair of disciples collapsed onto the grass.

    What a farce. They weren¡¯t that tired. Perhaps those two had meant to run away from home and join a theater troupe instead.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Fang Xiao noted an interesting sight. It appeared Elder Li was not the only one that Elder Hu was gracing with a surprise visit. Perhaps Sectmaster Meng wished him to audit their teachings?

    Fang Xiao quietly snorted at the thought. If Meng Xiao cared what went on in his sect, he would already know, if half the legends about him bore any hint of truth. If Elder Hu was here, it was for his own reasons.

    Why would he be here then? Was he looking for another disciple? If so, he supposed either he or the Cai boy would be the obvious candidates. But then a week ago, he would not have pegged Su Li as being any elder¡¯s choice. He still didn¡¯t see what talent Elder Hu saw in her. She was passable with a sword, but her talent with cultivation was far from exceptional. A small realm a year in the middle qi condensation was not an encouraging pace.

    Hu Xin himself was just as much a mystery. Fang Xiao still found himself turning over that lesson in his head, wondering if there was something deeper there. Qian Min had confirmed for him that the surface content was exactly what it seemed, a well presented summary of basic principles.

    It just didn¡¯t add up. That the Elder who never taught was a better speaker than many who did. That none could see what he saw in the first disciple he¡¯d taken in recent memory.

    Fang Xiao cut his musings short, as Elder Hu approached him.

    ¡°Disciple Fang.¡±

    ¡°Elder Hu.¡±

    There was silence for a moment. Fang Xiao¡¯s stomach churned in anticipation. There was opportunity here, he felt. The same instinct that had won him Elder Akayama¡¯s favor and Elder Cai¡¯s tutoring whispered to him that there were benefits here to be acquired.

    ¡°A good lesson. It reminds me of some of the lectures I received when I was a mortal first embarking on my own martial journey a lifetime ago.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Elder Hu. Your own lecture gave me much to think about.¡±

    ¡°Did it now? I must confess I do find myself curious. What exactly did you take from Kan Ye¡¯s words?¡±

    Fang Xiao paused, and looked at the Cai boy, who was lurking just at the edge of mortal hearing. Elder Hu followed his eyes.

    ¡°Did you have a question for Disciple Fang?¡±

    ¡°N-No.¡± The boy spit out, turning to leave. At least he had the sense not to intrude upon his seniors.

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    ¡°Walk with me, disciple. If you have no pressing commitments.¡± Elder Hu said, ignoring the interruption.

    As if Fang Xiao had things more pressing than a surprise visit from an elder on his schedule. Akayama and Cai were both nearly hermits, which gave him plenty of time to carefully plan his conversations with them.

    Elder Hu led him into the woods beyond the training fields, seemingly heading nowhere in particular. For several minutes, they walked in silence, before he spoke again.

    ¡°Tell me, have we ever spoken at length before?¡±

    ¡°No, Elder Hu. You congratulated me, when I attained the rank of inner disciple, but we only exchanged pleasantries.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. I have attended many of those. They tend to blend together after a time. So few live long enough to be worth remembering.¡±

    Did that mean Fang Xiao had risen high enough for Elder Hu to care? Or that he still had further to go? Again, they lapsed into silence. Fang Xiao wondered if he should answer the question he¡¯d been asked, before Cai Haoyu interrupted them.

    ¡°Tell me, what do you think of your students?¡±

    ¡°Too soft and too hard at once. Spoiled brats whose parents had no better options, and old men made brittle by hard living.¡± Fang Xiao answered immediately. ¡°But they are the best we received this year. I think perhaps ten of them might have a chance to become inner disciples in a decade or so if they remain with the sect.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think of the odds that they both survive and remain with the sect to reach that rank?¡±

    Fang Xiao saw where he was going with his questions. Elder Hu was evaluating his understanding of the state of the sect. Was he considering establishing a new disciple¡¯s union, with him at its head? He¡¯d heard they¡¯d had one decades ago, before it scuttled itself in a dispute with the Empty Sepulchre and the Liang clan. He wasn¡¯t particularly interested in such a bureaucratic position, but it rarely hurt to give a good accounting of yourself to an elder.

    ¡°Perhaps one in three to survive. Many will overreach, or find themselves too weak to do what is necessary. Perhaps one in five will have their debts bought out by their clans, or desert the sect.¡±

    ¡°You were teaching last year¡¯s initiates, correct? And their class was about the same size as this year¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°Yes Elder Hu.¡±

    ¡°So, of the hundred and fifty or so students we have taken in each year, we might expect perhaps one or two to both survive and become inner disciples.¡±

    ¡°Of those who focus on combat, yes.¡±

    ¡°Let us be generous and double that number then, to account for the other disciplines. So, for each hundred initiates, we expect one or two to remain with us long enough to eventually become inner disciples.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Fang Xiao knew the odds were bleak, but he hadn¡¯t followed the numbers to their logical end before. It made sense then, why there were a scant three hundred of them on the sect¡¯s rolls. And a full third of those had been abroad so long they might as well be assumed deserters or dead.

    ¡°In light of this, what do you think of the state of the sect? Are we ready for the challenges of the coming years? Are we equipped to grow in power and glory, to raise up new legends and future elders?¡±

    Elder Hu spoke these words calmly and quietly, as if he were commenting on the weather.

    Fang Xiao¡¯s heart beat faster. Those words were not treason. There were precious few words that were, beneath Meng Xiao¡¯s sky. But they were the sort of words that other elders would take up arms against, to protect their little fiefs. He took a minute before he answered. Elder Hu had made clear that this was not the sort of conversation that was rushed.

    ¡°I think,¡± he finally began. ¡°That we are much like any other sect. There are those who are strong, and those who are not. And that there are too few of the former, and too many of the latter.¡±

    ¡°So we are. And what do you think, when you look upon this mediocrity?¡±

    Fang Xiao¡¯s stomach felt heavy. His throat was dry, and his hair prickled the side of his face. The little voice in the back of his head that whispered when opportunity was near was all but screaming now. His next words mattered.

    ¡°I think that there are many glorious mysteries here, and that we could be more, if they were not so tightly guarded. If the strong were more willing to teach the weak.¡±

    ¡°I do not disagree.¡± Elder Hu said mildly.

    He kept walking, and Fang Xiao followed. As far as he could tell, they were simply wandering the grounds of the sect, headed nowhere in particular. He desperately wanted to know if he¡¯d passed Elder Hu¡¯s test, but the same instinct that had compelled him to speak now warned him to stay silent.

    ¡°It would be unkind of me to ask faith of you without first offering proof of my own.¡± Elder Hu finally said. ¡°Let me explain plainly what I want from you, and what I would offer in return. I was displeased to see the state Disciple Su was in when she returned from your party.¡±

    Fang Xiao almost missed a step, how had he forgotten about that? It would not be fair to blame him for what had happened, but the mighty were not bound by fairness.

    ¡°I do not hold you responsible.¡± Elder Hu continued. ¡°But while such a beating might temper one¡¯s resolve, it also rendered her unfit for any martial instruction this week. I like to think that we used our time productively regardless, but the matter left me with much to think on.

    ¡°In taking a disciple, I have in some ways compromised my ability to stand above conflict within the sect. Exposed additional surface to attack. And yet, while my reputation protects Disciple Su as much as it makes her a target, I suspect her experience was far from unique. Disciple Su informs me that you have eschewed accepting a master, despite receiving at least two offers.

    ¡°I will not insult you by tendering my own. Instead, I would ask that you perform two small favors for me, and in exchange I will offer you my aid in your cultivation without any expectation of acknowledgement as a teacher or filial duty.¡±

    Fang Xiao¡¯s tongue rasped against his mouth like a dry brush across coarse paper. Even if none of them would share their deepest secrets with him, it would still be a momentous achievement to be taught personally by three elders.

    ¡°What two favors?¡±

    ¡°First, I would have you act as a moderating influence among the younger generation. Clamp down upon the worst excesses of competition, protect those who do not have a patron to hide behind. To do your best to act as an example, to teach even those who lack talent, so long as they have the maturity to take your lessons seriously.¡±

    Fang Xiao nodded. He already attempted to do much of that, but he could certainly step up his efforts if it would secure him Elder Hu¡¯s favor. The advanced martial class was organized by the administrative hall, but there was nothing stopping him from offering his own to a broader audience.

    ¡°Second, the matter that occurred at your party must be addressed. Su Li will handle the matter with Geng Ru herself. I would not see the rancor between myself and Elder Li give rise to violence among elders. But Li Ru¡¯s insults must be answered. I would have you be my instrument in punishing him.¡±

    ¡°Li Ru is not weak. As I am now, I think he would win two duels in three.¡±

    Elder Hu smiled at him.

    ¡°Then we shall have to make you stronger. It does me little good, if your victory is not convincing.¡±

    ¡°What exactly are you offering in exchange for this?¡±

    ¡°I suppose that depends on exactly what you need. If there are places you would go, or resources you would acquire, that are too dangerous for you, I could assist you in such matters. Or, if you¡¯re more interested in knowledge, I would not mind helping you find the answer to particular questions. Or¡­¡±

    Elder Hu trailed off, then tapped the hilt of his jian. The blade leapt from its sheath like a spark from the forge, coming to a stop in the air before Elder Hu. Fang Xiao could feel the power radiating from it like a sharp sun.

    ¡°Or, perhaps I could help develop your understanding of the sword.¡±

    If he could combine his elemental qi with actual sword intent, Fang Xiao would stand near the top of the younger generation. Elder Cai knew nothing of the blade. Elder Akayama had forsworn properly wielding a weapon until he broke his chains.

    ¡°In any case, I would expect no public acknowledgement from you. You are perfectly free to claim anything I teach you to be your own discovery, if you so wish.¡±

    ¡°I accept your offer, Elder Hu.¡± There was only one answer to such terms.

    Elder Hu nodded at him, then kept walking. Fang Xiao followed along. The voice in his ear was quiet. Still, he had questions.

    ¡°Elder Hu¡­ Forgive my temerity, but why do you care about those who can offer you nothing?¡±

    The corollary, why did he care now, when he had not for so long, went unspoken. All the same, Fang Xiao felt certain it was heard.

    ¡°Allow me to answer your question with another. Tell me, Fang Xiao. What sort of demon are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what you mean?¡± Fang Xiao said, silently cursing his faltering tongue. What sort of demon was he? He felt like he should have an answer, but every boast he considered rang hollow in the presence of Elder Hu, an actual sword saint.

    ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s the wrong question. You¡¯re a little young for it yet. What does the word demon mean to you then?¡±

    ¡°A demon¡­ A demon answers to no one. They stand beyond all law but their own. They defy heaven not merely by action, but by existing outside the order it ordains.¡±

    ¡°A good answer.¡± Elder Hu said slowly. ¡°A demon exists unrestrained, by man and heaven alike. I do not disagree. I have always preferred to think that I bear no chains, save for those I forge myself.¡±

    Fang Xiao felt something in him resonate with those words. He wondered if Elder Hu had seen Elder Akayama¡¯s situation.

    ¡°But that¡¯s not all a demon is.¡± He continued. ¡°Any wandering cultivator or hermit-master can claim to be unrestrained by the laws of man, and even the orthodox defy heaven in the pursuit of immortality. A demon does not merely stand free, he dictates the shape of the world around him with no regard to the will of others.

    ¡°I am the worst sort of tyrant Fang Xiao, one who does not bother to cloak his will in the cloth of righteousness. I humble what is proud. I destroy what is unworthy. I spare what I choose to. Mercy is a virtue that only the strong can grasp.¡±

    Elder Hu turned to him and looked him in the eyes.

    ¡°I have been more involved with the world outside than I have been with the sect these last few decades. Now that I look deeper, I find myself displeased by the rot that has set in our home.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Fang Xiao said diplomatically.

    ¡°Do you now?¡± Elder Hu asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Elder Hu was not Sect Master Meng. He could not speak and see the sect reshaped to his will. But he was hardly the least among the elders, and would make a potent ally. His words aside, to accept this offer was to take a side. He did not think Elder Cai or Akayama would care, but if he did what Elder Hu was asking, he would almost certainly offend Elder Li and possibly the Empty Sepulchre.

    And yet, the offer was too good not to grasp it. He had not risen to where he was by being a coward. This was the beginning of a faction that would shift the balance of authority within the sect. And if he played his cards right, he would stand near the top of it.

    ¡°I think, Elder Hu, that I understand your will better than I understand Kan Ye¡¯s words.¡±

    To his shock, Elder Hu burst into laughter, a joyous noise that sounded out of place coming from the throat that had just boasted of being a demon without equal.

    ¡°I remain curious, what exactly you saw in his words.¡± He said, laughter subsiding. ¡°But that is a talk for another time.¡±

    It was good to know that Elder Hu respected audacity and did not put much emphasis on formality. That was something he could work with.

    ¡°You are not what I expected from your reputation.¡± Fang Xiao said slowly.

    That earned him another small chuckle.

    ¡°Good. I would hate to be so small of spirit that rumors could encompass the entirety of my nature.¡±

    Fang Xiao didn¡¯t know what to say to that. After a moment, Elder Hu continued.

    ¡°Truth be told, you aren¡¯t what I expected either. Too many blessed with your talents let it go to their heads. Now come, tell me what exactly it is that you think you would need, in order to triumph over Li Ru.¡±

 Chapter 26 - How to Rotate Your Disciple

    It was interesting, watching Su Li cultivate. When I¡¯d inspected Qin Wenyuan¡¯s ineffective attempts, there hadn¡¯t been much to look at. The internal motions of his qi had been relatively opaque to me. I didn¡¯t think I could inspect those, not without doing something very invasive with my own aura. But I had been able to feel a sort of trembling in the qi of the environment, and felt a very light pull on my own qi.

    I suspected the latter was because the old Elder Hu¡¯s cultivation method had something in common with Qin Wenyan¡¯s Ninefold Iron March, both probably targeting an element of ¡®sword¡¯ or ¡®weapon¡¯.

    Watching Su Li was a rather different experience. While I couldn¡¯t feel her cultivation in the same way I directly felt Qin Wenyan¡¯s, there was a lot more to look at. In many ways, lunar qi was opaque to me. Or perhaps intangible would be a more accurate word. When I extended my aura outwards I could sense it, especially in the quantities that it gathered around Su Li and her little lunar mirror. But I couldn¡¯t influence it, or on some level see ¡®through¡¯ it. To my nascent spiritual senses it felt like a light, self illuminating, mist.

    As she cultivated, it gathered around her in a cloud. Nowhere near dense enough to obscure her from my sight, but dense enough that I could track some of the external flows of qi manually without the ability to spiritually ¡®feel¡¯ them. The most obvious one was an interrupted umbilical cord that led up towards the moon, fading into transparency a few hundred feet into the sky. Most of the other flows were more subtle, centered around Su Li herself. She appeared to be taking in the white mist primarily through her lungs and eyes, while the largest source of lunar qi exiting from her body appeared to be somewhere in her abdomen.

    All of that was interesting, but mostly academic to me at this time. Ingressing qi via the lungs and eyes was standard for the manual, so it at least suggested she was performing the cycling pattern properly. A few manuals had claimed that the stomach and lower abdomen as a whole were a general seat of yang qi. Apparently the stomach, lower intestine, and bladder were all considered to be ¡®yang organs¡¯, because they were considered ¡®hollow¡¯ and associated with the storing and transmission of fluids. It was one of a thousand random facts of questionable veracity that were floating around in my head these days, this one coming from an offhanded mention in a qi condensation equivalent bodily cultivation manual.

    I found that very strange, I would have naively assumed hollow organs would have been considered ¡®yin¡¯, given its associations with emptiness and reflection.

    I scribbled a note down on the sheet of paper in front of me. Investigate whether yin and yang manuals are expected to expel a portion of qi from seats of the opposing complementary principle. My handwriting was atrocious, even with a cultivator¡¯s grace, I was not used to brushes.

    I was still so very far from being able to offer Su Li any truly insightful guidance on cultivation itself, but if nothing else, I was a diligent student.

    It¡¯d been a quiet two days since my conversation with Fang Xiao. In the end, he¡¯d asked me for two things, help manifesting sword intent, and for me to help him acquire some materials to forge a better sword. The latter apparently meant the blood and bones of a particular spiritual beast that was too strong for him.

    I¡¯d taken a short trip to dusk to purchase some paper and ink. Elder Hu¡¯s ring contained entire writing sets, but all of it emanated a sort of qi that made me feel like it would be a huge waste to use it on notes.

    Outside of that trip though, I¡¯d spent almost all of my time doing one of three things. Compiling notes for future lessons for my two students. Reading in the archive. And finally, trying to learn to control my sword more efficiently in its flying form. I¡¯d made the most progress with the last item, enough that it now truly felt like a deadly weapon. My current favorite trick was simply keeping it floating behind my right shoulder, cocked and loaded like a shoulder mounted missile.

    It was dangerous on the way out, but truly deadly on the way back.

    I just hoped it would be enough for whatever beast Fang Xiao wanted me to kill for him. I didn¡¯t think I could actually handle my sword for more than a single swing in his presence without destroying my reputation. Every swing I took might carry with it a profound intent that could cut nearly anything, but whenever I actually tried to chain moves together into a sequence of attacks they inevitably deteriorated into the awkward fumbling of someone who¡¯d never seriously studied the weapon.

    I was at least confident I could throw a punch and shoot a flying sword at the same time without embarrassing myself in front of an actual swordsman.

    Su Li stirred, and I returned my attention to the present. I stored my notes before she would have any chance to see they were in english. On balance, having notes in a foreign language seemed like a smaller risk than having notes asking questions about basic concepts, but I still didn¡¯t want that information spreading.

    Su Li was staring up at the moon, as the cloud of lunar qi around her slowly dissipated.

    I watched silently as she opened her eyes, and stared up at the moon. I wondered, not for the first time, what it meant to her. The sect offered a choice of several starting methods to initiates, though mastering the Liar¡¯s Breath was expected regardless of what other method they cultivated. I wondered what had drawn her to that one, and if it was significant enough that she should stick with it.

    ¡°Did you have a productive cultivation session?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes master.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± I said simply. ¡°We can proceed to the martial portion of the lesson at your leisure.¡±

    Su Li sat quietly for a few moments, and I felt a small surge of joy at the simple fact that she took me at my word. The way she at once assigned a crushing weight to my every word, yet also feared I would abandon her at the first sign of difficulty, terrified me.

    ¡°Elder Hu, I have a question.¡±

    I really hoped it wasn''t about cultivation.

    ¡°I may have an answer.¡± I was beginning to let up on my mask around Su Li, allowing some of the irreverence and snark that usually pervaded my speech to slip in.

    ¡°Liang Tao said that you had accepted me as your disciple. But I have sworn no oaths to you. I do not wish to overstep and claim to be something I am not.¡±

    ¡°What do you think a formal acceptance as my disciple would constitute?¡± I asked, genuinely needing an answer.

    Su Li took a moment to think.

    ¡°I¡­ My first teacher was my father, so I was never taught the ceremonies. I never needed them. I think I am supposed to swear to honor you as my parents, to swear not to pass on what you have taught me to the unworthy, and not to bring dishonor to your name with my conduct. Is that correct?¡±

    I had no idea.

    ¡°The world is vast, and different lands have their own traditions, but you have covered most of the basics.¡±

    I paused, and gave Su Li a look I hoped was sufficiently profound. My mind whirled as I attempted to come up with terms on the spot.

    ¡°Allow me to make clear the nature of our relationship. I require no ceremony to make explicit that which is already true.¡± I said slowly, still playing for time. ¡°You are my disciple in both name and truth. I have found you worthy of teaching. This I do freely, and without expectation of repayment, as is the duty of the senior generation to the junior. I will not teach you something, if I do not trust you to judge the circumstances in which it should be passed on for yourself. I do not demand that you honor me as a parent. Honor is earned by honorable conduct, not demanded or bought. I have seen your character, and I trust you to act righteously both towards me as your master and towards others as a representative of my teachings.¡±

    I watched as Su Li processed all of that. I watched her shoulders clench as she struggled to control her face. She kowtowed before me again, holding the pose for a long while. I watched as her back shuddered minutely, and made no comment when she wiped her sleeve across her face before rising.

    ¡°Did that answer all of your questions?¡± I finally asked. It felt trite, undercutting the weight of the moment. But I could no more bear its weight than her, knowing that I was so unqualified to teach her.

    ¡°Thank you master.¡± Su Li said to the ground, unable to meet my eyes. ¡°I do not deserve your faith in my character, but I will give all that I have to prove worthy of it all the same.¡±

    ¡°You are wrong. I do not give what is not deserved. The opposite, certainly. I am a demon, I will not weep for those who deserve better than this cruel world delivers. But if you cannot believe in yourself, believe in my judgment.¡±

    ¡°When the day I take my vengeance comes, many innocent men will likely stand between me Kang Guo.¡±

    I laughed, the sound clear and bright as a naked blade. It cut easily through the quiet of the moonlit clearing. Oh, this poor girl. How had she survived so long in this sect with such a conscience?

    ¡°Nobody seeks to master the sword for bloodless pursuits. Innocence is a hard thing to claim for any who would wield one. None who would live by the sword should fear to die by it. I would much prefer to see you walking away from the battlefield than them.¡±

    Su Li remained silent. I kept talking. One day, I hoped that she might be talked out of her quest. But today was not the day for that conversation.

    ¡°I would see you attain the heights of cultivation. I hope that you will find a place you belong, and know long years of joy and peace. But these things are not mine to assign, and your quest is not mine to gainsay. If you believe your vengeance is worth risking death for, worth killing bystanders for, you will not fail me by pursuing it.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry master.¡±

    I suppressed a sigh. Su Li was truly Canadian at heart.

    ¡°What, exactly, are you sorry for?¡±

    ¡°That I cannot promise I will survive to do that. For using your teachings for such a base and selfish goal.¡±

    I laughed again. I couldn¡¯t help it. Her earnestness hurt my soul.

    ¡°Do not apologize to me, disciple, for being less than perfect. If you could do all these things on your own, you would be teaching me, and not the other way around.¡±

    The expression on Su Li¡¯s face was absolutely delicious. Her eyes were wider than I¡¯d ever seen them. She looked scandalized by the very idea, but even more scandalized by the idea of contradicting me.

    ¡°Now stand, the night is long, but it is not eternal. I would not see the dawn come without you breaking a sweat.¡±

    I spun my own sword in my hand, then drove it, sheath and all, half a foot into the dirt. That was another little trick I¡¯d been working on, stretching the bounds of what counted as a bladed implement for the purposes of my intent. Knives had been effortless, and a wooden sword surprisingly easy. Easy enough I still worried a little about accidentally bisecting someone were I to try sparring with one. But branches and my own fingernails remained far beyond me, the sheath of my sword was roughly the limit of my current ability.

    Su Li began to set her own aside, albeit in a far less flashy manner, before I interrupted her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll work on your unarmed foundations later. Let¡¯s start with a simpler exercise. Try to land a strike on me, feel free to use any weapon or technique you wish.¡±

    ¡°Master¡­¡± She trailed off, uncertainty clear on her face.

    ¡°Disciple Su, I have risen so high I¡¯m frankly not sure it¡¯s possible for someone in qi condensation to kill me, even if I was drugged insensate. For you to draw my blood would be an honor, not a training accident.¡±

    That did it. She unwrapped her ruined wreck of a weapon and took up a stance. My words aside, I really didn¡¯t want to get cut by that, the sheer number of deep gouges in the edge made it basically serrated. I wasn¡¯t really worried though, in the worst case I could probably backpedal faster than Su Li could charge forward at a dead sprint.

    I took up a terrible bastardized karate guard, brandishing my fingers like the deadly weapons they now were, and beckoned her forward.

    Slowly, we circled each other. Once it became clear I had no interest in attacking, Su Li began to close towards me. I was pleased to see she¡¯d taken my lessons on footwork to heart, her feet moving in short crescents as she closed the distance and circled.

    I popped forward with inhuman speed, my fingers reaching out idly towards her head, just to see what she would do.

    Flinching, Su Li threw out a warding slash and I dipped back out of range, letting her regain distance.

    It wasn¡¯t a bad reaction, but it surrendered the momentum.

    Slowly, at a pace sedate even for a mortal I chased her down. Each time I closed the distance, Su Li threw out a series of conservative, defensive, attacks. My leading hand danced around them, never more than two feet from her, but never touched by her sword.

    This wasn¡¯t working.

    I stopped, straightened, and closed my eyes, daring her to try something.

    ¡°Master¡­¡±

    ¡°I do not recall telling you to stop. Strike me, if you can.¡±

    I let my aura leak out into the world, keeping it still, quiescent. This was a little risky, but Su Li was by far the safest training partner I had within the sect. I kept my hand extended out in the direction I¡¯d last seen Su Li, my fingers splayed out as if they were antennae.

    I felt it, a delicate pressure, a flash of intention, the bright flash of a desire to cut me shrouded by what I instinctively knew was a lack of genuine malice. I spun to the side, feeling the breeze of a thrust ruffle the collar of my robe. My hand shot out, blindly reaching, then retracted back viper-quick as Su Li smoothly moved into a rising slash aimed at my wrist.

    ¡°Good! More!¡± I exclaimed, genuine joy in my voice. Finally, a training exercise that was actually useful to both of us.

    I pivoted about my back foot, spinning around a slash. The intention moved closer, stepping in, and I danced back out of range of a cut aimed for my midsection. They came faster now, each cut flowing into another as Su Li shed her apprehensions and launched an all out assault.

    I danced around them all, now I was the one giving ground freely. I could hear Su Li panting as I led her on a dance around the clearing. I took another step back, and felt something firm against my heel. I leapt upwards, hopping clear above Su Li¡¯s thrust, and let my eyes crack open as I rose into the air.

    It was indeed a tree. My foot rocketed out, kicking off the trunk. I flew clear over Su Li¡¯s head, landing again closer to the center of our impromptu arena. I closed my eyes again as I landed. I didn¡¯t need them.

    Su Li¡¯s reverse thrust never had a chance of touching me, it was launched from too far away.

    There was a pause in the dance, the shrouded lantern that was her sword faded from my spiritual sight as she circled around me without striking.

    I waited, turning to track her by the crunch of fallen leaves beneath her slippers.

    I felt something new, not the intention of an attack, but instead the ghost of one, rapidly moving towards me, expanding as it moved.

    I threw myself bodily to the side, clearing a dozen feet in a single rolling dive. My shoulder slammed into a rock, but I kicked out and muscled through the awkward tail end of the roll. That would have been a horrifying bruise, if I were still mortal.

    Another pair of lunar slashes flew towards me, but they were too close together, easy to dodge with a pair of quick steps to the side.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let up! Stagger your attacks to restrict my motion!¡± I shouted encouragement, even as I spun and ducked.

    The origin of the attacks moved closer to me, as Su Li advanced behind the cover of her ranged attacks. I let her herd me backwards, even after advancing, I didn¡¯t think she had enough gas for more than a dozen of those slashes.

    As I leapt over the ninth slash, Su Li took advantage of my airborne immobility to launch an all-out assault. Three slices rocketed towards me, one horizontal at waist height, the other two at angles on either side of me.

    I could have retreated, but I had no doubt Su Li was charging forward behind them.

    A wide smile on my face, I dropped on all fours, dipping below the horizontal slash, then rose up to meet her.

    Even through tightly shut eyelids, I could see her sword descending towards my head, burning with that unearthly argent light.

    I flexed my aura, twisting it about myself like the eye of a hurricane, and her sword stopped as surely as if it¡¯d hit a brick wall. It was an edged weapon, one that shone with the intent to cut, however dim hers was in comparison to my own. Even shrouded in lunar qi, it fell under the purview of my authority.

    I heard Su Li¡¯s panting exhale, felt her sword dip down an inch as it ground against the immovable wall of my aura.

    I opened my eyes, expecting to lock eyes with my student, a manic grin plastered across my face. Instead, a fist blocked out the world.

    The world slowed to a crawl as genuine surprise shot through me. I dropped again, dipping below her fist as I abused my impossible reaction time to its fullest.

    I moved so fast my feet left the ground for what felt like a full second, my muscles pulling them upwards far faster than gravity could pull them down.

    Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

    As her cross shot over my shoulder, I executed the most textbook perfect double-leg takedown of my life. Normally, thinking was a disaster in combat, but moving this fast I had time to go through the whole checklist.

    My lead left foot landed just outside her right.

    My right knee rolled forward, planting itself in the dirt between her feet.

    My arms looped around her upper thighs, pulling her legs flush against my chest.

    I straightened my posture, a straight line running from my right knee to my right shoulder.

    My head pressed right against her ribcage, chin tucked to prevent a guillotine choke.

    I waited a moment, then another. It was only fair to give her a chance to sprawl.

    Su Li didn¡¯t react fast enough.

    I rose, pushing off my extended left leg, driving through to lift her clear off the ground. My arms twisted as I stepped forward, turning her body ninety degrees horizontally.

    I let go.

    I didn¡¯t bother to follow through on the takedown, instead just dropping her the full distance.

    As I watched her fall, some irreverent part of my mind supplied commentary.

    ¡®Get rotated idiot¡¯ I very carefully did not say aloud, as my mind flashed back to that silly video of a shark.

    Reality resumed its regular playback speed. Exhaustion hit me like a semi truck, whatever that state I¡¯d entered was, it had eaten through my qi as fast as literally regrowing flesh. Just those few seconds had burned through almost twenty percent of it, and I still hadn¡¯t quite recovered from my ill-fated attempts at cultivation.

    I stood stoically, as Su Li panted in exhaustion where I¡¯d dropped her. I kept my breathing perfectly steady, hiding my own effort, but only barely.

    Had I just slowed time by accident? What the hell was Elder Hu¡¯s original cultivation technique? Clearly swords were the focus, but I¡¯d seen hints of aeromancy in the Stormbreaker, and now some form of internal time manipulation? That was far beyond mere enhanced reactions.

    ¡°That, was excellent.¡± I said slowly, setting that mystery aside for later study.

    ¡°I didn''t.¡± She coughed out. ¡°Even touch you.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°That is not a reasonable short term goal.¡± Even as I said the words, I realized I was wrong. If Su Li had gone for a punch or kick earlier, mixed it in amongst her sword strikes while my eyes were closed, I may well have missed it if it was timed properly. Reasoning about the location of her fist from only the motion of her sword would have been tricky.

    ¡°Your footwork is cleaner, you can throw out more Waxing Crescents far faster than you could a few weeks ago. You¡¯re using the environment strategically, and planning ahead to restrict my ability to leverage my superior speed. When you backed me against that tree, you forced me to open my eyes for a moment as I reoriented myself.

    ¡°Stop comparing yourself to elders and geniuses. You are a better fighter than you were a few weeks ago. All that matters is that you continue that trajectory. If there are any words I live by, it is these: Every day, a little better than the last.¡±

    Su Li didn¡¯t respond, still catching her breath after that final sequence of blows.

    ¡°Now,¡± I continued. ¡°What have I told you to do when someone attempts a double leg takedown against you?¡±

    ¡°To sprawl.¡± A great inhale. ¡°Master.¡±

    I gave her a sedate smile.

    ¡°Guess what you¡¯re doing for the next half hour?¡±

    I could see on her face that she guessed correctly. She¡¯d been fine. She was a cultivator, and the dirt wasn¡¯t that much harder than a sufficiently cold gym mat.

 Chapter 27 - A Body

    I was sleeping, when the knock came. I was up in a moment. It was easy, when you could eschew the comforts of blankets and sleepwear. The cold of the season didn¡¯t bother me. If I¡¯d opted for a sheet, I would have been liable to simply rip it in two if it caught on something when I rolled over in my sleep.

    Instead, I simply rose from the thin futon in the center of my room, pulled at my robe to straighten it, and stepped into my slippers.

    I found Fang Xiao at the door, his hair a mess. The scent of ozone radiated from him, like cologne applied by a middle schooler. The first plaza behind him was bathed in the dim light of the morning sun, filtering through the eternal gloom of the sect.

    ¡°There¡¯s been another killing. Training ground six, by the split tree.¡±

    I nodded, as if I knew what he was talking about. I had no idea why he was telling me, specifically. Did elders handle law enforcement? Did he want me to ensure justice was done, given our earlier conversation? My stomach clenched, as I wondered if it was someone I knew. Surely he would have led with that, if it were Su Li?

    ¡°Is there anything else I should know?¡± I asked, as if I were the sort of person that should be handling this.

    Fang Xiao gulped down air like a drowning man, cycling so vigorously I could feel the ambient qi shift around us.

    ¡°Cai Haoyu found him. Ran into the administration hall shouting. Wasn¡¯t discreet. Rumors are spreading already. He didn¡¯t recognize the victim. Outer disciple. Male, young. The heart¡¯s missing, like the ones Elder Fan killed.¡±

    He took a deep breath.

    ¡°Need to go. Said I would fetch Elder Liang.¡±

    A technique? A copycat killer? I held back from asking any more questions. I just hoped I wouldn¡¯t be the only elder at the scene. Was I even supposed to be there?

    ¡°I¡¯ll meet her there.¡±

    He nodded, then tore across the plaza, actinic sparks shooting from his feet as he ran. That was kind of cool, very Killua Zoldyck, a detached part of my mind noted. Ideas rushed through me, the potential implications of lightning based acceleration, or even partial lightning transmutation. This wasn¡¯t the time. I took a deep breath. I needed to be present. Needed to be Elder Hu.

    As he passed through the gate to Elder Liang¡¯s compound, I grabbed my sword and leapt into motion.

    The blade shot from its scabbard, flying through the air in an arc. I jumped for it, then at the apex of my leap, cycled my aura in the characteristic donut of my makeshift sword flight technique.

    The pull of my qi dragged the blade upward like a magnet, my feet easily catching it.

    I flew off, clearing the plaza in a moment. As I ascended, I kept the roads just barely in sight, using them to navigate.

    It took less than a minute to reach the training grounds. A minute more to find the sixth, and the split tree.

    To my frustration, I was the first elder on the scene.

    A pair of disciples stood barely ten feet from the body, loitering with the telltale expressions of curious bystanders.

    ¡°What happened?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°Elder! We heard¡­¡± One of them yelped, then trailed off.

    ¡°Did you witness his death?¡±

    ¡°N-no.¡±

    ¡°Wait by that tree.¡± I barked, pointing. ¡°Go nowhere until I release you. Stand twenty feet apart, do not converse with each other, or any other disciple. Answer any question an elder asks you.¡±

    I had no idea what the procedure for this was, but I didn''t want them watching over my shoulder. We could interrogate them later.

    Slowly, I approached the body. I¡¯d seen dead bodies before. Seen both the waxy yellow skin of the embalmed, and eerie stillness of the freshly dead. It was hard to go a full year as an EMT without seeing at least one dead body, and I''d done three.

    I had no idea who he was. Relief flooded through me, as I took in the unfamiliar face. The odds had been low, I didn¡¯t know very many outer disciples, but I still felt a little guilty, at how relieved I was to see it was a stranger that had been murdered.

    This one was bad, would have been bad even by the standards of men far more hardened than me.

    It wasn¡¯t immediately apparent if the gaping hole in his chest was the cause of death, but it was very clearly incompatible with life. He had no shortage of other injuries. A pair of deep slashes stood out on his arms, the flesh puckering where it had split like freshly baked bread. More subtle were several stab wounds, marked only by small holes and the discoloration of his robe where they¡¯d bled freely.

    There was so very much blood. I knew the body had more than a gallon of the stuff, but never before had I seen all of it spilled out in one place. Blood drenched the grass around the corpse. So much had been shed there was no direction you could approach without crossing it. It was thick now, a dark crust atop the foliage. I stepped into it, and it crunched wetly as it ruined my slippers.

    A distant part of my mind observed that cultivators must be one of the great pillars of the local tailoring industry. Every murder ruined at least three men¡¯s outfits.

    I wasn¡¯t qualified to be doing this. I¡¯d learned more about forensics from reading on the internet than I had the few actual dead bodies I¡¯d encountered on calls. My mouth was bone dry.

    I was already here, first on the scene. It would look strange, if I did nothing. I doubted the elders would care about the integrity of a crime scene as much as modern investigators.

    I shook my head, steeled myself, and took in as many details as I could.

    The cuts around his chest had defined edges. Places where little flaps of flesh were exposed to the air. It was done with a blade, a sharp one, not an animal¡¯s claws. There were more little flaps all through the cavity. Deep gouges on exposed bone, where the blade had struck them. Thin gouges. A knife, most likely. The length of a sword would have been awkward, for carving away at his chest.

    His hands were bloody. Smeared with it, the backs as well as the fronts. The wounds on his arms had bled for a while, before he stopped moving.

    I shivered, as I tried to bend one of his fingers. It felt so wrong. I¡¯d carried dead bodies on gurneys. Cried over them. Never touched one, not in the flesh. It was stiff, but it bent. Not full rigor then.

    I touched his cheek, one of the few surfaces clean of blood. It was cool, but not as cold as the air. I grabbed his shoulder, gently leaning him forward. He was so stiff I could almost have let go, and he might have held a moment before toppling. There was another stab wound on his back, deep in his guts. With it exposed, I could smell traces of the acrid stench of chyme.

    Leaves rustled in the distance. My hand snapped to my sword. The two disciples I¡¯d arrested were still standing silently by their tree.

    A man in white robes approached from the treeline at a sedate pace. He was old. The oldest looking elder I¡¯d seen, with hair as white as the driven snow and thin enough it looked liable to blow away in the wind. His face was marked with as many liver spots as any elderly mortal¡¯s. Even with him actively restraining his qi, I could feel something unsettling about it. I wondered what art an elder of the corpse refiners cultivated.

    ¡°Elder Hu. A pleasant surprise, to see you again.¡± He remarked amiably, barely sparing a glance for the body.

    I didn¡¯t know his name. Fuck. I desperately needed to get my hands on a full roster of our elders.

    Instead of returning his greeting, I gave a report.

    ¡°His skin still has traces of warmth. He¡¯s been dead no longer than two or three shi.¡± I was glad I remembered that statistic. Six hours for the skin to be cold. Twenty four for the core to reach ambient temperature. ¡°His heart was removed with a sharp blade, likely a knife by its length. It took the killer several cuts to remove it, so the wounds on his back, arms, and stomach were almost certainly received first. A single stab wound in the back suggests he was taken unaware, then tried and failed to defend himself. The killer was likely in his own realm, to feel the need to take him by surprise.¡±

    The elder in white lifted a ghostly eyebrow. His face wasn¡¯t quite hairless, but it was a close thing.

    ¡°I was not aware that you studied such arts.¡±

    ¡°Anyone who makes enough corpses eventually learns to read them.¡± I said, shrugging.

    He nodded, as if this were a reasonable thing for someone to say. At that same plodding pace, he joined me by the body. I stepped aside, making room for him. He was, I supposed, an actual expert.

    I saw the blood squelch beneath his slippers, brush against the hem of his alabaster robe. Not a drop stained the fabric.

    From his demeanor, I¡¯d expected a workman¡¯s competence from him. A quick, efficient, assessment. Instead, his fingers caressed the corpse with a father¡¯s tender touch. He took the temperature of the forehead, then the underarm. He pulled the body forward, all but hugging it, as his fingers traced the edges of the ragged ruin of the disciple¡¯s chest.

    When he stood, the only drop of blood that clung to him was held between two of his fingers. He rolled the droplet between them, feeling its texture. He raised his hand to his nose, and took a deep sniff. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to lick his fingers.

    ¡°Closer to one shi, than two, I think.¡± He finally said. ¡°It¡¯s still quite wet beneath the surface, even accounting for the chill of the season. Not even a hint of rot. Good, it¡¯s always a shame when too much time passes before the body is found.¡±

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    Two to four hours had passed. Plenty of time for the killer to change, dispose of any evidence.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    He frowned.

    ¡°I hope that some child thought aping the late Elder Fan would provide cover for his grudge. I think that we will see more bodies before all is said and done.

    ¡°A pity.¡± He finished with an insincerity so obvious a child couldn''t have missed it.

    I was saved from further conversation by the beat of wooden wings. A great hawk carved from gray wood banked as it descended, Elder Li standing atop its shoulders. He stepped from the puppets back, and fell to the earth with a dull thump.

    ¡°Elder Shi.¡± He greeted, ignoring me. I filed the name away.

    ¡°Elder Li. Elder Hu and I were just discussing the body. It¡¯s always a pleasure to see the younger generation taking an interest in the timeless art.¡±

    Elder Li shot me a look of disgust, as if I¡¯d somehow fallen even lower in his eyes.

    ¡°Elder Liang was right behind me. I have no doubt she will divine the truth of the situation.¡±

    Even as he spoke, I heard traces of other elders arriving. The first was not Elder Liang, but a woman I hadn¡¯t yet met.

    One moment, there were the snaps of branches breaking, and the sound of footfalls like the heartbeat of a rabbit. The next, a short woman came barrelling out of the underbrush. Her nut-brown hair was cropped short, blown into a wild tangle by the rush of her passage. A few twigs stuck out of it as artfully as if they¡¯d been placed there.

    Wearing a short-sleeved version of the sect¡¯s modest robes, it was clear that she was extraordinarily muscular for a woman. Despite only coming up to my chest, her arms were nearly as wide as mine, with muscles that could have been chiseled from granite.

    ¡°Elder Su.¡± We chorused politely, my own voice a fraction of a second late on the third syllable.

    ¡°Elders. It¡¯s rare to see so many of us gathered in one place these days.¡± She greeted us, a refreshingly uncomplicated smile on her face. ¡°A pity it¡¯s not under happier circumstances.¡± She continued, the expression fading as she turned to regard the body.

    Hardly a moment later, Elder Liang joined us. Instead of running or flying, she elected to split the difference, leaping through the air as if there were invisible platforms beneath her feet.

    Yet another round of greetings ensued as she landed amongst us.

    Elder Shi and I stepped back as she approached. The other elders seemed content to let her take the lead now, and I saw no reason to disagree.

    I watched as her qi enveloped the body, swaddling it like a funeral shroud. She held a hand out before her as she worked a technique, fingers twitching as if she were sorting through the pages of a book only she could see.

    ¡°There is nothing left. The threads of karma are severed entirely.¡±

    ¡°The killer cut them?¡± I asked, when it became clear nobody else was going to speak.

    ¡°You can¡¯t cut karma.¡± Elder Liang snapped at me. ¡°His soul is utterly gone. Destroyed or consumed. A karmic connection cannot exist if one of its anchors is erased.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps Elder Xin would be able to find something?¡± Elder Li asked cautiously.

    ¡°You can¡¯t have a ghost if there¡¯s no soul left to linger and make an impression.¡± Elder Liang said slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly stupid child. ¡°Elder Xin would find nothing, because there¡¯s nothing left to find. Nothing but an empty shell.¡±

    ¡°A pity.¡± Elder Shi added, this time sounding as if he in fact was just the tiniest bit disappointed.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Elder Liang spat, her voice dripping venom. ¡°A pity. Have you nothing to say for yourself, Meng Xiao?¡±

    The world thrummed in response to her words, as if something had stepped onto a spider¡¯s web. Could he hear whenever his name was spoken? Or had Elder Liang summoned him?

    My head ached as I saw the world bend, space itself bubbling as an almighty pressure stretched it thin. Then the bubble popped, and reality righted itself.

    A man stood before us. Sectmaster Meng Xiao.

    He was outwardly unassuming. Handsome, but in an unthreatening, gentle, way. More of a scholar than a prince. He wore the same robes as most of us, silk in black and blue. His long black hair was held back by a simple white jade coronet, but he otherwise wore no jewelry.

    I felt not a trace of qi from him. Was his control that perfect? Or, I wondered, perhaps we were all merely fish swimming in the ocean of his aura? Would I even be able to notice his power, except when I stood near the outer edges of it?

    ¡°Elder Liang.¡± He greeted calmly, staring at her.

    ¡°You told us that the matter was done.¡± She hissed. ¡°That with the death of Elder Fan the threat was gone. That your vaunted vision had caught him the moment his rampage began.¡±

    She gestured at the body. ¡°Does this look done, to you?¡±

    ¡°It would appear that I was mistaken.¡± Meng Xiao replied in that same mild tone. ¡°Elder Fan must have passed his deranged arts to a disciple.¡±

    ¡°How could you have missed this?¡±

    ¡°The killer struck while my vision was focused externally. Events in the world outside the sect continue apace, I do have other things to do than protect your children from each other.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all you have to say?¡±

    ¡°Come now, Elder Liang.¡± Elder Shi cut in. ¡°Disciples live and disciples die. Let¡¯s not blow the matter out of proportion.¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say, when Elder Fan did not take any of yours. Not that you would care if he did, I suppose. What would a corpse know of love?¡± She shot back.

    ¡°How did we miss a disciple of Elder Fan¡¯s?¡± Elder Su asked, ignoring the tension. ¡°Surely this would have come up in his interrogation?¡±

    ¡°The techniques Elder Fan used left little of his mind.¡± Meng Xiao said. ¡°Consuming the souls of others has a deleterious effect on one¡¯s own. There was precious little of who the man was left, when I got to him.¡±

    ¡°Is that it then?¡± Elder Li asked. ¡°All our vaunted power and we can¡¯t even identify who killed one of our disciples?¡±

    Elder Shi sighed.

    ¡°Why would we need to do anything? Elder Hu and I are agreed, the wounds on the body suggest the killer was likely in the same realm as the victim. Any outer disciple practicing such an art is likely to be soon rendered a gibbering lunatic by the contamination of his soul. He got lucky once, his luck will not last forever. Either his own technique will end him, or our sectmaster will.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so optimistic, but it¡¯s just one disciple. We can worry when he kills someone important.¡± Elder Su added. ¡°Does anyone even know who this guy was? He can¡¯t have been that promising, if nobody remembers him.¡±

    ¡°Chang De.¡± Elder Li recited. ¡°Was with the sect for two years, third son of a mercantile family. He reached the third rank of qi condensation this year, cultivating the Empty Breath.¡±

    Elder Shi stroked his wispy beard.

    ¡°Good. Unimpressive, but the body is ours then.¡±

    That was apparently the final straw for Elder Liang.

    ¡°Remind me again, sectmaster.¡± She snapped. ¡°Why exactly do we serve you if you can¡¯t even keep order in the sect?¡±

    There was silence again, and this time I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. All of us watched as the sectmaster turned to regard Elder Liang.

    ¡°You forget yourself, Liang Ai.¡± Meng Xiao said quietly. ¡°I do not answer to you.¡±

    The sky fell upon us all, heedless of who had spoken out against the Night. Eternity pressed down, the fathomless weight of a cycle older than humanity. I felt my fellow elders around me, flickering candles before the storm, their natures stripped bare by the unyielding light of the stars. The ties of karma snapped beneath the weight of the wheel, and the artifice of man rusted to dust alongside them. Might and medicine might alike faltered, and even those who lived in death withered before the tractless aeons.

    I was not spared. I saw myself from without, watched as a blade raised in bloody revolution faltered, the hand at the hilt too weak to wield it. The timeless certainty of steel undone by an opposition that could be cut ten thousand times and yet be whole.

    It was not an attack, simply an overwhelming will, a suppression so absolute that my qi was bound within my body like a tomb. Meng Xiao loomed over us, clothed in the entirety of the sky.

    And then it was over, and he was a man again.

    ¡°Do not forget what would have been left of your clan, if I did not open my gates to you.¡± He finally said. ¡°If you are so dissatisfied with the order I impose, you are welcome to do better.¡±

    Elder Liang¡¯s fists clenched as she visibly bit back words. Without a sound, she turned and ran, leaping into the air. This close, I could see they were more like wires than platforms, invisible cables between the trees that only she could touch. Karma, connection, threads. Slowly, I was building a picture of her arts. I wondered who exactly the late Elder Fan had killed, to make her so furious? A disciple? A child? She didn¡¯t strike me as the same sort of idealist as Elder Li and myself.

    With the same rippling of space that had heralded his entrance, Meng Xiao left as well, leaving the four of us with the corpse.

    ¡°I have a furnace going that probably shouldn¡¯t be left unattended for long.¡± Elder Su said, turning to leave. I watched her retreat into the distance out of the corner of my eye. She might not exactly be a classical beauty, but even in robes it was apparent that her lower body was just as muscular as her upper.

    I wanted to say I was disappointed with what passed for law enforcement here, but it was already more than I¡¯d expected. The outer sect pretty much existed to spare elders boring chores and provide a pool for identifying talent. Why would we spend any more time than we needed to policing our servants?

    ¡°It disgraces us all, that we allow such crimes to go unpunished beneath our noses.¡± Elder Li said to no one in particular.

    Suddenly, I had an idea. What really was the difference between a burgeoning feud and a friendly rivalry? A shared goal could go a great deal towards bridging that gap, and few things would give me more latitude to plausibly pry into every inch of sect records than searching for a killer. I¡¯d been itching for an excuse to tear through the administrative hall without spawning a new round of rumors.

    ¡°Elder Li, you have a great number of complaints for a man who has offered no solutions.¡± I said.

    ¡°I am not Meng Xiao. I cannot protect the entire outer sect, only my own students.¡±

    ¡°A poor excuse. Where Elder Liang¡¯s divinations failed, more mundane methods might succeed. The killer has had hours to destroy evidence, but if they are an outer disciple, they must have been witnessed moving around the sect.¡±

    ¡°You would interrogate the entire outer sect?¡± He scoffed.

    ¡°Elder Shi, I assume you will be taking the body?¡± I continued, ignoring him.

    He nodded.

    ¡°It is ours by pact.¡±

    ¡°Would you mind examining it in detail for us, before it is processed, and delivering a copy of your conclusions to both myself, and Elder Li? I¡¯m certain your attainments in that field far surpass my own.¡±

    ¡°I can do so. Perhaps you would wish to join me, Elder Hu? It is rare to see an outsider treat our arts with the esteem they deserve.¡±

    He smiled as he answered. I wondered if he felt his mountain was given the respect it deserved by the rest of the sect. To command that death cultivator at their gate, they must be one of the most militarily powerful factions here. Even without tying my reputation to theirs, the combination of displaying interest in forensics and simple courtesy might buy me favor with him.

    ¡°Perhaps.¡± I demurred. ¡°There are many other avenues I must first investigate, before time destroys any proof that remains.¡±

    Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a change came over Elder Li. He wanted to do this, all he needed was permission. Or, an incentive to show me up. Either worked.

    ¡°Leave the body for now.¡± He barked, activating a storage ring. ¡°I¡¯ll bring it to the Sepulchre myself later.¡±

    A woman appeared before him, unnaturally motionless. He made a complex gesture with his hand and she sprung into motion, charging off into the distance. Another puppet, then. I wondered how exactly he gave her such human looking skin. The answer seemed obvious, despite how transparently hypocritical it would have been.

    ¡°I shall have Xue fetch Elder Xin. Let¡¯s see if his arts are as useless as Elder Liang expects.¡±

    ¡°Let me know if he discovers anything.¡± I said, turning towards the two disciples I¡¯d placed on the other end of the field. ¡°I¡¯m going to start with these two.¡±

    ¡°In the unlikely event you discover something of worth, you will do the same.¡± He shot back.

    I schooled my face, it wouldn¡¯t do to smile here. If I had to eventually suppress Elder Li, then so be it. I had irons in the fire there. But if I could defuse the situation by turning his attention towards a good cause?

    Well, it paid to have options.

 Chapter 28 - Interrogations and Autopsies

    Su Li hadn¡¯t known what to expect, when she was awoken by a knock at her door. It was barred, of course. As were the windows. No disciple too poor to afford protective formations slept with their windows open. Not that her shutters were sturdy enough to keep out a determined mortal, let alone her fellow disciples, their slats ill-fit and half rotted.

    She rolled out of bed, grabbing her father¡¯s sword. She drew it silently, positioning it behind the cover of the door, ready to thrust. She hated that she¡¯d practiced this. In one smooth motion, she threw the bar aside, cracked the door, and stepped back just far enough to avoid any sudden attack.

    ¡°What?¡± Su Li cringed as she spoke. The word just snuck out, in her bleary confusion.

    Fang Xiao was quite possibly the last person she expected to see standing at her door in the middle of the morning. He looked perfectly groomed, despite the early hour, his silly impractical hairstyle as flawless as ever.

    ¡°Get dressed. Elder Hu needs you.¡±

    Su Li flushed, at the reminder she was only wearing her inner robes. Her stomach fluttered, first in fear, then in excitement. Elder Hu wouldn¡¯t be in danger. She was the last person he¡¯d need if he was. But whatever was going on, she was important enough an inner disciple had come to fetch her. She slammed the door and quickly threw on her robes.

    She relaxed, as she opened the door fully and saw that Fang Xiao wasn¡¯t alone in the clearing at the center of her residence block. Despite the late hour, disciples gathered in twos and threes in yards and doorways, chattering like old drunks. Fang Xiao had a good reputation, but the only true safety in the outer sect was in numbers. It was in the dark corners and secluded groves that bad things happened to the naive.

    Something had happened. But why was Fang Xiao, of all people, here for her?

    ¡°Someone killed an outer disciple and staged the body to look like one of Elder Fan¡¯s victims.¡± The chatter quieted, as every ear in the courtyard began listening in. ¡°Elder Hu has ordered that every outer disciple who might have seen something be interrogated. He¡¯s begun interviewing everyone who lives near training ground six, or was seen by another disciple near the area in the late hours of last night.¡±

    What? But she hadn''t- ¡°As his disciple, you should be there to assist him.¡± Fang Xiao continued. ¡°Walk with me, I¡¯ll explain further on the way.¡±

    Her mind raced. It was safe, probably. Fang Xiao had invoked her master¡¯s name, in front of a dozen witnesses. If anything happened to her, there would be no way for him to escape responsibility for it.

    She followed him into the dim morning sunlight, heading towards the training grounds at a light jog.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t spoken to him since I informed him about the killing. But he''s begun deputizing disciples who were present at the scene to handle organizing the outer sect.¡±

    Su Li was confused. Why was Fang Xiao inserting himself in this? Was he hoping to curry favor with Elder Hu? Elder Hu had never mentioned so much as knowing who he was, they¡¯d only ever discussed him in passing, after the embarrassment she¡¯d made of herself at his party.

    ¡°But, why did you come to get me?¡±

    ¡°Elder Hu and I share some common interests.¡±

    ¡°What interests?¡±

    ¡°Ask him. If he hasn¡¯t told you, that¡¯s his business. I simply wish to see a killer brought to justice, and so I am supporting Elder Hu¡¯s efforts in what small ways I can.¡±

    Ah, she saw his meaning now. He wasn¡¯t merely currying Elder Hu¡¯s favor, he thought he already had it. Of course Elder Hu had other students. If he was teaching her, surely he was also teaching someone more talented. Fang Xiao just didn¡¯t want it publicly acknowledged, for whatever reason.

    No. No, that was the wrong way to think about it. She¡¯d cast her own insecurities onto Elder Hu too many times. He¡¯d answered every doubt she presented to him with a warmth and care that was completely unlike his public reputation. Elder Hu had told her that she was worth teaching. To wallow in pity at her lacking talent would be to spit upon his judgment and benevolence.

    If Fang Xiao too had proved himself worthy, then she would simply have to prove herself worthier.

    ¡°So, who died?¡± Su Li asked blithely. She¡¯d broken down crying, the first time a member of her class of initiates had been butchered on a hunting trip. ¡°And why is there any doubt about who killed them? If it happened at the training grounds, how did they escape the sect master¡¯s eyes?¡±

    ¡°Those are more questions for Elder Hu. I might be better informed than your neighbors, but Sect Master Meng only deigned to speak with the elders, when he put in an appearance.¡±

    <hr>

    It''s incredible how lonely it can be, being surrounded by hundreds of people. It¡¯d begun with two. Xiao Xifeng and Han Yanlin, the pair of disciples I¡¯d found skulking around the body. After I¡¯d split them up and interviewed them separately, I¡¯d put them to work rounding up the rest of the outer sect. They¡¯d taken to bossing their peers around like fishes to water.

    Reading between the lines of their testimony, I rather suspected the two were secretly dating. They insisted it was a ¡®friendly rivalry¡¯, but friendly rivals sparred maybe once a week, not every other day for hours at a time. If it was an act, it was an incredible one. They all but oozed that special sort of teenage awkwardness, when everyone but the two of you realized that you¡¯re already a couple in all but name.

    It was cute, watching the two of them bickering about organizing the stream of disciples flowing in and out of the house I¡¯d commandeered was a bright spot in this long, dreary, morning.

    I hadn¡¯t cleared them, I didn¡¯t have sufficient evidence to clear anyone without an airtight alibi at this stage. But they weren¡¯t at the top of my list, and I¡¯d needed someone to do the grunt work.

    Once I¡¯d decided that I was going to interview anyone who might have seen anything, the entire world had simply reconfigured itself to make it happen. I¡¯d wandered into one of the little neighborhoods of small cabins where the more established outer disciples lived with two strangers shadowing me. They¡¯d turned out houses, organized people into lines, all with minimal input from me. One disciple had volunteered his house, on account of possessing the luxury of a full dining set. Then two had become four, when Su Li and Fang Xiao had simply shown up, the former still a little bleary from having just been woken up. Four had rapidly become a dozen, as the first four deputized others I¡¯d already spoken with. The small neighborhood had swelled with people, as hundreds of disciples were roused from bed, organized into lines, and one by one called in to speak with me.

    This had all been my idea, but now that I was waist deep in the process, I was terrified. I had no idea what I was doing. I¡¯d never investigated anything before, most of my knowledge on the subject came from police dramas and browsing wikipedia. But I didn''t need answers, just leads. Something that other elders with their magical investigative techniques could latch on to.

    I watched the latest disciple sweat. Literally. The poor man was one of those stress-sweaters.

    ¡°I¡­ I think I saw Li Qiao there as well.¡± He stammered. ¡°He passed by towards the end of the rat¡¯s hour.¡±

    I scratched down another tally mark on my notes. Li Qiao had been seen within a thousand feet of the scene by more than a dozen people. Almost all of them put him as having passed by closer to the rat¡¯s hour though, which encompassed midnight. My tentative timeline suggested the deed had been done two to four hours after that, in the early morning. The constant conversions between the two hour zodiac hours they used here, and the shorter one twenty-fourth of a day hours I was used to was starting to become second nature. I needed to stop doing that. Start thinking entirely in terms of the local clock. The killing had been between the ox¡¯s and the tiger¡¯s hour.

    ¡°Did you see anything else abnormal that night?¡± I asked, the words all but a script at this point. I was trying to move through these as quickly as I could, I¡¯d been at it for almost five western hours already and only completed about eighty of them. I¡¯d already begun pawning disciples who were neither mentioned by previous testimony, nor claimed to be at the scene, off on my helpers for their first interviews.

    For all the power of an elder, I could still only talk to one person at a time.

    A drop of sweat rolled down¡­ Who was this guy again? Luo Cheng, according to my notes. An outer disciple loosely affiliated with the Beastblood Peak, who hadn¡¯t earned a residence there yet. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, as he visibly racked his brain.

    ¡°It was quiet. More quiet than normal. There are some birds in the outer sect that sing even at night, but they were all quiet last night.¡± He finally said.

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    I notched another tally mark, this one next to ¡®Eerie Silence¡¯. That was the fourth disciple to mention an eerie quiet at the scene prior to the killing taking place. It was vague, but significant enough I¡¯d put it in my executive summary for the other elders. I added his name by the phrase, that bit with the birds was more detail than I¡¯d gotten from the others.

    ¡°Master Hu.¡± Su Li said, peaking through the door. I wondered if that was the first time she¡¯d ever addressed me as master in public. ¡°Elder Shi has requested your presence, he says he¡¯s ready to begin preparing the body.¡±

    I very deliberately did not smile. It would have been macabre, and out of character besides. But I desperately needed a break from talking with strangers. It was exhausting, in a way that running for days had not been.

    ¡°Thank you for your time, Disciple Luo. You will be notified if I have further questions, you may return to your duties.¡±

    Return to his sleep, more likely.

    ¡°Disciple Su.¡± I continued, rising from my chair. ¡°Work with Fang Xiao to finish interviewing the outer disciples that have already gathered. Be sure to note down any who are alleged to have visited training ground six between midnight and early morning. Also list anyone known to be a friend or enemy of the late Disciple Chang. I don¡¯t think this was personal, but we¡¯ll want to talk to them in more detail later.¡±

    A female disciple in all white met me outside. She was pale, paler even than what was considered beautiful here, blue veins standing out starkly beneath skin the color of glass noodles. From the material of her robes, and the grace of her movements, I suspected she was an inner disciple. Despite her cultivation, she had dark shadows under her eyes, and a sort of reddish-purple tinge around the tips of her fingers. She was no corpse bride, but the overall impression wasn¡¯t exactly one of health either.

    It left me wondering, how closely exactly the disciples of Elder Shi toed the line between life and undeath.

    ¡°Follow me.¡± She commanded tersely. I obeyed in silence, happy to have a guide to my destination. She was fast enough that only a few minutes later we were standing once more before the great gate and its undead guardians.

    Now, after feeling the weight of what Sect Master Meng was, I could tell the death cultivator standing atop the gate was the same sort of being. Those two were the first time in this new life that I''d stood in the presence of beings that were¡­ more than me. Void-Shattering, the scrolls called it. Some instead used the name of Spirit Venerable, or even Immortal Bone Creation, but the names all meant the same thing. The last realm, before immortality. The names felt trite, compared to the sheer weight those beings exerted on the world. I hated it, hated the way their mere presence left the taste of rot on my tongue, left the very air in my lungs heavy and oppressive.

    Was it any wonder that cultivators were so motivated to rip and tear their way to the heavens, after experiencing what it was like to stand in the presence of something that was more than you in such a fundamental way that its mere existence threatened to erase you?

    We crossed beneath the old monster, and like the ants we were, it allowed us to pass.

    My sword itched, as if it were a fifth limb.

    As we passed farther from the death cultivator, the emotions it inspired slowly faded. I wondered how Elder Shi controlled it. If he even controlled it at all.

    The inner disciple led me deeper and deeper into the peak. We climbed its surface for a mile, then passed into a cave. For every step we ascended, we also moved one step deeper into the center of the mountain.

    Eventually, I was led into what was clearly a mortuary. Amidst stone chambers topped with bodies in various stages of dissection, stood Elder Shi.

    His robes were somehow as spotless as ever, vibrantly white even in the yellow light of candles.

    ¡°Elder Hu!¡± He greeted with a joy that felt as genuine as it felt inappropriate. ¡°I¡¯m so pleased you were able to join me, in our humble temple to the oldest of mysteries.¡±

    ¡°Elder Shi. It is an honor to visit your peak.¡±

    He stood before a great stone table, the body of the late Chang De stretched out atop it. His chest had been cracked open, even more of his flesh carved away since I''d last seen him.

    ¡°You may leave us, Disciple Hao¡±

    The unsettling woman retreated in silence, leaving us alone with the body.

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve already begun your work.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I saw no sense in waiting before beginning the first stages of preservation and infusion. I¡¯ll be passing his body along to lesser refiners later. With no soul remaining, he has no chance of awakening in death, there is little reason to dedicate more than perfunctory effort towards refining his corpse, but less sense still in squandering what potential does remain.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± I lied. There was a lot there to chew over later.

    ¡°You were right, that he was attacked from behind. The greatest congregation of death qi is present in that wound, the least in the great hole in his chest.¡±

    ¡°The removal of his heart was posthumous then?¡±

    ¡°Almost certainly. But then, you didn¡¯t come for confirmation of the obvious. Hold these retractors for me, please.¡±

    Gingerly, I took the thin steel handles from Elder Shi.

    ¡°Pull.¡± He instructed, as he cut lower with a thin knife. I pulled the abdominal walls even further to the sides, as his other hand dove into what remained of the poor young man¡¯s intestines. The squelching noises his fingers made as they rooted around were the stuff of nightmares.

    ¡°The core of his cultivation should have been in his middle dantian, but even at such a modest realm, there should be signs of development in his upper and lower dantians as well. More in the upper, considering how subtle an art the Empty Breath is. I haven¡¯t opened his head up yet, but look here.¡±

    Elder Shi pointed with his free hand, lifting the folds of some structure I didn¡¯t recognize with the back of his knife. Thin black marks like electrical burns stood out starkly against the dark pink flesh.

    ¡°He has qi burns all along his principal lower meridians. Unless he¡¯s been cultivating another primary method, I don¡¯t know what sort of internal technique would have caused that. I think it¡¯s far more likely that his killer absorbed more than just his soul.¡±

    ¡°You think he stole Chang De¡¯s cultivation as well?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. There was little to be worth stealing in that regard. Anyone capable of performing such a technique could no doubt easily reach the third level of the first realm in short order on their own. What impresses me is the violence and thoroughness of the technique. To rip a soul from its housing while below core formation is remarkable on its own, but those burns suggest that the technique bears similarity to a soul-search or even a furnace absorption. He might have taken memories, a portion of his cultivation base, or even an elemental affinity from the victim.¡±

    He paused, thinking.

    ¡°I have no doubt the technique has most deleterious effects on its wielder. To make it function in the hands of a neophyte, it likely requires a most violent manipulation of the attacker¡¯s soul, to say nothing of the dangers of absorbing another soul into their own. But even with such limitations, it is a most remarkable art.¡±

    ¡°I see. Thank you, Elder Shi. This is very useful information.¡± I lied again. What was I supposed to do with this?

    ¡°I usually find the dead more interesting than the living. But I think there is much I could learn from whoever invented that technique. Or even from a disciple with only the most basic understanding of it.¡±

    Was that a request?

    ¡°I think that a great many people will be very interested in Chang De¡¯s killer, when we find him.¡±

    Elder Shi nodded.

    ¡°True, too true. But, perhaps Elder Liang and our esteemed Sect Master will not dispose of this one so quickly as his late master. I would not object to an opportunity to put my own questions to him, before he meets his end.¡±

    ¡°I will keep that in mind.¡± I said. ¡°But, might I ask that you in return refrain from spreading the sordid details of this technique farther than necessary? It strikes me as exactly the sort of thing that might inflame fear and greed among those of poor character.¡±

    ¡°Why Elder Hu, you seem to have read my mind. It¡¯s always pleasant to see one¡¯s juniors taking responsibility for the moral probity of the masses. I would hate to see such a temptation placed in the hands of those who might be foolish or desperate enough to use it. But, there is much that could be learned from the principles of soul manipulation that must underpin such a fell art. Why, it makes a man wonder if such principles might be turned towards the cause of waking the dead from their slumbers, before they drink of Lady Meng¡¯s brew, and forever shed their attachments to their last life.¡±

    ¡°I could see the benefits of such an art.¡± I said mildly, panicking internally. I was out of my depth here. I had no idea what the implications of such a thing would mean for the balance of power in the sect, let alone the moral implications of living on as a death cultivator, rather than reincarnating.

    On the other hand, I didn¡¯t want that knowledge getting out either, and alienating Elder Shi, who was apparently old enough to consider me his junior, felt fraught as well.

    ¡°Tell me, Elder Hu. What do you think of death?¡± He asked, withdrawing his hand from Chang De¡¯ stomach. It was once more eerily spotless. ¡°I¡¯ve not had the pleasure to speak with you at length before, but from reputation alone, I¡¯ve no doubt you¡¯ve seen enough of it.¡±

    That was a heavy question, considering who was asking.

    ¡°In my youth, I was fond of saying that I intended to live forever, or die trying.¡± I began, speaking as honestly as I could within the identity of Hu Xin. ¡°I think that¡¯s a sentiment all cultivators can appreciate to some degree. All of us strive for true immortality, even if most of us will one day be forced to accept that we will never achieve it.¡±

    I swallowed.

    ¡°I once heard a sage say that death is the last enemy that will be destroyed. I do not agree with him, not entirely. But I do agree that death is an enemy, to be fought to the last, only ever accepted when he comes in the surety of his victory. I¡¯m not convinced that the existence of a death cultivator is preferable to reincarnation. But, were my own lifespan at its end, and someone offered me such a choice, I am not certain I would reject it either. It is an ugly thing, death, such a final conclusion to our lives.¡±

    ¡°An interesting perspective.¡± Elder Shi said, wiping his thin knife, an implement that looked as much a butcher¡¯s tool as a surgeon¡¯s. Unlike his hands or robes, the little white silk napkin immediately stained a brilliant red, as it drank down Chang De¡¯s blood. ¡°It pleases me, that you are honest that you do not yet see the beauty in my art. There is much I can show you, of the beauty and horror of death, if you would open your eyes to see it.¡±

    ¡°I would be a fool to dismiss the teachings of one as learned as you out of hand.¡±

    ¡°Good. Bring me that saw, then. Let us see if Chang De¡¯s upper dantian suffered the same damage as his lower.¡±

 Chapter 29 - To Stare Into the Dark

    It was a dark and dreary night. I had a strange relationship with that word these days, night. It was the time of business and teaching. Darkness might cast shadows over every face, but our inhuman eyes saw well enough by the light of the stars alone. It lent everything a strange, liminal sort of flavor. The soft darkness made every interaction feel intimate, as if your small group were the only humans in the world. The sheer size of the sect added to the effect. When a cultivator could cross miles in minutes, there was no real reason to put buildings within a hundred feet of each other save for the convenience of outer disciples.

    But even the magic of cultivation couldn¡¯t make sitting alone in the darkness less lonely. I sat at my desk, poring over papers by candlelight. I¡¯d shuttered the windows, to keep out prying eyes, leaving my candle the sole source of light in the room. The guttering flame cast strange shadows through the space as it flickered. All the paintings the old Elder Hu had adorned his walls with took on an eerier aspect in the half-light. Stylized waves were dyed a bloody rust, the most innocuous of portraits grinned like demons in the dark.

    I liked it. It felt congruent, that my home should feel like a prison decorated by a gay monster. It fit my frustration like a glove, letting me wallow in the mood.

    This investigation was a clusterfuck. There was no structure, no professionalism, beyond what I had injected into the process. And what a sorry effort that was. I¡¯d gotten my hands on a full roster of the outer sect after I¡¯d already finished interviews for the day, and I hadn¡¯t even gotten everyone in the complexes closest to the training fields. Even delegating the work there had simply been too many disciples to give each more than a cursory interview, to say nothing of the dozens we¡¯d missed because they were ¡®out¡¯ and neither their neighbors nor the administrative hall had the faintest idea where they were.

    Two ideas had been running through my head, as I ran about the sect conducting my half baked investigation. What could a modern man notice that an elder accustomed to this world wouldn¡¯t? And what could I see with elder Hu''s senses, discover by leveraging by unique advantages?

    The answer appeared to be absolutely nothing. Nothing of value at least.

    There was simply too little information, and too much that did not add up.

    What I knew for fact scarcely filled up scarcely three lines of characters. What I suspected strongly enough to rely upon barely a page. My unanswered questions sprawled across two whole pages.

    I knew there had been nothing so prosaic as fingerprints in the blood. I¡¯d checked, exhaustively, before allowing the body to be moved. Elder Shi had been insistent that every drop at the scene had belonged to the victim, so there was no way to use Elder Liang¡¯s techniques to find the culprit through that connection.

    Elder Hu¡¯s sword sense had been useless. I¡¯d spent hours lingering in Elder Shi¡¯s morgue, attempting a sort of rudimentary psychometry. I had felt the impression of the weapon that had killed Disciple Chang. But it felt¡­ It felt like the Gray Honda Civic of swords. It was a weapon. It¡¯d been used to kill, but not too many people. It was well made, but not remarkable. It had no magical properties or elemental affinity.

    The only useful thing I could tell was that it was a sword, not a saber. That still left my ideal suspect looking like a full third of our outer disciple¡¯s daily carry. I just might be able to pick the weapon out of a lineup, but I definitely couldn¡¯t identify it from any other being carried around the sect.

    I knew more than forty people had been within five miles of the victim at the moment of his death. Cultivators had good ears, but that was still an improbable distance for a scream to carry. Dozens of people had instantly given up their peers as being present at the scene, and more than a few had made insinuations about the character of their rivals, how a brutal murder would be just up their alley. Unfortunately, every single one of them had alibis.

    Few people came to training fields alone after all. If you wanted to train solo, you did it in the wilds, where there were no prying eyes.

    Not a single person had dared make an actual accusation before me. If anyone had actually witnessed the murder, they weren¡¯t coming forward. I could push further there, track down disciples who had been away from home, cross reference group¡¯s stories with each other, but I wasn¡¯t optimistic about actually catching anyone out. There were simply too many suspects, and no guarantee our killer was even among them.

    And finally, I knew this whole situation made no sense.

    How had the killer known the Sect Master wasn¡¯t watching? There was no way that he¡¯d timed his attack so perfectly by coincidence. Not unless Meng Xiao was spending a lot more time viewing the outside world than his reputation suggested.

    How did someone so weak that they wanted the advantage of surprise to kill a disciple four small realms behind Su Li have a technique so godly that Elder Shi thought they could learn from it?

    Why had Elder Fan been executed so quickly? How did he have such a soul cultivation technique, when his specialty had been said to be curses?

    After helping Elder Shi conduct Chang De¡¯s autopsy, the next thing I¡¯d done was raid the archives. The very first thing I pulled was the official report on Elder Fan¡¯s rampage. It had been written by one Meng Qiuyue, apparently the sectmaster¡¯s disciple or child. I assumed he¡¯d dictated it, being too important to bother filing documents himself.

    I had hoped that it would shed some light on the situation.

    Unfortunately, the sectmaster¡¯s story had holes in it wide enough to drive a truck through. I hadn¡¯t said anything, because I was not actively suicidal, but plenty about the official version of events didn¡¯t add up. I¡¯d finished reading with even more questions than when I¡¯d begun.

    Allegedly, Elder Fan had killed twenty disciples in a short time, using a forbidden technique to devour their souls. It wasn¡¯t specified how many of the victims had their souls removed, but it implied that it was all or most of them. Allegedly, Sect Master Meng Xiao had detected his rampage, and summarily detained and executed him. The report did not provide an official timeline of events.

    Few of those details added up.

    If Elder Fan¡¯s soul devouring technique required physically removing the heart, how had he done twenty before being stopped? I could probably kill twenty disciples in under a minute, but I doubted I could remove more than two or three of their hearts in that time, let alone perform a presumably complex technique with them.

    My current theory was that Meng Xiao had been distracted then too, and took minutes or hours to react.

    Which would imply Elder Fan had also possessed a way to know when our resident big brother wasn¡¯t watching. I could see why the Sect Master might want to conceal that.

    But why the summary execution with no interrogation? Did covering up the gap in his detection technique merit that? How could the man¡¯s mind be so far gone he didn¡¯t remember teaching that technique to a disciple? Had Meng Xiao even bothered to interrogate him?

    The whole thing stunk of the Sect Master wanting to cover up something more significant than a lapse in vigilance.

    I was well and thoroughly stumped. Given what I knew, I didn¡¯t see any real effective way to move forward, short of waiting for the killer to strike again.

    I groaned, and rubbed my hands across my face. It was still strange, that I didn¡¯t get those little crusty things in the corner of my eyes any more. I grabbed my cup, took a sip of tea, and winced. It was cold.

    I wanted a real drink, but spiritual wine fit for a nascent soul cultivator wasn¡¯t something you just swung down to the corner store to pick up.

    I¡¯d learned a few more useful things from my trip down to the archives. I did draw an income, but it wasn¡¯t on a schedule, I had to come down to the building to collect it. 400 spirit stones a year, plus a variable payment based on completed missions. The rent on my little house was automatically deducted from the account. I wasn¡¯t sure if twenty five spirit stones a year was extortionate, or a good deal for one of the smallest places in what was considered one of the most desirable neighborhoods in the sect. But it was good to know I could easily get more space, if I wanted to give up a non-trivial fraction of my income.

    The whole thing was chronicled in a small book, complete with notations explaining what missions the original Elder Hu had undertaken, and what he was being paid for them. A worrying percentage of those missions were basically marked ¡®classified, he knows what he did¡¯, rather than referencing a public report. Looking at the frequency of those classified payments, I could be assigned such a job at any moment, but was almost guaranteed to get one within a year. Another thing to look forward to.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    I probably needed to take a normal job soon anyway, the old Elder Hu had taken a  publicly posted mission, mostly group escorts and hunting requisitions, every few months.

    I sighed. What was I even doing here? I wasn¡¯t qualified to be handling any of this.

    I could probably run. This week had revealed a variety of limitations on Meng Xiao¡¯s techniques. He couldn¡¯t watch more than one place at a time. He couldn¡¯t look backwards in time, or track someone only knowing where they had been in the past.

    He could teleport within the sect, but I doubted he could do that outside it. It simply didn¡¯t make sense. If someone a realm below immortality could simply be anywhere they wanted in an instant, there would be no way for people like Qin Longwei or the king of the Shan to hold territory.

    I could escape, leave all the problems of the sect behind me. To say I was sticking around here for safety, just to survive, would be to lie to myself. Hell, Su Li would probably follow me. I couldn¡¯t even honestly say I was staying for her.

    But all the same, I did want to stay here. Not just for my student, the safety of numbers, or the steady income.

    If I truly mastered the original Elder Hu¡¯s powers, I would be perhaps the fifth most powerful person in the Pathless Night. I was now relatively certain that my cultivation was somewhere between mid and late nascent soul. Sectmaster Meng and the death cultivator at the gates stood a full realm above me. Elder Shi and Elder Liang had felt within striking distance of my own cultivation, perhaps late and early Nascent Soul respectively. Elder Li and Su had both felt weaker, almost certainly within core formation.

    There might be another couple of elders stronger than me, certainly Elder Xin seemed like a contender, from the way even the brash Elder Liang had been polite to him, but it seemed like the majority of them were in core formation.

    Could I really change this place, if I built a coalition of elders and disciples with grudges against the status quo? If I wrapped myself in glory from successful missions, brought back powerful corpses for refinement, could Elder Shi be convinced that taking measures to assist and protect our living disciples would yield him stronger corpses in the long run? Could I turn the Sect Master¡¯s apathy to my advantage if I made managing the sect take less work for him? Could I live next to Elder Liang¡¯s harem of dubious origin, and Elder Li¡¯s human skinned puppets?

    Were our disciples monsters in the making? Or just outcasts willing to do anything for the chance at clawing their way to a better life?

    I had no more idea of the answers to those questions, than I did who killed Chang De.

    But all the same, I wanted it. I wanted to change this place for the better, to make it somewhere I could live without hating myself. I wanted all the power and resources Elder Hu was entitled to. I wanted to transform his cultivation into something that suited me. I wanted to surround myself with people I could love and trust, in a home that felt like it deserved the name.

    Above all I wanted to be safe, from the threat of losing it all a second time.

    But if I wanted to have any chance of making all that happen, I couldn¡¯t start my record off with a loss. I needed to fix this, find this killer, but I couldn¡¯t do it alone. I turned back to yet another of the lists on my desk. The victims of Elder Fan¡¯s original rampage, copied into my own chicken-scratch handwriting. Some things, it appeared, transcended even death.

    There. A familiar surname, appearing twice. Elder Liang could help make this possible, if her techniques worked the way I suspected they did. The only question was the angle I approached this from. She was lustful, vengeful, and possessive. She was weaker than Elder Xin and I, but considered herself our social equal. She¡¯d hated the way the Sect Master dismissed her grievances, her dependency upon him for protection.

    I could work with that.

    <hr>

    Four hours later, I found myself again sitting in Elder Liang¡¯s tea room, the dull orange-pink light of the dawn creeping in through gossamer curtains. For all Fang Xiao¡¯s desire to avoid publicly tying himself to me, he was remarkably adept at acting as a go-between. When I¡¯d asked him to arrange a meeting between the three of us, he¡¯d gotten back to me with a confirmed time in less than half an hour.

    I was pretty sure Liang Tao was his go-between with Elder Liang, but I wondered if he approached Elder Li personally.

    Elder Xin was missing this time, but otherwise it was the same group I¡¯d met with a few weeks ago. Three elders, and Liang Tao to serve us tea.

    I wondered if he considered the duty an honor, or a curse. I shivered. I would have talked back a lot less as a teenager, if my own mother had been capable of slaughtering a hundred grown men without breaking a sweat.

    Elder Li sat to my side, visibly frustrated.

    ¡°I hope, Elder Hu, that having taken the time to call us together, you have something more than wild rumors to share.¡±

    ¡°I must admit some measure of disappointment, with the amount of information I was able to gather. If you were more successful, perhaps you would like to share your conclusions first?¡± I said, punctuating my invitation with a sip of tea. It was a white blend this time, with hints of orange and rose.

    Elder Li grimaced like he¡¯d bit into a lemon.

    ¡°Elder Xin proved unable to provide any further information. Due to the manner of his death, Chang De left no ghost behind that might be interrogated.¡±

    ¡°Of course he didn¡¯t. I told all of you, no soul means no karmic connections, no ghosts.¡± Elder Liang cut in, her tone acid. ¡°Please, tell us something we don¡¯t already know.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure Elder Hu has some more information for us.¡± He demurred.

    I pulled two sheafs of paper from my ring, passing one to each of my peers.

    ¡°I took the liberty of compiling my findings into a short report. I¡¯ve included the results of Elder Shi¡¯s examination of the body as well. To summarize, more than forty disciples were present within five miles of the scene at the time of Chang De¡¯s death. None of them claim to have seen the murder itself. All of them claim to have been training with at least one other disciple at the time of the killing.¡±

    I continued speaking, as the two elders leafed through the report. I¡¯d taken the liberty of omitting a few factors, such as Elder Shi¡¯s musings about the other potential applications of the killer¡¯s technique. I¡¯d also refrained from directly stating anything about the killer¡¯s clear awareness of our Sect Master¡¯s blind spots.

    ¡°So, we have a long list of suspects, and know no details about the killer that doesn¡¯t fit a large fraction of the outer sect.¡± Elder Li said, unimpressed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not optimistic our killer is even on that list.¡± I added. ¡°The training grounds are not well secured, with no elders present, it would be trivial to approach them from within the treeline without being detected.¡±

    ¡°So for all the reams of paper you and Elder Shi produced, you¡¯ve gotten no closer to finding who killed Chang De.¡±

    Elder Liang frowned.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll just have to see to the safety of my own clan. I suppose it was too much to expect any better.¡±

    ¡°That is an option. We could bunker down, and each see to our own houses.¡± I agreed mildly. ¡°But I would prefer to take a more proactive approach.¡±

    ¡°And what, exactly, do you mean by that?¡± Elder Liang ground out through gritted teeth. ¡°Your investigation has proved itself just as fruitless as our Sect Master¡¯s vaunted vision.¡±

    ¡°Our honored Sect Master clearly has better things to do than worry about so lowly a killer. I do not see any reason to further trouble him with the matter, when we could handle it ourselves.¡±

    There was an intake of breath, from both my peers, as I strayed so close to directly criticizing the Sect Master. I really hoped my read of him was accurate, if he was listening in. Elder Liang¡¯s eyes locked on my own, her surprise clearly visible. It appeared that Elder Hu was indeed known to be in the Sect Master¡¯s camp politically.

    ¡°My own skills are hardly suited to this sort of subterfuge.¡± I continued. ¡°But Elder Shi and I don¡¯t think that this killer is going to stop at one soul. I see no reason why we shouldn¡¯t be better prepared for the next time he strikes. I don¡¯t have any technique that would allow me to identify that a disciple was being attacked, or where they currently were. However¡­¡±

    I let the thought trail off, hoping they would take it up. Elder Li¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°You want to use our students as bait.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think this killer will be as brazen as Elder Fan.¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to target any of our direct disciples, even if he can overcome their superior cultivation, he would expect them to have life-saving treasures, or a way to alert their masters.

    ¡°I want to use random outer disciples with no public connection to any of us as bait. I want to seed as many poisoned fruits as we possibly can throughout the outer sect. So that the next time this fool tries to take what is ours, he chokes on it.¡± I finished.

    ¡°And so you come to me.¡± Elder Liang said slowly. ¡°Because I would know the moment a fool dared to lay hands upon a member of my clan.¡±

    ¡°In this, your skills far outstrip my own. I am not too proud to beg aid when my talents are insufficient to the task at hand.¡± I said shamelessly.

    She smiled at the recognition. Then her face darkened.

    ¡°Fan Xiaotong took Yan¡¯er from me. Took her child from me.¡±

    ¡°If we are to handle apprehending this killer ourselves, I see no reason why we should not handle his punishment as well.¡± I said, answering her unspoken question. It would be difficult, appeasing both her bloodlust and Elder Shi¡¯s curiosity, but I would burn that bridge when I got to it.

    ¡°Elder Fan took what was mine.¡± Elder Liang said slowly, venom dripping from every word. ¡°He could have suffered a hundred deaths and it would not have repaid what I am owed. I will see every trace of his lineage scoured from the earth.

    ¡°A stone perhaps?¡± She muttered to herself. ¡°No, a thread would be easier. One made two, but bound together still.¡±

    Elder Li watched me carefully, his customary scorn replaced by a wary curiosity. I wasn¡¯t foolish enough to think that meant his opinion was moving in a positive direction. No, he¡¯d simply now marked me as dangerous in a different sort of way.

    ¡°You will have your trinkets, Elder Hu. We will seed your poisoned apples, and you will deliver Elder Fan¡¯s misbegotten disciple to my care.

    ¡°And when I am done with him, he will beg for the oblivion his master inflicted upon my daughter.¡±

 Chapter 30 - Elder Huéˆ¥æªš Sword Manual - 1

    It¡¯s always funny, just how fast life moves on after a tragedy. It¡¯s different if it¡¯s your tragedy of course. Then the light goes out, and you feel like nothing will ever be right again. But for the rest of us, who never really knew the victim, the weight of their death fades like a dream in the morning light.

    To me, Chang De was a name. A face that I only remembered frozen in its death mask on the operating table. To most of the other elders, he was a statistic. A trendline to watch. To our disciples, he was a reminder that life was short and violent, and for all the timeless monotony of life in the sect, holing up here wouldn¡¯t protect them from knives in the dark. To the three elders who had gathered that morning over tea, he was a promise. That we would find who did it, and repay them in full.

    But Chang De wasn¡¯t a person, not to us.

    I¡¯d never met Chang De. He¡¯d attended my lecture, apparently. I¡¯d probably seen his face a few times, since he lived on Dusk. I''d learned the village at its base was named after the peak itself. But I couldn¡¯t have told you his favorite fruit, whether he¡¯d had a happy childhood, or pointed him out in a crowd. From the looks of things, very few people in the sect could have.

    In the end, after his body disappeared into the Empty Sepulchre, all he really left behind were rumors. Disciples whispered about everything from Elder Fan¡¯s vengeful ghost trying to claw his way back to life, to an orthodox assassin living amongst us. It wasn¡¯t great for morale, but it wasn¡¯t really destabilizing either. There was a certain fatalism to it, nobody ever really contemplated leaving the sect aloud.

    Even if faith in Sect Master Meng¡¯s omnipresence had been shaken, few were interested in tempting fate.

    Two days after Elder Liang had promised that I would ¡®have my trinkets¡¯, Liang Tao delivered a lacquered box to my house. Within were fifty pairs of gossamer-thin bracelets, each pair woven from a single thread of silk. A short note was enclosed, explaining how they worked in elegant calligraphy. Each bracelet maintained a connection to its partner, and when one was broken, the other would snap as well. Then the second stage of the enchantment would activate, and they would begin gently pulling themselves toward each other, giving me a way to locate the disciple who¡¯d called for help.

    They were far from perfect, I was already dreading handling the inevitable false alarms that such a fragile item would cause. But they were an elegant solution, one that would give me a fighting chance of reaching the next victim before they were killed.

    After considerable thought, I¡¯d delegated their distribution to Fang Xiao. I¡¯d given him a few pointers. I wanted Su Li and Qian Min to have one. I wanted my name kept out of it as much as possible, so I told him to just say that Elder Liang had created them, and an elder would respond if they were broken. If I caught the killer, credit would naturally follow. If I didn¡¯t, there was no sense in attaching my name to the matter, it would only worsen my own reputation. It was a little unsettling, just how swiftly the inner disciple had inserted himself into my affairs. Scarcely a week after our first real conversation, he had already made himself my most convenient option for arranging meetings and organizing disciples.

    It made him incredibly useful to me, but I had no doubt he was aware of that, and planned to eventually use it to his own benefit. I¡¯d initially pegged him for more of a young master type, secure in his talent, and focused on his own development; rather than the savvy political operator he was proving himself to be.

    In part because of this, I¡¯d spent the last few days working on the lecture on sword intent I¡¯d promised him. If I was going to rely on him, I needed to figure out whether I could teach him enough to keep him firmly in my camp sooner rather than later.

    I¡¯d chosen a different grove for this conversation, farther from the rest of the sect, with plenty of untouched nature for more pointed demonstrations. At my back, a great cliff of exposed granite rose up into the sky.

    Elder Hu¡¯s sword sat across my lap. I idly stroked its scabbard with my fingers, smiling as I felt a tension slowly building within the sword, despite the half inch of wood between us. I envisioned stone splitting, a flash of silver creating a new, more perfect, fracture in the structure of the cliff. My blade responded, shivering with a barely repressed violence to my spiritual sense.

    I watched it carefully with mundane eyes, struggling to mark any trace of the intention it radiated. The will to cut. I¡¯d spent hours reading treatises, experimenting with my own intent. In the end, I was forced to concede I understood little about the phenomena. And yet, so many who¡¯d bothered to author books on the subject seemed to know less still. Truly, the one eyed man was leading the blind.

    Fang Xiao and Su Li arrived side by side, and I greeted them with a nod. I was pleased to see that Fang Xiao had taken my offhanded suggestion that Su Li might appreciate an escort to heart. I didn''t fully trust him, but it would have been out of character to offer one of my own. We were quite deep in the woods. It would have been difficult to find me, if I hadn¡¯t taken the liberty of extending my aura into the surrounding woods.

    ¡°Elder Hu.¡± ¡°Master Hu.¡± They said at the same time.

    The two shot looks at each other, but I waved a hand, forestalling whatever was going to come next. I had no interest in another conversation about the difference between a student and a disciple.

    ¡°Sit, and make yourself comfortable. I will speak at some length, before we progress to more practical exercises.¡±

    They did so, choosing spots of earth ten feet from each other, Fang Xiao pulling a small cushion from a storage ring before sitting. I waited in silence for a moment, appreciating the stars. This was not a moment for haste.

    I breathed in, tasting the sky.

    Fuck it. Let this one be for all the marbles. I was tired of pretending to be something I was not. It was one thing to speak vaguely and act profound. Another to lie while wearing the mask of a teacher. I would simply have to show them what I¡¯d learned, great gaping holes and all. It would be enough, or it wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°You are both here, because you have expressed interest in learning to manifest sword intent.¡± I began. ¡°Before we begin in earnest, it is important to me that you understand something. I am perhaps the worst person to teach anyone to master the sword.¡±

    ¡°Master-¡± Su Li began.

    ¡°Quiet.¡± I barked, a harsh edge I had never used before with Su Li entering my voice. ¡°This is not an art to be pursued with blinkered sight. Neither pride nor pity has any place here.¡±

    I tilted my hand, shifting the pommel of my sword to face the night sky.

    ¡°I am the worst person to teach you how to manifest sword intent, because I found it to be a relatively effortless process. I suffered greatly to attain my intent, but I attained that power through the intersection of fate and talent.¡±

    I rose, and walked towards a tree. I angled myself carefully, so that it would not hit my students. I drew my blade, and through the corner of my eye I saw both disciples wince. No silver light shone forth, but after almost two hours of meditation it felt so sharp it could cut your eyes as you looked upon it.

    ¡°And yet, I am also the best possible person to teach you to touch such a mystery. Because I can do this.¡±

    <hr>

    Su Li¡¯s breath caught in her chest, as Master Hu gave his sword a gentle toss. It flew through the air in an arc, the blade¡¯s angle stable as an arrow¡¯s flight. With the inevitable certainty of an object falling free, it touched the edge of gnarled old pine Elder Hu stood facing. And then it fell, right through the tree. There was no sound, no flash of power. No change in the sword¡¯s trajectory. It simply fell through the tree, as if the wood of its trunk was as insubstantial as the air.

    Elder Hu¡¯s hand darted out, catching the weapon by its grip.  Su Li shivered at the very thought of touching something that sharp.

    At first slowly, then all at once, the top half of the tree slid to the ground. The rustling of leaves filled the air, then stilled, surrendering to the hush of the night.

    ¡°This is the simplest of contradictions that I will ask you to understand this day.¡± Elder Hu said in a quiet voice. ¡°Because that is all I have to offer you, contradiction. Sword intent is something I cannot teach you that you already possess. It is of qi, but is not qi. It was a quality of neither the blade, nor the technique behind it. It is something I command that I cannot claim to understand.¡±

    He sheathed the blade, its edges still painfully sharp to Su Li¡¯s eyes. She could almost feel it from here, like the time she¡¯d rubbed her father¡¯s razor against her own hairless cheek.

    Elder Hu stared intensely at the two of them, searching their eyes for something. Su Li looked away. She wished she had whatever he was looking for. Wished she knew what it was.

    ¡°This lesson will be a meandering thing, but there are three topics I intend to cover. The first, is what sword intent is, what few things about its nature I know for certain. The second, my thoughts on the nature of swords, and those who would wield them. The third, my best guesses at the exercises that one might attempt to improve their chances of awakening their own intent.

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    ¡°If you have questions, voice them as they arise. This is no lecture hall.¡±

    Only quiet answered him.

    ¡°Very well. As I said before, sword intent shares some qualities with qi.¡±

    Elder Hu swung his arm, driving the scabbard of his sword deep into the hard-packed earth. With a twist of his hand, he pointed a lone finger upwards, and his sword leapt from the scabbard to join it. Again, Su Li winced, squinting despite the dark of the night. She could barely see the thin sliver of steel hovering in front of her master, but she could feel it all across her skin.

    ¡°Intent allows a swordsman to cut both the material and immaterial. Without qi of its own, stone and steel alike offer no more resistance than silk. Sword intent can break formations and spells, bridging the gap between material steel and immaterial qi. This is all widely known, and these two properties are chief among the reasons so many cultivators seek to awaken their own intent. However, this bridge flows in both directions. As intent can cut qi, it may also be manipulated by compatible qi.¡±

    With a flick of his wrist, Elder Hu set his sword spinning in place before him. Another gesture sent it rising into the air, before it began circling about the perimeter of the clearing, flying just above the tops of the trees.

    ¡°In the hands of one who possesses sword intent, every sword is a potential flying sword.¡±

    ¡°Elder Hu.¡± Fang Xiao suddenly interjected. ¡°Does that mean that an enemy sword cultivator can manipulate his opponent¡¯s sword with his own qi?¡±

    ¡°A good question. Certainly, though it¡¯s not usually a very efficient technique. To do it effectively generally requires one to stand at least a full realm above their enemy. To do so requires you to both fully overcome any qi your enemy has expressed into their weapon or the space around them, and then still have enough strength left over to affect their weapon despite the fact that their intent will likely only partially intersect with your own cultivation.¡±

    ¡°Their foe¡¯s intent?¡± Fang Xiao echoed. ¡°Would that not be the sword cultivator''s own intent?¡±

    ¡°No. It is possible to generate sword intent in a weapon without touching it. But using your own intent to control a weapon another is wielding is a skill more difficult than using your own cultivation to influence another¡¯s intent.¡±

    Su Li realized that was how he¡¯d blocked her final swing, when he¡¯d asked her to attack him. She¡¯d thought it had been a technique of some sort, when her sword had stopped an inch from his face, as if she¡¯d struck a wall of steel.

    ¡°Master.¡± Su Li asked, following the thought. ¡°Does that mean that I already possess sword intent?¡±

    Had that been why he chose her, above all the other students who¡¯d begged him for tutelage? Had he seen a talent in her even she had overlooked?

    Fang Xiao¡¯s eyes leapt away from Elder Hu, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. She flinched at the naked hunger in his eyes, as if by staring hard enough he could somehow divine the secrets of the sword. It almost felt more unwholesome than if he¡¯d been ogling her body.

    Elder Hu laughed, shattering the tension. He smiled, the intensity he¡¯d carried since he¡¯d begun speaking about the sword diminishing slightly.

    Fang Xiao startled at the sound, quickly averting his eyes. Despite herself, Su Li smiled too. How embarrassed the mighty inner disciple looked. What would his legions of hanger-ons and admirers think, if they saw him now, chastised like a child caught trying to sneak sweets?

    ¡°Yes, I suppose it does, but not in the way you think.¡± Elder Hu replied thoughtfully. ¡°We come now to the crux of my understanding of sword intent as a phenomena, what exactly it is. I have read a great number of treatises on the subject written by other sword cultivators of renown. I have not found most of them to be compelling. Unearned confidence and foolish certainty abound. Understand, that if I know anything about sword intent, it is that I do not fully comprehend it. And neither do most of those fools who claim to have mastered it.¡±

    Su Li shifted, suppressing a silly urge to defend her master against himself. She¡¯d seen what he could do with a sword. But if he thought he barely understood what sword intent was, who was she to argue with him? What did she really know of its nature, beyond that it was a power she coveted?

    She remembered a quiet night that belonged to a different life. Her mother had retired early, putting the twins to bed. It had just been her and her father, sitting alone in the parlor. Embers smoldered in the hearth, in the warmth of the summer there was no need to feed the fire through the night. Su Han¡¯s sword had laid across his lap, as he gently rubbed a cloth across it. She still remembered the smell of linseed oil and cloves. It had been one of the first things he taught her about swords. One always used perfumed oil, if they could. To remind the spirit of the weapon that there was more to the world than blood.

    She¡¯d asked him about sword intent. The boys of the village had been playing at being heroes, and the phrase was on the tip of every tongue.

    ¡°It¡¯s the simplest thing in the world, Li¡¯er.¡± He¡¯d said absently, patting her on the head. ¡°All one needs to do is cut, and mean it. But men are too afraid to mean what they do. They live in every moment but this one.¡±

    Elder Hu¡¯s voice jolted her back to the present.

    ¡°Qi is malleable. It might burn like a fire, or rage like a storm, but through cycling a cultivator can strip away or change the aspects it carries. Transform the tranquil energy of a spirit stone into a bolt of lightning, or even transmute it into flesh and blood. Sword intent is not so flexible a power. Qi is power that carries purpose. Intent is purpose that carries power. A cultivator who lacks what we typically refer to as sword intent does not lack intent entirely. In fact, the ability to swing without any form of intent is another talent entirely, one I think a clever assassin could make good use of. Rather, their intent is too weak to influence the world, or the qi around them.¡±

    ¡°Is that how blindsight works? A sword cultivator perceiving their opponent''s nascent sword intent?¡± Fang Xiao asked.

    ¡°There might be other ways to achieve the same outcome, but I can confirm that is one of them.¡± Elder Hu said. Blindsight. Was that what he used to dodge her attacks? ¡°On that subject, my sword is no longer floating above us. I¡¯ve taken the liberty of concealing it amongst the vegetation. Identifying its location without rising from your seat would be a promising first step to developing your own intent.¡±

    Elder Hu lapsed into silence at that. Su Li sat up straighter, focusing. She remembered that sensation, the incomparable sharpness of his blade. It was absent now, and yet traces of it lingered all around her. But where was it thickest?

    She opened herself to the world around her, listening to the whispers of the moon. But she only had the spiritual sense of a qi condensation disciple, she could only feel the reflections of the world around her, not cast out her qi to seek out where Elder Hu had hidden his blade.

    She opened her eyes, peeking at Fang Xiao. He was intently focused, clutching his naked sword in one hand, as if the touch of steel would help refine his senses.

    Perhaps it would?

    She turned to her own weapon. Su Han¡¯s nameless blade.

    ¡°Master Hu.¡± She began, her mouth moving before her mind caught up. ¡°What exactly is sword intent?¡±

    ¡°You mean beyond the merely mechanistic sense?¡±

    She wasn¡¯t sure what that meant, exactly.

    ¡°My father once said that all one needed to have sword intent, was to cut, and mean it. But most men are too afraid to mean what they do.¡±

    Elder Hu nodded at her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he was wrong. Sword intent is a deeply personal thing, the product of our own relationships with the very idea of swords. Its nature and form is not merely colored by our thoughts and histories, but a product of them. No two intents are the same in power and application, nor are the journeys any two swordsmen took to attain them. But his explanation shares the same flaws as my own, it is an attempt to put something ineffable into words. Sword intent is a phrase. But the thing it signifies, the phenomena we are trying to describe, is not a thing of words. Words can cut, but they do not cut in the same way a sword does. This is a road you must walk on your own. The best any teacher can hope to do is to illuminate a direction by dint of word and example.¡±

    Through the corner of her eye, she watched Fang Xiao stare at them as they spoke. His eyes were open now, though he still tightly clutched his own sword. She wondered if Fang Xiao¡¯s other teachers favored the same familiar demeanor with their students as Elder Hu. She somehow doubted it. She couldn¡¯t imagine telling Elder Li or Elder Xin anything about her father. They probably wouldn¡¯t even believe her. Elder Hu had not even questioned that her father might have manifested sword intent.

    ¡°Elder Hu¡­¡± Fang Xiao began, before trailing off. ¡°You said that sword intents are different, between different people. Could you share, what your own is like, what it feels like to you?¡±

    Elder Hu lifted an eyebrow.

    ¡°That''s a very personal question.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me my temerity.¡± Fang Xiao immediately sputtered, bowing his head. ¡°I was merely curious about the way your own intent manifested.¡±

    ¡°Be at ease, Fang Xiao. I am not one to punish curiosity. If you overreach, I will simply refuse to answer. That said, that is not a question I mind answering. Security through obscurity is the most fragile of defenses. It''s one thing to have a few trump cards, another entirely to rely on the core of your arts being secret. It¡¯s simply a difficult thing, to condense the whole of your relationship with the sword into a few words.¡±

    He thought for a moment, before continuing. A sharp aura rose around him, the mere act of considering his intention sufficient to manifest it.

    ¡°My intent is¡­ purer I think, in comparison to the sword intents of others.¡± He finally said. ¡°It is not as destructive. It does not linger in wounds, nor taint what is cut. It is still, rather than violent. Subtle, rather than domineering, as much as a sword can ever be subtle. It is the very idea of Severance given form, the will to take that which is whole and impose division upon it. It has a few other quirks that give it interesting tactical applications, but that is the core of what it is. Does that answer your question?¡±

    Fang Xiao swallowed.

    ¡°It does, Elder Hu.¡±

    ¡°I think that this is a good place to stop then. We will resume here three nights hence. Before then, I would like each of you to set aside a few hours and meditate on the blade. Do not actively cultivate, but instead choose an activity that you might perform with a sword or knife. Dedicate your attention to it as completely as you can, and focus upon the sensation of cutting, and what exactly the blade means to you. An uncertain sword will never cut the heavens.¡±

    Elder Hu rose to his feet, then squatted low. With a thunderous crack, he leapt into the air like a carp attempting the Dragon Gate. As his leap reached its apex above the top of the trees, his missing sword shot out of the distant woods, and he caught it with his slippers.

    As Master Hu soared off into the night, Su Li swore to herself that one day, she would fly beside him.

 Chapter 31 - Elder Huéˆ¥æªš Sword Manual - 2

    Two disciples walked through the shadowed woods, side by side. Every so often a hand would reach down and brush against the hilt of the swords they each carried at their sides. And yet, though the night around them rustled and trilled with unseen life, their stances were relaxed. It was not fear nor wrath that drew their hands to their weapons like lodestones.

    ¡°Is Elder Hu always like that?¡± Fang Xiao asked, breaking the silence.

    ¡°Always like what?¡± Su Li replied, already bristling at the very possibility of any insult to her master.

    Fang Xiao didn¡¯t think that Su Li liked him much. Elder Hu¡¯s disciple was unfailingly polite to him, but she was cold, in a way that he rather suspected was not simply her natural demeanor. When he¡¯d asked Sun Ming about the girl, his senior had said Su Li was a kind young woman who¡¯d taken to the sect like a fish to the mountains. She¡¯d then politely advised him that if he took advantage of Su Li in any way, she would feed him his own fingers.

    Fang Xiao had no intent of doing anything to Elder Hu¡¯s student. but in truth he found the idea of a fight with Sun Ming more of an incentive than a deterrent. It¡¯d been four years now, since the inner sect¡¯s Red-Handed Gardener had last taken a public match. He was more than a little curious to see how much his senior had grown under Elder Su¡¯s tutelage.

    ¡°Elder Hu seems¡­¡± He trailed off. What exactly was Elder Hu? Every elder was eccentric in some way, he¡¯d expected that. Neither Elder Cai nor Akayama were known for their manners after all. ¡°I had not realized that Elder Hu¡¯s scholarly attainments matched his martial ones. I did not expect him to place such esteem on an intellectual understanding of natural phenomena, nor display such exemplary humility in its pursuit.¡±

    There. Let the prickly girl find fault with that.

    Su Li considered him for a moment, before her scowl softened. Fang Xiao shot her a well-practiced grin, and it returned instantly.

    Oh, he could see why Senior Sister Sun liked this one so much. She really did wear her heart on her sleeves.

    ¡°Elder Hu is Elder Hu. His knowledge of the great dao is as boundless as his magnanimity. Who am I to judge the manner of one who has taught even this untalented disciple so much?¡±

    Fang Xiao let the non-answer pass uncontested. Su Li seemed as much her master¡¯s creature as Liang Tao, despite the recency of her discipleship. Without of course, the deep undercurrent of fear and covetousness that lay between his friend and his mother.

    It was understandable, really. His favor and teachings had completely changed her prospects. Fang Xiao could feel that she¡¯d grown since the incident with Geng Ru, only a single small stage, but that was a heady attainment indeed for a matter of weeks. It was too early to lay credit for her growth at her master¡¯s feet, but if she kept advancing at even half that pace, Elder Hu would rapidly find himself one of the most sought after teachers in the sect.

    Even Sect Master Meng¡¯s daughter had supposedly taken six years to reach foundation establishment, with all her advantages.

    Fang Xiao could see what Elder Hu was doing. The ploy was no less effective for its transparency. Show him the value of his teachings at a small initial price. First it would be a small dispute against a lesser elder. Next a greater favor, with more publicity, until his name was tied to Elder Hu¡¯s. The question was why, why did the formerly retiring elder now care about building a faction. And was what he offered worth the price of whatever he intended to use that faction for?

    Fang Xiao was not interested in Elder Hu¡¯s teachings if the price was the blind loyalty Su Li displayed. That sort of faith simply was not in his nature. But teachings for favors had been his bread and butter since joining the sect, and more lectures like the last would buy a great deal.

    Fang Xiao hadn¡¯t been sure what he¡¯d expected. He¡¯d been taught by masters at arms and lesser sword cultivators, but all their teachings had been similar, in the end. They showed him forms, shapes the body could take and the many transitions between them. And then they had him spar, until he ingrained those many sequences upon his bones, and understood how to move between them to cut down men.

    Elder Hu¡¯s had shown him a new direction to study, a dimension to swordsmanship he¡¯d never really considered.

    ¡°What are the other elders you study under like?¡±

    Fang Xiao considered the question. No doubt anything he said would make its way back to Elder Hu, but the elder wasn¡¯t an adversary. Just an unknown.

    ¡°It took three years for Elder Cai to remember my name.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Most of those who study under her pay in labor for the right to browse her personal library. If she speaks to disciples, it¡¯s almost always just to direct the nearest person to do something for her. It wasn¡¯t until I learned to command lightning that she cared to speak to me personally.¡±

    ¡°That sounds better than how most of the martial elders handle finding students. Fairer.¡± Su Li said wistfully.

    ¡°You can¡¯t master the sword from scrolls alone anyway. If anything, the barriers for studying under Elder Cai are higher than under Elder Xin or Elder Wang. She expects her students to arrive already possessing a command of mathematics that most scholar-officials lack. And that¡¯s the qualification merely to work under her, it¡¯s far harder to earn her personal attention.¡±

    Su Li fell silent again, and they continued walking. Albeit walking at a pace a mortal would call an aggressive jog. Fang Xiao could see now why Elder Hu had elected to teach these lessons so far in the wild. Closer to the sect, his unveiled intent alone would have drawn dozens of gawking swine.

    ¡°When did your father attain sword intent?¡± He finally asked. He wasn¡¯t sure that he believed Su Li, but he wasn¡¯t rude enough to doubt her to her face. There were perhaps a dozen in the Pathless Night who had attained sword intent. Rare was the kingdom that could boast more than a hundred such experts in their population, let alone their service. That Su Li claimed such august parentage, but had entered the sect without resources or connections, spoke of scandal or tragedy.

    ¡°He served in the army of the Qin. A captain, in foundation establishment.¡±

    Ah. It was tragedy, then. A rising star on the losing side of a less than civil war. One did not need the mathematical talents to serve under Elder Cai to perform that sum.

    ¡°I see.¡± Fang Xiao said, after an unseemly pause. That statement suggested many things, but confirmed few.

    ¡°Why did you join a demonic sect, instead of following in his footsteps then?¡±

    To his surprise, Su Li burst into laughter at his question.

    ¡°You¡¯re from a cultivator clan, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Fang Xiao answered with a frown. ¡°What of it?¡±

    ¡°That makes sense.¡± Su Li said smugly. ¡°Women can¡¯t enlist.¡±

    ¡°What? Plenty of women serve in the Qin army.¡±

    ¡°No, plenty of cultivators serve in the Qin army. Glass Flower disciples and clan daughters. The rare wandering cultivator bearing a royal warrant. Mortal women can¡¯t enlist, the closest to the army they¡¯ll ever get is as camp followers.¡±

    ¡°Surely they would have made an exception for you? If you brought your father¡¯s seal?¡±

    ¡°At four and ten? Perhaps they would have opened a spot in the officer¡¯s academy, or some sect, for me if I was a prodigy of cultivation, already on the cusp of foundation establishment. Or if my family had the money to pay for my training.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Fang Xiao repeated.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure you do.¡± She shot back. Fang Xiao almost snorted. How like her master she sounded, in that moment. He was still curious, what exactly Elder Hu thought he had seen in Kan Ye¡¯s words.

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    ¡°Would it really have been that hopeless, to expect the empire to sponsor you?¡± He continued. ¡°If your father had approached my clan, they would have had him married or adopted in a heartbeat.¡±

    ¡°The difference between a man who commands sword intent and might achieve core formation before fifty, and his daughter who can boast of neither, is like night and day. The moment he died, I became of little interest to the powers of the empire as anything beyond a third wife for a lesser son, a gamble that talent skips a generation.¡±

    ¡°And so you came here.¡±

    ¡°And so I came here. The orthodox sects rarely take destitute students, after all.¡±

    ¡°It must have been a great shock. Coming here from a orthodox kingdom, with little exposure to the society of cultivators.¡±

    ¡°Hardly. I think most of the male disciples have it worse in that regard. Any woman who makes it here has already learned that without true power she is property, waiting for a new owner. The Pathless Night is kind in its own way, to those of us without talent or prospects.¡±

    They walked on in silence for a time, slowly drawing nearer to Elder Hu¡¯s appointed grove. She resented him, Fang Xiao could tell. He didn¡¯t really care. So many did. It was such a compelling excuse, to blame those who had been born with what they lacked, for their own struggles.

    ¡°You know why I¡¯m here now. But what about you?¡± Su Li suddenly asked. ¡°What made you leave your clan behind?¡±

    He thought about it. It had seemed so clear at that moment. Such an obvious choice. But now, he honestly wasn¡¯t sure, what exactly had been the final straw.

    ¡°The only free men in a cultivator clan are the patriarch and the young master. And I was not born to serve. But when I looked out upon it, all my ancestors had built seemed too petty a thing to kill my brother over. So I left.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Su Li said.

    He thought about saying it. That he really didn¡¯t think she did. It had a pleasing symmetry. But he held his tongue. She was interesting, this junior. He¡¯d been hasty, in his initial judgment of her. He fell quiet, and returned to his meditation. Her story was a good reminder. He¡¯d gotten complacent again. So what, if he was more talented than all his peers? His brother would be right at his heels. And he wasn¡¯t even the one Fang Xiao had to surpass.

    He¡¯d lingered too long. He would advance to the eighth stage of foundation establishment before the new year. One way or another, he would forge a way forward, even if it was imperfect.

    <hr>

    I arrived early for the second lecture on sword intent as well. I didn¡¯t need the spare hour to charge my weapon this time. I just liked the little grove, I didn¡¯t need to restrain my qi so closely here, where there were no prying eyes or innocent bystanders. As I passed by a tree I reached out with my aura, the shroud of qi that naturally formed around me if I didn¡¯t pull it inwards. I focused and pulled, swiping a small extension of it like a blade. The leaf fluttered downwards and I caught it with another gathering of qi, a delicate cloud of power holding the thin leaf like a hand formed from ten thousand needles.

    I pulled it towards my outstretched hand, marveling at how it slowly drifted towards me. And then the wind gusted. The leaf floated up, pressed against my needle-grip, and promptly shredded itself into green dust.

    Damn. I grabbed another. There had to be something I was missing. My qi didn¡¯t exactly seem suited for gentle work, but every sword had a flat side. I refused to believe I was incapable of telekinesis, I just had to find an angle that would make it possible. As I was now, I couldn''t imagine trying to simply carry a human with my qi directly, not even myself. Not when I was shredding two in three leaves.

    I frowned. Or, perhaps that was the trick? I needed a target with qi of their own to resist the destructive influence of my aura?

    I set the leaves aside as I felt presences approaching in the distance. I pulled my qi inwards, condensing it into a great roiling column extending a few feet around me. I kept the eye of the storm carefully centered around myself, to avoid shredding my robes. A whirlwind of soil kicked up around me, as my bladed aura reduced any hints of my experiments to dust.

    I wasn''t sure what exactly they might think I was doing, but I wasn''t keen on explaining myself. I waited quietly, as the two disciples took up their seats.

    ¡°I spoke a great deal of the sword in generalities, the last time we gathered here.¡± I began speaking without fanfare. ¡°Before I continue to do so, I would hear what the sword means to you. For what end, do you pursue it? What miracles would you seek to embody, at the end of a blade?¡±

    It was a little unfair, perhaps. A little dramatic, for certain. But here, where a single sword could alter the fate of nations, a little drama seemed appropriate.

    ¡°Master.¡± Su Li spoke first. ¡°I thought about what you said, about how sword intent is personal. How everyone¡¯s sword is different.¡±

    She swallowed.

    ¡°I think¡­ I think that to me, the sword is a way to draw closer to distant things. To my father. To his killer. To a future where I can stand on my own two feet. A means to cut away that which stands between me and what I seek.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°A bold dream. A difficult road.¡±

    That was¡­ more eloquent than I¡¯d expected. More abstract. But then, I¡¯d invited exactly that. It was a good dream though, if perhaps naive about what a sword was for. I looked at Fang Xiao.

    ¡°I am not interested in killing, except as a means to an end. I don¡¯t want to stand alone in a field of corpses. I pursue the sword to compel obedience. To have the power to reorder the world.¡±

    ¡°A tyrant¡¯s dream, then. If a gentle one.¡± I said quietly.

    ¡°There must always be a tyrant. Better it be me, than another.¡±

    That was about what I expected, from Fang Xiao. It seemed my off the cuff speech about being a tyrant had resonated with him. I found myself wondering exactly how he intended to change the world. A line of questioning for another time.

    ¡°Today, I will tell you a story. A woman, who walked the road of the sword further than most others. The life she lived, and the deaths that followed. But first, I will speak a little about the sword itself. The sword is the truest weapon. Spears and bows are a hunter¡¯s tools. An axe, a peasant''s friend. A knife is an essential component of many professions, from the fletcher to the chef. A sword exists for the purpose of creating ghosts. It can cut bamboo, or slay a deer. But an axe or a spear can do that better. For this reason, it is the principal weapon of kings and bandits alike.¡±

    My students stared with rapt attention. I¡¯d never said that the story I would share with them would be a true one, but all the same, it felt wrong. And yet, this felt like an important story.

    ¡°A long time ago, beneath strange stars, was born a woman named Meti, of no house but her own. She was born in the shadow of a city known for its peerless soldiers. At the age of thirteen, she took up physical training. At the age of sixteen, she had refined her body and spirit to her satisfaction, and she joined the army of her king. She was renowned as a swordswoman of legendary power. At the age of twenty, she dueled a great foe for a day and a night. Her sword was sundered and her body was broken. As the duel came to a close, she realized that she had trained much too broadly. She saw that existence and combat were no different. The essence of combat, the path to victory, was the singular action of Cutting Down Your Opponent.¡± I said, struggling to articulate the capital letters in my mind.

    ¡°So she gouged out her opponent¡¯s brains with her thumbs. She resolved to train this action. To embody its purity. She eschewed wealth and fame, for these things were not aligned with the act of Cutting Down Your Opponent. She left the service of her king, and eschewed taking students or lovers, because these things were not aligned with the act of Cutting Down Your Opponent. She sought to bathe in death, and attain perfection in the act of Cutting. And so she became a master of the sword without equal. For the rest of her days, she lived in poverty, surrounded by death. Many who had studied the sword all their lives sought her out, seeking to earn fame by defeating her. She killed them all. At the end of her life, she took two students. One of them murdered her and fed her body to the dogs.¡±

    The stares continued.

    ¡°Now, tell me. What is the lesson of Meti¡¯s story?¡±

    Silence greeted me. I waited patiently for one of my students to offer something. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d been subtle here, about my opinion of the sword. I studied my nails. They were poorly shaped for cutting. It wasn¡¯t just the bluntness, they were curved in all the wrong ways. Still, I stroked my thumb against them, trying to draw blood. Where were they sharpest? Was it really the tip of the curve, or was it more along the top surface of the nail? Why did they stubbornly refuse to produce sword intent, no matter how intently I stared at them. I focused on my pinkie, which I had taken to a rough whetstone to sharpen. I owned duller blades. What was the difference between them?

    ¡°Elder Hu.¡± Fang Xiao eventually asked. ¡°Is Meti¡¯s story true?¡±

    ¡°Fang Xiao, you continue to ask the wrong questions.¡± I lied. ¡°A story is too large a thing to be true or false. Did Meti truly live? Perhaps. Were I inclined to wager, I would bet against the historical truth of her existence. But it is beyond question that her story lives. It is heard, and repeated, and so in that way it is true.¡±

    Fang Xiao frowned, dissatisfied.

    ¡°Did Meti protect anyone?¡± Su Li asked.

    I shrugged.

    ¡°Herself, perhaps. But would any of those men have pursued her life, if she were not a paragon of the act of Cutting?¡±

    I shrugged again.

    ¡°If you would pursue this road to its end, you will find the sword demands much from you. And you will find that there is always another, willing to give more to it. To more completely embody the act of Cutting Down Your Opponent. Meti¡¯s story might not be true. But that certainly is. No matter how good you become, you should always keep in mind the idea that somewhere in the vastness of the world, there exists an ascetic who can humble you with a single swing.¡±

    ¡°So, it''s a story about humility?¡± Fang Xiao asked

    I was losing the thread here. I¡¯d wanted to make a statement about the futility of the sword, but I¡¯d built up Meti¡¯s legend far too much in the process. It was time to cut my losses.

    ¡°Humility is a word the prideful use to make a virtue out of the mundane act of having a reasonable amount of respect for the talents of others. It is a story about swords. And the many different kinds of fools who carry them.¡±

    I stood up.

    ¡°Come. This cliff face offends my sense of aesthetics. Let us see if exposure helps you to perceive my sword intent.¡±

 Chapter 32 - To Challenge The Heavens - 1

    Wang Li stretched his back, luxuriating in the way his muscles slid across each other without pain. He hated being bedridden, which was slightly ironic given how long he¡¯d spent convalescent this past decade.

    A pity, that great exertions came hand in hand with long recoveries.

    Fang Tao¡¯s parting gift had broken his spine. And almost every other physical structure in his torso. His last second reinforcement had diffused the force of the blow across a wide area, but all that had served to do was keep him in one piece, rather than two.

    He¡¯d spent the first week within a single Li of where he¡¯d landed. The first day had been like a dark dream, he¡¯d flickered in and out of awareness like a candle in the wind. Through the pain-haze of those first waking hours, he¡¯d dragged himself from the crater he¡¯d found himself in. His arms had still worked, and pain was a teacher, not a commander. Driven by more animal instinct than thought, he¡¯d searched for any tree hollow or tiny cave to sequester himself in. In the end, he¡¯d settled for a large hedge, his strength spent.

    Then began a full week of monotonous cycling. In a way, he was lucky. It should have been two, if not three. But Disciple Zang¡¯s storage ring had contained some truly remarkable healing pills, which supplement his own supplies nicely. He supposed the man would have needed them, with his own lackluster attainments in bodily cultivation. But even a peak foundation establishment pill was not enough to restore his Steelsworn body on its own. It was one of the unfortunate downsides of such advanced bodily cultivation. But their potent medical energy had drastically reduced the amount of spear qi he¡¯d needed to rebuild himself, and helped refill his depleted channels as well.

    It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it wasn¡¯t even in his top five worst recovery experiences. Not being actively hunted was a pleasant change of pace.

    Now free from the hedge he¡¯d spent his convalescence, Wang Li enjoyed a small meal of salted pork and pickles. It was a pity that even Disciple Zang¡¯s ring was not powerful enough to protect its contents from the greedy hands of time. He would have loved to be able to simply store a proper meal and unseal it later. How ironic, that most of those rings sat on the fingers of elders who treated grain liberation as a dogma, instead of the convenience it was.

    Despite the food, his stomach churned with anticipation. It was time. He could feel electricity in the air, as if Heaven were watching, already preparing its tribulation.

    It was a pity, he thought, that only the birds would witness his triumph. Glorious deeds deserved an audience. Alas, he was no longer a sect prodigy, whose achievements merited that sort of attention. He had cast that aside, when he took up the spear of the Dragon Emperor, and he was no craven to regret his choices.

    Casting his qi towards his own ring, Wang Li pulled a spear from it. And then he pulled another.

    Weapons piled up around him. Spears first, then swords, and then even stranger things, knives and arrows, glaives and even a chakram, a bladed disc he¡¯d claimed from a foreign warrior. Slowly, he walked through the valley he¡¯d chosen, stabbing weapons into the ground. He scattered spirit stones as he walked, trusting them to fall to their proper places.

    Scholars were far too precious about formations. Was it really so complicated, to simply place things where they should go? What need had he to consult the Book of Changes to see that the chakram ought to rest atop a stump? That the spears should be in the outer ring, and the swords the inner? Perhaps if they¡¯d spent more time outside and less time with their nose in a book they¡¯d see that nature had the answer right before their faces. A tree could arrange its leaves ten thousand different ways, and each one could be perfect.

    Wang Li shook his head. His thoughts were wandering. He could bully the scholars for their blindness when he was a core formation master.

    He could feel it already, the beginnings of a hurricane of steel, a steadily building stream of weapon qi joining the electricity in the air.

    It was finally time to put deeds to his words. Every disciple dreamed of this moment, the moment when they would finally lay their challenge at the feet of Heaven. The moment when they finally gave truth to their empty boasts.

    The core formation tribulation. The first tribulation. The moment when he would truly defy the will of Heaven, rising beyond not merely the station the kings of men had ordained for him, but the lifespan Heaven had allotted.

    He stood in the center of his formation, the spear of Qin Longwei in his hand. The flow of qi intensified, its sheer intensity tinting the air the faintest shade of silver. He pondered the weapon in his hand.

    It needed a name, this storied lance now cast aside. It was a beautiful thing, a long shaft of lacquered wood blacker than a moonless night. The head was leaf-bladed, silver steel that glowed almost blue beneath the noonday sun, engraved with the name of a smith long dead, a mortal genius surpassed by his creation. Instead of the traditional horsehair tassel, a short pennant of blue silk hung from the joint where wood met steel.

    Qin Longwei might have begun it¡¯s legend, but Wang Li would finish it. What was a suitable name for such an inheritance, cast aside and then taken by force from an unworthy heir?

    ¡°You are Inauspicious Fate¡° He told the weapon, his voice as gentle as a father naming their firstborn child. What better an end for his enemies, than the one he¡¯d been destined for?

    He shifted, adjusting his posture to complete the formation. This one wasn¡¯t an echo of the battlefield, the glory of the victor. No, this formation was a promise unfulfilled, a challenge. Its proper anchor was not a warrior who held his spear in readiness, but one who took it up with newfound will.

    Wang Li began to cultivate, letting instinct guide him. He began as he¡¯d been taught, with the first patterns of the Scripture of the Heaven-Piercing Spear. Qi flooded his channels, drawn to him like rivers flowing out to sea. The sea within his dantian grew wild, stoked to savage fury as he forced more and more qi within the fixed space. As the storm raged within his heart, he adapted his cycling pattern, doing his best to accommodate the furious power. He¡¯d never seen the core formation manual of the scripture, not even Zang Baihu had been given a copy before he needed it. That was fine, he didn¡¯t intend to walk his whole road in the shadow of the emperor.

    His technique was imperfect, but his will was flawless. More and more qi poured into him, and the formation met the demands of his dantian, then surpassed them, drawing in qi from all across the countryside. Every dragon vein, buried deep, every blade raised, whether in righteous fury or a hunter¡¯s reverent indifference, the weight and glory of it all of it funneled towards him.

    Then he heard the shouting in the distance. Well, he wasn¡¯t exactly being subtle.

    Wang Li smiled. Perhaps Heaven had heard his laments, that his ascension would go unwitnessed. He had no doubt his audience would be unfriendly, he had few friends in this empire now, and Heaven did ever favor granting wishes in the cruelest of manners. That was fine. This day, he embraced their cruelty, and loved them for it.

    ¡°Let them come. Let the whole world bear witness.¡± He whispered to the sky. ¡°I do not fear you. Why would I fear men?¡±

    He wondered who they were. The army? A noble¡¯s retinue? His former brothers? Not the Imperial Guard certainly, that particular doom would have come in silence. He would know soon enough.

    Men streamed into the valley in ones and twos, taking up position in a perimeter around them. They wore the iconic scalemail of the Qin army, but bore no standard he recognized. Spears and swords bristled as they organized into formations of their own. Fools, in baring steel against him, they only added to the majesty of his working.

    Eight men charged into the forest of blades around him, two spears aimed at his heart, six swords positioned to ward off his retaliation. On another day, on another field, he might have yielded before that assault, abused his superior speed to reposition and take a more advantageous angle.

    Today, he would not move before even a hundred mortal men.

    With a gentle flick of Inauspicious Fate, he redirected one of the rivers of weapon qi pouring into his formation. The weight of a hundred swords crashed into the soldiers, stopping their charge instantly. Swords flashed as they parried desperately, trying to swim against the current. Blades chipped and skin wept crimson as they failed to block the greater flows within the torrent. In mere moments, their resolve broke, and they retreated.

    Straightening his spear, Wang Li returned the formation to its previous shape. He was no butcher.

    More and more men advanced out of the treeline, surrounding him in a wall of bodies. Some of them, he could feel dimly through the chaos of his formation, foundation establishment captains.

    He smiled. His formation had been good, but this, this was far better. He was a spear cultivator. He would advance upon the battlefield.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Still, he¡¯d only seeded a hundred odd spirit stones through his formation. The power that fueled it would not last forever.

    It was time.

    Wang Li formed his will into a spear, and turned it inwards. His fingers ground against the cool lacquer of Inauspicious Fate, the material left the slightest bit tacky to the touch by the traces of sweat on his palms.

    If these ants thought they could survive sharing his tribulation, let them come.

    He drove the spear home, and shattered the walls of his lower dantian. He gasped as power flooded out of him, leaking out into the world. Wang Li strove mightily, refusing to let his now unchained qi abandon him.

    He laid claim to all the qi around him, in this one moment, his cultivation was unbound by the limits of his form. He would not let it go to waste.

    He saw it now, so clearly he wondered how he¡¯d ever not known. The next steps of his path. He was the point of the spear, it would all begin and terminate in him.

    Through the pain, he raised his eyes to Heaven.

    ¡°Your move.¡± He spat through bloody teeth.

    Above him, the sky raged. Clouds swung low, a grasping hand seeking to snuff out his light. Deep within them, a dark fire churned as lightning gathered.

    With all the weight of the world, a single finger descended to wipe away the ant that dared defy the order it would impose upon the cosmos.

    <hr>

    Qin Xifeng was having a good day. Most of them were, these days. You could only live so long in a gilded cage before you realized that even if you could not control your life, you could control your reaction to it.

    All those tutors from the Transient Vessel had gotten at least a few things right.

    And who would have thought that a mere decade later, she would be wandering the wilds with her own command? All it had taken was a series of disasters and external pressure enough to threaten the very future of the empire.

    All the same, she wasn¡¯t sure she would trade these fraught days for more peaceful ones.

    Sipping her saucer of tea, she favored the newly promoted Colonel Chen Yu with a nod. He was getting better at brewing. If he was to be her right hand man, he would have to learn how to provide for her comforts. Lesser attendants had an unfortunate habit of dying when knives came out, and it was so very tedious training a new one.

    She could feel it in the air, stirring. A mind to fuel the storm. A tribulation was coming.

    It would be their man. It all fit the pattern. An audacious theft, then forcing his breakthrough, to prove to himself that he needed neither the sect he left behind, nor the weapon he stole.

    ¡°I do believe they¡¯ve found him.¡± She said mildly.

    ¡°Princess?¡±

    ¡°Wang Li.¡± She clarified.

    Colonel Chen rose to his feet, abandoning his breakfast, and began strapping on the rest of his armor.

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°Listen, Colonel Chen, listen. The earth and sky are the very worst of gossips.¡±

    She ignored the look he shot her, and finished her breakfast. The scouts would manage. His records showed he was not one to revel in slaughter. She didn¡¯t truly want to apprehend him until after he completed his tribulation anyway. He would be so much more useful to her, if he did manage to leap the dragon gate. So very many so called cultivators bottlenecked at the peak of foundation establishment.

    It was a surprisingly good breakfast, for a force on the move. It certainly helped that she¡¯d brought a proper chef with her. Not an immortal one, but a mortal who had completed their apprenticeship under one of the imperial cooks.

    It was almost miraculous, what a single skilled person could do when given a dozen untrained but very enthusiastic helpers. Even the soldiers were eating well, if nowhere near as well as her. Finishing her congee, she rose just as a scout burst through the doors of her tent.

    ¡°We¡¯ve found him.¡± The man barked. ¡°He¡¯s holed up in a slaughter formation in a valley north of here.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Xifeng said. ¡°I was just finishing breakfast.¡±

    She paused. It was good to reward servants, when they performed acceptably. ¡°Your haste does you credit. Feel free to help yourself to my leftovers.¡±

    There. The spread had been too large for one person anyway, but she liked the variety. And she did so hate waste.

    ¡°Come, Colonel Chen. We would not wish to be late.¡±

    The man visibly bit his tongue as he followed. He needed to have more faith in his subordinates. Two or three foundation establishment captains should have arrived by now, they should easily be enough to prevent undue casualties.

    The run was short, Colonel Chen managing not to lag behind too much. For all the man¡¯s flaws, he neither lacked resolve, nor neglected his body.

    They arrived just as the first bolt fell.

    Wisely, the men had retreated. They watched from a safe distance as lightning pounded down upon the lone figure standing amidst a field of blades.

    A single finger of the Will pressed down upon him, borrowing its form from dense gray clouds bound by ligaments of lightning. Even from here, she could feel the weight of its suppression as it pressed closer to the earth. Early nascent soul equivalent perhaps, nothing remarkable. Wang Li seemed to primarily be relying on his spear intent to clear the tribulation, striking back directly at the lightning that rained down upon him. As the bolts fell upon him at a drummer¡¯s cadence, he would strike back with his spear, drawing the bolt to them. A gleaming white spear intent dispersed the strike.

    ¡°His tribulation has already begun.¡± Colonel Chen said.

    ¡°Thank you, for stating that for the benefit of the blind.¡±

    Xifeng watched as he dodged a bolt, letting it strike one of the less important flags of his formation, before taking the next directly on his chest. She approved, it was good to pace yourself, Heaven always dragged these things out. And tribulation lightning was an excellent way to temper the body. It became harder and harder to find good whetstones as one advanced.

    Colonel Chen held his tongue for a moment, but soon ventured more unnecessary tactical advice.

    ¡°We should wait until he completes his tribulation before attacking. He¡¯ll be flush with the power of a fresh advancement, but it should clear his formation completely. We could also move in at the end, before the storm fully clears, but if Heaven takes offense and redoubles its efforts, we could well see every combatant slain. If you did choose the latter course, we should limit the initial strike to the captains. If either of us take the field, his tribulation is certain to increase.¡±

    ¡°That is true. We will be waiting for him to complete his tribulation, before attacking in earnest.¡±

    They had an audience now, a pair of captains kneeling behind them, awaiting commands. She would have to break them of that habit eventually. She could make her voice heard wherever they stood, their duty was to lead their tenths, not to shadow her.

    ¡°A wise decision, princess. I¡¯ve seen what happens, when foolish commanders do not treat an enemy undergoing tribulation with the respect it deserves.¡±

    Her brow furrowed. What sycophancy. He left unvoiced the obvious, that they could have intercepted him before his breakthrough, if she hadn¡¯t finished breakfast. Wrong in any case, she¡¯d only sensed him when the potential for tribulation had reached sufficient intensity that he could have triggered it at any moment. But he could continue to labor in ignorance, she didn¡¯t feel the need to justify herself to him.

    ¡°There is a third option.¡±

    ¡°Princess Xifeng?¡±

    ¡°I could disperse his tribulation, you know. It would be bloodier than a straight fight, but well within our force¡¯s capabilities.¡±

    ¡°Of course, princess.¡±

    He didn¡¯t believe her. Still, at least he had the good sense not to doubt her aloud. It wasn¡¯t that surprising, he¡¯d seen the wrath of Heaven, and recently as well. He¡¯d never seen hers.

    ¡°It''s good to let a stallion run itself out, before you try to break it in.¡± She continued. ¡°But he¡¯s more valuable as a captive after he¡¯s advanced anyway, and far from strong enough to be a serious threat to our detachment.¡±

    ¡°I didn''t take you for an equestrian, princess.¡±

    ¡°I''m not one. Horses are boring animals. But dragons and men really aren''t that different from stallions. They all want the same things, form, temperament, and intelligence are all rather superficial differences in the end.¡±

    They watched as Wang Li danced and fought through the rain of lightning. His formation was in tatters, his robes scorched black by strikes he allowed past his guard. Only the spear he¡¯d stolen was untarnished. It wasn¡¯t the most interesting tribulation transcendence she¡¯d ever seen, most of her brother¡¯s attempts had been more creative. But it was working, and wasn¡¯t that what mattered in the end? Relying on his formation to resist Heaven¡¯s suppression was textbook, but effective.

    No, the only truly interesting mystery on display here was the boy¡¯s spear intent. That white glow was forming the foundation of his defense, less dispersing bolts of tribulation lightning that outright annihilating them. A purer manifestation of Destruction? The ever classic Hunger? Whatever it was, its range was lackluster, his mastery too limited to effectively project it.

    The storm was slowing now, readying itself for its final assault. Qin Xifeng already knew he would succeed. He wasn¡¯t the type to choke in the final moments. If he¡¯d failed, it would have been in the planning. In a way, she mused, he did exactly that.

    ¡°Ready the men.¡±

    When Qin Xifeng spoke, the sky carried her words to every ear under her command.

    ¡°Full squads, defensive formations. Nobody except Colonel Chen risks direct melee exchanges. Clear the remains of his formation and harass him with ranged attacks. Elemental only, don¡¯t give him weapon qi to redirect. If he tries to break out, let him, don¡¯t attempt interception.¡±

    One day, these men would be legends who could bring down talents like this with a thousand cuts. Until then, they would stay out of the way.

    ¡°Colonel Chen.¡± She continued, her voice carried to his ears alone. ¡°Engage him up close. Expect prolonged exchanges to break your weapons. Fight defensively, try to bait out his techniques. Once my domain is established, retreat to the edge and intervene only at my command.¡±

    He might have doubts, but he was learning. There was only one response for him to give.

    ¡°Yes, princess.¡±

 Chapter 33 - To Challenge The Heavens - 2

    Wang Li stood alone in a field of broken blades. Shards of metal littered the scorched remnants of what had once been a field of tall grass. His muscular chest was bare and bloody, mundane silk and once reformed skin both unequal to the challenge of Heaven¡¯s lightning. He lifted a hand to his face, taking advantage of a rare moment of respite to wipe the blood from his eyes. He smelled the acrid stench of burnt skin. His storage rings had survived the force of the lightning, but they¡¯d grown cherry-hot in the process.

    He wasn¡¯t sure he could have laid down Inauspicious Fate if he¡¯d wanted to, his right hand was all but fused shut.

    One hundred and one men, and one woman, watched as he struggled against Heaven.

    He¡¯d never felt more alive.

    More bolts rained down, a trio this time. Two smaller bolts to pin him down, one great blow to knock him out. He didn¡¯t bother dodging, his formation had been shattered, he had no more anchors to draw the blows away with. Raising a hand, he let the first two bolts fall upon him, before catching the greater blow with the head of his spear. Lightning warred with the all-consuming light of his intent, before faltering, then shattering. Thin threads of electricity scattered through the ruined valley. Soldiers flinched back on reflex, terrified of being drawn into his tribulation.

    ¡°More!¡± He roared, laughing wildly.

    The hand of Heaven pressed closer still to the earth, its sole outstretched finger descending so low that its tip stood scant dozens of feet above the tops of the trees. The suppression on him redoubled, bringing him down to one knee. Wang Li caught himself on the shaft of his spear, refusing to kneel before the tribulation.

    The tip of one pine crackled into a blaze, ignited by an errant tongue of lightning.

    Bolts of lightning fell like rain, sparking threads scarcely the width of a thumb. A thousand thundering threads connected Heaven and Earth, setting the world ablaze. His spear danced faster than it ever had, but he could no more parry the resulting storm than he could Fang Tao¡¯s final blow.

    Wang Li struggled to his feet, but he felt weaker than he had since he was a mortal. He drew more pills from his ring, tossing them back heedlessly. Qi surged through him, leaking out almost as fast as it was released from the pills. His cultivation was scattered about the valley, his shattered dantian a sucking wound in his soul. The formation that he¡¯d subsumed felt so far away beneath the weight of Heaven¡¯s suppression.

    The eyes of his spirit cast about desperately, seeking the glint of steel through the haze of fire and thunder.

    ¡°No!¡± He shouted through bloody lips. ¡°I have not come this far, for you to tell me that my spear is not enough!¡±

    The finger descended lower, engulfing the tops of the trees. Were it not for the impossible weight pressing down upon him, he could have reached it with a single leap. He could have made Heaven bleed. He leapt anyway, thrusting Inauspicious Fate heavensward, shrouded in the light of oblivion.

    The weight of the sky smashed him back into the earth before he made it halfway there. He struggled upwards through black mud born from ash and blood. Lightning lashed down upon him all the while, the thundering scourge opening new wounds across his back.

    ¡°We were not born to kneel! Not before petty tyrants! Not before you!¡±

    He saw it now. It was not enough to survive. To merely endure would bring dishonor on all the corpses he¡¯d left behind him, their dreams too heavy a curse for him to carry onwards.

    He was the tip of the spear. The vengeance of all those ground into the earth by the relentless cruelty of the world. So what, if he rose for himself alone? His calling had not been to protect. It had been to rise. He was not a good man. He had not been a filial son. But a bastard could take revenge as well as any.

    ¡°This ends now.¡± He said quietly, the words stolen by the crash of thunder.

    His cultivation had been scattered, the formation he¡¯d usurped broken. Heaven¡¯s suppression prevented him drawing it back in and from forming a core. But, it wasn¡¯t talent at cultivation that had taken him this far. Wang Li raised his spear once more, following motions that had been beaten into his bones, then engraved into his very soul.

    He moved without the hesitation of pain, unheeding of the weight of Heaven. His spear spun in a gentle loop, its shaft unerringly finding his left hand. Knees flexed, his burnt right hand sliding higher on the shaft.

    If his cultivation was not strong enough, his spear would be. A blindingly white mist arose around him, the certainty of steel refined into deeper truth, the rejection of all that was.

    ¡°Tell me, oh rage of Heaven. Can you feel fear?¡±

    He knew the answer, somehow. Instinct long buried screamed at him that this was an enemy.

    The enemy.

    And that it could bleed.

    He thrust, all that he was the tip of the spear.

    A ray of argent light pierced the raging heavens. A hand of clouds got a steel splinter. A tribulation was unmade.

    The stitching of lightning that had bound the clouds together flickered, then fell silent. The shape of it remained for a moment, the ghost of a colossus laid low. Slowly, the sky began to return to its natural state, the clouds moving with all their customary haste.

    Wang Li stood alone, surrounded by fire and ruin. He felt something break, a skin as thin as a dragonfly''s wings, a barrier to his cultivation that he¡¯d never even noticed. Everything he¡¯d expended, all the weight of his cultivation, all the qi drawn by his formation, all of it rushed towards him, drawn by an inexorable gravity.

    It was a completely different experience from all his prior breakthroughs, Wang Li wasn''t straining against a barrier, forcing his qi to condense. Instead, he floated weightless in an ocean of power, of potential.

    Even without his direction, qi flowed into him, transforming his body in ways he could barely sense, let alone understand. He felt heavier, more real, as if all his life before had been half a dream.

    A flash of panic tore through him like lightning.

    He took control of the wild power, more his than his limbs. It was his by right of conquest, and he would not squander a drop. He forced it all inwards, towards his shattered dantian. He felt it now, the magnitude of the injury he¡¯d done himself. His qi churned like a storm, unconfined by his dantian¡¯s broken walls. He could tell instinctively that if he had not succeeded, broken that thin wall, his lower dantian would never have held qi again.

    Before his breakthrough, no matter how he''d pressed, how much will he brought to bear, how many pills he forced down, his qi had never solidified. Now, it was as easy as breathing to form it into a crystal.

    An instant stretched into immortality, as he pondered what sort of core he would form. It would be a spearhead, that was never in question. A sphere would be an insult to the simple tool that had allowed him to rise above his lowly birth. But the shape of it, the material, that was the crux of it all. It could not be his intent, the art that defined him.

    Oblivion could not have material form. He would not have a gaping void at the heart of his cultivation.

    It was not of metal. Weapon qi had ever been a means to an end for him.

    He let the magnetic pull of his breakthrough lead him, constructing something that was neither of this world, nor a rejection of it. A crystalline spearhead within his stomach that shone with an inner light, absolute destruction yoked by a fragile skin of purpose.

    He loved it, and hated it. It was him.

    His wounds closed, even as a bone deep exhaustion set in. A thousand changes great and small took root in his flesh as he tried his best to shepherd his rioting qi in a useful direction.

    Forget a week. He could have slept for a year. And yet, with the new found power flowing through his meridians, he felt like he could stay awake for decades. He¡¯d never known it was possible to be so exhausted and energized at the same time.

    Through the haze of his advancement, he heard voices.

    ¡°That was a little more impressive than mine.¡± A deep voice said. ¡°I only dared take my sword to Heaven¡¯s lightning, I hadn¡¯t even imagined one could strike back at its will directly.¡±

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    ¡°Mine wasn¡¯t much to watch.¡± A female voice replied, breathy, but clear as the edge of steel fresh from the whetstone.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was impressive, princess.¡±

    ¡°Not from the outside. It gave up quickly, once I started refining the lightning. I tried to prevent it from fleeing, but my grasp wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold it.¡±

    What a pathetic boast. He¡¯d felt that lightning. It rejected all that he endeavored to be. To incorporate it into himself would have been suicide.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure nobody could have done better princess.¡±

    ¡°Chen Yu, with an attitude like that, it¡¯s no wonder it took you seventy years to do what I did in twenty. If I failed to do the impossible, that¡¯s still a failure.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s a reasonable standard to measure yourself against princess.¡±

    ¡°Reasonable is for people who will measure their lifespan in decades or centuries, Captain Chen. I have met three true immortals. None of them were reasonable people.¡±

    Did they have no manners, these imperial dogs? Chattering like monkeys as he struggled to master his new self.

    Wang Li opened his eyes, and saw the world in blinding clarity.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re done navel gazing.¡± The princess remarked. She was a small woman, Wang Li doubted her head would come higher than the middle of his chest. For all that she wore her elaborate robes with the effortless grace of a lifetime of practice, Wang Li still felt like she looked more like a doll than royalty.

    The man at her side, this Captain Chen, was far more interesting. He was an ugly fellow, with brutish features and a wide forehead, bearing clear evidence of a badly broken nose despite his advanced cultivation. His hair was shorn as short as a monk¡¯s. Only his body fit the image of a heroic captain of the Qin, tall, with broad shoulders. He wore ornate scale mail far thicker than that of his subordinates, a heavy suit shaped in the image of a dragon¡¯s scales.

    ¡°I¡¯ve spent enough of my morning waiting on a thief.¡± The princess continued.

    ¡°I am no thief.¡±

    ¡°If you don''t like the label, you shouldn''t have committed the crime.¡±

    ¡°If you did not wish your possessions to be liberated, you should not have established an unjust society.¡± Wang Li shot back, irritated.

    ¡°My eyes are opened.¡± The princess said, scorn dripping from her tongue. ¡°Clearly, it was insufficient for my father to bring peace and order to a wartorn wasteland. If he wanted his government to be respected, obviously he should have made certain to resolve every social ill in the first year of his reign.¡±

    ¡°I have seen the injustice done in your father¡¯s name, I am uninterested in the excuses of a hothouse flower who has never needed to learn just how low she would stoop her next meal.¡±

    ¡°You are a thug with a sad story. If you think that makes you unique, you are as blind as you are pathetic. The peace of the Qin was built upon the graves of a thousand men like you.¡±

    Wang Li took a long breath, exploring the new depths of his lungs. It was suboptimal to fight so soon after a breakthrough. But then, optimal was not a luxury afforded to men like him. He would temper his advancement in battle.

    He flexed the fingers of his right hand, feeling them tingle as the residual energies of his breakthrough erased his burns.

    ¡°Enough words.¡± Wang Li spun his spear, feeling how light it was. ¡°Draw steel, or get out of my way.¡±

    The princess waved a hand, and her dog advanced.

    ¡°Wang Li, in the name of his majesty, Qin Longwei, you are under arrest.¡± Chen Yu said, his baritone voice echoing through the valley. ¡°You have forsworn oaths of service, assaulted members of his majesty¡¯s sects, and stolen imperial treasures. Cast down your arms and kneel, and you may yet be shown mercy.¡±

    ¡°I am Wang Li. I do not kneel.¡±

    The princess smirked. Wang Li¡¯s fingers twitched, as he imagined wiping that grin off her face.

    A hundred and one men drew steel. Wang Li watched as Chen Yu pulled a great iron buckler from his back, a dragon emblazoned about its rim. A rim that shone brightly, as if it had been sharpened. With his other hand, he drew a saber.

    Dao and buckler. Despite the man¡¯s height, Wang Li had reach on him. Chen Yu would try to tie him down, so that his men could get close without immediately dying.

    ¡°Ceaseless, I Advance.¡±

    Wang Li charged, his spear tracking Chen Yu¡¯s exposed throat.

    The buckler rose to parry, and Wang Li aborted the thrust, pivoting on his lead foot. He launched a thrust even as he slid through the mud, aiming for the back of the captain¡¯s leg. Chen Yu¡¯s saber slashed down, pushing the thrust wide, but Wang Li spun with the deflection, letting the shaft of his spear slip through his fingers.

    Catching Inauspicious Fate at the butt, Wang Li watched as Chen Yu stumbled back from the maximum range slash aimed at his eyes.

    Wang Li dove and spun as lances of fire shot out from the ring of soldiers. He dashed forward, turning his dodge into an ineffective attack.

    Moving ever forward, that was all that mattered.

    Wisps of intent gathered around his spear¡¯s head, its kiss becoming ever more lethal with each exchange of blows.

    Chen Yu took advantage of the distraction to wade in with an overhand chop, but another thrust at his throat forced him to abort the attack.

    Good. Wang Li pressed the attack, forcing the old soldier to give more and more ground. The man wasn¡¯t his equal with a blade, not even close. He would end this quickly, remove the primary threat before they tried to grind him down with attrition. He cycled his qi, felt power surge through his limbs.

    ¡°Kingfisher¡¯s Hunt.¡±

    Three simultaneous thrusts shot out, limned with pale light, each aimed at one of Chen Yu¡¯s dantians. A perfect kill.

    Then a single finger pressed against the side of his spear, sending it off course. The air screamed as his intent annihilated it, denied its true target.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Captain Chen. I¡¯ll take it from here.¡±

    Wang Li felt her now, a second core formation cultivator. Shit. One and a century of men was doable. Two, even for him, those were not promising odds. He needed a fast kill to turn it all around.

    How had she turned his blow?

    He cycled desperately, his limbs burning as his abused channels struggled to supply still more qi. Even his new core¡¯s boundless vitality could only do so much, without time to recover, he was beginning to flag.

    It would be unfortunate to kill a princess. But he was too tired to show mercy.

    Even as Chen Yu retreated with his shield raised, she stalked toward him, relaxed as only a noble brat could be.

    ¡°You think you¡¯re good enough to defy the heavens?¡± She said with a laugh. ¡°Allow your grandfather to show you what a real contender looks like.¡±

    ¡°Bold words for a woman who brought an army to-¡±

    She slapped him. One moment, she stood a dozen steps away, the next she was at arms length. There was no art to it, no martial technique. Just an openhanded slap across the face delivered with the full might of a core formation cultivator. A sound like a tree splintering resounded across the clearing as Wang Li¡¯s vision swam.

    ¡°It¡¯s precious that you think they¡¯re here for my protection. They¡¯re not capable of that yet.¡±

    ¡°I will-¡±

    He watched her arm raise. She was still ten feet away from him. He tucked his cheek behind his shoulder, even as ran towards her, spear raised.

    He stumbled, as she slapped him again.

    ¡°You will do nothing. Nothing I do not allow you to.¡± The princess hissed.

    What madness was this? He refused to believe she was controlling space. No core formation cultivator could do that. Had the emperor given her some treasure that allowed her to invoke a void shattering cultivator¡¯s authority?

    He had to run, he couldn¡¯t hope to fight Captain Chen while she was free to harass him. Wang Li turned and sprinted, spear shining, intent on cutting a path through the ring of lesser cultivators.

    Then the world twisted, and a small palm drove into his stomach. Blood filled his mouth as he doubled over in pain.

    He recovered in an instant, sweeping his spear to drive the princess back. She didn¡¯t even lean backwards, she¡¯d already retreated the moment after she¡¯d struck.

    He was no closer to the edge of the ring than when he¡¯d begun. And the princess was smiling at him, as if he were a monkey trained to dance for his betters.

    Fuck it all. He would wipe the smile off this bitch¡¯s face if it was the last thing he did. He¡¯d wipe her whole damn face off.

    ¡°I¡¯ve fought worse than you.¡± He spat through bloody teeth, buying time. He pulled deeply from his core, marshaling every scrap of qi he had left. It was too much, too many powerful attacks in rapid succession.

    ¡°I¡¯ve sparred with the emperor.¡± The princess said mildly. ¡°Before his spear, all you have ever achieved is nothing. Unworthy of merit, without need for condemnation. One does not condemn the worms underfoot.¡±

    ¡°You dare-¡±

    She slapped him again, and he smiled through the pain.

    ¡°I dare. Ever and always.¡± Princess Xifeng said softly, her domain carrying her voice to the ears of every man present. ¡°But you, you will kneel before your princess. Or I will break you, that you might be remade more suitable for your purpose.¡±

    ¡°Funny.¡± Wang Li said, blood and spit dripping down his chin like a waterfall. ¡°The last man I lost a duel to said the opposite. I told him I would not bow, and he agreed. I liked him better. He was no more a warrior than you, but at least he understood that. Allow me to share with you, a portion of what he showed me.¡±

    Wang Li let his will flow into his spear. World-Erasing Spear Intent. It was a proud boast, but his intent did not live up to the name. Not yet. His spear could not erase a world. It could not erase a man, only perhaps a jin of his flesh.

    It had always been sufficient before. A jin of flesh was far more than separated death from life, if one took it from the right place.

    If her thrice damned technique would allow it to connect.

    But then, fate had already shown him the solution to that dilemma hadn¡¯t it? It was foolish. Hopeless. But then, those were words cowards hid behind, when they were too scared to follow through.

    Inauspicious Fate burned once more, brighter than ever before. It shone with a white that was more than white, the color of absence. He watched as realization sparked behind the princess¡¯s eyes. Too slow. Too arrogant. Too close.

    Wang Li thrust at everything.

    An unyielding will clamped down upon the world as it burned, rejecting the miracle at the heart of his cultivation.

    Wang Li felt fingers close around his throat. Then he felt no more.

 Chapter 34 - The Moon Hangs Low

    Su Li collapsed into a heap atop her bed. She stared up, peering into the shadowy abyss that was her ceiling. Was that a spider web? Should she do something about that? Her broom should reach it. She wondered if the sect had spirit-beast spiders that she needed to watch out for. Normal sized ones, not the great man-sized monsters she already knew roamed the outskirts of Beastblood Peak.

    It would be a pathetic way for a cultivator to die.

    Something hard was digging into her back. The blanket was caught under her hip. She tugged, trying to work the snarl free, then winced a little when the blanket tore in response. Should¡¯ve just gotten up. She¡¯d need to buy a new one soon. Or move into nicer housing. The inner disciple who acted as quartermaster for Dusk Peak had made it quite clear that complimentary access to luxuries like blankets, or mattresses, was a privilege for upwardly mobile disciples. Outer sect lifers could purchase their own home goods.

    She appreciated that Elder Hu cared enough to hold these lessons for her and Fang Xiao. That he¡¯d apparently suggested Fang Xiao act as an escort, to ensure she reached them without issue. But did he really have to hold them so far out in the middle of nowhere?

    It was simply so much walking. Two hours each way, every third night, struggling to keep up with Fang Xiao¡¯s longer strides and more advanced cultivation. Whenever Elder Hu¡¯s lessons fell on a night where she would need to serve in the fields the following day, or followed one, Su Li felt like she was struggling to stay afloat. Four hours of walking, two of lessons. Then eight in the fields, pruning and feeding herbs. Another hour or two to eat and clean, and she was left with but a third of the day to train, sleep, and cultivate. Each of those obligations could eat up all her remaining hours, if she let them.

    How would she ever get anywhere, when so many days she cultivated for a mere hour or two?

    Elder Hu could waive her allotment, if he chose to, but she was loath to broach the matter with him. His teachings were priceless, but the natural treasure he¡¯d produced for her to cultivate from, that had a definite worth. And it¡¯s worth was far greater than her labor.

    No, she would keep going. She would slow down Fang Xiao less, complete her work for sister Sun faster. She could eke out more hours from the night. She didn¡¯t need less work, she just needed to be better.

    Su Li stood up, ignoring her aching legs. There were still a few hours of moonlight left, she could cycle for a few hours, and still have time to train with other outer disciples in the early morning, before most of them went to sleep. Rice and rest would keep, advancing would make all the sacrifices worthwhile.

    Su Li wiped her boot clean, before setting it on the windowsill. She didn¡¯t like cultivating in public, but there weren¡¯t enough hours left in the night for it to be worth traveling anywhere else. As she clambered up onto her thatched roof, she pondered Elder Hu¡¯s story.

    Meti. A peerless master of the sword who spent her days in poverty, then was fed to wild dogs by her traitorous students.

    She didn¡¯t understand it. Individual pieces made sense. Some famous swordsmen were renowned ascetics. Every nation had its hidden masters and hermit experts. But Elder Hu had asked for a lesson. A moral, as if it were one of Kong Zi¡¯s stories of virtue. Su Li didn¡¯t think that it had anything to do with Meti¡¯s death. Elder Hu had added that in almost as an afterthought, as though he¡¯d noticed the dark symmetry between her situation and his own, and felt compelled to include it. No, the lesson wouldn¡¯t be something as simple as ¡®Don¡¯t murder your master and feed their body to the dogs¡¯.

    Elder Hu had seemed to think that the lesson was obvious, that whether Meti was a cautionary tale or a figure to aspire to would be clear. But Su Li couldn¡¯t see it. She hated the way he¡¯d moved away from the subject immediately, clearly disappointed his students hadn¡¯t grasped what he was trying to tell them. The tale felt like a warning, but what was Meti¡¯s flaw?

    Su Li stared up at the thin crescent of the moon. She called to it, following the well practiced steps of the Manual of the Passing Moon. It was easier now than it had ever been, knowing that the changing of its shape was because the illuminated side of the silver orb now mostly faced away from her. There was a kinship there, that she felt with the White Goddess and her prison. Doomed only ever to shine with the reflected light of another.

    She hated that it was always nights like these, when she felt trapped by the weight of¡­ everything, that the moon felt closest. That it¡¯s power most easily came to her. Silvery wisps of lunar qi flowed through her, soothing her aching limbs. Power flowed into her faster by half than it had a month ago. The thin sliver of light in the sky blazed like a beacon to Su Li, even through her closed eyes. Her cultivation felt almost effortless, like she¡¯d laid up the brick outline of a building, and now all that remained was to repeat the same cycle a thousand thousand times, until a tower stretched to the heavens.

    She shivered. She didn¡¯t know why, but that thought scared her.

    The moon was an old friend. It had guided her through long hours of night travel through hostile lands. Even unawakened, she¡¯d touched it at times, felt it¡¯s quiet surety. It had cheered her as she snuck past checkpoints, watched without judgment as she¡¯d filched coin purses and loaves.  It was part of her past, but was it part of her future? It was stupid. She felt ungrateful, she should be marveling at her progress. Two years ago, she would have killed for it, to cultivate this quickly. She knew she wasn¡¯t like many of the disciples here, born with a tiger¡¯s eyes, but for that, she would have killed. If it were the right person, if the strings were not too onerous. Anything to be moving forward again, no longer stuck bottlenecked; wondering if the hours spent cultivating were even achieving anything.

    The flow of qi slowed, as Su Li¡¯s doubts poisoned her cycling. Did the moon know when its light wasn''t wanted? She didn''t think so. It felt more like she was the one pulling away. The moon was many things, but full of doubt wasn''t one of them.

    The flow of lunar qi surged again.

    She cultivated for another hour, until her attention began to drift. There came a point where even the cold silver light of the moon was insufficient to push away the call of the bed.

    She abandoned her perch, and set about making dinner. She could spend tomorrow evening at the training fields. As Su Li scraped cold ash from her fire-pit, her mind kept returning to the story of Meti.

    She wondered if Elder Hu was supposed to be Meti. Or if he¡¯d met a Meti? He¡¯d spoken about her as if she was a real person. It was a strange name. Meti. Me Ti? But he¡¯d spoken as if it were one name. Meti, of no house but her own.

    Elder Hu said that he had changed recently. Something about¡­ He was no longer as satisfied  as he¡¯d once been, with what he¡¯d always gotten. Had that been what it was about, encountering someone who was dedicated to the sword to a level he couldn¡¯t ever match. The thought felt almost blasphemous, that there could exist a swordsman who surpassed even Elder Hu to such a degree. She¡¯d seen him split stone and sky alike with a single effortless motion.

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    It seemed wrong. But what was the alternative, that Elder Hu had seen himself in Meti¡¯s story? Found himself a failure, for mastering nothing but the sword? That made no sense either.

    Elder Hu knew more about the moon than the manual the sect had given her. He wasn¡¯t a vagrant living in poverty, he was a peerless expert and sect elder.

    But if the lesson wasn¡¯t about how Meti related to Elder Hu, what was it about?

    Was it a warning to her and Fang Xiao, that they had to be more than the act of Cutting Down Your Opponent? Or a warning that was all they could be, if they wanted to truly master the sword?

    Her mind was getting hazy now. Su Li blearily stuffed down the steaming hot rice. The sooner she finished eating, the sooner she could sleep. She hated that even after half a decade of cultivation, all it took was a mere day and two nights on her feet to leave her too exhausted to keep her eyes open.

    Was she on the road to becoming a failure of a Meti? Is that why Elder Hu took pity on her? Because she had nothing but the sword, but she wasn¡¯t even good enough to have that.

    Su Li felt like she was slicing at fog. There was nothing to cut, no problem to solve. Just a sense that things were wrong. That she was doing things wrong.

    Perhaps if she slept long and hard, it would all make sense in the morning.

    <hr>

    This time, there was no knock at my door. Instead, there was a gentle pressure against the qi of my house, the spiritual equivalent of a light gust of wind. The power that rushed over me felt like night on a tropical island, timeless and floral scented, an intimate darkness. There was an undercurrent to it though, thorns on the rose. A sense of urgency and menace, like the bright steel of a kitchen knife stained with scarlet blood.

    It didn¡¯t make sense, but that¡¯s what it felt like. Betrayal in paradise.

    I opened my door to a woman whose demeanor matched her qi. She was tall for a woman, standing eye to eye with me. Her hair was blacker than ink, blending smoothly into the darkness. She had a face like a statue, beautiful, but the sort of museum-beauty that radiated an implicit warning that it was for looking, not for touching.

    She felt vaguely familiar, as if I¡¯d seen her from a distance before. Unfortunately, I had no idea who she was.

    The strange woman stared expectantly at me. Shit.

    Her robes were silk, and her qi felt powerful. Those all pointed to her being an elder. But she was still substantially weaker than me, early core formation at most.

    ¡°Disciple.¡± I guessed, panicking internally. It just seemed odd that a weaker elder would wait for me to speak first.

    She scowled, but didn¡¯t correct me. The disciple of someone important then.

    ¡°The Sect Master has a use for you.¡±

    The disciple held out her hand, offering me a thin rod of stone. White jade shot with cloudy streaks of tea-green. Oh dear, was she Meng Xiao¡¯s disciple?

    Silently, I took it.

    The jade slip looked a little like a computer chip. It was a thin rod, perhaps thrice the size of a popsicle stick in every dimension. The top and bottom edges were embossed with a strange sort of geometric design that resembled a cross between the intentional geometry of an integrated circuit and the odd square crystals of solid bismuth. It was emblazoned with the character for ¡®Ghost¡¯.

    As the disciple stared intently at me, I cycled qi through the slip. I oriented it with the character right side up, and sent a thin finger of qi in through the bottom.

    Silently, I prayed I was operating the thing correctly. I had no idea what I would say if it exploded in my hands.

    For a moment, nothing happened.

    Then information exploded into my mind. Context bloomed like a flower as I simply understood what was being asked of me. It was a trippy experience, knowing something, but knowing I didn''t really know it. It was like a second brain has been plugged in next to my own, so long as my qi flowed through the jade.

    ¡°I see.¡± I said slowly. The woman I now knew to be Meng Daiyu stared intently at me. It wasn¡¯t really a question, was it? ¡°It will be done.¡±

    Meng Daiyu¡¯s scowl abated, and she turned to leave, satisfied with my answer. I stared down at the thin piece of stone in my hand as I closed the door. It was everything I¡¯d needed, my first week here. I¡¯d expected it to be something like a computer. Images and words organized into a series of documents. Something like a magical file explorer.

    This was nothing like that. It almost felt as if Sect Master Meng were in my head, so long as I pushed qi through it. I would turn and look at something, like Meng Daiyu, and simply know his thoughts about it, at least as they pertained to my mission.

    I knew that a site had been discovered, some sort of inheritance or sacred ground. I knew that its ownership was disputed. I knew that the Pathless Night was sending an expedition to it, that a call for elders and disciples had been formally posted. I knew that Meng Daiyu would be on the expedition. I knew I would do the same, and that one of my primary objectives would be to guard her.

    I knew so many things. I knew the names of many of the elders attending, and faces and facts to match those names. I could now put a face to the name of Elder Cai, a stern looking woman who wore more years of age than most female cultivators chose to.

    I knew that I¡¯d never met either of the elders of the Glass Flower Sect that were on site to enforce their claim. Or, at least that Meng Xiao thought I¡¯d never met them. I knew their histories, political stands they¡¯d taken, arts they¡¯d publicly displayed.

    Above it all, I knew a name. Han Yang. Core Disciple of the Heaven-Piercing Spear. Favored of Heaven. Imposter. Enemy.

    Meng Daiyu must live. Han Yang must die. Everything else was discretionary.

    I could feel him. I could almost hear his voice, wry and amused, as it offered color commentary on every thought running through my mind. Mused about all the various ways the factions present could be turned against each other. Calmly weighed the virtues of framing the Glass Flower Sect for Han Yang¡¯s death, compared to forging a firm alliance with them. Pausing, with a rising curiosity, as it''s immaterial eyes turned towards my own doubts. A predator¡¯s grim smile, as it saw what I was. The ways I could be used.

    I threw down the shard, breathing heavily. I winced as it bounced, taking an impact that might have shattered normal jade.

    It wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be real. It had to be a recording.

    Han Yang. The sacred ground. I grabbed the shard again. We were thinking about the sacred ground.

    I knew it would be best, if the Pathless Night secured its fair share of the bounty of the discovery. We couldn¡¯t hold the site alone. It wouldn¡¯t be worth the risk. But there was no reason we couldn¡¯t have first pick of the mobile treasures, and access to any cultivation chambers by virtue of being a member of the winning team.

    But most importantly, Han Yang had to die. He was a full realm below me. But he had a patron. An immortal that had ascended beyond the limits of form. A God. And he could borrow its power.

    I put the shard down once more, gently this time. It was just a memory. A snapshot of Meng Xiao¡¯s mind. Something like a large language model in inference mode, interjecting commentary into my thoughts, but lacking the ability to take action, or even true memory.

    I hadn¡¯t exposed myself just by holding the slip. But now more than ever, it felt clear that Meng Xiao knew me well enough that even a short conversation would risk unmasking me.

    The shard was an opportunity perhaps, to change that.

    But that would only be a problem if I survived the coming weeks.

    The time for learning was over, and the test was at hand. I had two days, and then the expedition would depart for the northern reaches of the Qin Empire.

    And I would have to choose whether to kill, or run.

 Chapter 35 - Expedition

    I stared down at the table full of supplies before me. Storage rings could allow their user to visualize their contents, but I still preferred seeing the items in person. The spread before me felt lacking, somehow. There were so many items that after consideration, I¡¯d forgone. Rope just didn¡¯t make much sense, when my vertical leap was nearly fifty feet and I could fly by standing on my sword. Almost everything climbing related met the same fate, as did the majority of mundane medical supplies. I had pills for myself, and pills for those below core formation. If I truly found myself in need of bandages, I had old robes.

    Yes, I think I was as prepared as I was going to get. Perhaps appropriately, a full third of what I¡¯d packed were swords, or other sharp objects. The original Elder Hu had already had a good selection of swords, ranging from the almost transparently cursed, to otherwise normal looking but unnaturally durable blades like my daily carry. I¡¯d focused on adding some more expendable pieces of sharp steel, everything from pitons with a moderately honed edge, to a collection of razor sharp scraps from broken blades.

    If I had enough time to charge them with intent, they made for remarkably nasty grenades.

    There was a knock at my door.

    With a wave of my hand, I returned the rest of my supplies to the ring. I¡¯d spent enough hours agonizing over my loadout. I wasn¡¯t going to do better short of access to a bigger market.

    I opened my door, and found my disciple on the other side.

    ¡°Disciple Su.¡±

    I waved her into the room. I was pretty sure I already knew what this was about.

    ¡°Excellent timing,¡± I continued. ¡°I planned to track you down before I left.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure about this. But I wasn¡¯t going to let that hold me back anymore. If she wanted to come, I would let her.

    ¡°Please allow me to accompany you on your mission.¡± Su Li asked, right on cue.

    I lifted an eyebrow.

    ¡°Who told you?¡±

    ¡°Fang Xiao says he saw your name on the mission posting. He¡¯s going as well, because Elder Cai will be going.¡±

    I nodded, suspecting as much. It wasn¡¯t like it was a secret, but it was impressive all the same. That man really did keep his finger on the pulse of things.

    ¡°Why do you want to come?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good opportunity for me, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I suppose it is, especially if you plan to continue to cultivate a lunar method.¡±

    Su Li swallowed. Did she think this was a test? I suppose it was, in a way.

    ¡°I¡­ I want to stay by your side, master. Even if it¡¯s dangerous, or if the opportunity isn¡¯t as beneficial as it¡¯s supposed to be. I think I¡¯ll learn more at your side.¡± She paused, swallowing again. ¡°And¡­ And I really think I need to get out of the sect. I think a change of scenery will be good for my cultivation.¡±

    ¡°You understand, that it is likely to be dangerous?¡±

    ¡°I think so? The Glass Flowers Sect won¡¯t want to give up control of their discovery. But surely the mission hall wouldn¡¯t have a public posting if they expected it to devolve into open warfare?¡±

    ¡°The Glass Flowers won¡¯t be the only sect there that will be hostile to us. Everyone present will be a potential enemy.¡±

    ¡°I understand master.¡± Su Li said, nodding fiercely.

    ¡°Very well then. Be sure to pack anything you might wish you had. One never knows how long expeditions like these may take. I¡¯ll meet you at the departure site.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Master Hu. I swear I shall not disappoint you.¡±

    No, I really didn¡¯t think that she would. I was rather more worried about the opposite scenario. I let the comment pass without responding. I felt awkward, continually offering the same reassurance whenever she brought up failing me.

    I watched as Su Li left to pack. The moment she slipped out the door, the girl broke into a jog. Her arms pumped furiously as she tore out of the plaza. Fang Xiao must have just sprung this on her.

    It was a little funny to watch. She didn¡¯t need to rush, I already had most of the basics well past covered. My ring had plenty of food, and my spare robes and swords would work just as well for her in a pinch. But it would be good to leave those as a safety net.

    I felt a bit bad. I should have reached out to her sooner, but I¡¯d been too stuck in my head the last two days. She didn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, know why this mission wasn¡¯t a routine matter for me. Why my mere presence wouldn¡¯t be enough to ensure her safety. I¡¯d waffled for a day and a half, considered leaving her behind. But there wasn¡¯t any good reason for it, I was just scared. If I left the sect in disgrace, there was no scenario in which her remaining behind would work out.

    I turned away from Su Li¡¯s rapidly shrinking figure. I had fourteen hours before our scheduled departure. I couldn¡¯t waste a second, if I was going to turn my hodge-podge of sword related parlor tricks into a collection of techniques that could actually kill a nascent soul level cultivator.

    <hr>

    The departure site, a small clearing between Dusk and the Scholar¡¯s Lair, another of the sect¡¯s peaks; was already bustling by the time I arrived. More than sixty disciples milled about with varying degrees of urgency. The first thing I noticed was the sheer volume of silk on display. Fully a third of those present wore the finer robes that marked them as inner disciples.

    It made sense, given what we were heading into, but it was still quite a show of force. If I understood the logistics of it all correctly, our delegation would likely be one of the smallest by far, but would have the highest average cultivation by a substantial margin.

    I saw more than a few familiar faces. Disciple Hao, Elder Shi¡¯s off-putting personal disciple, sat alone in one corner. Meng Daiyu, to my modest surprise, enjoyed a similar amount of personal space. I suppose considering her father¡¯s power, she was basically a princess. If she desired quiet, who would dare impose on her? Liang Tao sat across from Fang Xiao, who, I noted with some amusement, already seemed to be into his cups.

    ¡°Where does my luggage go?¡± Someone asked the two young men.

    ¡°In your bunk.¡± Fang Xiao replied, only half paying attention to the outer disciple lugging a bulging canvas pack.

    ¡°Some of these supplies are-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± Fang Xiao cut him off.

    ¡°Elder Cai specifically-¡±

    ¡°If Elder Cai cared, she would have packed it herself already. If she told you to keep it safe, then keep it safe. You can ask her for access to the hold when she arrives, otherwise it¡¯s your problem.¡±

    The disgruntled disciple waddled off, looking for an empty spot where nobody would pilfer his apparently valuable cargo.

    Rather than join the crowd, I opted to take up a perch in a tree at the edge of the clearing. A hop and a skip and a jump put me a few dozen feet in the air, well above the average disciple¡¯s eye line. Several of the inner disciples saw me anyway of course, but they were polite enough to ignore me.

    From my august perch jammed in the fork of two branches, I watched and listened as our disciples prepared themselves.

    ¡°Do you think there will be fighting?¡± One outer discipled asked breathlessly. The boy couldn¡¯t have been older than sixteen.

    ¡°Duels, almost certainly.¡± Another, far older, outer disciple with a fierce expression answered. ¡°It¡¯ll be a good opportunity to test yourself. Probably benefits to be secured, if you win. A cultivation chamber that doesn¡¯t have limits on how many people that can use it is as rare as a qilin¡¯s horn. Duels are often the chosen way to distribute those slots, our elders will certainly push for it.¡±

    ¡°What happens if we can¡¯t win?¡±

    ¡°What do you think happens? Then you can¡¯t use the chambers. Or claim any treasures for your own.¡±

    ¡°So, personal strength is everything?¡±

    The older outer disciple sighed.

    ¡°Why am I the one explaining this to you?¡± He asked. ¡°If you can¡¯t seize what you want on your own, then make yourself useful to someone who can. The sect helps those who help themselves. Or who help the sect.¡±

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    I turned away from the pair, looking for more interesting conversations. Someone had approached the corpse-bride. I pricked up my ears to listen in.

    ¡°How can you be so calm, sister Yue? This site likely predates the empire!¡±

    ¡°The empire is only six hundred years old, Disciple Qiao, our sect predates it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and our sect is an archeological wonder! If our sect were to abandon it¡¯s territory tonight, it would take decades before explorers managed to pierce its deepest reaches.¡±

    ¡°I suppose, Disciple Qiao, that the depths of the past become less mysterious when you study under one who lived for centuries.¡±

    ¡°Wait, did Elder Shi tell you anything about the site? Is it really the previous holy land of the Glass Flowers?¡±

    ¡°What my master knows, the elders know.¡±

    ¡°Come on, we¡¯ll all know soon.¡± Disciple Qiao wheedled. ¡°You can tell me, I¡¯m good for the favor.¡±

    They made for an odd pair. Disciple Qiao looked shockingly normal for one of our disciples. Dark brown hair held up in a comb, sect standard robes, a folding fan tucked between his fingers. The only remarkable thing about him was the sheer number of pockets he¡¯d had added to his outer robe.

    Hao Yue on the other hand looked even more like a corpse than usual in the cold light of the morning. It was hard to be paler than stark white silk, but somehow she managed.

    ¡°No.¡± Hao Yue said in a tone that was somehow both arctic and conversational at the same time. ¡°I don''t think that''s necessary.¡±

    A shadow fell over the clearing. Every eye turned skywards, as a distant shape descended from the heavens.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice the insult you offered Elder Su.¡± Disciple Qiao added in a harsher voice. ¡°Age isn¡¯t everything in a teacher.¡±

    ¡°I said nothing against Elder Su. It is bold of her though, to call herself an Elder in the presence of someone thrice her age.¡±

    A physical weight pressed down on us, as a flying ship descended from the heavens. It was physical, I was pretty certain. Not cultivation pressure. Trees creaked and moaned, even the grass was pressed flat as it descended. I wondered if that was how it stayed aloft, somehow diffusing its buoyant pressure across a wide area.

    I wondered if I could cut it. It felt almost like a bubble, something with skin.

    The ship itself was a wonder of architecture and an abomination of naval engineering. It had the basic shape of a ship, the architect had clearly seen a hull before. The masts had sails. It was everything else that was wrong. A great three story pagoda sat towards the aft of the ship, tall enough that it would have unbalanced a sailing ship of the same size. Yet more cabins were bolted on every inch of the circumference of the deck, giving the whole vessel a top heavy appearance. Shadows clung to the vessel like cobwebs, as if the unnatural gloom of the sect¡¯s domain had rubbed off on it.

    ¡°Get aboard!¡± Fang Xiao roared, as the ship touched down, leaping into action. ¡°We¡¯ll leave in five minutes with or without you. Cabins have name plates, if you¡¯re not sure if you have a cabin, you don¡¯t. Bunks are below deck, and first come first served. Handle your disputes yourselves, if Elder Cai has to come down there, you¡¯ll all wish your parents had left you to the elements.¡±

    I ignored the chaos surrounding the gangplanks, and instead threw out my sword. A short flight took me to the roof of the 3rd level of the pagoda, where I claimed another seat. There were eyes on me now, whispers outer disciples thought I couldn¡¯t hear.

    ¡°That¡¯s Elder Hu.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s he here?¡±

    ¡°So the Sect Master doesn¡¯t have to be.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a man like the rest of us, he¡¯s probably hoping to pick up a new sword in the ruins.¡±

    ¡°Is he stronger than Elder Cai?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but he doesn¡¯t have a boat.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a ship.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°If a cultivator bothered to make it fly, it¡¯s a ship, not a boat. You¡¯ll live longer if you remember that.¡±

    ¡°Actually, boats are built for navigating inland waterways, it¡¯s a ship if-¡±

    ¡°Nobody cares, little Yang.¡±

    I tuned the gossiping outer disciples out. Though I felt a little bad for the poor, pedantic, little Yang. Hopefully he survived this mess. Most of the disciples heading aboard immediately disappeared into the hold, but a few claimed space on the deck instead. Meng Daiyu and Hao Yue disappeared into their cabins, but Disciple Qiao Ning took up a spot in the shade of the first level of the pagoda. Several outer disciples immediately approached him.

    ¡°Do you still have more of those half-moon pills?¡± One asked.

    I immediately tuned out Qiao Ning¡¯s side business. It was good to know, but not what I was looking for.

    I spied one outer disciple who had claimed a spot right next to the prow, where the figurehead would sit, if Elder Cai¡¯s ship had one. He was small, young. There was something strapped to the side of his robes.

    Daggers? No, the shape was too even. The handles too angular. Those were tonfas. Was that Geng Ru, then? He did look young, he couldn¡¯t be more than twelve or thirteen. It was a little embarrassing, that my disciple had gotten her ass whipped by a literal child.

    Geng Ru turned to face the rest of the ship, and immediately met my eyes. A flash of recognition shot through his eyes, but he didn¡¯t flinch. His stare was calm, unblinking, and utterly unbothered.

    That was no child. I wasn¡¯t sure what, why, or how, but there was something wrong with that expression. He knew who I was, and he was not the least bit concerned. Cuckoo, regressor, protagonist, secretly Meng Xiao¡¯s second disciple. I didn¡¯t know what was wrong with him, but something definitely was. No child prodigy had a stare that even, a poker face that good.

    Tomorrow¡¯s problem. I closed my eyes and leaned back, resting awkwardly against the rising slope of the roof. Snatches of dozens of conversations drifted upwards to my ears.

    ¡°They hate us for the same reason they fear us, because we¡¯re better than them. They¡¯ll come to the table in the end, because even if they believe their own bluster, they¡¯re not strong enough to wipe us out.¡±

    ¡°And you know what we call a goddess who doesn¡¯t answer prayers? Useless. Heaven might be venal, distant, and cruel, but at least they answer. The White Goddess can¡¯t even claim that much.¡±

    ¡°You know what we call an emperor who doesn¡¯t answer prayers? Still the emperor. It doesn¡¯t matter if she retired from the world and her cult died out, that doesn¡¯t change the potential value of any site they left behind.¡±

    ¡°Why did nobody tell me that Elder Cai¡¯s extra credit field work involved traveling into a warzone?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not actually a warzone, trust me, you wouldn¡¯t be saying that if you¡¯d ever seen one. Just don¡¯t go around picking fights and stay out of the way of any higher level cultivators and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Despite Fang Xiao''s statement, we didn''t get underway in five minutes. Su Li scurried aboard shortly after the ship landed, but it was a full ten minutes after that when the last disciple finally stepped aboard. I didn''t know if there was a list, or if Elder Cai had simply gotten tired of waiting, but all at once, the ship began preparing for departure.

    And it was the ship that handled most of the preparations.

    Even as Fang Xiao shouted at the last few disciples clogging up the deck, the gangways simply began retracting themselves, the long wooden ramps slowly folding themselves into the railings of the ship.

    Sails dropped of their own accord, and the wind rose up to meet them, pulling them taut with a satisfying pop. Ropes on giant spindles took and gave slack on their own, working the sails in a mechanized symphony.

    I wondered how it all worked. So much of the design seemed¡­ vestigial. Like the builder had been fixated on the flying ship working like a naval one. Perhaps there were complications I was missing? I could see needing sails, if wind-generating formations didn¡¯t generate the same amount of recoil as they did force. But why did the sails and mast need to turn, if the ship could generate its own wind?

    Suddenly, we rose into the air. There was no real warning, no sudden uptick in the force of the wind, or raising of an anchor. We simply were sitting on the ground one moment, then rising the next.

    ¡°I feel like a real cultivator, now.¡± Little Yang said. I cracked an eye open. He really wasn¡¯t that little. Very much a normal sized Yang.

    ¡°You just saw the ship land.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s different, being on it.¡±

    I could see Dusk in the distance as we rose into the sky. I couldn¡¯t quite make out my own house, but Elder Liang¡¯s compound stood out from the wooded mountainside like a sore thumb.

    We rose higher. Higher than I¡¯d ever felt the need to fly within the sect. The passing minutes shrunk the ground beneath us until even the mountains looked small. The sky felt almost claustrophobic, with the fog that marked the bounds of the sect closer than ever before.

    Below, I saw that Su Li had found a spot of her own on the deck, to watch as we departed. I gave her a small smile as I caught her eye, before returning to staring at the sky.

    ¡°This is it.¡± She said quietly. ¡°This is the start.¡±

    I didn¡¯t say anything, or give any sign I could hear her. That felt personal. Somehow, it felt more like an ending to me. I¡¯d spent what, a month and change in the sect? Two months, perhaps. In theory, if I came back from this trip, things would be much as I left them. The sect itself felt timeless. Things happened, but they happened to people living there, not to the sect itself.

    And yet, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of an end, and not just for me.

    It might just have been paranoia. There was plenty in Sect Master Meng¡¯s jade slip to be concerned about. But none of the dangers mentioned there should truly threaten the sect. Not if we handled it all correctly.

    A few moments later, we reached the edge of the sky. The borders of the pocket-world. The fog was thicker here than it was at ground level. I looked down, trying to see the great wooden poles that marked the Dusk Gate. Did the boundary extend this far into the sky?

    Then the world twisted. I blinked, then clenched my eyes shut, fighting back nausea for the first time since I¡¯d taken over Elder Hu¡¯s body. My eyes insisted nothing was wrong, but my qi screamed at me that space was not reliable, distance could not be trusted. I pulled my qi back as far as it would go, forcing it all beneath my skin again. Around me space itself flexed and bulged, as the flying ship pressed up against the edge of the sect.

    Just ahead of the prow, the distortion became thick enough that the way light bent was visible to even the naked eye. I watched as Geng Ru stared at the spot where space itself was breaking down with idle curiosity.

    Then we were through. With a dull pop of air pressure releasing, we exited into the real world. All around us, a bubble of shadow was dragged along in the ship¡¯s wake. As we soared out into the mundane night, it trailed along behind us without diminishing in the least. I suppose we would arrive in style then.

    My respect for Elder Cai rose considerably. Forcibly breaking out of pocket realms wasn¡¯t a typical skill for core formation cultivators. I could see why she¡¯d been chosen for this mission.

    Disciples shouted and celebrated beneath me, as some of them celebrated the first time they¡¯d been out of the sect in years.

    I hopped down, landing silently on the deck. I smiled as several disciples startled at finding me standing behind them. Threading my way through the crowd, I made for the pagoda at the aft.

    Fang Xiao had said, if you didn¡¯t know you had a cabin, you didn¡¯t have one. I expected I was the exception to that rule.

 Chapter 36 - Gunboat Diplomacy

    ¡°Elder Hu, you¡¯re wanted on the bridge.¡± A familiar voice said.

    I looked down to see Fang Xiao staring up at me. I¡¯d spent much of the three day journey sitting on the roof of the aft pagoda. It¡¯d become my go-to spot when holing up in my cabin poring over Meng Xiao¡¯s jade slip got tiring. My record thus far was forty minutes, before the slip began to suspect I was an imposter and I had to drop it. It was an incredible stroke of luck that setting the slip aside reset it¡¯s memory. I was tempted to push farther, to allow the slip to recognize me and see how the impression of Meng Xiao imprinted on it reacted. But I didn¡¯t understand the thing well enough to be certain that it didn¡¯t have the capability to phone home, if given enough time without a session reset.

    I hopped down, flexing my legs as I landed, that my slippers made nary a whisper. I acknowledged Fang Xiao with a nod, then followed in silence as he led me into the pagoda itself.

    There was an odd quality to our silence, stilted but not awkward. A mutual awareness that we were playing a role, if not a full understanding on either side. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he¡¯d been relatively curt with me all trip. I wasn¡¯t bothered, it only made sense that he wouldn¡¯t want to risk alienating Elder Cai. I wouldn¡¯t make any inroads with him by forcing the issue.

    As we entered the bridge, I was mildly surprised to find it relatively crowded. Elder Cai sat just behind the center of the room, lounging in a colossal chair that was very nearly a throne. A low table before her churned with an ocean of sand. After a fraction of a second staring, I realized the shapes crossing it weren¡¯t waves, but a representation of the terrain around us. The waves were simply a product of how quickly we were soaring over the hills below.

    Around the sand table, stood the rest of what I was coming to realize were the leaders of our expedition. Elder Su stood to Cai¡¯s right, leaning against the table, watching the world below rush by. To her right stood Li Ru, who I recognized only from description. He wore his shoulder length black hair slicked back, which was relatively uncommon in the sect, where most male disciples who kept theirs long seemed to prefer to tie it back with a comb or tail. But the thing that truly identified him was his left hand. The smooth glossy porcelain, with its exaggerated doll joints, was unmistakable.

    Further along, Meng Daiyu, the sect¡¯s sole core disciple, stood alongside Hao Yue, the corpse bride. Not that I¡¯d call her that to her face. Rounding out the table, stood Liang Tao, who looked visibly uncomfortable being here.

    To my mild surprise, Fang Xiao retreated after beckoning me into the room. I supposed Elder Cai had no need of him, and he didn¡¯t speak for Elder Akayama in the same way the other disciples did for their masters. That man was rumored to have even less contact with sect politics than the old Elder Hu, seemingly content to never leave his dwelling on the Beastblood Peak.

    I took the open place at Elder Cai¡¯s left and waited in silence. There wasn¡¯t a clear chain of command here. Elder Cai had brought the ship, Meng Daiyu was the sect master¡¯s disciple, but I was the most powerful cultivator present. I supposed Elder Su was in the running as well. I could make a bid for leadership, but I didn¡¯t feel the need. I would rather play kingmaker by picking a side than direct the whole expedition.

    Elder Cai¡¯s eyes popped open.

    ¡°Good, you¡¯re all here.¡±

    Elder Cai had the sort of face that could have been mundane and forgettable, if someone else wore it. She¡¯d seemingly resisted the customary vanity of cultivators, instead keeping the face nature had given her. She wasn¡¯t conventionally beautiful, with a wide face and angular features. Her hair was shot with threads of gray, and she wore the beginnings of wrinkles, as if she were a mortal entering her fifties. But her eyes gave the illusion of well maintained mortality away. They were a steely gray, far purer than her hair, flashing with actinic blue as if a storm raged within them.

    ¡°We will reach the temple in less than four hours.¡± She said without preamble. ¡°As we approach the site, we must be unified in how we will approach the other powers. Time does not favor us. I believe we should evict the Glass Flowers, occupy the temple, break its defensive formations, strip its treasures, and then leave.¡±

    There was silence, as we all processed that. It was a bold plan, to fight two sects and an army detachment at once. But what scared me most, was that we might actually be able to pull it off.

    ¡°At the helm of the Black Sun, I effectively am a second nascent soul cultivator.¡± Elder Cai continued. ¡°Elder Su and Disciple Meng can both evenly match almost any other core formation elder on the field. The sect master¡¯s intelligence suggests we have more inner disciples than the Glass Flowers and Transient Vessel combined. No force present could hope to stand against us in battle.¡±

    Disciple Hao frowned.

    ¡°We would be hard pressed, if all three orthodox forces joined hands.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t. Not in time.¡± Elder Cai replied. ¡°And even if they did, an army is poorly suited for contesting the site against our force. The temple gates are a natural choke point, and the Black Sun¡¯s air superiority would produce ruinous casualties in a prolonged battle. As long as we take the gates in our initial attack we would be almost impossible to dislodge. Elder Hu could easily hold such a small area against half a dozen core formation cultivators.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re trapped in the complex, we risk starting a true war.¡± Meng Daiyu said slowly. ¡°None of us could hope to defeat Qin Longwei or the elders of the Empty Circle. It is unlikely that the sect would mobilize against them, even for us.¡±

    Elder Cai paused for a moment, before replying.

    ¡°So long as we have the Black Sun, that¡¯s not a risk. If we kept the outer disciples on the ship, we could load in seconds.¡±

    ¡°The outer disciples wouldn¡¯t like that.¡± Liang Tao interjected. ¡°They volunteered under the expectation that they would at least have some opportunity to acquire benefits.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure heaven weeps for them.¡± Meng Daiyu said with a laugh.

    ¡°Who cares?¡± Elder Su added more bluntly.

    I didn¡¯t like where this was going. I¡¯d accepted that I wasn¡¯t getting out of this with clean hands, but we could do better than opening with a blitz.

    ¡°Would the Black Sun be safe, against all the elders present, if you were not on it?¡± I asked. ¡°The factions present can field what, seven core formation cultivators?¡±

    ¡°A fair point.¡± Elder Cai conceded with a frown. ¡°Its autonomous defenses would struggle against such a force.¡±

    ¡°Unless we can bring the ship into the temple complex itself, we would risk putting ourselves in a situation where we need to split our forces.¡± I continued. ¡°But if we did need you to remain on the Black Sun, I suppose I could probably cut my way through its defenses.¡±

    Elder Cai¡¯s nose crinkled.

    ¡°An ugly solution. If this complex really is a holdover from the aftermath of the War in Heaven, your sword would be a blunt instrument for gaining access. You would likely destroy much of the value of the temple.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I agreed. ¡°It would be better if you took the lead on breaking the temple¡¯s protections.¡±

    There were a few glances at me, a mild surprise that I conceded so easily that Elder Cai surpassed me in that domain. But nobody said anything.

    The conversation died out, as we all considered the logistics of an assault. I might be able to defend the ship and the outer disciples on my own, if its autonomous defenses were as good as Elder Cai boasted. But the other two elders would be hard pressed to raid the temple and defend the gate without me or the ship.

    No, the more I thought about this, the more I hated the idea. None of this worked, if we couldn¡¯t get the ship inside the temple¡¯s defenses. Our overwhelming advantage in force fell apart if we had to defend two locations without the ability to reinforce each other.

    As I was about to open my mouth to expand on that, Meng Daiyu beat me to it.

    ¡°Perhaps we should consider a more diplomatic initial approach. We can throw our force¡¯s weight around without actually claiming the site, the threat of bombardment alone means the army cannot attack us unless the Glass Flowers allow them to move their camp into the complex.¡±

    ¡°We can always take a more aggressive tack later.¡± I added. ¡°There¡¯s nothing stopping us from seizing the complex after we¡¯ve found a way to get the Black Sun inside.¡±

    ¡°True.¡± Elder Cai said absently. She waved her hand, and the sand on the table stilled. Her qi pulsed, flowing through the walls around us. Sand shifted, revealing the shape of the complex and the surrounding terrain. Grains floated through the air in a hazy bubble around the perimeter of the temple, giving an impression of the shield the Glass Flowers had managed to activate that was allowing them to keep the army at bay. The massed tents of the Qin army were even visible as a rash of bumps in the sand.

    ¡°I suppose there would be no harm in getting a better look at the defenses before we commit to an assault.¡±

    ¡°Are we even certain it¡¯s a temple?¡± Elder Su asked. ¡°What if the Glass Flowers actually do have the level of control over the defensive formations they claim?¡±

    Elder Cai frowned.

    ¡°The Glass Flowers Sect is a historical anomaly. Until two hundred years ago, the land that is now the Qin Empire did not have a yin focused orthodox sect without religious affiliation. They claim the ancestors of others, because they have no history of their own worth the name. I would not be surprised if they didn¡¯t even activate the shield intentionally, but instead gave away their find by fumbling about with controls they don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re agreed then, we¡¯ll approach openly and demand access to the temple?¡± Meng Daiyu said.

    Nobody disagreed.

    For another hour, we discussed the specifics of our initial negotiating position. Slowly, cultivators bowed out, as we settled more and more specifics. Liang Tao and Li Ru left first, once it was established that we would insist all of our disciples be afforded the opportunity to explore the complex unsupervised. Nobody really disagreed with that, as long as the outer disciples wouldn¡¯t be a hindrance to our exit strategy. Meng Daiyu and I would act as the face of our delegation, mostly because neither Elder Su nor Cai really wanted the responsibility.

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    After another forty minutes of considering whether we could leverage the Glass Flowers or the Qin army to splinter the orthodox factions under various hypothetical scenarios, I too made my exit. We wouldn¡¯t know the situation on the ground until we landed, and despite her understated but clear distaste for me, Meng Daiyu and I seemed on the same page. I¡¯d finally remembered where I¡¯d first seen her, before she arrived at my door with a jade slip. She was the one who had scowled at me in the repository shortly after I¡¯d been transmigrated. I wondered what exactly the previous Elder Hu had done to earn her ire. It couldn¡¯t have been too severe, if I¡¯d still been entrusted with her protection.

    Unfortunately, the matter seemed to have been beneath the sect master¡¯s notice, so the jade slip didn¡¯t contain anything on the subject. That, or it hadn¡¯t been deemed mission relevant. I still had no idea how information was imprinted on those.

    As we made our final approach, I sought out Su Li. I eventually found her on the deck, exchanging blows with a tanned outer disciple I didn''t recognize. The outer disciples had congregated near the bow of the ship, no doubt getting stir crazy from two days with nothing to do in shared quarters. It was a good match, clearly friendly, without any of the jockeying for status that seemed endemic in the outer sect.

    It helped, I think, that her opponent began the match already resigned to his eventual loss. The male disciple was much bigger than Su Li, but clearly less advanced. He was¡­ Slow. Couldn¡¯t have been beyond the third stage of qi condensation, probably one of this year¡¯s older initiates. His spearwork was fine, controlled and deft. He kept the weapon close, relying on its range to ward off my disciple, only venturing the occasional clipped thrust.

    But his footwork was so lacking he might as well have been stationary. Su Li picked him apart, steadily circling around him as she dipped in and out of his range, constantly threatening lunges.

    Su Li didn¡¯t need to do anything to break the stalemate. Slowly, he tired. The head of his spear dipped, and he began choking up on its grip to relieve his arms, shortening his reach. Then she danced in and tapped her wooden jian against his throat.

    I didn¡¯t have a great benchmark for the skill she¡¯d started with, but she was definitely getting better. A lot of it was no doubt the small realm she¡¯d advanced, but her footwork was definitely slowly improving as well. I didn¡¯t think my improvised drills had hurt on that front, but I hesitated to assign most of the improvement to them. I knew from experience just how much comfort and confidence could play a role there. An unconfident fighter was an immobile one.

    It¡¯d taken years before I¡¯d really gotten comfortable enough to try to slip a punch without also reflexively backing up to gain distance. I¡¯d always been an out-boxer at heart, probably to the detriment of my development as a fighter. It came with the territory of growing up with long limbs and zero muscle, but it had made me predictable in the ring for a long time.

    I¡¯d have to watch that she didn¡¯t develop similar bad habits. Or find someone else who could see them. I¡¯d no doubt battle-maniacs like Fang Xiao and Elder Xin had better eyes for that than me, it would be a great boon having one of them point out areas of concern.

    Su Li noticed me watching her. I smiled, and her face lit up like a christmas tree in response. I stiffened, a little. It still scared me, just how easy it was to make her happy. How starved she was for approval.

    As she made her way over, I gave the outer disciples who¡¯d slowly been sidling up towards me a meaningful look and they quickly re-established my customary bubble of personal space.

    I leaned out across the edge of the ship, and Su Li followed suit, copying me.

    ¡°How are you doing, Disciple Su?¡±

    The question seemed to take her by surprise. She took a moment to think, before answering.

    ¡°I am doing well. Being out of the sect has been a welcome change of pace. It¡¯s been a long time.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be arriving shortly. The elders and some inner disciples will disembark first, to establish terms.¡±

    ¡°Terms?¡±

    ¡°The Glass Flowers want to keep the site to themselves. But too many other powers are already aware of it. We will politely force the issue, if the imperials and monks haven¡¯t already.¡±

    I paused. Su Li should know how fragile this whole situation was.

    ¡°Nobody wants this to devolve into open conflict, but it might all the same. You are welcome to remain by my side as I explore the compound, but if you do decide to venture out on your own, you should ensure you stick with a large group of the less volatile members of our own sect. The vaunted honor of the orthodox sects is unlikely to prevent them from attempting to pick off any of our disciples they catch at a disadvantage.¡±

    Su Li nodded fiercely.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let them catch me off guard.¡±

    We chatted about inconsequential things for a time. The duels she¡¯d fought, what sort of traps and trials she might expect inside the temple. I made my excuses after a few minutes, and returned to my room. We¡¯d already beaten most of these topics to death during our conversations after her cultivation sessions with the little mirror still resting in my storage ring.

    Instead, I spent my last few hours with Meng Xiao¡¯s jade slip. The sect master¡¯s mental shade provided wordless color commentary as I once more reviewed the six prominent cultivators I¡¯d be dealing with.

    And the seventh that I needed to find a way to kill, ideally without plunging us all into open conflict with the Qin Empire.

    I felt a surge of amusement at that. A sense of inevitability. The Sect Master¡¯s mental imprint rarely communicated in words.

    I probed at it, following the thread of thought. There was a flash of surprise, then an image. A map of the Qin Empire, its lands dyed with half a dozen colors of ink. Wooden figurines being pushed about, then removed from the board. A vision of the Sect Master standing in the shadow of a dragon that was hundreds of feet long. Legions of undead, marching in perfect unison. A wall of lightning that engulfed the horizon.

    A pause. Then a flash of suspicion. I dropped the jade slip. What reaction had the Sect Master expected? Anticipatory bloodthirst? Fear?

    I wasn¡¯t even sure what he¡¯d communicated. The further I got from the content that had been intentionally placed on the slip, the details of my mission and the relevant parties, the vaguer the information it fed to me became.

    Was the imprint on the slip sufficiently like a neural network that it could hallucinate if it didn¡¯t have a real answer to provide? Or was it trying to tell me that the future was a powderkeg? A situation primed to explode into violence, but complex enough that we might fight alongside the Qin, or against them?

    All too soon, my last two hours disappeared. My stomach roiled, as I felt the ship begin to decelerate.

    Showtime.

    I took a deep breath, and looked at my sword. When all you had was a hammer, everything looked like a nail. But wood screws were a crutch for people insufficiently creative with their joinery. After all, the Japanese had proved that a sharp saw and a mallet was all you needed to build anything out of wood. So, really, a sword could be a hammer too in the right circumstances.

    Perhaps that metaphor had gotten away from me. My heart beat fast in my chest. These next hours mattered, more than any teaching I¡¯d done.

    I clenched my hand so tightly my nails threatened to draw blood. I could do this. I would do this.

    I stepped out onto the deck, joining the rest of the sect¡¯s notables, save Elder Cai.

    We watched in silence as the ship slowly came to a stop, thousands of feet above our destination. The oily darkness we¡¯d trailed in our wake since Elder Cai had broken out of the sect¡¯s boundaries slowly began to spread, seeping into the wispy clouds around us. The tendrils of living shadow thickened, grew, somehow finding moisture where none existed before.

    Soon, they had spread so far we couldn¡¯t even see the temple beneath us, and lightning began to flash within them.

    My eyes widened, as I realized what she was doing. Elder Cai had built her own mobile stormcloud. That was what she meant, by the Black Sun¡¯s aerial superiority. If the other three sects objected, she would rain down lightning and darkness upon their earthbound outer disciples. So what if their elders could fly? They couldn¡¯t attack the ship and protect their charges at the same time.

    ¡°I do enjoy intimidating the provincials.¡± Elder Cai said quietly. She¡¯d joined us, after parking the boat. ¡°It''s their own fault really, trying to act like a real sect with a single nascent soul cultivator.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a little harsh, Elder Cai.¡± Elder Su replied. ¡°It¡¯s admirable that they have sought to stand on their own two feet, even if it¡¯s inevitable that they will kneel before us. There¡¯s no fault in discovering something too valuable to hold onto, not if one has the wisdom to relinquish it to the correct person.¡±

    Eyes fell on me, both from the landing party, and our audience.

    ¡°Well then,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s not keep our admirable sisters waiting.¡±

    I stepped up to the edge of the ship, then onto the railing. I teetered slightly, as I pivoted on my heel. I flashed the assembled sect a smile, my teeth bared.

    Then I fell backwards off the edge of the ship.

    The last thing I heard, before the dark clouds swallowed me up, was an outer disciple¡¯s voice.

    ¡°They don¡¯t expect us to jump too, do they?¡±

    Then I was falling through perfect darkness. Lightning flashed around me, prickling the hairs on my arms in a way that cold no longer could.

    Seven seconds passed, and I burst out into the light. I saw the terrain in Elder Cai¡¯s sand-map splayed out beneath me, and angled myself towards the spot of ivory that was the complex¡¯s gates.

    A black arrow shot past me. I stared at Elder Su¡¯s slowly shrinking feet, and she dove vertically towards the ground in a perfect superhero flight pose.

    Well, two could play that game.

    I grabbed my sword from my belt and held it ahead of me like a pull-up bar. Then I rotated my aura, pushing myself towards the ground. I rocketed forward leaving terminal velocity in the dust.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elder Su raise something to her mouth. A pill? Her skin flashed a dark gray, then she too began falling even faster.

    But not half as fast as me. The wind tore at my robes with invisible hands, threatening to pull the top half of my other robe down to my waist-sash. My ponytail waggled about like the tail of a cracked out labrador being introduced to new people, before the leather thong binding my hair simply broke, leaving it flying free in the wind. I stopped actively accelerating as the ground beneath me began to grow larger at an alarming rate.

    Shit, this might actually be too fast. I was sure I¡¯d survive the landing, but a broken leg was not what I was going for.

    I clutched my sword tight to my chest, locking it under my armpits, and circulated qi in the opposite direction.

    The ground kept approaching. The only sign I was slowing at all was the unpleasant pressure beneath my arms.

    The last few seconds of the fall were a blur. I could see disciples now, tiny dots of cold white silk against the dun of the mountainside. I aimed for the great ivory archway, so wide it¡¯d been visible even for miles above.

    In the last instant, I swung my sword out, aligning it with my right forearm, and exerted my will upon the world.

    Not one more inch.

    It hurt. For the first time, I felt the limits of my new body. My bicep screamed, and my shoulder felt like it was about to pop out of its socket.

    But I stopped.

    Three feet above the ground, I hovered in a one-armed iron cross, supported entirely by my sword.

    ¡°Greetings, fellow daoists.¡± I said politely.

    A dozen already pale faces turned downright ghostly.

    I smiled like a wolf in the henhouse. You cannot fight us. Please, I silently prayed. Please understand that.

    To my left, Elder Su crashed into the earth like a descending meteor. A wave of dust exploded outwards with enough force to blind a mortal, the rock pulverized by her impact. An idle part of my mind noted that pill must have made her substantially heavier, not just more durable.

    I looked up, and saw that Elder Cai had outdone us all. She descended slowly, wreathed in unnatural darkness, like the Black Sun in miniature. She leaned lazily backwards, treating the cloud of dense shadow shot with sparks of lightning as if it were a magically mobile futon.

    The face that wouldn¡¯t have been out of place on a mid-career professor of aerospace engineering took on a new cast, shrouded in unnatural darkness.

    As she landed, Meng Daiyu stepped out from her shadow.

    To my right, a bolt of lightning struck the earth. When the flash vanished, Fang Xiao stood in its place.

    One of the Glass Flowers coughed, then gagged, struggling to spit out dust. Her fellow disciples shot her a venomous look, but said nothing.

    ¡°Greetings, sisters.¡± Meng Daiyu said. ¡°I hear that your sect has made a great discovery. We are from the Pathless Night, and we are here to help you protect it.¡±

 Chapter 37 - Iéˆ¥æª“ From a Demonic Sect, and Iéˆ¥æª“ Here to Help

    The women surrounding the gate were as still as statues. From a distance, they might have looked poised. Disciplined. Up close, one could practically see the tension in their frames, as they stood frozen, like rabbits before the wolf.

    Appropriate, if this complex really was a temple to some strange variation of Chang¡¯e. I wasn¡¯t sure what to make of the gods of this strange new world. It was commonly accepted that they existed. Not a single person I¡¯d met, from the peasant Zhao Yue to the venerable Elder Shi, had ever implied otherwise. It was simply common knowledge that they were real, that they heard prayers, and sometimes answered them. And that taking their name in vain, especially the names of the more prideful ones, was a recipe for grave misfortune.

    Which made it all the stranger, that half of them seemed to mirror earthly deities.

    They weren¡¯t the same. But many of them rhymed, so to speak. Shennong seemed the closest to his Chinese legend, sharing ox horns, his name, and his associations with agriculture and medicine with his earthly counterpart. But even he was subtly different, I¡¯d never once heard anyone associate him with the ¡®burning wind¡¯ portion of his earthly legend.

    Others made less sense. Every story I¡¯d heard about Tian made him sound more like Zeus than the Jade Emperor. Proud, vengeful, and concerningly horny. And Nur of the Abyss didn¡¯t even have a chinese name, let alone any legend I could recall.

    The White Goddess was in the middle of that scale. I¡¯d never heard the name Chang¡¯e associated with her, but she seemed to share an awful lot with that legend. Lived on the moon. Didn¡¯t intervene in mortal affairs. Sometimes a prisoner. Associated with rabbits.

    And apparently, the sect master thought it overwhelmingly likely that this was one of her temples, abandoned before the formation of the modern Qin Empire.

    ¡°We thank the Pathless Night for their interest in our ancestor¡¯s legacy.¡± One of the Glass Flowers stepped forward. I felt cold radiating from her. Mid-late foundation establishment. ¡°However, we are fully capable of reclaiming this holy ground on our own. We would welcome the daoists of the Pathless Night to witness the glory of our ancestors, once we¡¯ve fully restored the complex. As it is now, the site¡¯s defenses make it dangerous to foreign cultivators.¡±

    ¡°Is that the final word of the sect¡¯s elders?¡± Meng Daiyu continued to speak for us. ¡°It would be a great shame, if such a historic find were marred by misfortune. We would hate to leave you without the strength needed to protect it, in these chaotic times.¡±

    The inner disciple paused, unsure how to respond to the unsubtle threat. How galling it must be for her. She was likely one of the strongest disciples in her entire sect, and she would struggle to stand against the weakest of our greeting party.

    Then Elder Cai just started walking forwards, shadow trailing in her wake.

    A dozen throats made various noises of protest, which she completely ignored. One disciple pulled out a fan and brandished it like it was a reasonable object to use as a weapon. Elder Cai ignored that too.

    Glass Flowers shuffled backwards, making a variety of undignified noises as they retreated from the tongues of lightning that struck out blindly around her.

    Elder Su and I exchanged a look, then turned to follow. I still wasn¡¯t sure if Elder Cai was mildly autistic, or just impatient and very fond of direct solutions. But we were already off script, and that wasn¡¯t good. Cai would be the wildcard here, I just needed to keep her from killing anyone.

    ¡°Excuse me, sisters. It seems our seniors will decide the matter. The disposition of the site is, of course, not for mere foundation establishment cultivators to decide.¡± Meng Daiyu punctuated her parting shot by flexing her own core formation cultivation. The senior Glass Flower looked like she wanted to murder Meng Daiyu and wear her skin, unable to decide if she was hungry, or furious.

    We didn¡¯t really know where we were going. But people were fleeing before us, and it was easy enough to just follow the largest crowd.

    ¡°Get the elders!¡± One girl shouted.

    ¡°Elder Xue is in the long hall, it¡¯ll take hours to reach her!¡±

    A crowd began to form around us, as disciples came to ogle at the commotion. Half the guards at the gate followed us at a distance, unsure what to do, but smart enough not to attack a force that could wipe out their entire sect.

    ¡°Quiet! Stop panicking, you are daoists, not clucking chickens!¡± The eldest disciple hissed. Ice Princess, I mentally dubbed her. ¡°Disciples Fan and Zhang, get back to your posts. The rest of you, return to your duties. Disciple Li and I will escort our honored guests to the elders.¡±

    The Ice Princess and disciple Li fell into step ahead of us, walking just far enough ahead of Elder Cai to avoid getting their robin egg blue robes singed. None of us acknowledged them, but Elder Cai did follow when they started leading us deeper into the complex.

    The great ivory gate had opened onto a courtyard, a seemingly open space near a mile across. That was misleading, according to the sect master¡¯s intelligence, it was fully enclosed in the same protective formations as the rest of the mountain.

    It was shrouded in shadow now, as the Black Sun¡¯s storm cloud eclipsed its moniker¡¯s light. Glass Flowers stared up at the spreading darkness, awe and horror warring across their faces. A complicated feeling swelled in my chest. It was glorious in a way, the power the sect commanded. But, if I understood what was going on in the sect correctly, it was built upon a mountain of corpses. In perhaps the most literal sense imaginable.

    I stared up at the mountain before us, its slopes shot with beautiful gardens, marble still snow-white after uncounted millenia, half-obscured by plants that hadn¡¯t seen a gardener in millenia history. I wondered how slowly they grew, that so much of the temple was still visible.

    There¡¯d been a partial inventory on the jade slip, what the sect master had recognized by sight. Some of those plants were likely worth thousands of spirit stones. Safely procuring them was almost certainly a large part of why Elder Su had joined us. I wasn''t sure if she had volunteered, or been volun-told to join the expedition as I had. Princely compensation or no, there had been no doubt in the imprint on the jade slip that I would do as I''d been asked.

    I allowed some of my qi to slip it''s leash, and leak out into the world. I was beginning to properly get a handle on my spiritual sense now, after some more practice on the ship. With some exceptions, to sense was to be sensed. If I focused, I could make my qi more subtle, or more domineering. But even at my most discrete, only the very weakest of our disciples didn''t notice at all when my sense passed over them. The only way to go completely incognito was to blind myself, and keep my qi entirely within my body.

    I still tended to keep it tightly leashed by default, but not as fully as when I''d arrived. I worried what the other elders might see, if they inspected me closely. A dense shroud of my Elder Hu¡¯s qi should hopefully blot out any trace of my own thoughts or feelings, drown them out with a song of slaughter and steel.

    This time, rather than let it expand all around me, I sent the qi upwards in a questing tendril, reaching towards those distant gardens. It surged quickly at first, then began to grow sluggish as it got farther and farther away. I kept pushing, walking on auto-pilot as I tried to feel out the barrier that kept us from landing the Black Sun.

    It was an ineffable thing, strain as I might, I wasn''t even sure whether or not I was pressing up against it. The Sect Master called it ¡®A higher mystery related to distance¡¯. The foundation of the temple''s defenses. If I could cut it, that would open up all sorts of options.

    Unfortunately, I rather doubted I could. The Sectmaster¡¯s token hadn¡¯t been certain the old Hu would have been able to.

    ¡°Through here, honored elders.¡± The Ice Princess laced the epithet with enough venom to kill an elephant. I met her eyes, and gave her a pleasant smile. The woman flinched away and turned forward again. I felt like I should probably feel bad about that, but truth be told, I really didn¡¯t.

    I retracted my qi in an instant, pulling it back into a dense shroud a few inches from my skin as we passed beneath a second, colossal circular gate into the mountain itself. A single turn off the main entryway led us into a smaller, but still colossal hall.

    The two disciples led us to a door sealed with a barrier, a wall of light that resembled Su Li¡¯s lunar qi. With the wave of an arm, the Ice Princess dispersed it.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Well, that was an unwelcome complication. We¡¯d assumed that it was an empty boast, that they could command some of the temple''s formations.

    A gentle hand poked at my shadow. I turned to meet Meng Daiyu¡¯s eyes. Her customary scowl was gone, replaced by a cold focus. Twice more, she poked at my shadow. I nodded discreetly. Plan two then. Elder Cai would like that.

    ¡°Do you intend to give us a tour so circuitous that we become bored enough to head home?¡± Elder Cai asked, already getting started.

    ¡°Elder Cao is just through these doors, honored guests.¡± Disciple Li said, a tremor in her voice. The Ice Princess shot her a disappointed look.

    Elder Cai huffed, then walked past the two disciples. Idly, I wondered how old they were. Thirties? Forties? Older? A foundation establishment cultivator could easily make it to their fifties or sixties without showing their age if they advanced early enough. My eyes clocked the two disciples as young women, but they might well be decades my senior.

    A blast of air buffeted all of us, as Elder Cai blew the doors open with a wave of pressure. A spell? Or could cultivation pressure be made physical? Thick liquid darkness billowed before her like a carpet as we advanced into the great hall.

    A colossal throne of dull white marble dominated the far end of the space, sized for someone easily twenty feet tall. A mortal man would have needed a running start and a few tries just to clamber up onto the seat of it. If he dared. There was a solemnity to it, a sense that it was not something to be so casually desecrated.

    I hadn¡¯t yet met a cultivator that large. Even Elder Shi¡¯s pet death cultivator was barely half that height. It certainly lent some credence to the idea we were standing in the abandoned house of a goddess.

    The throne was empty, but two women stood at its feet. They were a study in contrasts, opposites in almost every respect.

    They were of a height, both perhaps five nine. But one wore robes spun silver, her white hair flowing behind her like a frozen waterfall. Where she was slim and ethereal, her compatriot was curvy enough to fill out her ink-black robes. The second elder wore tattooed poems like jewelry, thin black lines of characters criss-crossing her exposed skin. One originated at the base of her right eye, descending downwards beneath her collar like an inky tear.

    The contrast between the two made for a striking sight.

    ¡°It is an honor that the Pathless Night thinks our sect¡¯s discovery merits the attention of four elders.¡± The black-clad elder said. Elder Cao, I knew from the slip. A poet and illusionist who dabbled in sealing and formations. Allegedly operated as a sort of control mage in battle, locking down enemies and wearing them down for her allies to finish off.

    Elder Cai frowned, then smirked.

    ¡°Three elders. We are not so desperate to fill out our ranks that merely entering core formation is sufficient to earn the title.¡±

    The Glass Flowers showed no surprise at being corrected, but no amount of composure could erase the mis-step.

    ¡°This small one is Meng Daiyu.¡± Our sect¡¯s young mistress added. ¡°She strives to live up to the legacy of her honored father, the Saint of Empty Night, Patriarch and Sectmaster of the Pathless Night Sect.¡±

    ¡°Three elders, then. Who do we have the honor of speaking to?¡±

    Introductions were made. The woman in white was Elder Fan, lunar cultivator, and nominal head of the Glass Flower expedition. She was the strongest cultivator they¡¯d brought, standing near the peak of core formation, and a decorated war hero to boot. When the Qin Empire had called the great sects to arms against the Shan, she¡¯d volunteered to serve for several consecutive tours, to spare the sect¡¯s younger generation the obligation.

    Her archery and mastery of defensive and escape techniques were well known. Her ranged attacks were dangerous enough to force even nascent soul cultivators to dodge or block them, and her speed and illusions prevented any of her peers from pinning her down and forcing a fair fight.

    Powerful tools. Probably a lot less effective when outnumbered and confined to a small area.

    She stared at us like the unwelcome guests we were, but even I could sense the fear beneath her impeccable composure. There was no level of acting that could conceal a truth everyone in the room knew.

    ¡°Why have you come? There is nothing for you here.¡± Elder Fan finally said.

    ¡°We are here for the same reason as you, to loot the ruins of our ancestors.¡± Elder Cai replied.

    ¡°I had hoped that elders of the venerable Pathless Night would be better informed. As my disciple has shown you, the holy land of our ancestors has recognized our lineage.¡±

    ¡°Bold, for a sect that barely merits the name to try to claim descent from divinity, however pathetic the deity. You can dress it up however you like, you are children squatting in the halls of the dead.¡±

    ¡°You dare!¡±

    Elder Cai tilted her head, as if genuinely confused.

    ¡°Of course I dare. Why do weaklings always ask that? Is your honored ancestor going to strike me down? The Pathless Night has had a branch in these lands since before they bore the name of Qin. We both know your sect has no history worth the word.¡±

    ¡°We are a pillar of the Qin Empire!¡±

    With exaggerated slowness, Elder Cai turned to cast her eyes up and down the hall.

    ¡°How queer that none of their officials are present. It must be a great oversight, that their army is camped outside, rather than garrisoning this temple. Perhaps you should invite them in, I''m sure they would agree that your claim takes precedence over theirs.¡±

    Holy shit, Elder Cai was born for this role. I wasn''t even sure she was acting at this point.

    ¡°The Imperial Army has seen the wisdom of respecting our expertise.¡± Elder Fan shot back. ¡°The defenses of the complex are many and without mercy. Even with the acknowledgement of the White Goddess, delving deeper into the temple¡¯s mystery has not been without risk. The trials of our honored ancestors are fully capable of killing even a nascent soul cultivator who does not treat them with the respect they are due.¡±

    Elder Cai snorted.

    ¡°I am certain that¡¯s what they¡¯re telling the other two great sects. Certainly not that they¡¯re waiting for you to either bleed yourselves out against its defenses, or discover something worth getting their wounded emperor out of bed to confiscate.¡±

    ¡°We do not answer to Qin Longwei.¡± Elder Fan ground out through gritted teeth.

    ¡°You know, our sect says the same thing. The difference is that when we say it, it¡¯s actually true. You cower beneath the shield of his name, he is your lord in every way that matters.¡±

    ¡°Only a demon can see the mutual honor of our long friendship and reduce it to a simple hierarchy. We are the experts his majesty has chosen for this purpose.¡±

    ¡°Expert implies understanding. Whatever trinket you have found that grants you a lesser authority over the complex does not constitute it.¡± Elder Cai said.

    ¡°Our command of the temple¡¯s formations is nothing so trite as a trinket from our treasury. It is bold of you to claim expertise when you do not understand even the most basic functionality of the temple¡¯s formations.¡±

    ¡°I have forgotten more about formations than your entire sect has ever known.¡± Elder Cai said with the tone of a long suffering parent explaining to a toddler why bees are not edible. ¡°Given sufficient time, any formation will yield its secrets to me.¡±

    Even the calmer Elder Cao was frowning now, at that blatant insult to her expertise. I supposed that was about my cue.

    I sighed.

    It was a whopper of a sigh. Obnoxiously loud, finishing with that raggedy little rumble that came when one fully exhaled all the air of their chest, to make it abundantly clear it was intentional.

    I marshaled my features, arranging them into the look I¡¯d half an hour practicing in a hand mirror. I called it ¡®Disinterested Tyrant Lays Down the Law¡¯.

    I drew my qi in like a deep breath, then exhaled out a single wave of pressure. No suppressing weight, but a single sharp slap.

    ¡°This squabbling is beneath us, fellow daoists.¡± I said calmly. ¡°You are not fools, and can see the truth of the matter as clearly as we can. The sky is vast and the emperor is far. Unless that changes, there was only ever one outcome the moment the Black Sun arrived overhead.¡±

    ¡°Our sect¡¯s honor demands that-¡±

    ¡°Your honor is irrelevant before our might.¡± I said firmly, speaking over Elder Fan.

    ¡°-we protect the integrity of this-¡±

    ¡°You can yield with grace and allow our disciples free access to the complex, to explore at their own risk on the same terms as your own do.¡± I kept talking, and Elder Fan fell silent as I ignored her. ¡°In exchange, we will uphold the primacy of your claim against the other two great sects, and share with you what we learn from our own explorations.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re one of the three great sects of the Qin Empire!¡± Elder Cao hissed. ¡°You can¡¯t just dictate terms to us!¡±

    ¡°I believe I just did. We do not need your permission. If the mistress of your sect was here, we would not need her permission either. You do not wish Qin Longwei to intervene here any more than we do. He will favor his army and sect over you. You will share the complex. Or you may choose to waste your blood, and my time, and our disciples will have access to the temple all the same.¡±

    Silence fell, as my unsubtle threat made clear exactly where we stood. My heart was in my throat. We would win any battle. The disparity in power was colossal. Meng Daiyu would suppress Elder Cao for a moment. Our three elders would kill Elder Fan in an instant. I would kill Elder Fan.

    They would yield. They had to yield. There was no other choice.

    In my mind''s eye, I saw Elder Fan¡¯s white robes stained crimson. I didn¡¯t even know the woman. Could I kill her over this? Would I live out the month if I didn¡¯t? Despite my cultivation, my palms felt sticky.

    Tension built as Elder Fan remained silent. The air began to ionize as Elder Cai gathered power, eager to begin.

    ¡°Why should we share with a bunch of charlatans-¡± I held up my hand, as Elder Cai began her objection. She fell silent. Truth be told, neither of us had really seen the need for such subterfuge. But Meng Daiyu had liked the idea of pretending at internal disunity, and neither of us had really cared enough to disabuse her of it.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re not giving us much of a choice.¡± Elder Fan finally said.

    ¡°We all have a choice, Elder Fan.¡± I said softly, allowing a crack in my stern mask. ¡°Make the right one.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Don¡¯t come crying to us, when the White Goddess¡¯s legacy devours you whole.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Finally!¡± Elder Cai barked brightly. ¡°I thought this was going to take all afternoon. Disciple Fang, with me. I¡¯m going to take a look at the central seal. No time like the present to show the provincials how it¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°I shall accompany you, I think.¡± I said. This was already far more involved than I¡¯d hoped to be. ¡°Young Mistress Meng, would you be so kind as to hammer out the finer details of logistics with Elder Fan?¡±

    Elder Fan¡¯s face tightened at the insult of being handed off to a disciple. I didn¡¯t care. Meng Daiyu and Fang Xiao had handled most of the mundane organization of this trip anyway. If being forced to treat a girl a fourth of her age as an equal irritated Elder Fan, hopefully it would keep her from getting any unfortunate ideas.

    I felt a strange nostalgia as I followed Elder Cai out into the temple proper. Staring at a complex system I didn¡¯t understand with a couple of equally clueless colleagues, why, it would almost be like being back at my old job.

 Chapter 38 - The Charlatan and the Scholar

    Fang Xiao and I followed Elder Cai through a twisting warren of lifeless stone hallways. There were traces of the life that had once dwelled in these ancient halls, silk tapestries withered into thin yellowed vines, wall scrolls eaten away by moths and beetles until only the wooden rods that had framed them remained.

    Curious, that insects had managed to get in here. The outer formation should have prevented that. Perhaps a population had survived in the closed ecosystem of the temple for a thousand years?

    Every so often we¡¯d pass a piece of art that had stood the test of time. The most common were lacquered once-red lanterns now faded to the brown of long dried blood, lit anew by the Glass Flowers. But the most instructive were the mosaics. Even they were faded; small piles of stone grew from the edges of the hall, where the grout had failed and chips of jade and carnelian had fallen like rain. But neither the missing tiles nor the thick layer of dust could fully obscure the narrative unfolding before us.

    Scenes from the life of a woman in robes of red and blue. A great romance, an archer in green appearing in dozens of scenes of parties and hunts. Scenes of grief and solitude, standing alone beneath the full moon. Carrying a lantern and bowl beneath an empty sky. Standing alone before an army, framed by a moon blazing brighter than the noonday sun.

    Chang¡¯e and Hou Yi. Or Chang¡¯e and whatever the man¡¯s name was in the earlier stories. Wu something? It had to be. Despite the many differences, it was too impossibly similar to be a different story. Or maybe I was making too much out of it? I still hadn¡¯t heard the name Chang¡¯e here, perhaps I was just fixating on the fact that Shennong was an object of worship in this world as well as the last one.

    I had no idea what to do with any of that information.

    Slowly, we approached the center of the complex. Or, the center of the miracle that protected it? It was hard to really gauge the geography of the temple itself except by comparing it with the mountain it was housed in. Even without releasing my spiritual sense I could feel the magnitude of the central formation, a mass of lunar qi as bright as the great white jade moon upon the wall. It was impossible to miss, a steady pressure like the light of the sun against closed eyelids.

    Finally we emerged into an impossibly long hallway.

    ¡°That is most impressive.¡± Fang Xiao said quietly.

    I did not disagree with him. My eyes could see for miles, and as far as I could tell, the hall simply stretched to the very horizon. The space was wide enough you could have run three trains side by side without touching either wall, and the ceiling was a full sixty feet above us. It felt almost airy, even though we were surrounded by thick walls of rock on all sides.

    ¡°The servants of Heaven have many faults. Insufficient architectural vision has never been one of them.¡± Elder Cai replied. ¡°I do look forward to pulling this one apart.¡±

    Instead of the physical lanterns we¡¯d passed in the lesser hallways, this hall was lit by an even white glow that didn¡¯t operate in a way compatible with my former understanding of light. The further down the tunnel you looked, the brighter the glow became. But it was sourceless, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

    A few Glass Flowers lingered about the hall, studying mosaics or passing between the doors that abutted it. Their beautiful faces took on an alien cast in the strange pseudo-light, the impossibly even illumination left everything looking flatter and paler than it was.

    We walked forward, towards the light. Backs stiffened and whispers died as disciples noticed us.

    ¡°Interesting. The entire effect is gradual, growing in intensity as we progress. The barrier protecting the inner temple itself must be asymptotic in nature, rather than anchored in a specific location.¡± Elder Cai mused.

    It took me a moment to follow what she was talking about. Then I felt it, as I took my next step. The way my feet were moving didn¡¯t match the seams of the stones in the floor, my slipper landing ever so slightly shy of where I expected it to.

    ¡°Is it tied to the intensity of the light?¡± I wondered aloud.

    Instantly, a thick wave of shadow extended from beneath the hem of Elder Cai¡¯s robes. It flowed outwards like half-solidified jello, leaving small pools around Fang Xiao and I¡¯s feet.

    ¡°What are you doing! This is a sacred space!¡± One Glass Flower hissed.

    Elder Cai took a few steps across the shadowed section. She paused, hitched up the skirt of her robes, then hopped. She took a few more steps, before looking up.

    I suppressed a smile.

    ¡°Hard to tell, without seeing the floor. I don¡¯t think it is. Will need to check again deeper in.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps the two effects stem from the same source then?¡± I mused.

    ¡°Possible. Likely even. Can¡¯t trust the most obvious hypothesis. Will need instruments to confirm a relationship. Disciple Fang, bring me box four.¡±

    Fang Xiao coughed.

    ¡°What?¡± Elder Cai turned, frowning.

    ¡°My movement technique is liable to interact with the contents of box four.¡± He said calmly.

    Elder Cai pulled something from her robe and tossed it to him. It moved slower, then fell farther than it should have, forcing Fang Xiao to stoop to catch the small token.

    ¡°Good catch. Knew I kept you around for something. Find a spot to land the Black Sun.¡±

    Did she just hand a twenty-odd year old disciple the keys to a war machine that could probably level a city? It said something about the last few weeks that I wasn¡¯t even sure if that rated as something I should be concerned about. It would probably be fine.

    The two of us walked deeper into the light. Disciples became sparser the farther we went, though we passed a few sitting against the far walls of the hallway, attempting to cultivate the strange mixture of lunar and spatial qi.

    After a few minutes, we stopped. Using the adjoining doorways as landmarks, we¡¯d only progressed a few hundred feet. Looking at the crowd of disciples in the distance, it seemed like closer to a mile.

    Darkness flooded outwards from Elder Cai again, but this time she didn¡¯t even need to bother to avoid my feet. The flood simply ran out of momentum before it¡¯d extended more than a few feet from her.

    ¡°Was that the same volume as last time?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. How does it look from your perspective?¡±

    ¡°Substantially smaller. To you?¡±

    ¡°Approximately the same area. It¡¯s not direct suppression, the spatial phenomena is simply far more intense. We¡¯re easily standing several bu apart now.¡±

    Interesting. What was that, ten feet? Elder Cai still looked close enough to touch if I were to lean a little.

    ¡°Light must not be affected as much as matter. You don''t look that far away.¡±

    Elder Cai hummed thoughtfully, then extended an arm in my direction. She waved it around in the direction of my nose.

    ¡°The perspective is all wrong. Your hand looks as if you¡¯re holding it directly in front of your face, even though your arm is fully extended. Like a painting done by a poor artist.¡±

    ¡°Domains must be disparate. It splits targets into their own sealed spaces?¡± Elder Cai muttered under her breath. ¡°What is it partitioning on? Innate Qi? Matter?¡±

    She turned over her arm, beckoning to the darkness seeping out from beneath her robes. Slowly, the dense black fog began rising to meet her, forming into a floating orb.

    Elder Cai proceeded to ponder her orb. Occasionally she prodded at it, making it grow larger and smaller as she manipulated her qi. I left her to it, happy to accept the tacit dismissal.

    I felt comfortable here, more so than I¡¯d felt in a while. I was beginning to get a handle on Elder Cai. She was so much less inscrutable than so many of my new colleagues. She wanted to understand the great formation of the temple, and to loot the resources in its depths. She liked being acknowledged as an expert, especially by me, her nominal senior. She didn¡¯t like being distracted from her work, compromising, negotiating, or being told ¡®no¡¯ directly.

    Simple. Clean. Manageable. Possibly a mild touch of the ¡®tism. Her personality might be a problem for juniors who chafed under her dictatorial whims, but for me, it was perfect. I didn¡¯t mind the lack of manners or the way that she presumed everyone knew less than her. Especially since I did in fact know less than her.

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    The formation itself was the opposite in a way, but no less pleasant a change of pace for it. Nobody understood how it worked. There were no verbal land-mines, no obvious wrong answers to avoid. It was just a bizarre mystery people were working around without really understanding, which summarized about half the projects I¡¯d spent my professional career working on. Familiar territory. Well, perhaps that was an overstatement, but it was a comforting thought all the same.

    How could I dig into this? I didn¡¯t understand the qi mechanics well enough to pursue that angle. Cai had implied that the field behaved differently around people than it did between them. How far did that bubble extend?

    I pulled my sword from my belt, sheath and all. I extended my arm to its full length, holding my sword perfectly vertical. I turned my arm over, ninety degrees to the right.

    My sword moved slower than it should.

    There wasn¡¯t a resistance. There was nothing to push against. The tip just moved slower than it should have. Not by much, but by enough to notice. Only a full quarter of a second after my wrist finished moving, did the tip of the scabbard come to a stop at the nine o¡¯clock position.

    I pulled my arm close, and made the same motion.

    It was faster.

    That made no sense. My wrist was moving at the same rate. My sword was a straight piece of steel. The angular velocity of the tip was a function of the rate at which the hilt rotated.

    I extended my arm again, trying to look at both my wrist and the tip of my sword at the same time. Despite my best efforts, one of the two was always blurry, as if it were out of focus. My sword didn¡¯t look like it was bending. It just looked wrong, like I was seeing something that shouldn¡¯t have been possible.

    I extended my qi around my sword, and made the same motion. The tip lagged.

    I unsheathed the blade, and focused. The cold un-light of my sword intent flickered into existence around the blade, cutting through the uniform white glow of the hall. I turned my wrist once more.

    The blade sliced through the air without distortion or obstruction. But the space itself remained twisted. Elder Hu might have been able to cut the distortion itself, but I certainly couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Amusing yourself, Elder Hu?¡± Cai said, looking up from her strangely pulsating ball of darkness.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just empty space being bent. Contiguous objects are affected, even those shrouded in qi. But sword intent is unobstructed, as are objects close enough to a person.¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡± Elder Cai mused. ¡°I was unable to meaningfully oppose the phenomena with qi alone. Perhaps it isn¡¯t spatial manipulation at all then, but some form of authority. Something similar to Elder Xin¡¯s Still Waters, or the Sectmaster¡¯s Pathless Night. A direct resistance to motion would be more vulnerable to your undirected intent than a spatial phenomena.¡±

    I nodded, as if I understood more than half of that.

    Elder Cai turned away from the blinding white glow at the far end of the hallway and looked at me directly.

    ¡°You are abnormally personable today.¡±

    I tensed. Had I gotten too comfortable?

    ¡°You on the other hand seem much the same as ever, as insightful as you are abrasive.¡± I replied.

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s that viper¡¯s tongue. How kind of you to turn it to my aggrandizement. Still, I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t rush directly for the trials.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rare I run into a defense that I cannot cut. It¡¯s worth a detailed examination for that alone.¡±

    I turned to stare at the blinding glow of the formation in the distance. A few hundred yards away, but as untouchable as the moon. Elder Cai followed my eyes.

    ¡°Besides, I¡¯m the only Nascent Soul cultivator here.¡± I continued with a wry smile. ¡°Any trials suitable for me aren¡¯t going to be cleared tonight. Perhaps you should be the one in a rush.¡±

    Elder Cai frowned, and I¡¯d worried I¡¯d overstepped.

    ¡°I always hated the idea of inheritance trials.¡± She said slowly. ¡°It¡¯s disgraceful that someone long dead should presume to judge my skills. They challenged Heaven and lost. I owe no respect to their remains. I would rather take their treasures by force, then be judged worthy by a failure.¡±

    Huh. I hadn¡¯t expected that.

    The two of us lapsed into a companionable silence, as Elder Cai returned to manipulating her orb of darkness.

    For the moment, I was out of ideas for digging further into the mechanics of the great formation. Instead, I found my mind drifting towards the subject of cultivation.

    I¡¯d spent so much time trying to become something I wasn¡¯t. Elder Hu¡¯s cultivation wasn¡¯t mine. There¡¯d been so much fear and arrogance in the way I approached it. Elder Hu¡¯s cultivation base was the work of several lifetimes. At least two hundred years of effort, perhaps as many as four hundred, had gone into it. And he hadn¡¯t left behind a single written note. I didn¡¯t even know the name of his cycling method, if it even had one.

    It was one thing, to come up with a new cultivation method from scratch. It was rare, but some people managed to create their own qi condensation methods without any formal education at all. It became far less common as cultivators climbed through the realms. Most paths ended in dead ends.

    It¡¯d been the height of arrogance, to think I had any chance of picking up where Hu Xin left off and pushing forward. The breakthrough to void-shattering supposedly wasn¡¯t one of the great bottlenecks, like core formation, nascent soul, or immortal ascension. But it still required a colossal volume of qi, absolute mastery of a complex cycling pattern, and an inhuman level of understanding of the concepts that underpinned the method itself.

    And if Hu Xin¡¯s understanding of the sword had been insufficient to take that next step, how could I hope to?

    I was starting to suspect that the very fact I could even command his sword intent was because when he¡¯d advanced to nascent soul, he¡¯d effectively imbued it into his cultivation base. All the treatises I¡¯d read implied that was the qualitative difference between core formation and nascent soul, the step of merging fragments of the great dao itself into your qi.

    And yet, the idea of giving up was unthinkable. These last few weeks, the demands of the sect had been light. But over the course of decades, I had no doubt I¡¯d eventually be forced to choose between my morals and my neck.

    Perhaps Qin Wenyan wasn¡¯t the only one on the wrong track. I quite literally couldn¡¯t disperse Elder Hu¡¯s cultivation, but what if I just ignored it, and forged my own path?

    The human body had three dantians after all, and I¡¯d seen no evidence Elder Hu¡¯s path made use of the upper or lower except as pass-throughs.

    Everything I¡¯d read said that having multiple cultivation bases made further advancement harder, if not impossible. It was strongly discouraged, more associated with demons concealing themselves or indecisive dilletantes than geniuses. But I had no real chance of advancing anyway.

    What would I be, if I could become anything? What path would I walk?

    There was the Path of the Bleeding Heart. It still sat in my storage ring, too interesting to discard, but too situational to put to use. I¡¯d considered giving it to Qin Wenyan, but my gut told me that was a bad idea. The raging alcoholism, the way he¡¯d immediately jumped at rejoining the army once I¡¯d mentioned it might help him overcome his bottleneck. He didn¡¯t strike me as a man who did moderation well, and an addictive personality and blood cultivation seemed a recipe for a monster.

    I could follow it myself. The chief limiting factor of blood cultivation was the practitioner¡¯s ability to kill men and beasts to use as resources. Even if I restricted myself to hunting monsters, I would have effectively limitless cultivation resources well into core formation.

    But what was even the point? I had ideas for how such a technique might be turned to heal as well as harm, or synergize with Elder Hu¡¯s sword. But even if I took that technique all the way to the peak of core formation, it wouldn¡¯t give me many options I didn¡¯t already have.

    There was cooking. I was probably the best cook in the Pathless Night, I''d yet to see an elder or inner disciple who treated the art as anything other than a chore. By mortal standards, I was no slouch. But dedicating my life to it? Making it the foundation of my being? I¡¯d worked kitchens, but it¡¯d never been more than a job to me, and far from my favorite one at that. I cooked because it was fun and good takeout was expensive, it wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d ever really considered dedicating my life to. Did that calculus change, if being good enough at it brought power and immortality? Not really.

    I wanted to learn immortal cookery. Hell, immortal brewing too. But I didn¡¯t think I cared enough to try to make it the foundation of a cultivation technique.

    When you stripped it all away, who even was I? Forty years had felt like such a long time, but what had I ever really truly cared about, beyond my family? I¡¯d worked in kitchens and bars, military bases and software startups. I¡¯d spent decades in schools and years in ambulances.

    None of it ever mattered to me enough to dedicate my life to it. It¡¯d all ever been a means to an end, a way to see the world or put food on the table.

    The closest things I¡¯d ever had to a passion were medicine and software. And I¡¯d balked at the working conditions of medical residency, and I¡¯d only ended up in software because I¡¯d have blown my brains out before I reached an air force pension.

    Funny, how small our lives can look in hindsight. Or our careers at least.

    It was an idea though. Software was just information in motion. Well, not really. Running software was information in motion. At rest it was just a series of instructions. My upper dantian was empty. An abstract command of information and knowledge, that was the sort of power that might change my circumstances. Render myself impossible to remember, or difficult to track.

    I stared at the formation. I¡¯d watched it so long now I almost felt like I could make out moving characters in the featureless white void. The formation that managed this whole temple had to implement certain patterns I was familiar with. It would need authentication and authorization. Some concept of state, to be able to turn door barriers on and off. There had to be more functions, if this complex once supported thousands of inhabitants, and had the intelligence to test and reward those who took its trials.

    It was just the seed of an idea. I didn¡¯t know what information qi would even look like on its own, let alone how to cultivate it. But if it existed anywhere, a formation like this ought to have a great deal of it at its core.

    Perhaps it was entirely the wrong track. It would be a long journey before it amounted to anything useful. There was a good chance that I could make more progress defending myself in the short term by simply focusing on maximizing my advantages, acquiring more powerful magical swords, or learning more dirty tricks. Or just find another, less concerning, Void-Shattering cultivator to serve. I''d have seriously considered defecting for the Qin Empire already, if they weren''t at war, and apparently slowly losing to boot.

    But the idea of my own cultivation called to me, beyond practicality. Once I ensured my own safety, and Su Li''s, it was perhaps the thing I wanted most. It was hard to articulate why exactly, even in my own head.

    Perhaps it just felt like a way to be me again, instead of Hu Xin.

    ¡°Elder Cai!¡± A voice called out from behind me. ¡°I¡¯ve brought box four.¡±

    Elder Cai looked up from her orb, blinking. It had grown while I stared into the light. Now it was half a dozen feet in diameter, and every so often it bulged violently, as if something trapped inside were trying to escape. I felt like I should be surprised by this, but my ability to be shocked by anything was pretty stretched at the moment. I probably needed a few months of normalcy to really recalibrate, before that particular brain function would work again.

    ¡°Good! Give it here.¡± She barked. ¡°It will take a delicate hand to avoid tainting the stones in an environment this aspected.¡±

    ¡°Elder Cai.¡± I said. The in question woman looked up from the crate she was unpacking, already surrounded by arcane implements wrought in metal and glass. ¡°Your comment, about the temerity of the dead, to dare to test the living, strikes a chord in me. Would you mind assistance in your efforts to dismantle or subvert this formation?¡±

    Elder Cai smiled brightly, and her eyes flashed once more with lightning.

    ¡°Why Elder Hu, your sword opens up so very many interesting approaches. I would be honored to dismember this formation with you.¡±

 Chapter 39 - All the World a Stage

    Su Li felt like she was drifting through a dream. It wasn¡¯t merely the fact that she¡¯d spent more than a quarter of her life in the Pathless Night. The drastic change of scenery was sudden, but she hadn¡¯t felt like this sitting on the deck of the Black Sun, the unfiltered light of its namesake shining down upon her face. No, there was something about this temple that affected her so.

    That was what it was, she knew. The others hedged their words, called it a complex in one sentence, and a ruin in the next. But she could feel in her bones this had been a place of wonder, perhaps even of true worship. A place one came to witness the sort of mystery that reminded men how small they were. As her feet mindlessly marched in Fang Xiao¡¯s wake, she saw the same rapture reflected in the faces of so many of the Glass Flowers who had settled at the edge of the great hallway, meditating on the phenomena.

    She¡­ She was not sure that she wished to join them. It felt too much like staring into the light of the noonday sun; a fool¡¯s indulgence her father had chided her for. In this place, deep below the ground, she felt closer to the moon than she usually felt sitting beneath the open sky. But the blinding white light surrounding her, for all that it carried great waves of lunar qi within it, did not feel like the moon¡¯s stark and distant comfort. It was something else here that called to her, welcoming her to a home she¡¯d never known.

    A voice that had become so very familiar broke her out of her trance.

    ¡°Elder Cai, it would be impolitic to kidnap one of the Glass Flower¡¯s disciples at this juncture.¡± Her master said politely, but firmly.

    Elder Hu and Elder Cai stood alone together deep within the light of the great hall. Dozens of eyes tracked them, Glass Flowers with nothing better to do loitering to stare at the seniors in their midst. They¡¯d unloaded a room¡¯s worth of strange equipment and mundane furnishings from their storage rings. Su Li swore she saw Elder Hu¡¯s stone stove sitting next to an elegant writing desk, both equally covered with scrolls and sheets of loose paper.

    ¡°You agreed though, that those foreign objects within their auras are almost certainly the keys granting them access to the deeper rooms. If we could isolate one of them, and compare its qi composition to that of the room.¡± Elder Cai gestured towards a strange machine that rested amidst the clutter. A colossal spirit stone hung from a cord in the center of the metal frame, but to Su Li¡¯s inexperienced eyes, it seemed fully expended. ¡°It would tell us if the trials are operated by the same formation.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but we can¡¯t just grab them for study.¡± Elder Hu said. ¡°If those tags are granted as trial rewards, we¡¯ll have some of our own within the day. And I¡¯m still not convinced it¡¯s that simple. Imagine you were designing a formation of this scale. Would you really store information about who has access to what functions of a formation somewhere outside the formation¡¯s control, where an attacker could modify it?¡±

    ¡°True, it¡¯s not how I would design such a formation, but there are ways of ensuring that such qi structures are unmodified.¡±

    ¡°A cipher of some sort? Hiding other information within the message, such that even small edits would disrupt the integrity of it?¡±

    Elder Cai frowned, then smiled.

    ¡°Yes, that is one such method. Though I would favor simply using a form of qi so specific and uncommon that only the originating formation would be able to shape it without destroying it. If one were to write their permissions in qi of the aspect of ¡®a wild wind across a mundane labor¡¯ or ¡®the desolate solitude of a drunkard¡¯s early morning¡¯ most potential trespassers would have no hope modifying the formation¡¯s work. Even experts of surpassing cultivation would be forced to treat such qi structures like soap bubbles, to be transferred from surface to surface, rather than modified.¡±

    Her master made the very particular face that she had come to associate with her giving an answer that was correct, but that he disliked for some reason he would not explain to her. Su Li felt the thread of the conversation slipping away from her. She understood that they were talking about the great central formation, but whatever plan the two had, she lacked the breadth of knowledge to grasp the specifics of it.

    ¡°That feels inelegant to me.¡± He said slowly. ¡°To pin all such a work¡¯s security on the hope an attacker cannot manipulate a particular sort of qi. Would it not be more secure for a formation to remember the cultivation bases it encounters, and store within its own memory information about the permissions that should be granted to their owners?¡±

    ¡°I see your meaning, but it is a novice¡¯s perspective. Men have been inventing disguise techniques for as long as they have been cultivating. If one is willing to destructively harvest their subject, it is possible to wear another cultivator¡¯s qi like an outer skin, the most perfect of disguises. Better to pin all your hopes on an obscure mastery than to use an approach that fails before any sufficiently advanced infiltrator. The most elegant solution is the one that works.¡±

    ¡°I will concede before your expertise. My understanding of formations is rather limited to where to cut them to optimal effect. However, I feel your description of the best practices of the art suggests that modern formation masters are missing many possibilities.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Elder Cai barked. ¡°You have no idea! It¡¯s shocking how stagnant the orthodox school of formation design is. The Black Sun and the Scholar¡¯s Lair have far more cleverly designed defenses than the rudimentary approaches to access control we¡¯ve discussed thus far. Indeed it¡¯s precisely the lack of evidence of any more advanced form of authentication that makes me suspect that we¡¯re dealing with a formation created by an immortal with a limited understanding of formations as an art! Now, come take a look at this, the next set of spectrometry results are in. If we can identify the composition of the subset of flows that¡­¡±

    Elder Cai¡¯s words began to blend into each other to Su Li¡¯s ears. Elder Hu and Fang Xiao nodded along studiously, and offered the occasional question. But for her, it sounded like a poetry recital occasionally interspersed with a series of seemingly unrelated numbers that Elder Cai seemed to think were of paramount importance. She supposed they were, but she had not the slightest idea what phrases like spectrometry, steganography, and integral summation meant.

    Instead, her attention returned to the swirling power around her. How could it feel so similar to the light of the moon, and yet so different? Slowly, tentatively, she began cycling her cultivation method. If the Glass Flowers were cultivating here, surely it couldn¡¯t be too dangerous? To her surprise, the strange qi yielded easily to her, filling her meridians with pure lunar light.

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    Normally, cultivating felt like being a bucket awaiting rain. A thing waiting to be filled, grasping at droplets. Here, she felt like a stone in a river. Submerged, but somehow not drowning.

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing!¡± Elder Cai yelled, thunder rumbling in the wake of her voice.

    Su Li jumped, her eyes popping open.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯ve done, idiot girl! How are we supposed to get accurate readings if you¡¯re muddying the flows of the formation with your own cultivation!¡±

    ¡°Elder Cai.¡± Fang Xiao cut in quietly. ¡°Disciple Su is-¡±

    Su Li¡¯s throat felt tight. She wanted to say something, to explain herself, but she couldn¡¯t find the words. She hadn¡¯t known.

    Elder Cai turned away from her in disgust. As she did, her hand rose.

    Su Li didn¡¯t see the bolt until after it had landed.

    Her master¡¯s jaw clenched, as the stray bolt of lightning lashed against his hand. Wisps of steam rose from reddened fingers.

    ¡°Disciple Su, if you wish to cultivate in the hall, please find a spot far enough away from us to avoid influencing Elder Cai¡¯s measurements.¡± Her master said in the same tone her mother had used when the twins fought over the kite. ¡°Elder Cai, we can simply take the measurements anew.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s heart beat faster. She wished she could be as calm as her master was. Her body felt like a traitor, threatening to cry when she commanded it to speak.

    Elder Cai shot her another venomous look, and opened her mouth to speak.

    ¡°You had mentioned, showing me how the central stone is purged.¡± Elder Hu smoothly continued, cutting her off.

    Elder Cai stared at him.

    ¡°She ruined half an hour of measurements. Can¡¯t trust the numbers now. Wasted reagents.¡±

    ¡°Elder Cai.¡± Her master said, a dangerous undertone in his voice. ¡°Please do not make me repeat myself. We will take the measurements anew.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± She snapped. Fang Xiao visibly relaxed, as Elder Cai turned back to her machine.

    Su Li retreated. Idiot. She hadn¡¯t thought before she acted. She¡¯d made yet more trouble for her master, and he hadn¡¯t even spoken of punishment. She didn¡¯t know if she would feel better if he did, than if he told her it was an honest mistake. Fang Xiao didn¡¯t need to be told not to cultivate next to whatever that metal frame was.

    She wanted to find a corner and sit, but she refused to give in to the urge. Three elders and half a dozen inner disciples had been mobilized to give the sect this opportunity; she couldn¡¯t waste a moment of it. Other disciples had spoken of attempting the trials.

    It was easy enough to find where her fellow disciples clustered, every black robe stood out like a chicken among cranes in the uniform silver light of the hall. She followed a more senior outer disciple she recognized down a side hall until she reached a full crowd of Pathless Night disciples.

    To her relief, she saw Meng Daiyu at its head. There would be no infighting in her presence, nor any danger from the smaller crowd of Glass Flowers that had gathered in the same chamber. Su Li had never spoken to their sect¡¯s sole core disciple. Had never even really thought about it, for all that they lived in the same place, she seemed even more distant than the elders. She wondered how Meng Daiyu had come to occupy that title. There were rumors that she was the sect master¡¯s biological daughter, but Su Li didn¡¯t put much stock in them. She couldn¡¯t even imagine what sort of woman could draw the attention of a man as cold and distant as the night sky. No, she thought it far more likely Meng Daiyu was simply a prodigy among prodigies who had taken her master¡¯s name.

    ¡°I see the rumors about your sect¡¯s desperation are not unfounded.¡± One Glass Flower said loudly. ¡°Our roster is not so strained that we brought initiates to a proving ground.¡±

    Su Li quietly joined the tail end of the crowd of black robes, as the two groups jeered at each other.

    ¡°Initiate? Could it be that our fellow daoist is impaired? Her spiritual sense damaged in a tragic accident?¡± One of Su Li''s fellow disciples replied. ¡°The supposed initiate she is referring to has a cultivation fit to match her own.¡±

    Su Li spied the short black haired figure that could only be Geng Ru at the front of the crowd. A poor tactic, taking issue with him. She hated the strange and violent child, but he had as much right to be here as any of them.

    ¡°Bold words, from a man and a sect that have not a single trial victory to their name. Please, step forward, show us what you supposed demons are made of.¡±

    ¡°Do none of you have anything better to do than talk?¡± Meng Daiyu asked. ¡°I¡¯d thought that the chattering monkeys of the court were a mortal phenomena, but I see the breed is thriving among cultivators as well.¡±

    There was silence for a time, Meng Daiyu¡¯s sheer power commanding respect even among the Glass Flowers. Core Formation disciples were rare as qilins in lesser lands like the Qin Empire.

    Su Li wormed her way forward through the crowd, setting eyes upon this room¡¯s trials.

    There were three doors upon the far wall, a beautiful scene painted on each one. A moment later, Su Li realized they weren¡¯t doors at all. Some inhuman hand had painted upon empty air. On the left, a woman knelt before a funeral bier, praying alone. To the right, the same woman stood alone before a small army, clutching something to her chest as she fled. In the center, she stood beneath a full moon so real Su Li could have reached out and touched it. Each work was titled. From left to right, they were the Lonely Vigil, the Company of Moonlight, and the Faith of Thieves.

    Suddenly, Meng Daiyu stepped forward. The image of the Lonely Vigil rippled as she touched it, then faded from sight, leaving only the light-bleached stone of the wall.

    ¡°Are you going to try one?¡± A disciple to Su Li¡¯s left whispered.

    ¡°Am I going to rush in first instead of waiting to hear what exactly the challenge is? No.¡± His friend replied.

    There was a stir from the front, as Geng Ru stepped forward.

    ¡°Please, feel free to attempt the Faith of Thieves young one. I look forward to seeing your progress.¡± The first Glass Flower to speak said.

    ¡°Ah, I take it all of yours to attempt it died then? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll let you know what the task and rewards are.¡± The monster with the face of a child replied.

    Her side of the room resounded with laughter. Even Su Li found herself smiling, despite what Geng Ru had done to Deng Xue. What he had done to her, under the guise of a friendly sparring match. It had been an unwelcome reminder, just how cold the Glass Flowers were to their fellow daoists. They were tolerated here, by virtue of the strength of their elders, but even less than an hour in righteous indignation and snide commentary followed them everywhere. It was nice to see it turned back in the smug bitch¡¯s faces.

    Su Li had wanted to join them once. Before she realized the sect¡¯s entry fee was nearly a thousand gold coins worth of spirit stones, if one did not have a sponsor. It was just one of so many doors that had been shut in her face, before she¡¯d found her way to the Pathless Night. Power ran the world, but money greased its wheels.

    Before the laughter had even died down, Geng Ru stepped forward and erased the second door. There was a tension in the air now, as they waited to see who else would step forward. There were surely other trials in other rooms. But their sect had chosen two of these, there was an expectation that they would also attempt the third.

    Her father had taken the family to see a play once. She¡¯d been young then, and a shy child. It¡¯d struck her, just how bold all the actors were. How sure their every step, how heroic their bearing. By their brazen faith, red silk became blood; and lies were transformed into high drama.

    She felt like all the other cultivators here were actors in a play, who knew their lines by heart. They all leapt to their places, even the ones whose place was the laughing audience.

    Elder Hu had wanted trial victors. Or, Elder Cai had. But Elder Hu thought her work was important. She was so very tired of drifting, of never feeling like she belonged in her own life. An unwelcome note in another¡¯s song.

    The Company of Moonlight. It might as well have been made for her. She stared up at the painted moon, alabaster luminance atop inky darkness. She¡¯d wandered for years, with no company save the lonely moon; searching for a place she could exist without guilt.

    If this test wasn¡¯t suitable for her, then which would be? If not now, then when?

    Su Li stepped forward, into the light, before the audience could begin their lines again.

 Chapter 40 - Memories Of Light

    The sun was already high when Su Li¡¯s bleary eyes cracked open. No matter what twists and turns her life took, it seemed fate was certain that she would never be a morning person. Still, a smile crept to her lips unbidden. They¡¯d had much to celebrate last night. Granny Lao had passed her eightieth winter in good health. The Narrow Street Gang had added three blocks to their territory in the last few weeks, after the Four Seas Union had run afoul of one of the beggar sects and gotten their teeth kicked in. The mendicant cultivators might not look like much, but their true disciples were almost as powerful as those of the real sects. As the Four Seas Union had discovered, when they¡¯d tried to throw their weight around.

    And Su Li had reached the sixth stage of qi condensation. A prodigy among rats. Even Qi Guowei had only reached the third rank of qi condensation, and he¡¯d been an enforcer for Granny Lao since before Su Li had been born, back when they¡¯d been the Green Shoots Gang. It was so strange, seeing grown and seasoned men treating her with such respect, as if she were a real cultivator instead of a street rat like them. With so much good news to celebrate, they¡¯d all laughed the night away drinking and singing. Even after the Rosewood Alley¡¯s normal closing time, Granny Lao had kept the lanterns lit and the wine flowing. Really, from a certain perspective, Su Li was waking early by rising at noon.

    She stretched out in her bed like a sunbathing cat, letting out a great moan of satisfaction. Mornings might be the worst time of day, but having her own room with a working lock was such a luxury she never thought she¡¯d stop appreciating it. Her duties didn¡¯t really begin until nightfall anyway, she could afford to enjoy the morning.

    Eventually, she rose and dressed. Even in moments like these, the perfect tranquility of a morning without obligation, there was a shadow that hung over her heart. Kang Guo, wherever he lived. She wondered if he ever thought about her father. One day, she would leave Narrow Street behind. Join the army perhaps, or one of the true sects. She couldn¡¯t become who she needed to be here, it was ever fated to only be a stepping stone. She¡¯d never expected to find such love and peace on the streets of Xianyang, in the company of thugs and thieves and whores. It couldn¡¯t last forever, but the flower was no less precious for its inevitable fall.

    The dormitory was empty, when she left her room, but the smell of Auntie Shi¡¯s cooking filled the halls. Shi Ping was at the stove this morning, frying up buckwheat crepes.

    ¡°Sister Su!¡± He exclaimed boisterously. ¡°Please, have a crepe!¡±

    Buckwheat crepes had never been her favorite food, especially with only salt and onion for taste. She¡¯d planned to pick up dumplings down the road to soak up her steadily growing hangover with grease. It was still strange to her to have pockets so flush with silver that she could afford such a luxury as meat for breakfast.

    But Shi Ping¡¯s pock-marked face was so earnest as he held the plate out to her. And free food was free food.

    ¡°Thank you, Brother Shi.¡± She said quietly, accepting the plate. Hopefully Shi Ping would pick up the implication, and match her volume. It was too early for such enthusiasm. ¡°Please give your aunt my thanks as well.¡±

    ¡°Of course!  Can¡¯t let our little dragon go hungry! You¡¯ve done so much for us, and father says your girls are the best boarders he¡¯s ever had!¡±

    The little dragon. That was what they all called her now. Because everyone who lived in the shadow of Qin Longwei aspired to such a title. It was said that two dragons could not live beneath the same sky, but these streets hosted a thousand men and women who claimed the name. She didn''t love the name, but nobody had ever really asked her before it caught on.

    She didn¡¯t care, really. But she would do what she had to to protect her friends and family. And with the strength of her cultivation, that sometimes included lifting large men over her head and bodily throwing them out the doors of the Rosewood Alley. Such a sight tended to sober up fools very quickly.

    She ate fast. She¡¯d heard so many stories about how cultivators didn¡¯t need to eat, but these days it seemed like her cultivation made her more hungry, not less.

    ¡°Is it good?¡± Shi Ping asked.

    She smiled at the young man, younger even than her. ¡°It¡¯s very filling. Just the thing after such a long night.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pleased to hear it. My mother always says I have too heavy a hand with the salt.¡± Shi Ping said, staring studiously at the greased iron of the stove. ¡°Would you like to join us for dinner as well? My mother says she¡¯s going to make plum buns, your favorite.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve already shown me too much kindness. I¡¯ll be eating at the Alley tonight anyway.¡± Su Li demurred. Auntie Shi could be a little overbearing at times, and she didn¡¯t want to give the woman any more excuses to talk about how she should settle down with little Ping. The thugs and craftsmen of the neighborhood might speak softly around Su Li now, but Auntie Shi was made of considerably tougher stuff. ¡°Please give Auntie Shi my thanks for her consideration.¡±

    Su Li¡¯s nose crinkled as she stepped out the door onto Narrow Street proper. She¡¯d never gotten used to that, the scents of the city were always foul in a way the countryside never got.

    A dozen voices called out greetings as she made her way down the lane. The emperor''s ministers had laid down the streets of Xianyang in a perfect grid, but the lives of its people inevitably spilled out onto the road. Narrow street was paved as wide as its peers, it was the sheer volume of commerce it did that so constricted the space available for walking.

    Clotheslines hanging above dappled the gray pavement in a hundred different shades of color as boisterous voices hawked dumplings and wooden tops and a thousand more specialized goods. Su Li dodged around a dozen swinging shoulders and protruding woks as she made her way through the madhouse, but she didn¡¯t worry at all for her purse. No thief would be foolish enough to ply their trade on Narrow Street¡¯s residents, let alone her. Granny Lao¡¯s enforcers leaned against the corners of every block, offering her polite nods as she made her rounds. Every one bore a thin blue scarf around their upper arm, a signal of their allegiance. They¡¯d been good to this little corner of Xianyang, bringing the order his majesty¡¯s guards couldn¡¯t be bothered to. They controlled a full quarter of the Grey Earth Ward now. One day in the distant future, the people here might call it Narrow Street Ward, or perhaps the Rosewood Ward.

    Su Li smiled at the thought. What Granny Lao had built deserved remembrance.

    Eventually she made her way out of Narrow Street itself into their new territories, blocks along the fourth and fifth lanes. There were far fewer blue scarves out here, far more unaffiliated thugs and thieves hanging around, watching to see how the wind would blow.

    ¡°How dare you extort me sir!¡± A man shouted. ¡°This is not acceptable behavior!¡±

    Su Li suppressed a sigh. She could see the broad shoulders of Qi Guowei in the distance, towering over old man Chang. Chang was old enough to be a grandfather, why did he have such trouble understanding how the world worked?

    ¡°What am I paying you for, if not to catch thieves!¡± Chang howled. ¡°They robbed me in broad daylight! Ten chi of good linen broadcloth! A whole box of needles!¡±

    ¡°You were not paying us when you were robbed.¡± Qi Guowei replied calmly.

    ¡°They steal from me, you steal from me, what is an honest businessman supposed to do in times like these!¡± The man wailed dramatically. ¡°At least the army does their duty! I can¡¯t say the same for the magistrate¡¯s men, let alone you thugs!¡±

    ¡°You were not paying us when you were robbed.¡± Qi Guowei repeated in the same even tone. ¡°That is not how insurance works.¡±

    Su Li pushed her way through the crowd of gawkers.

    ¡°Come now, brother Qi. Surely we can make an exception for the honorable shopkeeper Chang?¡± Su Li said.

    Qi Guowei turned to meet her eyes, and rolled his own.

    ¡°Yes, yes!¡± Chang babbled, seizing the lifeline thrown to him. ¡°The little dragon is both wise and kind.¡±

    ¡°Your poor planning is not our problem, mister Chang. We are a neighborhood association, not a charity.¡± Qi Guowei rumbled.

    ¡°Surely an exception can be made? I promise to remain in good standing in the future!¡±

    ¡°Exceptional circumstances call for exceptional actions.¡± Su Li interjected, before her partner could decline again. ¡°If shopkeeper Chang did not pay in advance, then he can pay in commission on the recovered goods.¡±

    Shopkeeper Chang paled a little, but to his credit he did not balk. Su Li felt bad for him, but he¡¯d made his bed when he tried to cut coppers. All that remained was the talk of percentages and shares.

    Five minutes later, she walked away, side by side with Qin Guowei, shaded from the noonday sun by his great bulk. She liked working with the big man, his stature made up for her unimposing figure. And she was pretty sure he appreciated having her to talk for him. He didn¡¯t seem to like talking very much.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t need to do that.¡± He grumbled. ¡°That man takes advantage of our kindness.¡±

    ¡°Returning half his cloth is more than worth the goodwill it will buy among the rest of the neighborhood. We need to drive out those fools anyway.¡± She replied. ¡°Granny Lao always says never let a good deed go unwitnessed.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The two of them continued their rounds together, before stopping at a teahouse. Qi Guowei was good company, but a quiet man.

    She almost missed his voice, when he broke the silence.

    ¡°They like you, you know?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The people. The new ones. The old ones too, I guess. But you know that.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°They like you, little dragon. You¡­¡± The man trailed off, his urge to speak seemingly spent.

    ¡°I?¡± She prompted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. They like you. You don¡¯t treat them like they¡¯re less.¡±

    She didn¡¯t know what to say to that. It was true. But Qi Guowei didn''t treat them like they were less either.

    As the sun set, they slowly made their way towards the Rosewood Alley.

    Su Li had mixed feelings about the Rosewood Alley. She¡­ She¡¯d never felt comfortable with prostitution. It didn''t happen, in Hongzhou. And the way so many men acted around prostitutes was even worse than the idea itself. The space and the alcohol had a magic to them that reduced so many outwardly moral men into wild beasts. But Granny Lao had never pushed her to join the ranks of her girls, even before her talents at cultivation had manifested themselves.

    And the girls had been so kind to her. No matter how awkward and rude she had been to them, when she¡¯d first stumbled into Grey Earth Ward. She still cringed, when she thought about some of the things she¡¯d said to Cui Mingxia about her choice of profession in those early days.

    She might not like what the girls did for a living. But she would crush anyone who tried to hurt them.

    The brothel was quiet when they arrived, with half an hour yet before they opened the doors to the public.

    ¡°Little Su!¡± Cui Mingxia exclaimed happily. "Our prince on a white horse has returned!"

    Su Li sighed. "Hello, sister Mingxia."

    ¡°So dour! You¡¯re not injured are you?¡±

    Qi Guowei grunted a greeting, before trundling off behind the bar to help with the prep work, happy to be ignored.

    ¡°I don¡¯t actually fight every day Mingxia. Sometimes I go weeks without needing to throw a single punch." Su Li repeated for what felt like the thousandth time.

    ¡°I¡¯m your big sister, it¡¯s my sisterly duty to fuss over you. What if you bruised your knuckles on some mean thug¡¯s face? Who else would soothe your pain with a gentle touch?¡±

    Su Li snorted. Cui Mingxia had never once bandaged her wounds. She got faint at the sight of blood.

    "As much as I appreciate your concern, it''s my job to worry over your safety, not the other way around."

    "What need have we to fear with you and Qi Guowei around? Who would dare make trouble for the big bear and the little dragon?" Cui Mingxia smiled cheekily.

    ¡°If any men get too rowdy, I''m sure sister Su will happily introduce them to sister window.¡± Another girl chimed in.

    ¡°Better be careful sister Su, some men like that sort of thing.¡±

    "Don''t just make things up to scare our little dragon."

    "No, it''s true! I hear that sometimes, Shopkeeper Chang''s wife will hit him for wasting money, then afterwards the most vigorous sorts of noises will-"

    "No! No! I do not need to hear this!" Su Li exclaimed. Cheeks reddening, she beat a quick retreat, joining Qi Guowei behind the bar. There were wine cups to polish.

    Laughter resounded in her wake, the sound in it''s own way as proud as a triumphant dragon.

    The night began much as any other. Groups of men trickled in, and coin trickled out from their purses. They drank and sung and boasted shamelessly, then paid for private rooms and company to join them, drifting out of the great common room.

    Su Li sat in the corner, kept company by Qi Guowei, and the pair of thick oaken clubs resting on the table in front of them. It was boring work, sitting silently and occasionally glaring at men who looked like they were considering taking liberties they had not paid for, but it was far better than needing to get up out of her chair.

    It was well into the later hours of the evening, when the three men arrived.

    Cui Mingxia was the first to greet them, hurrying over to explain the rules and prices of the house to the men wearing robes worth near as much as the Alley took in in a night. Su Li''s hand tightened around her cudgel, she could feel them from here, they were making no effort to veil themselves. One stronger than her, two slightly weaker, all of them hovering near the midpoint of Qi Condensation. Her heart beat faster.

    ¡°My brothers will choose who they wish, and pay them what they deserve.¡± Their leader spoke over Cui Mingxia.

    ¡°Really, they should be paying us, it''s more honor than they deserve to lie with a cultivator.¡± His follower added.

    A hush fell over the alley, as those words echoed out.

    ¡°No woman will be complaining after my spear pierces her heaven!¡± The third man exclaimed gaily.

    The terrible joke echoed all the more loudly in the tense silence. Su Li''s other fist tightened beneath the table. Heaven was cruel and the Buddha silent, but despite herself, Su Li prayed to anyone who would listen. Please let them be peaceful.

    ¡°That was bad Min Guo. Truly atrocious. Just for that you''re paying for everyone''s drinks tonight." The man in the lead replied.

    ¡°Bah! You¡¯ve no appreciation for true art Senior Brother Zhang! The best bawdy jokes are the worst bawdy jokes!¡±

    ¡°Aping the structure of the founder¡¯s wisdom does not mean the words you''re saying are not drivel.¡±

    ¡°Ah, dismissing my argument without considering its merits. I thought better of you senior brother. We call them dirty jokes after all, surely the finest among them are then those that tarnish the most honored ideals?¡±

    ¡°Rank sophistry, Min Guo. You just enjoy being crude.¡±

    ¡°Two things can be true at once.¡± Min Guo replied, slowly making his way to the bar.

    His fist slammed down on the wood, and silver spilled out. From her distant seat, Su Li thought she saw the glimmer of gold amid the small pile.

    "Keep the wine flowing, the best you have. I''ll not have my brothers go thirsty."

    Su Li¡¯s fingers slowly relaxed their death-grip around her cudgel. Cultivators, real cultivators, could be cruel. But they could be generous too.

    Su Li watched impassively as the disciples of the Heaven-Piercing Spear partied like mortal men. Their boasts were more outlandish, their gossip more interesting. Despite herself, she caught her ears straining to hear the tales of disciples distinguishing themselves in the war. As the three men steadily drunk enough wine to kill an ox and began dipping in and out of private rooms, Su Li tried to ignore them as much as she could.

    It became harder, as the night wore on. Their regular began filtering out at the appropriate hours, but the cultivators remained planted in their chairs.

    The typical hour of the Rosewood Alley''s closing came and went without fanfare. Su Li met Cui Mingxia''s eye as she was pouring her another round, but received a quick shake of the head in response.

    The moon was high when there came a quiet knock at the door. They''d already closed it for custom to the evening, but their lights would still be visible from the street. Had one of the magistrates men been sent to shut them down? For the first time since joining Granny Lao''s gang, Su Li found herself hoping for them to be caught and fined. It would be the perfect excuse to eject the cultivators without insult.

    One of the girls answered the door, and after a whispered conversation let the man in. Su Li''s eyebrow rose as she saw none other than Shi Ping making his way towards the backrooms. She''d had no idea the boy was involved in that side of their business.

    Then he passed too close to the cultivator''s table, and everything went to shit.

    Viper-fast, the Young Master''s hand darted out, catching Shi Ping by the wrist. Su Li was on her feet in an instant, as were half a dozen young men around the common room. Young Master Zhang pulled the boy close, raising Shi Ping''s tightly closed fist for all to see.

    "You, boy. What are you carrying."

    "N-Nothing, honored cultivator sir. Just a delivery for the owner."

    "How shameless." The Young Master said, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Would you care to revise your statement?"

    Shi Ping whimpered, as the cultivator squeezed his wrist, cracking his hand open.

    The pungent tang of cedar and ginger spread filtered through the room.

    "Damn it all." Qin Guowei muttered quietly. "Idiot boy."

    Young Master Zhang took a deep breath, then exhaled with a satisfied sigh. Slowly turning to face the entire room in turn, he raised his voice like an auctioneer extolling the virtues of his goods.

    "That, is an Enduring Evergreen Pill. It''s two primary ingredients are Hundred Year Ginseng, and the first spring leaves of an Ironwood Tree. It''s most common refining method requires a Foundation Establishment cultivator with a relatively pure affinity for yang or wood. It''s effect is to gently stimulate the healing factors of the consumer. It is most often used to either recover following a grave injury or failed bodily cultivation breakthrough, or to increase the lifespan of a cultivator beneath the Core Formation realm by a number of years. It''s worth is roughly one hundred lesser spirit stones."

    Smug as a cat with a crippled bird before it, Young Master Zhang turned to look Shi Ping in the eye.

    "Why do you have it?"

    "I-It-" Shi Ping stammered.

    "Answer the young master''s question." Ming Guo called out, the earlier humor in his voice replaced with a cold edge. "He was kind enough to explain to you what you had after all."

    "A man gave it to me. A beggar. I was getting ready to dispose of the day''s leftovers, and he asked for them. I didn''t see any harm. After he ate, he gave the pill. He said it was for Granny Lao. An apology, for the chaos, he said."

    Su Li''s stomach lurched. A lifespan pill from one of the mendicant sects? She could all but hear Granny Lao whispering in her ear ''Disaster lurks in unexpected fortune'', it was practically the old woman''s favorite saying. She doubted it was stolen, the mendicants had their own sort of honor, they wouldn''t give such a poisoned gift.

    "Really? That''s the best you can do? A beggar gave you a peerless pill in exchange for some scraps? I''d supposed you''d have us believe he was a hidden master in disguise." Ming Guo said. "This is the real world boy, there are no peerless masters among beggars."

    "Hand it over." Young Master Zhang commanded. "In all Xianyang, there''s only one alchemist who makes those pills. My martial uncle, Elder Ruan. If you tell the truth and surrender your ill-gotten gains, I will see that you are not punished for your part in the matter."

    She had to do something.

    "Send a runner for the magistrate." She hissed to Qin Guowei. Would he even side with them? Certainly, he wouldn''t give the sect the pill, not unless it really was proved stolen. But at the very least he would ensure there was no lives lost over this, assuming Shi Ping was telling the truth. He certainly didn''t steal the pill himself.

    The big man obeyed, but his movements drew attention.

    "What do you think you''re doing?" The third cultivator demanded, rising.

    "This is a matter for his majesty''s magistrate." Su Li said with a confidence she did not feel. "If Shi Ping''s story is true, surely there were witnesses."

    "The Heaven-Piercing Spear is more than capable of investigating crimes against it."

    "Has your honored uncle reported such a theft?" She asked.

    The young master ignored her.

    "Back up, girl. This doesn''t concern you." The third cultivator said, stepping forward.

    "Are the disciples of the Heaven-Piercing Spear no better than common highwaymen? Shi Ping clearly did not steal that pill from a Foundation Establishment cultivator." It wasn''t the right thing to say, but it spilled out of her mouth before she realized it.

    "You impugn our honor while your fellow carries obviously stolen goods? How bold." The young master''s voice didn''t sound angry, but Su Li''s skin prickled all the same.

    Qin Guowei stepped forward by her side, the runner dispatched.

    "Give it to me."

    The young master struck Shi Ping with his other hand, and Su Li saw red dripping down the side of his face.

    Qi flooded Su Li''s body as she moved faster than thought, weaving beneath the arms of the third cultivator. She grabbed as Shi Ping before the young master could strike again, and kicked.

    Cries rang out, as a brilliant silver flash blinded the room. Shi Ping''s wrist was a bloody mess, where she''d torn him from the young master''s grip.

    The pill worth more than gold than most of the people in this room would ever see in one place sat on the floor. Almost invisible, dark green against brown, likely now tainted ever so slightly with the tacky remnants of long spilled wine.

    For a long moment, nobody moved for it. She looked up at Young Master Zhang. She could see the outline of her slipper on his pristine robes, a dusty brown stain.

    The young master smiled.

    "I was wondering why they had a slip of a girl playing at security. What a find for a gang of rats. Come, let your senior brother teach you how real cultivators greet each other."

    The stillness shattered, as the common room of the brothel descended into madness.

 Chapter 41 - Alone

    In the moment when Su Li kicked the young master, there were perhaps forty five people in the common room of the Rosewood Alley. Five Qi Condensation cultivators. Fifteen mortal men, a roughly even split between Granny Lao''s muscle, the few male members of the house''s staff, and a few customers too brave or foolish to leave after the cultivators had shown up. Twenty women, all of whom worked for the establishment in some fashion.

    It should have been simple. Eight of Granny Lao''s against the Heaven-Piercing Spear''s three disciples. Thirty odd bystanders.

    It wasn''t.

    Two men dived immediately for the pill. The third cultivator waded into the struggle, lifting one of the men by the belt. One of the girls jumped on his back, shouting.

    The cultivator''s neck snapped backwards, and she collapsed bonelessly, blood pouring from her nose. How dare he!

    "Bastard!"

    Two more men rushed the third cultivator, the pill disappearing in a storm of flailing limbs.

    "Rude as well as bold, to start a fight and then look away from your opponent."

    Su Li ducked, as a shadow passed over her. The flying man landed on an empty table behind her, the delicate furniture collapsing beneath his weight. She winced as a distant part of her mind began tallying up how much they would spend in medicine and repairs after this brawl.

    I am Zhang Baihu, Inner Disciple of the Heaven-Piercing Spear Sect." The young master proclaimed loudly. "Surrender the thief, that he might face punishment!"

    "Don''t kill anyone!" Min Guo shouted, shoving a table. A pair of men on the far side of it doubled over, the wind knocked out of them.

    Qi Guowei charged at him, grabbing the cultivator from behind and starting to squeeze.

    "Shut up and stop worrying Brother Min." The young master said. "They started this. It is only right that I finish it."

    Su Li shoved Shi Ping back.

    "Run!" She shouted. They would need him, when the magistrate arrived, she could only hope he knew that.

    Su Li''s awareness narrowed, as Zhang''s still sheathed saber whistled through the air. She parried with her club, hissing as the sheath''s tip caught her finger on the way out.

    The young master rained down blows upon her. She was fast enough to catch them, strong enough to block them, but a club was no weapon for a duel. She might be the young master''s equal in cultivation, but his arms and weapon both far exceeded her reach. Instead she gave ground, forcing him to follow.

    She had no techniques to leverage without a sword, and she couldn''t kill a disciple of a real sect anyway. Even if he was merely bloodied, the magistrate might take his side on principle. There was nothing to do but buy time, withstand his fury.

    "Pathetic." He said, throwing out a high slash she ducked under. Her responding thrust was aborted long before it got close, as his returning saber moved into a position to punish. "Have you already realized you have no chance? I thought this would be a pleasant diversion. Instead, you bore me."

    She caught an overhead chop with a two handed block. Her stomach dropped as her club cracked, unable to withstand the punishment it was being subjected to.

    She dropped it and rolled back over her shoulder to avoid the second chop, coming up in a desperate scramble. Zhang''s sword whistled by her ear, right at her heels. She needed distance, time.

    She shoved her way through the back door, escaping out into the alley.

    "Stop running girl."

    Well, she obviously wasn''t going to do that, some irreverent part of Su Li thought. She poured qi into her limbs, trying to eke out a fraction more speed. Even if she found a blade, she couldn''t hurt the young master. There was nothing to do but dodge, dodge everything he threw at her.

    Distance protected her from the first two blows, but the young master''s legs were longer. He closed the distance between them quickly. Su Li burned qi furiously, spinning around the line of a thrust, pushing off her leg to quickly jerk to the side.

    The sword missed again.

    She could see a trail through the shadows, dapples of moonlight marking a winding path. She felt the sword at her back, like a ghostly wind. Felt it the way he had taught her to. She saw her father in her mind''s eye. Had he taught her to do that?

    She blinked, forcing her head back to the fight. The flight, really.

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    She had felt a taste of it in her duel with Geng Ru of the Four Seas Union, a strange state of grace where she felt she was not moving her qi, but being moved by it. Desperate, she followed that feeling.

    "Stop dodging!" The young master shouted, irritation creeping into his voice. She held onto that, it felt like a tiny victory.

    She kept dodging, dancing an inch ahead of disaster, kept afloat by the moonlight.

    Time melted away as she surrendered all of her attention to following that thread. She didn''t know how long she danced, or where she was headed. All she knew is that so long as her steps were perfect, she was Untouchable.

    When time and memory returned, noise surrounded her. She saw men in chainmail, bearing spears. The ward magistrate, atop a horse. Young Master Zhang was shouting, but her head swam and the words sounded like the cries of animals. His sword was back at his side. She saw Shi Ping, cradling his broken wrist as he half-hid behind Qi Guowei''s great bulk.

    She opened her mouth to speak. They had to explain.

    What remained of her qi flickered violently. She hadn''t realized how much of it she''d used. The moon overhead seemed impossibly large. She reached out to touch it, but it was too far away.

    The world fell away, as Su Li passed out.

    <hr>

    Su Li staggered as the influx of memories hit her. For a moment she felt like she was dying, shedding a lifetime of memories. Then she remembered them for the illusion that they were, and they became as weightless as dreams.

    But she still felt hollow inside, and not just from the persistent ache of her near empty channels.

    "Another one!"

    "Looks like Elder Hu''s disciple isn''t just a charity case."

    "Damn, there goes my wager. The Young Mistress certainly isn''t failing her own trial."

    Qi slowly seeped into her bone-dry channels without any action Su Li''s part, easing half the ache. Was that her reward? The blessing the elders had discussed? She felt a foreign thing touching her qi, slowly seeping liquid moonlight into her channels, where it rapidly dispersed. It felt half like a dantian, and half like a pill in the process of being consumed, a mass of burning cold that she couldn''t quite localize.

    "What was it like?"

    "What was the challenge?"

    "The next attempt is mine!"

    A disciple pushed past her, vanishing into the trial.

    She opened her mouth to say something, but words failed her. She should have warned him. But about what?

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad. I just had to escape from a hundred mortals.¡± She heard Geng Ru''s voice. ¡°Did you truly lose some of your sisters to such a simple test?¡±

    "How dare you!"

    "It seems even the minimum of decency is too much to expect from your kind."

    "Disciple Su! Did you hear me?"

    The sounds all jumbled together in Su Li''s ears. She tried to focus through the distraction, remember what she''d felt in the trial before it faded away. Untouchable.

    If she could reach that state again, use it without losing herself to it. It would be an incredible trump card, the kind of edge she''d spent years seeking.

    It slipped through her fingers. She knew it was real. Knew it was possible. But it was so very hard to remember how to do something you''d been taught in a dream.

    "Is she injured?"

    "Give the girl some space. She no doubt has better things to do than answer your inane questions."

    That was a nice thing for Sister Hao to say. She still scared Su Li a little. She''d watched when Hao Yue challenged for the rank of inner disciple three years ago. Her opponent hadn''t yielded quickly enough. Even Elder Su had been unable to put him back together afterwards, so his body had gone to the Sepulchre. She wondered what the corpse refiners had filled all the holes with.

    The disciples stepped back to give her space. Her head felt cloudy. She bit her tongue, before she said anything aloud she might regret.

    "Brother Geng, perhaps you ought to give your prize to one of your seniors for safekeeping, while you determine if it is suitable for you to consume." One disciple suggested.

    "An excellent idea brother." Geng Ru said, clutching a phial of steel-grey liquid. "I will deliver it to Elder Su at the first opportunity."

    "Of course." Titters of laughter punctuated the statement. It took Su Li a long moment to hear the joke.

    Extortion. It was funny because it was ineffective. Ill-advised. She laughed too. It came out stilted. Wrong.

    Several disciples stared at her.

    It wasn''t fair. How could a past that never was make her heart ache so much. She could barely remember the technique she''d touched, but there were holes in her heart for people she''d never known. People who perhaps never even were? She''d spent weeks in Xianyang, but she''d never met anyone like the friends she''d known in the trial. No kindly granny with eyes of steel, or boisterous sister with a heart of gold.

    She couldn''t remember Granny Lao''s face. She hadn''t appeared in person in the trial.

    Anger burned in her chest, but she didn''t know what she was angry at. She was so tired. She just wanted to curl up in a corner and stop existing for a while. To trust that that things would make sense again in the morning.

    The was a commotion to her right. She watched as Meng Daiyu emerged from her own trial.

    "Three for three. Perhaps the supposed challenges of these trials were merely your own failings." One of the Pathless Night''s disciples gloated.

    "Quiet." Meng Daiyu commanded. "It annoys me to hear you boast of a victory you had no part in."

    The chattering stopped. Meng Daiyu''s eyes passed over the crowd. Su Li shivered when their eyes met for a moment. Meng Daiyu would not have been shaken by something so small.

    "Present yourself to the elders." She ordered. "Inform them of what you encountered in your respective trials. They will decide what knowledge shall be shared."

    Su Li nodded, and started walking. Questions followed her but she ignored them all.

    Eyes followed her too. She saw so many different things in them. Envy. Curiosity. Ill-concealed venom. She''d seen all these flavors of interest and malice before, after Elder Hu had first agreed to teach her.

    "Come on, just tell us now!"

    "Paper can''t wrap fire. It''s all going to come out anyway, give us a head start."

    The outer sect was still harassing Meng Daiyu. A funny thought that. She forgot sometimes, that the young mistress was closer to her age than she was to an elder''s.

    "Mine was a test of patience and understanding." Meng Daiyu finally said, giving in. "It''s reward was knowledge of a technique. I do not recommend it. No amount of struggle will avail those who lack the temperament or comprehension for it."

    She hurried out of the chamber. She''d tell Elder Hu what happened, then she could rest.

    She''d passed the test. No, she''d done more than merely pass, she''d touched something profound. She''d had a stroke of fortune. Perhaps even a genuine moment of enlightenment. It was all she''d wanted for so very long. Elder Hu would be proud of her. She was one step closer to Kang Guo. Her father would be proud of her.

    But why did her heart hurt so much?

 Chapter 42 - Debrief

    I might have underestimated Elder Cai. Not her level of social acumen, I was pretty sure I was spot on about that.

    I''d just spent hours watching her order disciples about, demanding they fetch things, or perform techniques for her to measure. She''d pulled aside over dozen disciples over the course of six hours. Three of them she''d addressed by the name of their cultivation method. Two had been ''you there''. Five she''d called by name. Three of those names had been correct.

    Two of those disciples had politely demurred, as apparently they didn''t even study under Elder Cai.

    Each time, irritation had flashed across Elder Cai''s face, and she''d immediately moved on to the next candidate. I still wasn''t quite sure what to make of it, how she spewed out orders and then instantly moved on to the next command, if she felt the denial was for a valid reason. It probably said something about how she thought, but for the life of me I couldn''t quite see it.

    No, bizarre as her management habits were, they were in the ballpark of what I''d expected. That wasn''t what I''d underestimated.

    I¡¯d forgotten one very critical factor in selecting any potential coworker. Core formation cultivators didn¡¯t really need to sleep.

    ¡°Again.¡± Elder Cai intoned emotionlessly.

    The disciple standing across from me raised one palm before him, then drew his other hand back as if nocking an invisible arrow. I took a stance I''d seen a disciple use on the ship, jian held low at my side ready for an ascending chop.

    Two hundred and ninety seven, I counted in my head, as the disciple''s fingers twitched. A thin sliver of moonlight raced across the space between us, almost invisible against the ambient glow of the hall.

    That didn''t matter. It was intended to cut it''s target, and I wasn''t tracking it with my eyes.

    The white light sputtered like liquid as it met my blade.

    As the technique shattered, the pool of shadow around our feet rippled. An invisible force clamped down on the broken fragments of light, stabilizing them like gossamer crystals, then dragged them down into the darkness.

    Elder Cai called out a series of numbers interspersed with individual characters, which Fang Xiao dutifully transcribed.

    Elder Cai''s plan, as I understood it, was based on some form of spectral composition. She''d begun to lose me, once she''d start getting into the mathematics of it all. But I was a dab hand at spouting plausible comments that were neither nonsense nor directly betraying my ignorance. As far as I could tell, her goal was to artificially replicate whatever qi phenomena the formation used to identify authorized people. She''d gather up a variety of fragments of different types of qi and techniques, hold them in stasis somehow, and then combine them together to recreate an artificial password or authorization token.

    It seemed simple enough in principle, though I wasn''t actually that familiar with the concept of spectral composition generally. I knew it''s inverse, spectral decomposition could be used to identify chemical compounds via their emitted light when burned. I''d had the privilege of taking general chemistry two twice during my college years, so that little factoid had stuck around. I was pretty sure composition itself was more relevant to music and optics, where the spectra themselves could be created and manipulated. I could see how it might be applied to qi, if the stuff could be modeled as a series of overlapping waves. But I hadn''t the foggiest idea how to actually *do* it.

    That worked well, because apparently my job here was just to cut things. I didn''t need to know if we were trying to copy entire qi signatures or just the odd little qi-tumors the trials seemed to give out. That was all Elder Cai''s problem.

    Instead, I got to focus on my sword.

    "Smaller fragments, next time. Give me less force and more light." Cai called out. "Again."

    I hummed a nod of agreement, and felt for my own external qi. It was held close, solely focused on shrouding my sword. It barely took effort, the same attraction that allowed objects shrouding sword intent to be manipulated with sword qi also caused objects those same blades to draw qi towards themselves like magnets.

    Was sword qi a single thing? An individual wavelength of qi so to speak, or was it a composition of other kinds?

    More specifically, was my sword qi a single thing? I knew other people expressed weapon qi in different ways, like Wang Li''s strange matter-consuming light. Mind seemed purer, to my mind at least, but that didn''t actually mean it was. It could just be more ''cutting'' qi and less ''violence'' qi, so to speak.

    I set those more philosophical questions aside. I didn''t know how to give Elder Cai less force, but I could certainly do smaller fragments. I pushed more qi into the blade, feeling my intent shudder violently.

    Another arrow flashed towards me, and was cut down.

    This time, the light fell like snow, utterly shattered. It would have faded in an instant, if not for Elder Cai''s stabilizing influence.

    I wondered what her powers were. Lightning and darkness, gravity and stabilization. It didn''t all add up to one concept. Motion perhaps? Darkness could be part of stabilization, stilling light. Lightning could be the inverse of that, transferring energy. Gravity was the odd one out. Perhaps it was just force itself?

    More numbers were cast out, bound to ink. I breathed out, waiting, my world reduced to the anticipation of the next swing.

    "A few more of those. The variety is good but the quantity is too small to be useful. Bigger arrows too. You''re almost in foundation establishment boy, you should be stronger than that."

    Three hundred.

    Three hundred and one.

    Three hundred and two.

    At three hundred and twenty six, Elder Cai changed out the disciple. Instead of lunar arrows I cut down false images woven of stars and shadow.

    I had to use my eyes for the timing, but the cut was the same.

    I kept cutting, until out of the corner of my eye, I saw Su Li.

    I''d never been good at reading faces or bodies. Understanding people. Even as a child I''d never been quite heedlessly abrasive as Elder Cai, but it''d taken years of effort for me to really pass as normal.

    Su Li was not okay.

    She held her sword awkwardly, clutched like a child''s blanket. Her eyes were glued to the floor, but her posture was impossibly tense, like she wasn''t sure if she wanted to lash out at someone or collapse.

    The qi of the hall warped slightly around her, just like it did for so many of the Glass Flower''s inner disciples and elders. She''d taken one of the trials, passed it.

    "Perhaps I misjudged her." Elder Cai said, a pensive expression on her face. "It seems you saw a potential I did not. Do you think she would be attached to that spiritual organ? It seems well suited for her cultivation, but I would pay well to dissect it. Would you want pills for her? Or a weapon perhaps? I''m sure I could pay Su or Akayama for something suitable. Or I could just pay you in spirit stones. I''m flush this year, the war has been good for business. All the orthodox sects want defensive treasures and motive engines."

    Some mad part of me wanted to hit her. Just backhand her as carelessly as she''d tried to do to my disciple. I pushed it down. I was getting very good at that. She''d apologized for it, after Fang Xiao had informed her in hurried whispers that Su Li was mine.

    But it''d been the halfhearted apology of a scolded child who almost broke someone else''s toy. I was starting to see why Elder Cai had so few apparent allies among the other elders, despite how economically valuable her work was.

    "Excuse me." I said instead.

    "We don''t have enough samples yet. Even with a signature to replicate, I don''t have enough material."

    I ignored her, turning away to conceal my anger. I cleared my expression as I approached Su Li.

    I didn''t say anything. Our eyes met for a moment, and I stretched my mask to the limits of it''s expressivity. Tried to show her how I cared and worried, without compromising the stern calm of the character of Hu Xin.

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    I don''t think I succeeded. Wordlessly, she fell into step behind me.

    I led her to a side chamber that I''d visited earlier, one that didn''t contain anything worthy of a cultivator''s attention. A pair of Glass Flower outer disciples were there, one watching as the other cultivated.

    "Out." I said. My voice sounded even less like my own than it usually did.

    One of them opened their mouth to protest. Her sister, possessing better judgement, dragged her away.

    We sat in near-silence for a while. Her shoulders shuddered, as quiet noises I pretended not to hear forced their way out of her chest.

    Silently, I swore that if a disciple had done this, I would set aside the urge to be the bigger person. Not death. But they would be crying properly, before I was done.

    I''d never been good at comforting people. It tended to go hand in hand with struggling to understand them. But even a fool learns a few tricks. I pushed a thread of qi into my ring, and withdrew two mugs of tea, hot as the moment they were poured.

    I gently peeled one hand away from her sword, and pressed the mug into it.

    She looked up at me, then flinched away.

    "I apologize for failing to control my emotions." She said mechanically. "The trial was more unsettling than I expected. My lack of composure reflected poorly upon you. It will not happen again."

    "You succeeded. You do not need to be composed."

    It wasn''t what I wanted to say.

    I hated how I danced around the truth with Su Li. I wanted to just pull her aside and give her a hug, to take the vengeance she fixated on off her shoulders and tell her she was allowed to live as a person and want things other than revenge before she reached Core Formation.

    I worried a hug might leave her terrified I wanted the same things from her as Elder Liang. And it''d be one thing, if I just happened to kill Kang Guo one day in the future. Trying to dissuade Su Li from doing it herself was another matter entirely. It would be grievously out of character, and unwanted to boot.

    Somehow, instead of convincing her to take things slowly, I''d somehow pushed her into diving headlong into the trials.

    "Meng Daiyu told us to report our experiences to an elder." She said suddenly.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about your experience in the trial?¡±

    Her hands tightened.

    "It... It twisted my memories. Blended real places and real people with situations that never occurred. I remembered Geng Ru as a rival criminal. Attributed things you taught me to my father. The more I try to remember it, the less sense pieces makes. I remember fighting Geng Ru as part of a gang war. But we won the war. Even though I lost to Geng Ru, and I was the most powerful cultivator in the street gang."

    She paused, then shook her head.

    "I should being at the beginning. I took the trial called The Company of Moonlight. When I passed beneath the painted archway, I was drawn into an illusory world. I immediately forgot I was in a trial, and treated it as the true world..."

    As she wove her tale, I couldn''t help but notice certain similarities. It wasn''t the story of Chang''e, or even an adaptation, but elements of it certainly rhymed. The theft of a life extension pill, the strong preying on those who could not defend themselves. It certainly wasn''t particularly subtle about what it had been testing, a combination of skill, bravery, and altruism. It certainly lent credence to this temple having been a religious site, and one leaning more towards the orthodox than the demonic.

    I had so many questions. Had Chang''e, or this world''s analogue, fallen out of favor among her pantheon? Were her name and story wiped from history during the War in Heaven Elder Cai had mentioned?

    The way it twisted Su Li''s memories without changing the nature of her cultivation overmuch, that put thoughts in my mind. I wondered just how intelligent the mind behind this formation was. Could a construct really create a narrative so smooth and detailed? Or was there a still living cultivator behind this, overseeing the process? Either answer suggested possibilities both interesting and worrying.

    As Su Li fell silent, her story complete, I studied her. She still wasn''t meeting my eyes.

    "You acquitted yourself well." I said. "Succeeded where many of your peers would fail. I am proud of your achievement. Yet you are unsettled."

    I hated the weight of the unspoken question. I knew if I asked directly why she was upset, she would answer. But I wanted to give her a choice as much as I wanted to know.

    "I was happy." She finally said, choking out the words. "Nothing had changed. I remained the same age. I still stood at the sixth stage of Qi Condensation. Kang Guo still lived. My father was still dead. I knew that the comradery I had found would be temporary, even in the illusion. But I was happy."

    "I see."

    My heart broke, and a tear formed at the corner of my own eye. I clenched my folded leg so tightly tendons threatened to pop. Squeezed my abdomen until I could no longer take the breaths I did not need. My heart could break, my mask would not.

    ¡°Master." She finally finished. "Is being a cultivator always lonely?¡±

    Oh Su Li. It was such a simple thing in the end.

    ¡°To be a cultivator is to seek power." The worlds spilled out of me unbidden, speeches I''d planned and things I''d feared merging together of their own accord. "There is no way around that. Each of us holds the lives of our juniors in our hands. I have yet to meet a single cultivator whose practice could not be turned to violence if they so chose. Even the most peaceful of immortal doctors bears within them the seed of carnage beyond mortal imagination.

    ¡°If you continue down this road, people will want things from you. Protection. Teaching. Resources. Others will fear you. What you might do, the day you reach their realm. Friendship without thought for gain or loss is a beautiful thing. But like most beautiful things, it is rare. Sometimes it is cultivated like a garden. Other times it is born in a flash from a confluence of time and fate, a bond like a bolt of lightning.

    ¡°It becomes harder as we age. And we cultivators will live on long after mortal bones have turned to dust. Centuries of cynicism and violence will scar even the strongest hearts.

    ¡°I am old, Disciple Su. I have lost more close companions than you have ever known, to time and betrayal, or paths diverging. Yet, even knowing how some of those brotherhoods would end, precious few of them would I say were not worth the journey. A cultivator must be able to stand alone against the world, but that does not mean they must always be alone.¡±

    I paused. I hadn''t meant to say quite that much. But I meant every word of it, even if most of it was a lie.

    ¡°I ramble. To answer your question disciple, yes, it is a lonely road. But it is a loneliness to be fought with a heart as open as you can bear. Heaven is not the only thing a cultivator must defy.¡±

    It wasn''t what Hu Xin would have said. But I would die before I let Su Li become a sword. I blinked. How dramatic my inner monologue had become. Still, I meant it.

    ¡°I see.¡± Su Li said quietly.

    I worried, at what she might have seen, but I set it aside. I''d let my fear control me for weeks, it was past time I stopped.

    "Master. How do I put these memories aside? I know them to be false. But I still long for the voices of brothers and sisters who never were. I... I find myself doubting the path I walked. Wondering if there was a better way."

    A way other than the Pathless Night, she meant. A thought I wanted to encourage, but not in that context. Still, this was a question I could answer. I lived a variation of it, after all.

    "You cannot live in an illusion."

    I paused.

    "I know that, Master."

    "Imagine, that you woke once more." I continued, ignoring the interruption. "That all this life was revealed to be a dream. Another trial perhaps. Myself, your family, your friends, every passing kindness a stranger showed you. Every connection you had ever known, false."

    Su Li shivered.

    "If that happened, and you awoke a different woman in a different life. Your memories the only proof any of these people had ever been. Would you still live as your father taught you?"

    "Of course I would!"

    "Why?" I asked calmly.

    "I... I don''t have a good answer. But how could I do otherwise?"

    "Then carry forward what you can, and let go of what you must. Remember what I told Fang Xiao. Sometimes true or false is the wrong question. This is the world we live in. Even if the trial showed you a future that could have been, and I greatly doubt that it did, that does not change the fact that it is not. But if it was a fabrication, that does not make you wrong to want what you had there."

    "How can it not matter? Whether a memory is true or not?"

    "You remember events as you remember them. They will fade in time, absent repetition to reinforce them. But they''re true to you. You can''t live in an illusion, even one that could have been. Yet you can''t cut a memory away just by knowing it to be false. Even my sword yet lacks that quality. That doesn''t mean you can''t use those experiences to make better choices tomorrow, even as they fade."

    A fragile silence fell between us. Perhaps it was the wrong answer I gave. Perhaps it was different for her, now that she remembered the rest of her life again. But it was the answer that sustained me, on those long nights I spent wondering if the life I remembered had ever been real at all.

    That it yet lived on in me.

    Then Su Li yawned. She flushed immediately, embarrassed.

    I carefully did not smile.

    "Philosophy will keep." I said quietly. "Sleep, I will see that you are not disturbed."

    This wasn''t a bedroom, but we hadn''t yet found any within the outer layer of the temple complex. And a qi condensation cultivator could sleep just fine on stone.

    Su Li nodded blearily, then perked up.

    "I touched something, in the trial." She said. "A moment of enlightenment perhaps. I felt the beginnings of something that seemed like it could become a technique. One for movement, or defense. It''s hard to put into words. Close as the moon overhead, and as far away. Untouchable."

    I did smile this time, and broadly. It was perhaps the wrong thing to encourage. But I was happy for her.

    "I will give you all the help I can, to explore and develop it. Tomorrow."

    I left Su Li a few blankets, before moving to sit outside the chamber''s door. I pulled a small knife from the arsenal in my ring, imbuing it with intent and setting it to spin atop a finger. It''d become something of a fidgeting exercise for me these last few days, a way to work on finer control.

    The elders would meet soon. If Su Li had passed a trial, I had no doubt Meng Daiyu had done the same. Our young mistress and the Glass Flowers all seemed to know something I didn''t. Seemed to think that this was a race, not a conquest.

    The actions of the Glass Flowers, antagonizing their host nation, rather than allying with them against us, made little sense otherwise. They had to think their was something here to acquire that could be taken from the temple, and either hidden or held against theft. An inheritance? Full control over the formation itself? Perhaps it had a further mode that would return the temple to it''s hidden state?

    That, or their disunity was a farce, and they were simply waiting for imperial reinforcements, before attacking us. Unlikely, given that they''d gone so far as to deny the army encamped outside entrance. But still possible.

    I needed more information. Any play the other sects made would almost by definition involve taking me off the board somehow. And any plan they made to handle the old Hu would be overkill against me.

    I stopped the spinning knife with a qi-coated finger, plunging it into a wall. I pulled gently on it with my aura. It was annoying me that I couldn''t pull myself towards my swords. I could use the additional mobility, if I were ever disarmed. It made no sense, that I could push or pull them, and yet there was no reactionary force upon my body. That definitely violated the conservation of something. Energy? Force?

    I was still missing something still. It had to be possible.

    What could I do, to give myself more cards to play when the knives finally came out?

    An idea struck me. It was a little reckless. But I had a bad feeling about the storm brewing around us. Perhaps it was past time for a little recklessness.

 Chapter 43 - The Machinery Of Empire

    When Wang Li awoke, it was in chains. This was in truth a novel experience for him. He''d been robbed and beaten, even lost a hand once. That latter experience had shaped the form of his bodily cultivation as he sought to forge himself anew.

    Chains though, those were new. Few powers could restrain hostile cultivators indefinitely. Fewer still bothered to.

    Still, he could have done worse than the Qin. The Shan or the demons would have been far less survivable.

    "So, when''s my execution?" Wang Li asked the empty room.

    When silence greeted him, he rose as far as the twin shackles binding his wrists to the cool stone floor allowed him.

    He braced himself, then strove mightily. Steel screeched, and blood dripped down his fingers.

    How pathetic he was. These chains would be nothing to him, if he had even the most rudimentary of weapons. Even without the ability to manifest his intent, qi-reinforced steel alone would be enough to wear through them in time. But stripped of his ring and spear, he was nigh helpless. Another flaw to remedy. This year had exposed so very many of them.

    It wasn''t even an immortal blacksmith''s work, he suspected. Just mortal steel worked into links half as thick as his wrist.

    If all else failed, he could force his hands through the shackles. It''d cost a him thumb and a finger each from each hand, but his bodily cultivation would allow him to heal that eventually. Unfortunately, the shackles were certainly not the greatest obstacle standing between him and freedom. He pushed what qi he could muster outwards, probing. The stone was thicker than two hand spans. In his weakened state, his spiritual sense could push no further. Most likely the whole facility was underground. The door was mere yew and iron, but he could sense traces of qi upon it. At least one formation. More likely alarm than reinforcement, if they intended the door to be more durable than his shackles, they would have used better materials.

    He needed a weapon to have any chance of breaking out. He couldn''t trust that the first guard he encountered would be weak enough for him to overpower. They would never send anyone below peak foundation establishment into his room alone. They could leave him without food or water for weeks, there was no reason to risk that.

    No, it wasn''t time for moves that desperate yet. He was being watched. He would wager his life on it. The formations on the door had to be for monitoring, restraining a core formation cultivator, however injured, with mere steel made no sense otherwise.

    Instead, Wang Li turned his focus inward, trying to catalogue all the changes advancing had made to his body and spirit. His qi was stable, and denser than it''d ever been, but there were dangers to tempering an advancement in battle like that. It would take time before he understood just how his meridians had shifted, and how his new core altered how qi moved through his channels.

    Burns still covered much of his skin. They hardly hurt, he was already healing. He almost wished they did, the constant itching was incredibly unpleasant. His right hand would be useless for days yet, three fingers were still fused together.

    He would need a new, more refined, cultivation method to begin advancing again. But his old one, properly modified, should at least allow him to assist his core in replenishing his barren meridian network.

    The empire hadn''t even bothered to set a formation in his cell to continually drain away qi, as the sects did for more powerful prisoners. Another point in favor of him being under constant surveillance. Unfortunately, the ambient qi was so sparse as to be nonexistent anyway. It only took a few minutes of cycling to absorb what few wisps of power were within his reach. Even with his new core, it would take many days for him to recover without the ability to absorb external qi.

    It was hours, before the heavy steel door of his cell ground open. He spent the time considering how he might modify his cycling patterns. Unfortunately, without reference materials he made little headway. Even a genius like him couldn''t solve every problem from first principles.

    The princess entered, a cruel smile on her face. Three men flanked her, two flunkies without cultivation worth mentioning, and a faceless Imperial Guard at her back.

    Wang Li only had eyes for the woman who had captured him. What was her name? He couldn''t remember. Had she even given it?

    He ran through what he could remember of the imperial family. The old dragon had far too many children, but precious few in core formation. Four? Five? It couldn''t be a consort, Chen Yu had called her princess. Only two daughters were in core formation. Xifeng, it had to be. The only other woman, Qin Ai, was older, and married into some clan or other.

    He knew little about her. That sort of gossip had never seemed like the sort of thing he might need to remember. Another oversight.

    Qin Xifeng watched him silently. He matched her stare, trying to puzzle out what she wanted. Service? A confession? There were a number of things he could say before the court that would inconvenience a number of different factions. He was hardly the only person to flout the law in the days leading up to his thefts.

    Wang Li broke the silence first. He never did have much patience for petty posturing. A man could speak first without bending his neck.

    "Oh, my princess, you think too highly of me. What have I done to merit to merit such a reception?"

    The girl''s irritating smile widened.

    "His majesty''s court has been abuzz since your capture. It seems every tongue has an opinion about your crimes."

    "Again, I ask you. When''s my execution?" He knew she''d heard him. Or been informed of every word that left his mouth.

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    "That, depends on the choices you make today."

    Of course it did. She wouldn''t be here, if there were no roads forward for him. How banal. No doubt she''d crow about justice for a time, before offering him the chance to become a slave in name as well as truth.

    "Spit it out then." He said. "What will you demand of me that you cannot simply take?"

    "My father''s mercy is as boundless as his might. If you were to make sincere repentance, and offer service to the throne in amends, even your sins might be forgiven."

    "I regret nothing." Wang Li hissed. "I will serve the throne if that is the only choice left to me, but if ''sincere repentance'' is a firm condition, you can leave me alone until the headsman is ready."

    The princess sighed loudly. She was a poor actor.

    "You stole an imperial treasure, assaulted an inner disciple of a sect in good standing with his majesty, and resisted a lawful arrest from a member of his army under the direct command of an imperial scion." She said slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. "You earned a death sentence thrice over, and you cannot swallow your pride enough to apologize in order to save your skin."

    Wang Li held his tongue. There were many things he was tempted to say. He''d done nothing worth apologizing for. Petty tyrants couldn''t complain when their victims treated them as they''d been treated. Any system that birthed men into poverty and denied them any opportunity to rise except through service had no right to complain when their beaten dogs bit back.

    But none of that needed to be said. It was funny, just how little leverage holding a man''s life in your hands gave you when he was more useful to you alive than dead.

    "Are we to talk ourselves in circles again?" He finally asked. "You won, I lost. Being victorious does not make you righteous. Stop putting on airs and make your offer."

    "You are neither blind nor deaf. You know as well as any cultivator in the empire that the southern front is a beast whose hunger knows no bounds. Anything might be forgiven, for one who could win sufficient glory there. But we both know you''re too weak by far. Even after your advancement, it would likely be a death sentence, simply a slower and more honorable one. A criminal of your standing could be expect to be hard used and poorly supported, a priority target for the Shan."

    Wang Li could see where this was going.

    "And I suppose, you have an alternative."

    "Time and tide wait for no man, not even the emperor. An unexpected opportunity has appeared, and his majesty has entrusted me with a heavy burden and a long road."

    Irritatingly vague. But then, she wouldn''t give him anything he could offer another courtier. If he was even allowed the opportunity to speak with one before his fate was decided.

    "You want me to serve personally under you?"

    "Yes. Unless the southern front is more to your liking? I''m sure my elder brother would treat you exactly as your status deserves."

    Wang Li took the opportunity to perform his own exaggerated sigh. If he could not be dignified, he could at least be annoying.

    "There are many things I would like to say about where you could stuff that proposition, and the sorts of rhythmic motions you could make with it afterwards. However I do not feel the need to compound the crimes I am accused of with slander against the imperial family at this time."

    To his surprise, the princess burst into genuine laughter. Her guards exchanged deeply uncomfortable glances.

    "I like your spirit, Wang Li. It''s just a pity that it was paired with such a deficit of wisdom. I could do much, with a servant like you."

    "Your father might as well hope for a general with the might of an immortal. Tigers do not serve snakes, no matter the serpent''s parentage."

    "I am a daughter of the dragon. I assure you, my hunger exceeds your own. And yet, I serve. It is a deficiency of imagination, to believe that service and ambition are incompatible."

    "And yet, you have no servants with my spirit."

    "I have no servants with your spirit, yet."

    Her grin was infuriating. Worse still was that she wasn''t wrong. A part of him was tempted to spite her. To take his chances as a criminal conscript, poor as they were.

    The princess continued speaking as he stewed in resentment. She had him, and worse yet, she knew it. Whatever foolish errand she''d been entrusted with would be far safer than the front. However many years of service that came after would still be safer than the front. Caged bird or not she wouldn''t be in the position to make an offer like this if she didn''t understand exactly which concessions she would need to make for him to accept it.

    "You are a thoroughly frustrating man Wang Li. If you could see the world as it is a little more clearly, you could have been celebrated for the prodigy that you are, instead of being slated for execution."

    Hah. Execution. They both knew that wasn''t even an option on the table now, unless he insisted on it. The Qin were in far too desperate a situation to kill their own core formation cultivators over anything except the most public of defiance. They would use him sorely, then arrange his death if it looked like he might advance far enough to become an actual threat.

    "My princess, your kind words mean the world to me. I''m honored to hear you think so highly of my talents." The words tasted like rancid oil on his tongue, bringing to the fore memories he''d long since set aside. He''d stomached far worse than an overbearing brat in the past, what would it say about him if he couldn''t swallow his pride now? One day, he would humble her. Perhaps even kill her, if the old dragon passed.

    "Whatever you think of yourself, you are a prodigy. Unfortunately, talent in excess is no promise of long life. More often the opposite, when it comes without the wisdom to temper it."

    Wang Li snorted, then spat upon the floor, dangerously close to the princess''s slippers. The two soldiers bristled at the insult, grasping at their weapons, but the Imperial Guard was more disciplined. Truthfully, he was impressed they''d held their tempers this long. In public, his words would have long since seen him slain on the spot.

    The princess stilled the men with a raised hand.

    "The woman who retreats a hundred steps laughs at the man who retreats fifty." He said mockingly. Somehow, he doubted this mad princess was a font of that particular sort of humility.

    "And yet, I''m not the one in chains. You should have known this is the best outcome you could have hoped for the moment you struck at Disciple Zhang."

    "Sometimes, a man must do things without consideration for gain or loss." Wang Li said.

    "Please. The implication that you didn''t consider gain or loss when stealing my father''s spear is more insulting than anything you''ve said thus far."

    That was the difference between them, Wang Li thought. Qin Xifeng still thought life was fair. She''d deny it if put in such terms, but she did. She believed sufficient talent and wisdom could navigate a safe path between the storms. She didn''t understand that sometimes, the only way a man could defy his fate was to accept it.

    "And yet, it''s one of the most truthful things either of us has said today." He finally responded.

    "You want truth, ungilded? Very well, then you shall have it. You will moan and complain. You will threaten to accept death or conscription. You will bargain for years and dicker about terms. And then you will swear to follow where I lead, and fight where I command. And a decade from now, you will hate me still. But in the darkest corner of your heart, you will accept that it was the day you knelt before me, that you truly began to rise."

    "We shall see." He hated the retort. It was weak, hollow. It was true, but sometimes truth was worthless.

    "Don''t take too long. The emperor saw fit to stay your execution because his kind-hearted daughter believed you had the potential to make amends for your crimes against the throne."

    The young woman with the eyes of a dragon grinned hungrily at him.

    "I leave the capital in a few days. A filial daughter must do her duties, even if they should take her far from her father''s side. I should hate to see you meet with misfortune in my absence."

    Wang Li swallowed. He contented himself with merely imagining what expression the princess would have worn, if he''d instead spat in her face.

 Chapter 44 - Elder Hus Trial

    I woke feeling pleasantly cool. I''d thrown the heavy blankets off in my sleep. I glanced at the clock. 7:49. A terrible time. Too late to get back to sleep, too early to do anything worthwhile before logging into work.

    I rolled out of bed, if you could call a mattress without a box spring or frame a bed, and staggered over to my desk. I shoved the mess of notebooks, pens, and controllers over to the right. I should really get a second desk. I had the money. All the popular science blogs were touting the benefits of a dedicated location for work these days. Stupid pandemic.

    I popped the work laptop open, centering my face for the camera. Not Recognized. I tried twice more, before it forced me to enter my pin. Stupid temperamental camera.

    Zero messages from coworkers. Not too surprisingly, half of them were west-coasters anyway. Two bullshit enterprise sales cold emails. I relegated the senders to spam. Excellent. I had time for breakfast and a shower. I probably had time anyway, but this job paid twice as much as anything I''d had before. I wasn''t risking that over work life balance. Shit, the phrase barely meant anything these days.

    I padded out of my bedroom, the hardwood floor surprisingly comfortable beneath my socks. Unusual, for late fall in Chicago. The insurance office downstairs must have been running their heater hard today.

    The fridge was slim pickings. I wasn''t feeling health conscious or hungry enough to force myself to eat oatmeal today. My eyes settled on the pepperoni. Saw the half finished block of bacon-gouda next to it. Cheese and crackers it was.

    A knife from the block leapt to my hand. Idly, I twirled it, feeling it dance like a flame along the tips of my fingers. Odd. I wasn''t usually so spry in the morning. Must be the warmth.

    I put the blade to the block of cheese, pressing through. Deeper and deeper it slid, as I waited for a resistance that never came. A thin slice of cheese peeled itself off the blade of my knife. A knife now deeply embedded in the dark brown wood of the cutting board.

    That was wrong.

    "Those are not my hands." I murmured dreamily.

    I didn''t have scars on my fingers. My vision flickered, then wavered as if underwater. Wrong.

    Images of those stupid videos of cakes made to look like everyday objects flashed into my head. There were only two other keys to this apartment. None of them belonged to people who were that good at baking. Or that dedicated to pranking.

    Possessed by a queer madness, I pushed the knife harder. I felt a momentary resistance, as it bit into the concrete countertop.

    This was wrong.

    I dropped the knife, grabbing the board. I twisted it. Wood groaned, then splintered.

    It was wood, not cake.

    It was a lie. All of it. My chest felt tight. I wasn''t breathing.

    I ran down the hall, scrambling for the bathroom. I stumbled in, eyes glued to the floor. Whenever I went to the bathroom at night, I never looked in the mirror. There wasn''t a reason for it. It just seemed obvious. Why would anyone sane stare into a mirror in a dark room?

    Despite the gentle light of the morning, that same magnetism kept my eyes glued to the floor.

    With a sudden jerk, I forced them up. Pressed my face so close to the mirror it filled my vision and fogged with my breath.

    Another man''s eyes stared back at me. A face as familiar as it was foreign.

    "That is not my face." It didn''t need to be said, but I said it anyway.

    A section of the countertop snapped like a rice cracker under scarred fingers. The ice broke. I remembered who I was. Who I wasn''t anymore. My breathing evened out. Calmly, I placed the broken shard of quartz in the bowl of the sink.

    It¡¯d been such a simple thing, the first part of my wager. Su Li¡¯s trial had kept her level of cultivation constant, even as it¡¯d changed her memories. But a nascent soul cultivation base wasn¡¯t exactly compatible with my memories of the Chicago apartment. Or anywhere else I''d lived, for that matter.

    Part of me had hoped I might see some of Hu Xin''s memories. It would have been far more dangerous, but the dissonance between who others had expected me to be and who I was might still have jarred me out of the illusion. Still, this was going well so far.

    I stepped back out into the main living space of my apartment. It was in many ways unfinished. A very stereotypical bachelor pad. I had a bad habit of never really settling into a place. I''d moved a lot as a child, and hadn''t ever really stopped as an adult. I''d served at two bases during my three years of service, not counting basic. Moved twice during college, finding cheaper places to pocket more of my housing allowance. Four more times after that, chasing money and running from places I never felt I fit. Chasing and running from girls a little too, if I was being honest. I still cringed a little, at the thought that my entire time as a paramedic was downstream of wanting to spend a little more time with a particular girl.

    The Chicago apartment had been the first place I owned. It''d been a shithole when I bought it. The last tenant had done nothing when the roof began to leak. Allowed water to pool for months, letting sections of the living room rot down to the subfloor. The landlord had been happy to wash his hands of the place.

    I''d contracted out the roof for a painful amount of money. Done new flooring myself, still for a painful amount of money. And then I''d stopped. Never really furnished it, beyond the things I already had, and the essentials of life, like a new waffle maker.

    I suppose at first I had just been comfortable. Sparse was how I''d lived for twenty years. And then I''d expected that we''d do it together, when She moved in.

    Even here, I didn''t want to think the names. It was easier to forget, when I didn''t use them.

    I stopped by the mini fridge, grabbing a soda. Check the freezer, found vanilla ice cream. No sense watching my figure in a dream after all.

    I sat down on the couch, an olive green hand-me-down, and sipped on my Dr Pepper float. God I''d missed that taste. Time for phase two of my wager. Any mind capable of telling a story, however much it borrowed from it''s audience, had to be capable of speaking. The question was, did it consider me worth talking to?

    ¡°Despite my apparent affiliations, I don¡¯t need to be your enemy." I said aloud. "You should see that now."

    I felt slightly foolish, when there was no response. Still, I would persevere. If I was wrong, acting like a fool would cost nothing.

    I wondered what shape this story would take, if I let it play out. Would I step out for groceries and wander into a corrupt alderman trying to evict some poor old lady? It was an idle question, one way or another, I was going to derail this train.

    I grabbed the knife from the counter.

    "I would like to speak to a manager." I said, brandishing it.

    When I''d first tried to enter the trial, it had rejected me. The ethereal painting done in hues of light smooth as glass beneath my fingers.

    I''d simply cut my way in. The painting had shuddered and flickered, but it''d let me in eventually.

    I released my qi, spreading my aura through the apartment. I could feel the false world around me straining against my influence.

    It was clear to me now that these trials weren''t meant for nascent soul cultivators. However they worked, they simply weren''t built sturdily enough to handle one of us when we got rowdy.

    I set the knife to the wall. As my intent flowed into it, I felt it become more real than anything else in the apartment, as if stabilized by my intent. Interesting. Slowly, I began to peel back the skin of the illusion.

    Instead of sunlight, milky white moonlight spilled out from the gash in my wall. Ghostly symbols pulsed beneath. The ragged edges of the cut danced to an invisible wind. I sat sipping my float, staring at the wound in the world. Slowly, it''s edges stabilized. I felt something press against my qi. Another presence.

    I smiled.

    "Hello."

    My casual greeting echoed in the deafening silence. The usual noises of the Chicago morning had disappeared at some point. I turned to the window, and saw the skyline blurring and fading, overwhelmed by the same smooth light.

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    My heart beat faster and my throat tightened, as the outside world was slowly washed away. I continued speaking. This was the plan. If it failed, I would cut my way back to reality.

    "I''d hoped to speak with you. It should be apparent now, that despite my apparent affiliation, I am not who I appear to be. The Pathless Night came to plunder this place. But you and I need not be enemies." The words were awkward, stilted. I should have rehearsed them.

    Down the hall, a door opened. A woman stepped out.

    Dull blonde hair. A grey-pink sweater hanging off one shoulder. A face so achingly familiar. But her eyes were wrong. Bone white orbs like marbles, instead of the sea-glass green that haunted my memories.

    I swung the knife faster than I could think. How dare it impersonate Her. It was wrong, so wrong that I Cut it out of the world.

    As the steel passed, there was nothing. No wound. No trace. No Her.

    ¡°If you show me that face again, I will make it my purpose to end you." I spat through gritted teeth. I breathed out. Ah, shit. That had not been the tact I''d been planning to open negotiations with. I scrambled to think of something to recover with. "It''s nothing personal. But I''ve lost enough, without you rubbing my face in it."

    I waited, rage and frustration warring within me. Perhaps I should just lean into it. Emphasize the loneliness and instability and hope it underestimated me.

    A few moments later, another woman walked out of the storage room. Meng Daiyu, clad in jeans and a t-shirt, with those same eyes of white marble.

    Interesting. It''d skipped Su Li. Had it chosen Meng Daiyu for her beauty? Or because it wanted to entirely avoid anything that might trigger strong emotions? Two female faces was also a data point. I still wasn''t sure whether I would be talking to an intelligent formation, something like the Sectmaster''s jade slip, or a true person. A gender preference suggested a person, but was it not using it''s own face because it could only use ones I''d seen within the formation, or because it didn''t have one?

    "Thank you."

    Slowly, almost stiffly, the woman who was not Meng Daiyu walked across the room. I was tempted to offer her a drink, but she wasn''t real, and this wasn''t that sort of conversation.

    She sat down on the beanbag across from my couch, her back so straight it was clear she didn''t understand the point of a beanbag.

    We stared at each other for a moment.

    "Who are you?" She asked.

    "I suppose you could say I''m a stranger in a strange land. But for now, you can call me Hu Xin. Who are you?" I returned the question.

    "I suppose you could say I am the ghost of a dead dream. But for now, you can call me Meng Daiyu." She echoed.

    I smiled despite myself. This had already been worth it, even if we couldn''t come to an accord. There was a person, behind this colossal formation.

    "Are we going to have this entire conversation in riddle and metaphor?"

    "I merely returned what you offered."

    I tapped my fingers against the fabric, feeling where my old cat Sekhmet, god rest his soul, had torn the hell out of my couch. Was it worth making a leap of faith?

    "What is it, that you seek here?" The woman who was not Meng Daiyu asked.

    "Meng Daiyu took one of your trials. Do you remember her master?" I answered her question with another.

    "I do." She smiled back at me. Those bone white eyes really were a little unnerving.

    "I suspect, that he would not allow me to retire from my duties."

    "Meng Daiyu''s memories do not contradict these suppositions. Meng Xiao claims a grand authority, one that would be difficult to escape as you are."

    She did not have to be honest. That would be a very convenient thing to say to back me into a corner. All she''d truly shown, is that she knew the Sectmaster''s name. But it was another data point.

    "I want peace. Safety. A little farm in the middle of nowhere, and the means to conceal it. A way out from under Meng Xiao''s thumb, without trading one master for another."

    The woman across from me leaned back into her beanbag. Slowly, her movements were becoming less stiff. I was leaning towards a person, now. There was no reason for a formation capable of orchestrating these trials to need a few moments to adjust to a body. Was she a ghost of some sort? She''d all but called herself as much earlier. A ghost of a dead dream.

    "I see."

    "What is it then, that you want?" I asked. The greatest thing I''d learned thus far was simply that there was a mind behind this formation. The mind wearing Meng Daiyu''s face had offered so very little in the way of actual facts thus far.

    "It is a curious world that exists in your memories. I wonder what my mistress would have thought of it. It is not her dream, the order she sought. But perhaps it rhymes, tarnished as it is. I will repay faith with faith. My sect and era are gone, and my mistress with them. And yet, I linger still. And I do not wish to fade."

    She turned to the window. The light was closer now, brighter. Even the adjoining street had been consumed by it. My little apartment was all that was left of the world. I turned, and saw the gash I''d made was steadily growing. It reached into the kitchen now, bleeding alabaster light.

    "We two are too heavy a presence for this lesser dreaming chamber. Soon, the dream will break. Do not seek another lesser chamber, save at gravest need. I will unbar your path. Seek me out, in the center of the sanctuary. Seek the terminals within the inner sect, to speak with me further. Protect the wayward daughters that strive towards our mistress''s legacy. I am blind to much of the world beyond these walls. But if Meng Xiao is considered mighty in these dim days, restored to my former strength, I would be without peer. Help me, and break your chains."

    I opened my mouth to respond, but the world broke. It was sudden, impossibly fast. One moment I sat on the couch, the next I stood before the three trials. The knife my parents had bought so long ago replaced by Hu Xin''s sword.

    The Company Of Moonlight was broken. An inky slash marring the moon where I''d cut my way in. When I''d entered, the room had been near empty. Only a few disciples loitering, working up the courage to attempt one of the trials.

    "He''s back!"

    "That was fast."

    "Elder Hu!"

    I turned, recognizing the last voice. Apparently someone had grabbed her.

    "Were you worried for me, Elder Cai?" I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice.

    "You expressed no previous interest in the trials. I came to see what changed your mind. I remained to monitor the way the damage you did to the structure of the formation progressed."

    "How long was I in there?"

    "Mere minutes. Far shorter than any victor to date."

    I nodded. That tracked. Su Li had mentioned a full day of subjective time. I couldn''t have had more than fifteen minutes.

    "Did you discover anything interesting watching from the outside?" I asked.

    "No. I confirmed my strongly held suspicion that individual trials are sub-formations linked to the whole. Even destroying all of them would likely not damage the primary formation in any appreciable way."

    I hummed noncommittally. That was interesting, but I was trying to catalogue everything I''d learned and suspected. I''d call her the Ghost Immortal, for now. She''d all but claimed to be as much. I knew nothing about the mechanics of an immortal lingering after death, but she seemed certain there was a path forward for her. Possession?

    She''d confirmed that this was a sect, or implied as much.

    It would be beyond foolish to take everything she''d said at face value. But just knowing she existed gave me a huge edge. I''d have to probe the Glass Flowers, see if she was actually what they were willing to risk everything for. If she really was a true immortal, the moment she was released, their sect would effectively become regional hegemons. They''d also be as much at her mercy as everyone else.

    And yet, revealing herself to me at all suggested her position wasn''t as strong as it appeared. She needed something she couldn''t get herself.

    But that still left the question of what exactly was this complex. She''d called it both a sanctuary, and referenced an inner sect. It didn''t strike me as intended to be a tomb, regardless of the immortal at the center. There were too many rooms, thrones, gardens, and other details. Had the Ghost Immortal squatted in the remains of a sect? Or was she the only survivor of it?

    ¡°What was the challenge?¡± Elder Cai asked, interrupting my thoughts. "You seem to have broken it, but I''m curious what it subjected you to."

    ¡°I''m not actually certain. I took an unconventional path to the end of the trial. Cut right to the heart of the matter, so to speak.¡± I joked.

    ¡°You succeeded then?¡±

    ¡°I did not lose." I paused, considering how much to say. "There was no reward, I did not clear the trial in the way it''s creator intended. But I''m fairly certain that I''ve acquired the permissions needed to move deeper into the complex.¡±

    "That''s quite vague."

    "Even a straight-forward sword cultivator like me has a few secrets." I said. "Even if you knew exactly what I did, you would not be able to replicate it." I looked at the painting. "Even if the trial were not broken. I wouldn''t recommend attempting it in this state."

    Elder Cai gave me a flat look.

    "I am not suicidal."

    "I didn''t think you were. That was more for the benefit of the disciples."

    Elder Cai snorted. It was not a particularly dignified sound.

    The two of us fell into step, walking out of the trial chamber.

    "Meng Daiyu called a meeting. She wants to move deeper in." Elder Cai said.

    "I suppose I should join her. I would be a poor dao protector if I let her wander deeper unattended."

    "Is that why you attempted the trial? I assumed you''d just remind the Glass Flowers we''d massacre them if she was injured."

    "No." I said slowly. "I had an idea, and I wished to test it."

    Elder Cai nodded solemnly. I suspected she''d done far more dangerous things for similar reasons.

    "Oh," I continued. "I''m fairly certain those spiritual organs the trials reward are unrelated to the formation''s access permissions."

    She smiled.

    "I suspected as much the moment I heard the young mistress and the other outer disciple received other rewards. I''m still confident in this approach. The way the qi flows, there must be something in the process of identification I can falsify. Give me another day or two, and I''m certain Elder Su and I will be able to progress further as well."

    The two of us lapsed into a companionable silence as she led me to the room where the other elders waited. I still wasn''t sure how I felt about Elder Cai. I knew she wasn''t a good person, and she''d tried to electrocute my disciple. But there was something endearing about her forthrightness. I would be a little sad, if I had to kill her.

    Not that it would stop me. I''d never intentionally killed before, in my forty-odd years on these two worlds, but I didn''t think I would be the sort to hesitate. The sort to cry after, or struggle to sleep, perhaps. I''d witnessed enough death, even contributed to some of them; patients I''d failed, guilty and innocent alike I''d distantly helped bomb. No, my hand might tremble, if the moment came.

    But it would not falter.

    One day, I would put this sword up on a mantle. Probably not a mantle in an actual farmhouse. I liked having a garden, but I was under no illusions about subsistence farming being some idyllic paradise. God, now that I thought about it, I had no idea what I would even do if I were free to choose. Open a restaurant in some city? Carve Buddha statues with my vorpal blade? Reinvent semiconductors? None of those really felt like me.

    Well, I could cross that bridge when I got to it. How bad could unemployment really be, when one didn''t need to eat? Until then, I would do whatever I had to, to get out from under the sect''s thumb. Whether that was sell my soul to a master I could tolerate, or swallow my feelings and work to reform the Pathless Night from within to something I could live with.

    But I had a sinking suspicion I would not leave this temple with clean hands. Too many hungry eyes were circling a prize that could not be shared, waiting for another to make the first move. One way or another, I would soon need to make a bloody choice, and live with it.

 Chapter 45 - Mission Planning

    "Are you going to share any further details about how you broke the trial formation?" Elder Cai asked as we walked. "I would not dream of prying into the secrets of your practice, but I would appreciate anything you could tell me about how the trials work."

    I thought about it. I wanted to cultivate Elder Cai as an ally. I had no real read on Elder Su, and the young mistress treated me with perfect politeness, but undisguised irritation.

    What could I actually tell Cai?

    "I don''t mind speaking on it in principal. You''ve certainly been free enough in sharing with your expertise with me."

    Elder Cai smiled widely.

    "I''m sure you are far more familiar with the intricacies of illusory formations than I." I continued, laying it on thick. The woman''s weakness for praise was so very convenient to me. "I have found that in the case of formations like these that seek to replace both the target''s memories and surroundings, any discord between the two is a potential point of weakness."

    "Stretching the congruity of the formation to it''s breaking point. Simple enough." Elder Cai mused. "Then what, you just cut it apart from within?"

    "Indeed. Those two bits are the crux of it. A trump card to break out of memory alteration, and something destructive enough to overwhelm or fray the illusory world. Nascent soul level sword intent was more than sufficient, even without a proper weapon."

    Elder Cai''s lips pursed. "Less immediately useful than I''d hoped. You think just breaking it granted you access permissions? That strikes me as unlikely."

    "I used another trick to put the simulation in a state where it would fail in a way that advantaged me." I blatantly lied.

    "Hmm. A pity it''s not more replicable. Still, perhaps I could use a formation to protect my own memories. Then I could at least take the test knowing it wants a certain outcome." Elder Cai mused. "Were you able to bring anything in?"

    "No, no storage ring either. I had to work with what was provided."

    "That narrows my options. I suppose I''ll just have to continue working my own approach. Submitting to the judgement of the dead is a last resort."

    We lapsed into a comfortable silence, as Elder Cai fell deep into thought.

    "It''s rare that I envy you sword cultivators." She finally said.

    "Oh? I frequently envy those like you and Elder Su. To be able to prepare so thoroughly to counter known threats is a potent advantage." If buttering her up made Elder Cai easier to influence, then I had no shame at all.

    "I suppose the advantages we possess are substantial. I suppose it is only fair that the arts martial excel over their more scholarly siblings in some matters." Elder Cai all but preened. "Why, I once faced a spear cultivator who relied heavily on a spell that allowed him to lengthen his weapon mid-thrust. He was so proud of how his trump card allowed him to strike at a distance, but he never did understand how such alteration effected the durability of his weapon. You should have seen the face he wore when he stabbed through my Earthbound Celestial Anchor Formation and his weapon snapped in two mid-thrust! From the look on his face, you would have thought it was his little spear that I''d snapped!"

    With a little prodding, Elder Cai was happy to regale me with more tales of her conquests as we walked. Apparently she''d been something of a hellion in her younger days, and fond of taking duels against martial cultivators and putting them in their place. And breaking their legs. And taking their rings. And on one memorable occasion, secretly placing a slaughter formation around the Ironheart Sect''s dojo, causing their disciples to begin killing each other. She''d previously shared harsh words with one of their elders, about the value of her discipline. The Ironheart''s martial focus was apparently all-consuming.

    The longer she spoke, the more I began to see exactly why she''d ended up in the Pathless Night.

    <hr>

    ''Good, you''re finally here." Meng Daiyu greeted us brusquely. "I want to advance into the inner temple today."

    The five of us gathered in the chamber Elder Su had claimed to set up her workshop. In addition to the young mistress and the three elders, Disciple Hao had joined us as Elder Shi''s representative.

    That left out only Li Ru, and Fang Xiao. I imagined the latter was expecting Elder Cai to use the fruits of her work to grant him access to the inner temple. I''d need to check in on the former, Fang Xiao''s continued presence around Su Li seemed to have prevented any further overt bullying, but I trusted the porcelain-armed inner disciple about as far as I could throw him.

    So, two or three hundred yards.

    Ah, I''d almost forgotten about Liang Tao. I hadn''t seen hide or hair of him lately, but he''d been on the ship.

    "The purpose of this meeting is to share what we''ve learned over the last day, and decide our next steps." Meng Daiyu continued. "I will begin. I took the trial that was named The Lonely Vigil. I was subjected to an illusion that left me believing my master had perished, and was required to fend off both mental and physical assaults while performing funerary rights for him. I believe that the test was intended to assess both filial piety and strength of mental discipline. It rewarded me with a technique that is suitable for my cultivation, but weaker than similar ones my master has already provided. Completing it has also removed the movement restrictions the central formation imposes, and given me the ability to open most doors in the outer sect, as the Glass Flowers have previously demonstrated."

    "Disciple Geng Ru undertook the Faith of Thieves." Elder Su said. She was hunched over a great brazier with an enclosed stone top, almost certainly a pill furnace. "He was vague in his description of it and I did not care to press him, but he suggested it required stealth, and rewarded humility and fidelity to sworn oaths."

    She pulled a thin bottle, almost a phial, from a pocket, placing it on the table between us. It was half full, the liquid within thick as syrup, but with the sheen and color of liquid mercury. It was also somehow translucent.

    "His reward was more interesting. He offered it to me without a negotiated price, and I gave him a variety of pills for it. After analysis, I believe it to be an internal body cultivation elixir suited for peak foundation establishment equivalent bodily cultivation. It appears to operate based on some principle related to light, and contains a variety of ingredients I have no been able to identify. I suspect many of the plants and natural treasures used to make it are no longer present in this land, lending credence to the idea that this complex is several thousand years old."

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Expectant eyes turned to me.

    "My disciple''s experience was similar." I said. "The Company Of Moonlight was intended to test altruism and possibly martial skill. Her reward was the same spiritual organs several of the Glass Flower disciples have been sporting, which appears to accelerate cultivating from the temple''s ambient qi."

    I left out Su Li''s claims of an unrelated moment of enlightenment. That wasn''t any of their business.

    "It''s also broken now." Elder Cai added.

    Meng Daiyu stared at her. Elder Cai shrugged. "I didn''t break it. Elder Hu did."

    Wow, just throwing me under the bus.

    Our young mistress turned her withering glare onto me.

    "I acquired the ability to advance deeper into the complex. The trial was an unfortunate but necessary casualty of the method I used."

    Meng Daiyu gave a long suffering sigh. "For once can you endeavor to notify the rest of us before you begin breaking things Elder Hu?"

    Ah. That tracked. Elder Hu did seem like the type.

    I didn''t say anything, but inclined my head. Superficial agreement seemed in character. Meng Daiyu''s brow furrowed, but she continued moving forward.

    "Is there anything else?"

    "I''ve almost cracked the formation." Elder Cai said. Her eyes passed over those present, and her mood seemed to dip a little when there was no real reaction to her words. "I should be able to grant arbitrary access permissions with another day or two of work. It would speed the process, if I had an expendable example to work with."

    Nobody offered to acquire her one.

    "Impressive work, Elder Cai." I added, drawing a smile.

    "I am becoming more certain that this formation was created by a cultivator even more advanced than our Sectmaster. Likely a true immortal, or even higher. It''s power and complexity are extraordinary, but it''s vulnerabilities speak clearly of a powerful cultivator operating outside of their true expertise." She continued.

    "Thank you Elder Cai. Since Elder Hu has already acquired access permissions, that simplifies the next steps. The two of us will enter first, the two of you will remain to protect our disciples in the event the Glass Flower elders try something foolish." Meng Daiyu said.

    "Are we certain we shouldn''t just neutralize the Glass Flowers now?" Elder Cai asked.

    "No. I spoke with my master again last night. The situation has not changed, and he does not desire the war with the Qin that killing their elders would bring. And holding them will limit our own ability to bring force to bear to explore the inner temple, if two of our core formation cultivators will be dedicated to suppressing them. If they start the conflict, or we find something worth a war, he will dispatch Elder Xin, Elder Li, and Daoist Protean Flesh to reinforce us, but that will put us on a clock. We will have less than a week before the Qin musters sufficient force to capture or expel us, and he is unwilling to fight Qin Longwei over this matter."

    "With the right formation, it would only take one Elder to hold their entire expedition." Elder Cai replied mulishly. "They all use yin methods. A single Sunfire Cage or Celestial Yang Shackles with enough power behind it would handle them all."

    Meng Daiyu ignored her.

    "Are there any further questions?"

    "Should we forbid further disciples from attempting the trials?" Disciple Hao asked, her voice a quiet rasp. "We''ve had poor results since the first three success, four failures for one additional success."

    Elder Su laughed brightly in response.

    "Your master is just upset they''re dying but we''re not getting the bodies. No, it''s their choice. They sold their deaths to your mountain, not their lives."

    "Elder Su is correct. Spread the information. Inform the trusted Cai will have a workaround soon. But this is no nursery, they may wager their lives as they wish." Meng Daiyu agreed.

    "Very well." Disciple Hao didn''t appear particularly put out.

    "I find it more than a little strange, that the trials do not disgorge those who fail." I said. "I rather doubt that was the original intention behind them. The virtues the trials select for suggest this was either an orthodox sect, or a religious organization. Killing those who fail out of hand does not fit with that."

    "A good point." Elder Cai agreed. "I''ll take a look at the trial you broke. Perhaps I can find out what exactly it''s doing with the bodies."

    "Is that all?" Meng Daiyu asked impatiently.

    "Not a question." Elder Su said. "I haven''t found access to those gardens we saw from outside yet. If you find a way in, I''ll pay well. Don''t attempt cuttings if there''s any other choice, many of the most valuable plants required very specialized expertise to harvest, and some of these may well border upon extinction."

    "Thank you Elder Su. Very well, Elder Hu, with me."

    I followed as Meng Daiyu swept out of the chamber.

    Disciples of both sects fled our wake as we moved towards the blinding glow of the formation''s boundary. I had no further business before we moved deeper, I''d passed Su Li''s treasure to Fang Xiao before attempting the trial. She''d been left with instructions to consolidate her gains and recover her qi, to wait for me before doing anything else. With Elder Cai and I on friendly terms, I had no doubt Fang Xiao would keep her safe.

    "When we return, you will say nothing of what you saw without my permission." The young mistress said abruptly.

    "Very well." I agreed easily.

    I would keep my word if it made sense. Break it if it did not. As far as I was concerned, the only person I truly owed something to here was Su Li. The Sectmaster had been quite insistent Meng Daiyu had to be kept alive, but his silence about obeying her spoke volumes.

    As we passed through the long hall, I reviewed my objectives in my head. The first priority was information. I doubted I''d find a cultivation manual that could help me understand Elder Hu''s method. But some actual sword techniques, beyond the dribs I''d stumbled upon accidentally or reinvented from first principles, would be a colossal benefit. Second was the ''terminals'' the Ghost Immortal had mentioned. It was an odd phrasing, suggesting they were access points to something larger. Whether that was information, or the ability to control the great formation, they would be invaluable on their own, even without allowing me further communication with the Ghost.

    Third was a better weapon. Elder Hu''s sword was incredibly durable. It required no maintenance or sharpening no matter what abuse I put it through, or how many cliffsides I cut. But as far as I could tell, it had no special powers or secrets. Elder Hu might not have needed to rely on petty tricks, but I was not above them.

    Anything else was a distant fourth. I had a storage ring, so I would loot anything that wasn''t nailed down, and anything I could cut out of the floor, if it wasn''t too large. At least when Meng Daiyu wasn''t looking. But I would need an unfathomable amount of wealth to change my circumstances through that alone, and I couldn''t advance my cultivation with it unless I somehow got access to Elder Hu''s memories, or took the risk of a second cultivation base.

    In minutes, the two of us reached the edge of the formation. The place where space bent and became unreliable. As we stepped forward into the light so brilliant it washed away even the cobblestones beneath our feet, the respectful distance disciples had given us gave way to utter isolation.

    The young mistress and I walked side by side in a sea of white, the only two figures in the world. The dull shuffling of slippers against stone was the only indication the world around us still lingered at all.

    "Why did you choose her?" Meng Daiyu asked, breaking the silence.

    "Her?"

    "Your disciple. I''ve watched you continually decline students for almost thirty years, when you allowed them to speak the question in the first place. Su Li''s advancement beneath your tutelage has been impressive, two small stages in as many months. But anyone could achieve that, in qi condensation with sufficient resources and a decent teacher. Her talent with the sword is unremarkable, and her cultivation shares little with yours."

    I stared at the young mistress. Where was this coming from?

    "It is not my sword that I sought to pass down." I finally answered.

    "Hmm." Meng Daiyu hummed noncommittally. "She is yet young. I suppose I shall patiently wait, to see what virtues she shall exhibit. Hao Yue and Fang Xiao are fine enough cultivators, but I do so long for a rival worth the name among the younger generation. It is a true pity, that you and Elder Xin refused to take disciples for so very long. Perhaps I shall do as my father did, and look to the blood of the dragon."

 Chapter 46 - The Graves of Our Betters

    As we emerged into the inner core of the dead sect, the first thing I noticed was the hatred. The ground beneath our feet hated our weight. The stagnant air hated us for having the temerity to disturb it''s long slumber. A thousand formless eyes settled upon us, wishing us every malice under the sun.

    I shivered. My hand shook, as I clutched at my sword.

    "Such resentment." Meng Daiyu murmured. "I see why this place was sealed away. The very air lusts for our death."

    I didn''t answer. What could you even say, in the face of something like this. It was like a lesser, but far more pervasive, form of the aura I''d felt from our sect''s void-shattering cultivators. Something that transcended mere influence and stained the world around it, enduring even after it''s source was long gone. How many had died, to produce it?

    I took a deep breath and clenched my jaw. Stomach tight, chest out, back straight. I repeated the old mantra one of my wrestling coaches had drilled into us before our first tournament. You can feel fear. You can''t show it.

    Meng Daiyu saw my face, and steeled her own.

    "Let''s go." She commanded.

    I obeyed, following behind her. The white light of the formation cast eerie shadows as it lit us from behind, rapidly fading as we passed beyond the spatial barrier. The massive tunnel continued seamlessly as we exited the barrier, except that there were no more side halls and chambers, only a single path forward. We advanced at a fast walk, a slow run for mortals.

    Scarcely a few hundred yards out, the great stone hallway simply ended.

    "It appears Elder Cai was correct." I said. "We stand among the graves of our betters."

    The far end of the hall opened upon a great abyss. Forget the Pathless Night, most of Xianyang, the Qin''s capital, could have fit within it. The void was not merely larger than the mountain we''d entered, it dwarfed it by a factor of dozens. The ground below, if it existed at all, was beyond even a cultivator''s sight.

    "Ten Thousand Hells." Meng Daiyu swore. "The Glass Flowers have been holding out on us. No wonder they''re willing to defy the Qin for this."

    Miles out, dozens of peaks of varying sizes floated in the void. They varied in size from full mountains to thin shards of stone that could support only a single building. All of them slowly orbit around a single central peak, an inverted mountain with a towering pagoda rising from it''s flattened apex.

    Far above, at the top of the cavern, a great white jade the size of a city block cast false moonlight down upon the inner sect. Or, a jade that had clearly once been white. Now, it was stained with an oily red sheen, it''s moonlight tinged with blood.

    "Enough gawking. With me."

    Meng Daiyu leapt out into the abyss, soaring through the sky weightlessly. I drew my sword and followed, holding it in one hand and using the strength of my arm to support myself as it flew. It was ungainly, but it was more dignified than risking a fall or holding the blade above my head like a pull-up bar.

    I easily matched the pace Meng Daiyu set as we hurtled through the abyss towards the peak she''d chosen.

    We landed gently, kicking up a wispy cloud of dust. The first slippers to set foot upon the narrow walkway in thousands of years. Our eyes met, and Meng Daiyu pointed towards one of the buildings. I stepped forward, taking point as we silently stalked across the dead walkway. It ended in a courtyard, shining golden hinges the only trace of where a wooden gate had once bared entry, now long since rotted away.

    The courtyard had held a garden once, but it had not weathered the ceaseless years well. Dusty depressions marked where ponds had evaporated away, leafless trunks, bleached white as bone, the only trace of vegetation.

    Then, there were the bodies. Six of them, as decayed as the rest of the courtyard. Their garments white rags, what little flesh that remained reduced to thin lines of jerky-like sinew. But still far better preserved than any corpse should be, after that long. Two of them sat, leaning back against the stone wall of the courtyard. A pose no body that old should be sturdy enough to maintain.

    I caught the young mistress''s eyes, point at one of the bodies, and flicked my sword. She nodded back.

    Zombie rules then. Head and heart.

    With a flourish of my hand, I set the blade aloft, then fired it like a bullet. It pierced right through the skull, then plowed further forward. As the blade buried itself fully in the wall, the narrow crossguard of my jian completely pulped what remained of the corpse''s head.

    For a long moment the sound of metal impacting bone hung in the air.

    Then a body twitched, and we surged into motion. Even as I recalled my sword, I charged one of the prone corpses. I stomped, pulping it''s ribcage, then kicked, sending the head flying. The scratching of bone against bone sounded out behind me, and I lashed out blindly as I spun and retreated at once. Bones flew, effortlessly severed. The corpse continued it''s charge heedlessly, it''s remaining arm extended to gouge. Three quick swipes reduced it to a pile of bone fragments.

    I turned to the young mistress, and saw she needed no assistance.

    Meng Daiyu was poetry in motion, a graceful contrast to my simple, efficient, brutality. With a twist of her hand, a fan appeared. She swept it upwards, leaving a billowing trail of shadow behind that fouled the charge of the skeletons. A quick hop sent her slowly floating backwards, lighter than air. As the skeletons struggled with the semi-material darkness, flailing as if swimming through air, the young mistress swung her other hand forward and a skull exploded.

    I watched as she retracted some sort of meteor hammer, a heavy leaf-bladed spearhead attached to a thin cord. It looked like an awkward weapon to wield with one hand, but as she made two further swipes, I saw the cord extended up the sleeve of her robe, and seemed to lengthen and shorten on it''s own to fit her needs.

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    In seconds, five of the moving corpses had been reduced to rubble. The sixth angrily flopped towards Meng Daiyu. Down two legs and one and a half arms, it''s progress was limited.

    I bent down before it.

    "Are you capable of speech?" I asked quietly.

    The skeleton flailed at me, it''s jaw flapping wildly, unrestrained by tendon or sinew.

    "I see."

    I raised my sword to finish it off.

    "Wait. Restrain that one down for me. Use the rocks." Meng Daiyu said.

    I obeyed.

    I suppressed a laugh, as I realized what was going on. She didn''t want to dirty her robes. A pair of heavy stones from the edge of a dried pool left the thing firmly pinned in place.

    I turned to the young mistress, awaiting further orders.

    "So weak." She mused, slowly drawing a series of triangular flags from her storage ring. "It allowed them to disguise themselves, but what use is an ambush when their strength is so lacking? Even the Glass Flowers would scarcely be slowed be such opposition."

    "There must be greater ones further in." I mused. "A formation like this, the architecture of the sect, there''s no way cultivators so weak could have built it."

    "Their elders might all have perished elsewhere. Or resisted whatever transformed these weaklings into mindless beasts."

    "That strikes me as unlikely." I said dryly. I already knew that at least one lingered still after all, albeit in a completely different league from these things. Skeletons? Revenants? Jiangshi? I wanted to ask what exactly they were, but I should probably already know.

    "Leave me, and find out. I do not require your protection at this time." The young mistress paused, thinking. "We have never seen eye to eye. But this is an opportunity for both of us. One that will be greatly diminished, if we call in other elders. Elder Xin in particular will compete for the very same sorts of benefits the two of us seek."

    "You have Elder Liang''s trinket with you?" I''d given her one of my spare sets of threads immediately after we''d arrived, tying it around my upper bicep next to Su Li''s. The remaining 48 I kept in my ring, checking them every evening. I really hoped Elder Fan''s alleged secret disciple wasn''t among the expedition. If he started offing the Glass Flowers, there was no way we''d be able to avoid conflict. A secret that widely known couldn''t be suppressed.

    "Yes. And enough live-saving treasures to hold off a trio of nascent soul cultivators for enough time to burn a stick of incense in my master''s honor. My master is enough of a mother-hen, it''s embarrassing for a Daoist of his stature. Do refrain from doing the same."

    "Your master would be displeased, if I were to allow you to be slain."

    "And I would be displeased to die horribly and be condemned to wander this accursed place as a hungry ghost." Meng Daiyu replied icily. "I will call for you with the talisman if I have need of your sword."

    She fingered the formation flags in her hand idly. She was clearly waiting for me to leave before planting them.

    "Very well."

    I turned and left without another word, rising into the air. Splitting up worked just fine for me, and she wasn''t wrong about not needing my protection. Meng Daiyu''s cultivation was easily equal to Elder Cai''s, somewhere around the midpoint of core formation.

    I drew a second sword from my ring as I ascended out of visual range. Holding what was effectively a one-armed iron cross was doable for me, but far from pleasant. Balancing atop my sword still felt awkward, and I much preferred flying with one blade in each hand. It let me use both my muscles and qi to steer, giving me far more stability.

    But it looked odd, given that Elder Hu had apparently usually carried but one blade, so I refrained.

    From a distance, there was little to distinguish the sect''s mountains from each other, behind size and level of population.

    I was looking for an armory, library, or treasure pavilion foremost. Not the pagoda in the center, that all but screamed trap to me. I picked a small mountain in the middle ring, with a single large building upon it. That should be either a sect facility or someone important''s complex.

    As I approached, I pulled back and upwards, slowing myself as much as I could. Then I pulled my qi tight, surrendering to momentum. I landed with a dull thud, crouching low to absorb the impact.

    My heart beat faster in my chest, sending blood rushing through me. The fear I knew I should be feeling was replaced by something else, a focus so sharp it was almost painful.

    It was strange. I should have felt safer alone. No risk of exposing myself. But the emptiness and malevolence of this place were heavy, daunting. It was even worse alone.

    This building had no courtyard. Three stories, a dozen rooms per story, with a thin balcony wrapping around it all. Maximum capacity of a few hundred. My eyes swept over it all. No visible corpses, or other signs of life. I skipped the front door, simply leaping to the second floor. One sword returned to the ring to free a hand.

    The windows had no glass, only shutters. Their ties had long since rotted. I opened one, wincing at the creak, and crept inside.

    To my dismay, the room was empty. Not a library or armory then.

    Attacking one corpse had woken all of the ones in the courtyard. But they were no real threat to me, even in numbers. It was their superiors I was worried about.

    So I settled on moving about as stealthily as I could. I was confident in my ability to one-shot anything beneath nascent soul, if I got the drop on it.

    I hated this. The very air felt foul, stagnant and filled with dust so thick it hung and glistened where direct light fell. I tried not to think about what the dust was made of.

    I cleared rooms one after another. Most were near empty. The ones that weren''t usually featured two or three bodies, surrounded by scraps of long rotten furniture. I gave them a wide berth, checking for valuables from a distance. I saw little, beyond pitted swords and moth-eaten robes.

    No storage rings, no obvious signs of death.

    Then, in the fourteenth room, I found the elder.

    The body was as desiccated as any other I''d seen, but their robes had endured where flesh did not. They were opalescent, shining an eerie pink in the bloody moonlight. On it''s right hand, it bore three plain rings.

    But that wasn''t what drew my eye. A flat bowl of white jade sat before the corpse. Gentle light emanated from it, pure white light. One of the terminals the Ghost Immortal had mentioned perhaps? Even if not, it had survived hundreds of years without any visible signs of suffering from the corruption that had destroyed the rest of this place. The rings might be empty, or worth a fortune, I wouldn''t know until I searched them. The bowl though, that had to be something.

    Slowly, I crept round the corpse. I''d come too far to chicken out now. We had one day, perhaps two, before this place became a free-for-all for every cultivator present who could fly. Under a week before others began arriving, once word leaked of what we found. Meng Daiyu wasn''t wrong, these next few days were a crucial opportunity for the front-runners to grab as much as they could.

    I remembered what I''d told Su Li months ago. If you always did what you''ve always done, you''ll always get what you''ve always gotten.

    It was time to stop treading water.

    I raised my sword, bereft of intent. I lined up the cut. Enter the top of the skull, split the ribcage through where the heart would have rested, all the way to the hip.

    I swung. My intent flared into life, shrouding my blade in a steel-grey aura that drank in the bloody light.

    The corpse threw itself forward in a desperate roll. My swing clipped it, splitting it''s robe and leaving a deep cut in it''s back.

    Fuck.

    I charged, thrusting for the head. I had to end this quickly.

    Thunder echoed in the enclosed space, and an invisible force threw me back. The walls that had stood for a thousand years collapsed under the pressure, leaving the side of the house exposed to the elements.

    The dead elder stood, empty eye sockets tracking me as I rose from the rubble.

    I drew a second sword from my ring once more, setting it floating behind my shoulder.

    Behind the corpse, the air shifted. Something coalesced, and a pair of red eyes opened in the air. Formless hands, visible only as distortions, clasped it''s shoulders.

    A mad thought struck me. How doomed would I be, if it were I who needed to call for the young mistresses aid?

    A ghostly mouth coalesced, opening to speak. My flying sword shot forward, and I followed close behind it.

 Chapter 47 - Dancing With The Dead

    The revenant leaned back, dodging the sword I''d sent rocketing toward it by a hair. Empty eye sockets tracked me as I approached, sword held low.

    The dozen feet between us disappeared in two heartbeats, as I ran as fast as I could without pushing myself airborne. That was all the time it took for the ghost clinging to its back to fully materialize. Its eyes were the same red as the tainted light, but the rest of it was colorless. Arms of glass-like distortion held tenderly to the cultivator''s skeleton, clinging to it like a child to its mother''s back.

    Qi poured out from it, pressing back against the influence of my own aura. I felt my connection to the sword I''d launch cut off, its obstructing influence greatly reducing the range of my control. As its power pressed against mine, I felt something familiar. The weighty sense of realness that I associated with other nascent soul cultivators, like Elder Shi and Elder Xin. My eyes widened, as I realized that the spirit atop its back had to be the very nascent soul the stage had been named for.

    Then we closed once more to melee range, and there was no more time for thought. I led with my sword, throwing out quick slashes with my arm at full extension. The revenant circled around me, managing the range between us with the skill of a proper martial artist. It was as fast as me. Likely near as strong. Despite its appearance, its footwork was excellent. Better than mine by such a large margin I couldn''t judge it.

    I chased as it retreated, watching as its legs dipped and swung in well practiced motions. Its skeletal arms were held close, one always chambered for a punch or palm strike.

    I swung for its extremities. It danced back, then threw a kick at my head I dropped to my knees to avoid.

    It charged, a punch aimed for my head. The air whistled in its wake from the sheer speed and violence of it. I swung for the elbow, and the skeleton twisted on the spot, its back leg whipping out like Meng Daiyu''s rope dart.

    I gritted my teeth and charged. The heel-bone struck me across the jaw with enough force to shatter stone. The world narrowed, as I focused on nothing except the angle of my sword, ensuring it pierced the revenant, and not me.

    The dead cultivator twisted with inhuman grace, but the target was too big, too close.

    The nascent soul roared. I flinched, as I heard, felt, its pain and anguish with something deeper than ears. Blind anguish and a hunger that could never be satisfied. A dirge for all the world, a moment of desperate hate stretched into eternity.

    A skeletal palm crashed into my stomach, bone striking flesh with a noise like a gunshot. Blood beaded where its fingers pierced the skin of my stomach.

    I moved to gut it back, but fingers as unyielding as iron caught my sword hand by the wrist. Its other hand reached out for my throat. I caught it with my left hand, pushing back trying to pin the hand against its chest.

    I found myself face to face with the spirit riding atop its back. Our eyes locked. I found myself searching for any hint of intelligence in those glowing red lights it had in place of eyes.

    Then the nascent soul reached out with one hand, and clawed at my eyes. Visually, its fingers had all the substance of a heat haze, but that didn''t stop its nails from cutting right through my skin. It missed my eyes by inches, slicing deep into my forehead. Blood poured freely. Forehead wounds were always bleeders.

    "Motherfucker!" The curse just slipped out.

    I ducked my head, closing my eyes on reflex. Pressing it close to the revenant''s chest kept the ghost''s hands farther from my eyes. I couldn''t get an angle to stab the damn thing. It pulled my sword down and to the side, and I let it. I stepped in as it did, forcing it to awkwardly bend the arm I gripped.

    I let go, dropping my free hand low. My ring was on my left hand. I materialized a dagger. With its right arm trapped between my chest and its ribs, it wasn''t fast enough to catch me before I jammed the steel well into its ribcage.

    My blade cut effortlessly through bone, but my arm could only press so far. I tried to draw back, stabbing had been the wrong move, there was nothing vital to hit, I needed to slice a limb off.

    Without warning, another thunderclap threw me back. It felt like the air had become water, a wave of pressure that sent me tumbling like a child bowled over by a wave. It didn''t hurt, it was nothing compared to the revenant''s claws, but it took a single second for me to stand again. An eternity in a fight like this.

    I charged again, but I was too slow. The revenant leapt, becoming airborne. My knife was still embedded up to the hilt in its side, jammed into the desiccated remains of its organs.

    I could feel it now, track its motions without looking. At least I''d gotten something out of that exchange.

    I leapt, feeling droplets of blood fly off my face from the sheer speed of the jump. A second sword leapt to my hand as I gave chase.

    Had I bitten off more than I could chew? No. No, it didn''t matter. I had to win. I had the fundamental advantage of a sword cultivator, a peerless offense. I just needed one true hit.

    Clutching at my weapons like the reins of an invisible dragon, I chased the revenant. My flight was awkward, my method crude, compared to however proper sword cultivators flew. But if nothing else, it was fast. I closed in a moment, but the revenant jerked to the side as I reached it. My momentum carried me far past it, but when I came around for another pass, swords wide, it dropped down instead. In the moment it took me to reorient myself to an enemy beneath me, something hit me.

    Where the last wave of pressure had been diffuse, like a wave, this one was a power washer tight jet the size of a golf ball. It hit me across the chest, sending me into a wild spin even as it gouged a chunk off my torso the size of a child''s fist. My vision flashed white, ears ringing dully. I lost my second sword at some point.

    As my flight stabilized, I looked up, and saw the revenant chambering a punch. The air shuddered around it. My sword traced a long-practiced pattern, a two handed thrust.

    "Stormbreaker." I murmured through bloody lips. It just felt right, to say the name.

    My storm met the revenant''s shockwave with an unearthly howl. The air screamed like metal being torn apart. The sheer force of our clashing blows flattened the compound a hundred feet beneath us, kicking up the accumulated dust of centuries. It rose up around us in a great bowl.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    As I watched, panting, the revenant let itself dip lower. It descended into the dust storm, drawing back its qi. I followed suit. I didn''t know how intelligent this thing was. Its skilled movements and tactical planning were a sharp contrast with its wild, wordless, violence. It was almost like whoever they were in life had been hollowed out, leaving only martial skill and raw hatred.

    But it had made another mistake, and I wouldn''t waste this one. I didn''t need visibility. I knew where my dagger was.

    I slowly turned. My qi expanded, as if I were relying on my spiritual sense itself for detection. It could fly without using its aura I noted. I needed to learn how to do that, my current technique had no stealthy equivalent.

    Slowly, I drifted directly over the floating mountain. If this worked, I didn''t want to end up falling forever.

    The revenant accelerated, coming from my back-left. Closer. Faster.

    With half a second to go, I dropped. Another tight lance of pressure screamed through the space I''d occupied a moment ago.

    The revenant was dodging the moment I charged, rising out of range of my sword.

    "Mistake." I hissed.

    I ripped at my aura, pulling it towards me as violently as I could. For a fraction of a second, I lost all awareness of my surroundings, blind in the dust cloud. Then my fingers caught the edge of a robe, and pulled myself in, burying my sword in the revenant''s chest.

    Its nascent soul screamed again, but I held on desperately as we fell together.

    Deep in its body, my influence over the dagger buried in its chest was weak. But in the air, there was little to brace against, and the revenant had released its aura to hide itself. All I''d needed was to pull hard enough to foul its dodge.

    The nascent soul clawed at my back as we grappled, twisting through the air. Its glassy fingers dug deep furrows, tearing my robe to shreds. The revenant whipped back and forth beneath my grip, moving almost bonelessly despite being made of nothing but. My legs locked around it, cinching tight against its back. My knees clenched tight against its ribcage, its exposed spine too thin to really get hold of. Both its hands grabbed my right, trying to prevent me from finishing the cut.

    It blasted out the same wave of pressure, but with my legs locked around it, my free hand in a death-grip on its shoulder, it wasn''t enough to send me flying.

    I released my aura again, using my sword to drag us downward, overpowering its flight technique.

    The two of us landed in the remains of the revenant''s compound with a heavy crash. The force of the impact was nothing to us, compared to the blows we dealt each other.

    My sword rose slowly, even as the force my aura exerted upon it kept us pinned to the mountain. Half a dozen forces competed to move it, my arms and the revenants, its flight technique pulling up and my aura pushing down. It shuddered violently as I negotiated the bizarre physics problem to bring it into position.

    The nascent soul wailed, but I was ready for it this time. its song of rage and loss passed over me like water. Arms of bone and spirit alike pressed back against my forearms, struggling desperately to keep my blade from descending. Four arms joined against two.

    I smiled cruelly. Without its tricks, without any flesh, it simply wasn''t strong enough. I didn''t know what had created this wretched thing, but my head ached from its cries and blood slowly seeped from a dozen small wounds across my torso. My qi channels felt scraped raw, and I could almost feel my core, pressing against my heart like a dagger. Running so low, wounds I would normally shrug off felt more real.

    I enjoyed watching my sword slowly descend. It pressed against the nascent soul. For a moment, its skin held, stretching like rubber. I fed more and more qi into my sword. The blade''s edge grew starker, sharper. I pressed down with more than mere muscle, putting everything behind the blade. Waves rippled through the manifest soul''s glassy substance where my blade met it, visible only as patterns of opalescent light. It screamed, fear for once overtaking raise in its strange voice. Then the skin broke, and with a quiet pop, it dissipated.

    The revenant fell still, a corpse once more.

    Twice, I stabbed and then dragged. Split the skull in two, then the upper half of the torso on the other side. Zombie rules. With one more swipe, I removed its right hand, where the three storage rings rested. Gingerly, I placed it in a pocket. The upper half of my robe was torn to shreds, but I still had some pockets on the lower half. I wasn''t sure what would happen if I put a storage ring inside another, but I''d played enough Dungeons and Dragons I wasn''t about to experiment.

    Exhausted, I rolled off the corpse onto my back.

    Four figures floated above me. Two in white, two in black. It took me a moment to remember, that one of the Glass Flower elders wore black.

    Never a moment''s rest. Game face on.

    I slowly sat up, and smiled madly for my audience. Wide leering lips, exposed teeth. There was blood on my face, where the nascent soul had clawed at an eye. I stuck my tongue out, feeling for the rivulet. Tasted like blood. Some things were the same no matter what world you lived in.

    "Finally. A fight worth drawing my sword for." I said. I projected my voice just enough that the inner disciple probably strained to hear it. It echoed subtly, in the vast emptiness of the dead sect.

    I let the words hang in the air, staring at the three figures in white. The two elders, and the inner disciple who had met us at the gate.

    "Are you going to give me another?"

    My question hung in the air for a long moment, before the three figures in white fled. A few seconds later, Meng Daiyu left as well. I wondered how long they''d watched.

    I waited several minutes, before collapsing onto my back again. Everything hurt. My shoulders felt like they''d been dislocated and then popped back in several times, those high speed dodges pushed them to their limits. I considered a healing pill. Elder Hu''s ring had contained three that seemed to be of an appropriate level. Possessing that strange sense of weight and reality I associated with nascent soul level artifacts and cultivation.

    In the end, I opted against it. This wasn''t half bad enough to waste a limit resource. I simply lay there among the ruins for an hour, letting my core slowly refill my channels, and staunch my bleeding.

    The entire surface of the mountain was a wreck. Several of the other corpses had animated. I stumbled across most of them trapped within the ruined ruins, pinned down by a fallen beam or wall. Pinned or not, a single swing of Elder Hu''s sword ended them.

    I wasn''t sure how to feel. I had plenty of time to ruminate on it, as I slowly turned over the ruins of the complex. I''d taken down something in the same realm as me. But I couldn''t help but tally up all the places I''d gotten lucky in my head. The two opportunities for an easy kill I''d squandered. The fact that it turned out to be weaker than me, either because of its undead state, or simply by being somewhere earlier in the nascent soul stage. I should have scouted the entire place first, if there had been a second revenant on this level, I would have had no chance.

    I shook my head. I''d killed it. Or, put it to rest. I had healing pills and allies, it didn''t. I''d gotten lucky with its realm, but I wouldn''t get better at aerial mobility, or higher realm melee combat, without actually doing it. I couldn''t plan for every eventuality.

    But as the dust settled around me, I was alive, and it wasn''t. That was a victory.

    It was just that wandering alone through the shattered remains of a dead sect, feeling the formless hatred of the dead whose graves we were robbing, it was hard to celebrate.

    It took hours to find the bowl of white jade I''d done all this for. After my qi recovered, I''d felt its presence with my spiritual sense. Even from a distance, it felt like the great formation. The same sort of blend of lunar and spatial qi, with undertones I couldn''t place. Unfortunately it had been on the second of four floors, and swords were not ideal implements for digging.

    The work was slow and boring and I would have taken days of it over another fight like that.

    When I finally got my hands on the artifact, I took a risk and threw it into my storage ring, despite the undertones of spatial qi it emanated. If it controlled the formation, or let me contact the Ghost Immortal, it was worth the risk.

    My ring didn''t explode, so that was nice.

    That was enough exploration for one day. I didn''t like my chances trying random buildings at anything less than full strength. It was time to see if this bowl was what I hoped it was.

 Official Hiatus Announcement + 3 Chapters

    TLDWR: The story is on hiatus (Obviously), I have a new Xianxia story now up on Royal Road, and I posted the three Patreon chapters of TVDIGU after this note if you still want to read them. I plan to get back to TVDIGU eventually, but don''t know when. Hoping it''s in 2025, but no promises yet.

    As you have no doubt guessed from the months of radio silence, TVDIGU is officially on hiatus. I''ve been putting off officially announcing this. At first it was because I wasn''t certain I wouldn''t jump back in in a few weeks. Then it was probably because I don''t like disappointing people, and there were a lot more people to disappoint here than on the smaller places I post. I still can''t believe thousands of you follow this story.

    But, on to the good news.

    But, I''ve neither died nor given up on writing. For the last few months, I''ve been writing another Xianxia story (I still have no idea how this became my genre). After Black Myth: Wukong came out, I had the idea of a alcoholic monkey cultivator stuck in my head for a week. So I wrote 1 chapter to get it out of my system, while working on TVDIGU 45. Then I wrote 2 more chapters. Then four more. And then writing TVDIGU kinda fell by the wayside. And, well, here we are, with Between Beast and Buddha at chapter 26 and the end of book 1 in sight.

    You can find it here, if that sounds interesting to you: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/104317/between-beast-and-buddha-a-drunken-monkeys-journey</a>

    As for the future of TVDIGU:

    I don''t want to go into too much detail as to why I went on hiatus. Part of it is that pushing so hard to keep regular chapters while I was working a lot of hours really burned me out in a way that didn''t get better even after months of a more reasonable schedule. Part of it is that I''m a perfectionist at heart and this was my first writing project that was this long, with thousands of regular readers. There''s a lot that I would like to revisit and improve. Book one (Pre chapter 34ish) opened a lot of plot points and resolved few of them. I''d like to revisit the Elder Li conflict and give that an earlier resolution than what I had planned. The Meti chapter needs to be rewritten entirely, it''s just not very good. There''s also a fair degree of... call it tonal schizophrenia. A tension between some of the comedic and darker elements that I want to handle better. On top of that, book two has a tremendous number of parts in motion, and my outline needs a great deal of firming up before I''ll be confident I can finish it in a reasonable number of chapters without dropping any balls.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    All that goes to say I want to get back to TVDIGU eventually. But it''s pretty special to me, and I feel a lot of self imposed pressure to do right by the story I want to tell. I just don''t know when it will happen yet. I''ve been poking at it a bit, but Between Beast and Buddha is my current focus, and I don''t know if I''m going to move directly into a second book of that, return to TVDIGU, or fully flesh out one of the other concepts I''ve been working on.

    Anyway, since people have asked for them on other forums, and because me getting back into this will probably involve substantial edits, I posted the three TVDIGU chapters that were on Patreon after this note. They... Don''t not end on a cliffhanger. But they are more content, and the place they leave off is no more cliffhangery than where you were at before.

    Finally, I just wanna say thanks to all of you. Obviously there are no guarantees that stories people post for free on the internet will ever get completed. But I''ve been burned by as many abandoned works as any of you, and didn''t want to be someone who did the same. Whether you''re a lurker or commenter, or one of those psychopaths who doesn''t even use the follow button and just checks a bookmark every few months. You didn''t have to take a chance on this story, and I hope it was worth the time you spent reading it.

    Wishing all of you the best,

    Turniper

 Chapter 48 - Terminal

    After I finally found the bowl, I considered checking in with the young mistress. But the more I worked over the various ways that conversation might play out in my mind, the less I liked it. Meng Daiyu just acted too familiarly with me compared to the other elders for me to want to risk any more conversations than I had to. She seemed to treat me like a very distant martial uncle, someone who''d acted as her dao protector before, but that she didn''t particularly care to interact with.

    She''d directly told me to bugger off, wanting to keep whatever she was doing with that revenant and the formation flags to herself. My money was on some sort of absorption technique. Elder Shi''s disciples seemed far more the sort to collect undead like Pokemon. The young mistress seemed to expect me to fulfill the letter of my duties while being a minor recalcitrant nuisance to her in particular, and material property in general, and I saw no reason not to do exactly that. If she needed me, she had one of Elder Liang''s talismans.

    I suspected that if anything, blowing up a trial formation and breaking some buildings had reinforced my cover with her.

    Instead, I opted to find an unoccupied building. It wasn''t that hard. I picked out some of the smallest little floating outcroppings orbiting around the larger islands, the ones with modest looking single room buildings atop them. It only took two tries to find one that was completely empty, not a single ominous looking corpse lying around waiting to spring into unlife. Even for how sparsely populated many sects were, this place was not filled with anywhere near as many bodies as it should have had occupants.

    There were so many unknowns still here, but I was starting to build a picture. To me, it looked like this place had already been decimated, before whatever horror turned it into a living tomb. A war or other hardship greatly reduced their population, culled their higher order cultivators. Then they retreated into this formation as a final measure of defense, fully isolating themselves from the outside world. Only to for it to fail horribly, the seeds of their doom already planted within. Some sort of curse or infiltrator perhaps, that the weakened sect didn''t have the resources to detect or defeat.

    The one glaring flaw I saw with that theory was why they didn''t give up and bring down the barrier at some point. Surely, as the bodies started mounting, someone with authority would have considered whether it was better to risk the danger without than whatever hell the sect had descended into?

    There wasn''t much point to this speculation. Hopefully I would have first hand answers soon.

    I paused, as I wiped the slowly drying blood from my face with a half-detached sleeve. Perhaps I should treat the Ghost Immortal with a little more caution. They were clearly positioning themselves as the last remnant of the lunar sect. But if they had some level of access to the memories of anyone who had recently used the formation, they could just as easily have been the very thing that murdered them.

    Most damningly, it clearly explained why they wouldn''t have lowered the barrier. If the threat had usurped control of the formation, they wouldn''t have had the option.

    I wiped the drying blood off my face with a sleeve. This robe was yet another write-off. Still, I had hundreds. It would be nice to have clothing that would survive a fight though, or better yet, real armor. I''d thrown the scraps of that opalescent robe in my ring, but I''d put enough rents in it that it would never serve as a full garment again.

    Fully clothed and slightly less disheveled, I pondered the choice before me. Bowl, or rings?

    Rings. The safer choice.

    One at a time, I passed qi through them. Two of the rings yielded up their contents without resistance. The third felt like a solid knot to my qi. It wasn''t a rock. There were places, that a sufficiently tight stream of qi could be pressed, like the folds of a knot. But no matter how I manipulated it, where I put pressure, it didn''t shift or yield.

    I set the third ring aside, and focused on the other two. If there was a trick to instantly understanding the contents of a storage ring, I didn''t know it. Instead, I simply removed items as I found them, categorizing them by the way they felt to my qi-sense, then stored them anew and tried to avoid pulling the same thing out twice.

    It wasn''t the fastest process, but I quickly began sorting things into categories. There was plenty of clothing, robes in mostly shades of white and blue. Few were of particular quality, but I saw more embroidery than I did from most modern sects. They felt fragile to my hands though, as if they were ready to fall apart. A few weapons. Two swords, a war-fan with iron-ribbing, and a ornate quarterstaff of ivory wood that looked valuable.

    The most interesting thing, wasn''t what I found, but what I didn''t. A complete absence of almost anything I would consider a consumable. No food. Not a single spirit stone. Only a few weak paper talismans of unknown purpose, even more degraded than the robes.

    A few manuals, but they were in the same condition as the talismans, barely readable. An effect of the ambient curse? Or just a weaker protection against the passage of time than my ring?

    I set them aside. The quarterstaff and the ring with security features should be worth something at least.

    They were another point in favor of a long siege though. The cultivators here had eventually consumed every spirit stone they had trying to hold on. Or, their maddened senior had stolen them and put them all in her ring.

    I pulled out the bowl, gently enveloping in qi. It felt pure, almost holy. I wasn''t even sure what that meant; I''d never been a religious man. I''d been raised too catholic, and bounced backward in the opposite direction as a young man. But the bowl felt solemn. Like an well kept grave on an untouched mountain. It''s qi was tightly contained, but the untainted light it emanated stood out like a beacon. It pressed back against the bloody light seeping in through the broken windows.

    I felt a tension I''d barely noticed slowly ease. Suddenly the idea that the Ghost Immortal was behind the death of the sect seemed just a little less plausible, a little more of a reach. The idea of killing the Glass Flowers here to simplify the situation a little less tempting. The air here wasn''t just foul, whatever had corrupted the sect wasn''t gone yet.

    I''d have to pull the young mistress out before anything unfortunate happened. It explained why the Glass Flower elders kept stepping out for breathers.

    I poured qi into the bowl. Not a great deal of it, I was already running low. The bowl drank it in, then characters flashed across the surface.

    Unrecognized

    I smiled. That was something I could work with. This had to be the terminal. Some sort of qi-computer, or qi-control panel. The Ghost Immortal had been confident I should be able to reach them through it. That meant it couldn''t be completely locked down to authorized users only. I pushed in more qi, but resisted letting the device drink it in. The little thread of power wavered, pulled in two directions at once. Feeling around, I poked at the internals.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The bowls internals felt sharp and cold, ticking and rotating like invisible clockwork. Clean hard logic that threatened to slice my little thread of qi if it moved in a way that contravened them. I followed them, the thread taking mind-bending turns in accordance with rules I didn''t understand, only felt. Eventually, I found something else. A small knot of qi that was neither mine, nor the unfeeling light of the terminal. The previous user?

    I stabbed it. Treating my power like a blade hadn''t served me wrong so far. A gentle upward sweep broke something vital, and the knot fell apart.

    New characters flowed across the screen.

    Creating New Session

    I flailed blindly, trying to tie the small thread of qi my qi into a stable form like the previous user. Like the revenant I''d put down. The first two attempts dissipated, before I had an epiphany. I''d created stable structures of qi before, hadn''t I? They''d just threatened to kill me.

    It was far trickier to tie a knot with external qi. The stuff liked to knot, but external qi had a sort of impetus to spread out in every direction, like ink across a page. My attempts to create one in the air around me failed, so I resorted to trying it within the bowl. It was surprisingly intuitive. I just repeated one of the many different cycling patterns I''d already discarded as a failure. A simple figure eight, then a line through both center loops.

    ''Shapes with a line cutting through them'' had been a whole category I''d tried for brute forcing a cultivation method. They''d all ended in violent expulsions of blood and qi.

    Here though, it worked exactly as I''d hoped. The moment the cross line reconnected with the figure eight, the whole thing looped back on itself. It accelerated, every line and curve shortening as the qi moved faster. The whole thing cinched itself shut even as I cut the flow of power, forming an ugly sort of mass that at least maintained it''s form.

    More characters began flowing across the surface of the bowl, rapidly filling the small space and disappearing off the screen of liquid light. Messages ever so familiar, yet drastically different.

    New User Registered

    Session Created

    Seeking Unity

    Connection Established

    Warning - Non-Standard External Dharma Found

    External Connection Registered - Transferring Session

    User ''Anchor'' is Now Session Host

    User ''Anchor'' has changed their name to ''The Last Rabbit''

    Space Configured

    Initializing Space

    The white light pouring from the bowl shifted, becoming more opaque. It coated the walls, formed translucent panes across the empty windows. The surface of the bowl bubbled, black characters falling and fading as it''s surfaced bulged outwards. The watery light popped, and a star rose from beneath the surface.

    The star flashed, and I was suddenly no longer alone. The figure before me was as translucent as the new windows, clearly an illusion.

    "I see you''re not wearing the young mistress''s face anymore." I said.

    "The dreaming chambers have a limited capacity for novel visualization. They pull almost entirely from the memories of the subject within, and choose most of their content before spinning up the illusionary domain. I''m sure one of my sisters could have done better, but I''m no mistress of formations."

    She frowned, brow furrowing. She gave a single sad little laugh, like the last leaf falling from an autumn tree.

    "Well, if any of them still lived."

    We fell into silence at that. I''d had a plan for this conversation, but she''d completely sidetracked it. I had no idea what to say to that.

    I stood up from the bowl, inspecting the woman standing before me. The alleged immortal, the only known survivor of this place. She was short, for a powerful cultivator. Five foot eight perhaps, coming up roughly to my chin. Instead of a Daoist''s robes she wore a tunic and pants, a martial artist''s unform. Her white hair was cropped short, with a single stark black streak across the bangs. Not a trace of power emanated from her. Either she was far beyond my ability to sense, or more likely this was a simple visual and audio illusion, with no substance at all.

    She looked more like a disciple than an immortal. Then our eyes met, and I shivered. Ink black sclera, with veins the shone like stars. Her pupils were far off center. It took me a moment to parse the inhuman appearance, to realize that her iris wasn''t an iris at all, but an image of the current phase of the moon. A waning gibbous.

    I looked away first.

    "So, who exactly are you?" She asked.

    "I should be asking you that question." I countered.

    "Would my name even mean anything to you? How long has it been now, that we''ve been sealed? A millennia? Two? I''ve no doubt Heaven scrubbed every trace of us from history. They''re good at that."

    The words spilled out of her in a flood, a dam broken. I remained silent, letting her speak.

    "I''ve had a lot of names over the years. Ye Qing. The Loyal Rabbit. The Keeper of Solace. Chang Xin. The Sage of Fierce Joy."

    None of those meant anything to me. The mention of Chang and rabbit didn''t escape me though. It was far too early, to inquire about how her history matched up with the mythology I knew.

    "I am the sole surviving member of the Lunar Solace Sect. She who broke herself in battle against the First Hound of Heaven, and remained behind when her sisters marched to war against the greatest of tyrants."

    She grew more agitated as she spoke, pacing tight circles around the small room.

    "The disciple who watched from afar as her mistress fought to break the order of the world and lost. The failure who gave everything and yet could not even protect her youngest sisters. Who watched helplessly as they fell to corruption, denied even the release of true death. That is who I am." She hissed, turning to face me once more. "I''ve seen the memories of your generation. The world you remember looks nothing like theirs. You are not powerful enough to have endured from a higher era. Now tell me, who is it that stands before me?"

    I froze. I''d wanted to avoid this. Steer the conversation away from my own origins, focus on what we might do for each other. But she''d offered me so much about herself. To give her the truth would be to give her the means to destroy me. But, I already had what I needed to take her with me. I had no doubt the real elders of the Pathless Night would leap at the chance to bind a bodiless and weakened immortal to their service.

    She''d introduced herself as a heroic figure, but opposed to Heaven. She already knew there was something abnormal about me.

    "I''m an imposter." I said simply. "By some strange accident of fate I do not understand, I took the form and position of Elder Hu Xin of the Pathless Night Sect."

    She stared blankly at me.

    I knelt, then pressed my head to the floor. Pride was a weakness I could not afford. If I was going to do this, make vulnerability my angle, I would give it all I had. And I had no shortage of it.

    "What are you-"

    "I have no idea what I''m doing." The desperation in my voice was far from feigned.

    "You don''t need to-"

    "Please help me." I cut her off. "Please help me protect those who have put their faith in me. Help me ensure my fraudulent teachings don''t cripple their cultivation. Help me protect them from the wrath of the sect when I''m discovered."

    I waited a beat, letting her mind draw the inevitable parallel with her own sisters. It was low, but I was not above it.

    "I''ll do-"

    "Enough." This time I was the one cut off. Her voice wasn''t angry though. The earlier edge had left, replaced with a quiet exhaustion. "Rise."

    I stood up. I''d been about to promise her the moon, swear to do anything to help her recover her strength. But that would have been a lie, and I didn''t mind being cut off before I uttered it. I wanted to help her, but blind faith was a luxury I couldn''t afford with stakes like these. A choice between me and her, or Su Li and her, was no choice at all.

    "When I was young, I had a bad habit of rushing headlong into every conflict. Always the first to stand against evil. I brought a great deal of trouble to my lady''s feet in the process. I''d like to think I''ve matured a little in the intervening years. My sisters would have disagreed."

    She gave that sad smile again.

    "But then, they''re hardly in a position to talk. They chose the bleakest mountain of all to plant their banners upon."

    "Let''s begin again." She said. "With a little less intensity. I am the Immortal Ye Qing, and I would like you to help me free myself from the prison I forged in a futile effort to protect my sisters."

    "I am Hu Xin." I said, meaning it. My other name was dead, so long as I needed to keep living this one. "An imposter of an elder with little comprehension of the Dao, and less still of the sword. And I would desperately like to trust you."

 Chapter 49 - Ancient

    "No, I refuse to believe it."

    "It''s true." I said smugly.

    It was an odd little jig we danced with each other. Despite our caution and all our reservations about each other, it became immediately apparent we had something in common. A desperate sort of loneliness. How long had it been for me? Two months? Three? It sounded like nothing, in the grand scheme of things. But the all-consuming nature of the mask had ground me down me down more than I''d realized. I was starting to see now, these last few days, just how many of my choices had been shaped by fear more than reason. I could scarcely imagine what her isolation had been like in comparison.

    We danced around a great deal.

    I didn''t talk about my personal past, except in generalities. It felt irrational, but I still refused to utter my old name aloud. She didn''t talk about her sisters, except in the form of those dark little jokes implying they were all dead now. Neither of us immediately brought up dangerous things, like the politics of the modern sects, or what exactly she needed to return to life. Things that could give us an edge over each other. But our dead worlds, the idiosyncratic little details of everyday life.

    Those we shared freely.

    "Without meaningful access to qi, your world advanced and fueled civilization through controlled combustion of the remains of dragons?" Ye Qing summarized.

    "Dinosaurs aren''t dragons." I repeated for the third time. I had no scholarly basis for this assertion, but it just felt so wrong I refused to concede it.

    "Reptilian apex predators of varied morphology who ruled the entire world in the misty era before human history. Some of which could fly. Dragons in every way that matters."

    "Are dragons less intelligent than housecats?"

    "A great many people would not disagree with that statement. In some cases it''s true in the most literal of senses. Not all dragons were calculating sovereigns. Some had the minds of animals despite their heaven-shaking might. Perhaps without qi, these ''dinosaurs'' were all the race ever amounted to."

    "I don''t think you''re ever gonna convince me a brontosaurus was a type of dragon, however distant."

    "Bu-ruo-to-suo-lu-si?" She sounded out the English word. It felt a little odd to my tongue as well, it''d been so long since I''d spoken the language aloud.

    "Brontosaurus." I repeated, emphasizing the saurus. "No wings, fat body, long skinny neck. Weighed enough that it''s steps shook the earth. Ate plants in tremendous quantity."

    It frustrated me a little, that I couldn''t think of a good translation of brontosaurus into this tongue. At least, not one that didn''t involved calling it a dragon. I wanted to say giraffe-lizard, but I didn''t have a word for giraffe either. And fat lizard or weighty lizard just sounded... Underwhelming. Heaven-shaking lizard?

    "Oil was mostly produced by plants anyway. Primarily large ferns, I think." I continued, returning to our earlier topic. "The majority of biomass is always produced by the lowest levels of an ecology''s food pyramid. But it was a more poetic turn phrase to describe our fuel source as ''dead dinosaurs''."

    "I see." Ye Qing leaned back against the wall, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It strains the bounds of credulity, to imagine such wonders fueled by controlled combustion. Peasants raised to the heavens on the back of deep bogs."

    "And your sect just used qi for energy? You never discovered oil?"

    "To answer your question, we used qi in much the same way you used electricity. The great formation of the sect experienced many transformations over the years, before it''s current sorry state. But over millennia of service, it''s components acted in a similar manner to the ''grid'' you described, effecting the transformation of one form of power to another through qi as an intermediary. We drew power from light, stone, the dragon veins, and even the spirits of our more senior disciples, turning it to every end we needed."

    "However, I''m not unfamiliar with rock oil." She continued. "Mortals have burned every form of oil beneath the heavens for light since time immemorial. But even after being told you were running out of it, the idea of it being utilized at such scales sounds fantastical. A world where the very Dao is different."

    "So, what is the Dao anyway?" I asked seriously.

    Ye Qing stared intently at me. I held on for a long moment, before a tiny smile slipped through. Ye Qing burst into raucous laughter.

    "Oh, that was a good one. What is the Dao. Even I was not so bold with my mistress to just out and ask it."

    Her face turned serious once more.

    "It''s funny. I had so many thoughts about what you would ask from me in exchange for your aid. The secrets of this place. My techniques. Spiritual treasures. Instead you come to me with tales even my wild mind would struggle to invent, seeking the most basic of instruction."

    I shrugged.

    "You''re not exactly what I expected either."

    "Oh, did you think I''d be stuffy? A scholar graceful and terrible, like your Meng Xiao?

    A domineering empress?"

    "There is a certain sort of gravitas I''ve come to expect from mighty cultivators." I politely non-answered.

    "If you''re lucky enough to live that long, you''ll eventually discover there are only two kinds of old women. The stuffy, and those well past fear. And I''m no coward."

    "I see."

    Ye Qing snorted, somehow managing to make the act dignified.

    "You are not tall enough to see that truth. If you''re ever lucky enough to see me restored to my former state, only then you will you understand. Still though, I''ve come to a decision. I shall help you."

    I closed my eyes and inclined my head.

    "Thank you."

    "From small seeds, perhaps we shall see true trust blossom. The Glass Flowers have yet to obtain a terminal. In return, you will ensure that they do."

    Reading between the lines, she couldn''t regularly speak with them until they did. It was a small enough thing I was willing to extend a little trust, if Ye Qing really could help me.

    "Very well. I will see that they do. Do you know where the other terminals are?"

    I was not keen on stumbling across another nascent soul level revenant, let alone one stronger. If the Lunar Solace Sect had true immortals, there might well be void-shattering corpses lying around. Even weakened far below their living strength, I wasn''t sure all the cultivators present could kill one of those together.

    Ye Qing gestured, and an image of the inner sect painted itself upon the air. One after another, ghostly white images of islands received thin black marks.

    "It''s been centuries since one was activated, but these are some of their last known locations. I expect they remain in the hands of the sisters who once owned them, or in their rings. I''ve marked only those I expect to be in the hands of sisters weaker than Little Ren."

    "Little Ren?" I regretted the question the moment I spoke it. There was only one person she could mean.

    "Third daughter of the main branch of the Ren clan of Yuhuang Mountain. She manifested her nascent soul in the 167th year of the Weathering Storm Era. She cultivated a novel variation of her family''s Stillness-Shattering Fist. Quiet and dutiful, but with a heart that bled for every injustice before her, however small. Her great ambition was to establish a satellite branch of the Lunar Solace Sect in the Kingdom of Zou."

    "I''m sorry." I replied on reflex.

    "Do not be." Ye Qing''s tone was heavy as a mountain, but without grief or anger. "What you destroyed was a twisted echo, long bereft of her essence. She died with her era and sisters, standing righteously against a tyrant. And so long as I endure, her memory shall not perish from this world."

    In silence, I jotted down the locations Ye Qing had marked. The map didn''t lend itself to two dimensions, but I could at least write down islands in terms of their distance from the top of the inner sect, and how far from the edge of the column they floated. Fourth row down, third island in and the like. The work was a welcome reprieve. I had no idea what words you could offer, in the face of something like that. All words of comfort were far beyond trite, bordering upon insulting. A dozen questions burned within me, but I didn''t give voice to those either. It wasn''t the time.

    My eyes commuted between the diagram and my papers, avoiding hers. Her stare never left me.

    "Let us discuss your problems." Ye Qing said abruptly, breaking the weighty silence. "Explain to me exactly what you have attained, and yet struggle with."

    I gave her an abridged explanation of what I''d tried, and what I''d learned. My complete inability to find a stable cycling method. Some of the applications for Elder Hu''s sword intent I''d discovered. What little certain knowledge I''d synthesized from reading stacks of manuals. I held back from mentioning anything about how our world had stories about cultivators, or the earthly religion of Taoism. It seemed like it would simply muddy the waters.

    "What exactly, is it that you seek? Power? Advancement? To rebuild what you have stumbled upon in a form more suitable to you?" She asked.

    "I think..." I trailed off. "I want to ensure my own safety, and Su Li''s safety. I wouldn''t decline out of hand any power I could grasp that would achieve that. But I think above all else, what I want is understanding. To know enough about the powers fate has given me that I can act as I am expected to and fight without giving myself away. Everything else, to advance, extend my lifespan, become stronger, or change Hu Xin''s cultivation. I want it, but it is not what I need. All of that is a luxury I will not hesitate to cast aside if I must."

    Ye Qing listened patiently, and then lapsed into thought after I finished. It was several minutes, before she finally spoke again.

    "There''s a great deal I would say, enough that I struggle to organize it all. Your problem is a strange one, but not without precedent in our sect''s long history. There are methods that allow an ancestor to pass great portions of their cultivation to an heir. Possessions gone awry, granting power but shedding memory. I shall I think, begin at the beginning. Your education is a strange patchwork, and by repairing some of these holes, I think you might see the problems you face yourself."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I listened in rapt attention, as Ye Qing began to lecture.

    "I think you have some misunderstandings about the realms, and how they function. Likely because you''ve only been exposed to materials intended for lower level cultivators. Or, perhaps because the average attainment has fallen so far in this era. In my time, no core formation cultivator would have dreamed of claiming the title of elder. An elder would have meant only immortals and those walking the long road, what the modern era calls void-shattering. Perhaps the most precocious and venerable of nascent soul cultivators as well. The realms are not merely stages marked by increasingly greater development of the quantity and power of one''s qi. The first two realms largely are, but from core formation onwards, the realms mark qualitative changes in one''s state of being. Core formation is the simplest. There are myriad types of cores and methods to forge them, but without exception they grant a cultivator an unflagging vitality, the power to eventually recover their own qi even without external qi to cycle. Whether a cultivator has one core or hundreds, this is always true, save in only the most degenerate and self destructive of methods. The following three realms however, are not so simple. All roads leads to immortality, but every immortal is a unique existence, united only in our great strength, and common freedom from the tyranny of time. Nascent soul, is the first true step upon that road.

    "Nascent soul as a stage is named for the manifestation of the soul, for the dawning of the ability to live on beyond the death of the flesh. But this isn''t the core of what the stage actually is, any more than shattering the void is the crux of the long road. One can form a core without a Dao. One can form a core even without true comprehension, if external conditions are perfect. In the right circumstances, a core can even be stolen or gifted. But to manifest a nascent soul requires more. One''s soul and qi must move closer into unity, to better embody the virtues that they cultivate. This unity allows them to exert far more influence upon the world with the same amount of qi, so long as they are acting in concordance with their fledgling Dao."

    "That''s why nascent soul cultivators feel heavier." I murmured. It made sense, at least on a surface level. But what did it really mean to be in concordance with their Dao? Was taking up a sword with the intent to cut really enough to be in unity with the old Elder Hu? It didn''t seem like it should be that simple.

    "Heavier is not a bad way to put it, if crudely simple." Ye Qing continued smoothly. "No matter how much qi they might bring to bear, cultivators of a lower realm will fail directly contest opponents who bear nascent souls within their own domains. The remnants of this unity are why the powers of sword intent have come so easily to you. The fire of lower cultivators might burn you, or their lightning lay you low. But even with your limited comprehension, only prodigies with peerless weapons might hope to so much as withstand a single direct blow from your sword.

    However, nascent soul is not merely a realm to be attained. It is a state of being, continuously maintained. Your soul is not yet so developed, so fixed, as to be incompatible with Elder Hu''s cultivation. Why, I cannot say. Some of it is an element of age certainly, but there is likely an underlying element of compatibility as well. This state may endure for a time, perhaps even a full hundred years, but if you live long enough, grow and change, one day it will become untenable. You will be forced to either reify his nature, or reject it and attain nascent soul in your own manner."

    "So, one day I''ll either have to become worthy of Elder Hu''s sword intent, or lose it." I summarized.

    "Not quite. This is no matter of worth nor merit. I have no doubt my mastery of the sword far outstrips your own. But were our spirits and wills to exchange their places, Elder Hu''s nascent soul would shatter in a heartbeat, reducing his body''s cultivation to core formation. What I am is not what he was, and there is no room left for my nature to bend."

    "You," Ye Qing smiled. "Are a willow sapling in comparison, bent to shape by the storm of his passing. This is why I hesitate to teach you more of the sword. My sword is not his. From even that small taste in the lesser dreaming chamber, I can tell that our ways are incompatible. In time I could perhaps see what was suitable to teach you. Help you develop an understanding of the weapon that was a synthesis of our arts and your nature. But in the short term, learning too profound a secret of swordsmanship might well weaken you. If immediate power is your concern, you are best limiting yourself to what you can glean on your own from his intent."

    "I see..." That was a lot to consider. I''d known nascent soul was more profound than the realms that came before it, and suspected that was why Hu''s sword intent came so easily to me. But confirmation that this was a temporary state, even if one with a relatively long grace period, was good to know. But that was a problem for the far future, I had to survive this year, before I worried about this century. It didn''t help me today, beyond giving me a way to avoid a pitfall I hadn''t been heading towards.

    "Do you see? We are yet early, but do you see the crux of your problem? Why you struggle to do so much that cultivators a realm beneath you manage effortlessly?" Ye Qing''s inhuman eyes stared through me.

    I thought about it. What exactly was I doing wrong? From her explanation, it was related to Elder Hu having attained nascent soul. Every elemental technique I''d tried had failed, and I''d struggled with the physical precision most sword techniques described in manuals required.

    "His nascent soul tinges my innate qi with sword intent. All my qi is sword qi." I guessed. "Elder Hu had some method to produce pure or elemental qi from sword qi, and I don''t know it."

    Ye Qing''s eyebrow rose.

    "Correct on the second count, close on the first, missing the third entirely. From what I felt in the dreaming chamber, your innate qi is indeed heavily aspected toward swords. However, that''s not a quality of your predecessor''s nascent soul, but of his cultivation method itself. To merge one''s sword intent with their cultivation in nascent soul, one must already be cultivating primarily sword qi by core formation. This has many advantages. It simplifies the process of cycling, and allows fighting powerful foes to act as fortuitous encounters. But the downside is that most sword cultivators must use a reverse cycling technique in order to generate pure qi. The third missing thing is simple comprehension. You know much. You have explained to me the fundamentals of gravitation and electricity, natural philosophy so advanced even in our age many core formation cultivators struggled to truly understand. But your understanding is that of a neophyte. It is one thing to describe the works of universal attraction and air flow. Another to know where exactly the arrow fired will land a thousand paces from you. You are, in a way, the product of too much education, and too little practice."

    I sighed. I''d been on the right track already, but unless Ye Qing could deduce Elder Hu''s method, I was back exactly where I started.

    "And I don''t know Elder Hu''s cycling method. Let alone any reversed variants of it."

    "Indeed. Normally, recreating such a thing would be a difficult task, even for an immortal with a functional body. But you''re in luck. I can do far better than merely recreating his work."

    Ye Qing smiled like that cat that ate the canary as my eyes widened.

    "The dreaming chambers you found in the outer sect are but early prototypes of the greatest works of our formation masters. During our prime, the Lunar Solace Sect were known far and wide as masters of the thin line between illusion and reality. Deep within the sect, there is a chamber beyond them, intended to plumb the depths of the soul. Great clans sent us their scions, to seek our expertise in cultivating their ancestral techniques. Your soul might not be that of your body''s first inhabitant, but the realm of nascent soul muddies the waters. However he met his end, the first Hu Xin brought his cultivation so close to the core of what he was that traces of him will remain. Traces that a skilled immortal like myself might manifest and interrogate."

    "That would show me his cycling method?"

    "Certainly. Likely far more. His techniques and tactics. The personality and history that shaped his cultivation method. Everything you need, to, as you put it, play this role."

    I swallowed. That was a tempting prize. Exactly what I needed. The single greatest piece of good fortune I could possibly expect to find in my position.

    "Where exactly is this chamber?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

    "Get me in contact with the elders of the Glass Flowers Sect first. Then we''ll see about getting you access to the Celestial Skein."

    That made sense, of course. It was the perfect bargaining chip. She couldn''t give it up for nothing. That didn''t make it rankle any less. Even a taste of Elder Hu''s memories would change everything.

    "That having been said... It wouldn''t do to leave you with nothing. You took a risk, in seeking me out, just as I did confiding in you."

    Ye Qing waved her hand, and the diagram of the sect washed away. Replacing it, was a qi flow diagram, and a few dozen lines of text. I began to copy them down even as she explained.

    "This, is another solution to your problem. Far less effective, but far more accessible. It''s a simple external cycling method intended to strip sword qi of it''s aspects. Internal cycling methods are highly personal, but external ones are largely standardized. The downside of course is that being performed without relying upon a meridian network, they are slower, more fragile, and vastly less effective. The White Mountain developed this one in an age past, to allow their disciples who did not practice sword techniques to cycle from their abundant natural sword qi. It is intended for late foundation establishment and early core formation cultivators, but I think it should be suitable for you."

    I studied the diagram. It was moderately complex, and sufficiently three dimensional that it was tricky to properly copy down. I did my best to commit it to both memory and paper, focusing on recall over understanding. Ye Qing''s elegant illusion with it''s ropes of flowing plasma turned into a series of isometric projections with little arrows to indicate flow direction. I silently gave thanks to my various art teachers. The characters at least, were easy enough to simply transcribe exactly.

    "You don''t have an empty jade slip?" She asked halfway through my copying.

    "I have one, but it isn''t empty, and I don''t know how to overwrite it."

    "I see I have my work cut out for me. We''ll remedy that lack later."

    "Thank you." My mind buzzed with ideas. Even if it was slower and less efficient than a nascent soul cultivator should be, this would allow me to eventually learn to use virtually any technique I''d run across. Nothing I could do with it in the short term would ever measure up to my sword in terms of sheer lethality. But I could learn to prepare traps before a fight, or heal after. Create immortal poisons for to coat stored weapons, or prepare spell talismans. And perhaps more importantly, learn to do all the other things cultivators took for granted, like apply telekinesis to things that were not swords. Or fly without getting the world''s best core workout.

    "Does it have a name?" I asked.

    "The White Mountain Sect was a sword sect above all else, and they disdained other paths. The cultivator who invented the method shared this view, and had a rather crude sense of humor besides. This combination of factors led him to name it the Sword Swallowing Method."

    "Puh." My breath exited my chest of it''s own accord, producing a noise somewhere between a cough and a chuckle. "That''s hilarious."

    "I thought so as well. It''s why he shared the art with me. Bear in mind it was intended to operate with pure sword qi. It is not unlikely that the late Elder Hu''s cultivation base has the influence of other concepts within it. The qi should be purer, and far more amenable to non sword techniques, but it may still be unsuitable for some applications."

    Ye Qing patiently waited for me to copy down the detailed instructions she''d provided.

    "I see I''ve given you much to consider, as you have given me." She said as I finished. "I had considered many possibilities after you first reached out to me. But a world of apparent lower order with such a different Dao was not among them. I shall leave you to your practice. But before I do, allow me to do what your master would have, if your introduction to our world was more conventional. It is said, that to introduce another to the world of immortals is to take responsibility for them. For the karma they sow, and the trials they suffer. I have never been a great believer in obeisance before karma, and our respective positions would not allow me to accept you as a proper disciple even if I wished to. Still, I shall swear to keep to the spirit of this tradition, if not it''s specifics. Whatsoever shall blossom between us in time, be it trust or strife, I shall not seek advantage over you through perverting the position of the teacher. There is much I feel I must refrain from disclosing. More secrets than any responsible teacher should have. Upon the honor of the Lunar Solace Sect, I swear that in whatsoever I teach, I will seek only to transmit a true knowledge of the Dao, to instill righteousness and resolve doubts."

    I could not name what emotion I saw in Ye Qing''s face. It was a certainty beyond faith. A resolve to keep alive a tradition that had been all but exterminated I could not help but respect.

    I bowed my head deeply once more.

    "Thank you. I... I have no words so fine to match those." I hated that it was now, when I most wanted to bare my heart, that words failed me so thoroughly. "My home was a very different place than this world. Kinder in some ways, darker in others. But we had our own ideals, however often we failed to live up to them. Justice untainted by privilege or prejudice. Pursuit of truth without care for gain or loss. Equality without discrimination. Freedom despite our many differences. I swear upon that memory that I will strive, to show you the best of us."

    I looked up. As much as I wanted to immediately run for a cave and seclude myself for a few days, that was not prudent. I had a young mistress to shepherd, and two sects to keep from each other''s throats. I half expected Elder Cai to have abducted a few Glass Flowers in the absence of anyone capable of and motivated to stop her. I needed to know more about what we faced in here.

    "But... Before you go, I have a few more questions."

 Chapter 50 - External Cycling

    I had lied. A few more questions had been a grave understatement. I''d kept Ye Qing for near another full hour, asking her all the tactical questions about the conditions of the inner sect I''d held back on before. Some things she didn''t know, others she refused to answer, and we completely avoided the subject of how exactly their sect had fallen to this state, but I still came away with a far better understanding of what exactly we were dealing with.

    When we''d finished, perhaps five hours had passed since I''d left the young mistress. I wanted to leave the inner sect immediately, check on Su Li, and go into seclusion for a day or two. But I didn''t think I''d be able to drag the young mistress away until she began to properly feel the effects of the inner sect''s cursed environment.

    At least my conversation with Ye Qing had given me plenty of ammunition to act mysterious. It was much easier to appear profound when you''d cribbed the answer key off someone else.

    As much as I wanted to try that cycling technique, I needed a second terminal first. I had a few ideas on how to get it into the hands of the Glass Flowers, but they could wait until we were all in the relative safety of the outer sect.

    Navigating the outer sect with my makeshift map was an exercise in frustration. I was never quite sure if the island I stopped in on was the same one I''d marked down. But with Ye Qing''s advice, it was much easier to avoid accidentally activating the revenants. Empty Vessels, she''d called them. Corpses animated by their environments, only those who died in nascent soul and above retained any form of rationality. And even those were far more limited than a Death Cultivator should be.

    Don''t affect them with qi, or use too much of it in their close vicinity. Don''t physically disturb them. Don''t keep too many living people in close proximity to them for extended periods of time.

    Now knowing this, I simply began checking buildings for terminals that weren''t in a corpse''s hands. I had an algorithm now, a set of steps to minimize the odds of an another violent encounter. Fly up to an island I thought was on the list. Approach within a hundred yards of the building I was considering, and toss a small rock at it. If the rock didn''t get intercepted by a hidden wall of distorted space or a shield of white light, I moved on to a knife. Gingerly piloted with the smallest amount of sword qi I could muster, it would fly around the building and then peek into a window.

    If nothing happened then, I would land, completely withdraw my qi, and begin creeping about like a mortal. I left any form of locked door alone. Force might shake the building, and sword qi could wake anything nearby. Why risk it, when I had well over a dozen potential locations on my list?

    The first island had defenses. The second I found a terminal, but it was held tight in the dead hands of it''s owner.

    The third, I struck gold. In a small room, a dead cultivator was curled up in a corner. Shriveled hands clutched tightly at their head. From a distance, it was clear their fingers had wormed deeper into their ears than was healthy.

    I winced.

    "Deliver them from all anguish." I mouthed silently. I''d never been much of a Catholic, but this much death had a way of making me reach for half-remembered words. Thousands of bodies, and they''d all been helpless to fight back. Unable to do anything at all against a cultivator so many realms above them.

    It was a stark reminder of the way this world worked. What was a God? One realm beyond an Immortal? More? I hadn''t asked Ye Qing.

    I wasn''t sure it even mattered. That was the nature of this place, wasn''t it? No matter how high you rose, there was always someone above you. Even if I got out from under the Sectmaster''s thumb, safety would ever be an illusion.

    Ye Qing had stood above him, and her sect was gone.

    I exhaled, and pushed the grim thoughts away. I couldn''t control the world, but I could control my thoughts.

    The terminal sat on a writing desk. I took it and left, creeping back through the same dusty path I''d entered. When I was safely back in the air, I fed a thin tendril of sword qi into the terminal and severed the existing owner''s qi signature. The flowers could figure it out from there.

    With the second terminal stored, I retreated back to the same empty house I''d camped out in earlier. I plunged my sword into the ground before the door, pushing enough sword qi into it that it could easily be sensed from a distance, but not enough I worried about waking the dead. I''d give the young mistress twelve more hours, before I pulled her out.

    I pulled out my notes on the Sword Swallowing Method. There were two components to it. The physical way qi moved in three dimensions. And the vague, almost poetic description of the mental visualizations and mantras to focus on while cycling the qi.

    I usually worked with thick clouds of external qi, but thinner tendrils were not too difficult to manifest. They felt slower, more fragile. It took time and restraint to extrude them from the dense aura that shrouded me, and if I moved them too quickly, more qi would flood into them, causing them to grow.

    Working slowly, I wove the shape I''d drawn. Two almost complete circles, one within the other. A single strand of qi connected them in two places, turning the diagram into a single flow. It took a few tries, but it wasn''t too hard to create and hold. Then came the final stroke, a second thread of qi that rose from the base of the shape to the top, intersecting both circles at two points, before looping back on itself. Both loops returned to my aura, and I allowed sword qi to slowly flow through the formation. Nothing happened. I took that as a promising sign, it was at least holding together without collapsing in some way. That alone was an improvement from most of my attempts at cycling.

    "The fundamental truth of the sword is that of division. Change through separation, a pure emanation of the Taiji. Violence and dominion, all fruits of it''s expression emerge through this gate. Through union without change, this emanation is rejected. The sword is a facet of the Dao, it''s change between forms does not require motion." I read aloud. The rest continued with a list of mental images I could use, and instructed me to ''grind away without removal'' and ''cast aside the blade in favor of its potential''.

    I closed my eyes, trusting in the stability of my qi. The Taiji was a concept somewhat like the Dao, an expression of cosmological truth. My understanding was that it explained how the interactions of yin and yang gave birth to all existence. So, the instructions said that I was supposed to operate the technique in the opposite manner of cutting. I was less certain about the second part.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.Perhaps that meant that pure qi already existed within sword qi, and I was trying to reveal a different face of it rather than filter part of it out? Grind without removal certainly sounded like I wasn''t filtering anything away, but somehow revealing a new facet of the qi without actually changing it.

    I was a lot less confident about this part. I thought back to what Ye Qing had said, about me being a product of too much knowing and too little understanding. I resented it, just a little. Sure, my knowledge of electricity was rusty. I''d never built a generator or transformer, and I needed to consult a great deal of reference material before attempting so much as rewiring an outlet. I''d last studied it seriously two decades ago in early college. But electricity and gravity had never been my focus. We hadn''t talked about computation, medicine, or jet maintenance.

    But perhaps she was right about my limited understanding of the qi and the sword. I had a lot of disparate facts I''d read, but precious little solid understanding, and less practice. I''d been given a task that should be possible. If I failed to get the technique working, it wouldn''t be for lack of trying.

    For my first attempt, I chose ''A sword rusting to dust'' as my visualization. It felt wrong from the outset, but it was a starting place. I allowed qi to flow through the shape I''d built as I focused on the image''s in my mind''s eye. It was difficult to hold, I''d always thought more in words than images.

    When I finally held the image for a moment, I felt it was wrong almost immediately. As rust flaked off the sword, the technique shuddered, grinding against itself.

    I allowed it to fall away, reclaiming as much of my qi as I could, then began anew.

    The image of a sword slicing through water without splitting it caused the technique to do nothing.

    I tried an abstract sequence of a sword being unforged, it''s creation played in reverse, next. The walls acquired a few more deep scratches.

    Half a dozen more images failed in similar ways, and I moved on to mantras. Other techniques had listed them, though the description here favored images. But none of them felt right to me. I was unsure how that worked. It all felt very arbitrary, but it had to depend on either the user of the technique, or the qi they were trying to purify. Nothing else made sense.

    "Union without change." Produced no change.

    "Cast aside the blade." Caused the technique to gently fall apart.

    What was I missing? Pure qi was supposed to be the essence of both change and eternity. The power to influence the world, and to become immortal and endure forever. Yin and yang aspects, perhaps? Or maybe that was reductive, the power to change seemed yang aligned, but so was vitality and lifespan in general.

    How did the sword relate to that?

    I let my mind rest on the sensation of Elder Hu''s qi. The way it felt like a river of razorblades flowing through my veins, and yet somehow warm and comforting at the same time. The heady joy I felt when it was unleashed.

    My qi was certainly more yang than it was yin.

    "Union without change." I murmured, pondering the concept, rather than trying to use the technique. "Cut away the edge, sever the blade."

    I felt something shift, in a way that didn''t immediately destabilize the technique. Qi flowed against itself, intersecting in a way that shifted it. I tried to follow the thread, extend the mantra. What did it mean to cut away the idea of the sword, leaving only raw potential behind?

    "Iron sharpens iron. The blade is whetted until it is no more." I continued silently. Wrong, I instantly knew. I could feel the technique waver, destabilize.

    "Elder Hu." Meng Daiyu''s voice shattered my train of thought.

    I exhaled, and withdrew my qi. Frustrating, I was so close. But I''d invited her to interrupt me, placing the sword as I did. I opened my eyes, affecting the ''Irritatingly unhelpful martial uncle'' demeanor the young mistress seemed to expect from me.

    "Young Mistress Meng. Have you tired of the inner sect already?" I asked wryly.

    "The Glass Flowers have retreated back to the outer sect."

    "Unsurprising. They''ve been doing since we arrived. One day in, one day out. I suppose you have noticed then?"

    "Noticed? The resentment here gnaws at me, but I am not so weak I cannot bear it for more than a day."

    I raised an eyebrow.

    "The resentment is a product of so much anguished death."

    "Yes?"

    "If the resentment is a product of such slaughter, then what was the cause of it?"

    I didn''t know the full answer to that myself. Ye Qing had been vague about how exactly the sect had died, but she''d been clear that the power that animated it''s corpses was a separate thing from the effect that had driven her sisters to violent madness. And that though it was much diminished, that effect still lingered.

    "Fly with me." Meng Daiyu eventually replied. I rose, recalling my sword to my hand, and the two of us took to the air. She led us slowly back towards the tunnel to the outer sect.

    "I need to take time to stabilize my cultivation. If you think what originally killed this sect still lingers, there''s no sense in additional exposure to it while I do that."

    "Wise." I said, the barest hint of mockery in my voice.

    We lapsed into silence for a time.

    "I have a technique." Meng Daiyu said suddenly. "It allows me to absorb power from the remains of departed cultivators."

    "I suspected as much. There were only so many things you could have been doing with that body."

    "The lesser undead retain little of their strength in life."

    Ah, I saw where this was going. She wanted leach off me.

    "Indeed they do. They are not true death cultivators, or even proper ghouls. Merely vessels for the accumulated resentment of this place. The ones who were in nascent soul retain more of their rationality and techniques, of course."

    "I hope, to absorb such a revenant. Perhaps even more than one. The remnants of the yin cultivation bases of the lesser disciples have been advantageous to me, but the technique truly shines when used upon dead whose cultivation outstrips me own."

    "I can see how that would be very beneficial for you." I said noncommittally.

    "My master did not order you to help me."

    "He did not."

    "What would it take, for you to help me all the same?"

    I thought about it.

    "I expect Elder Shi is going to head here the moment he is informed of the state of the inner sect."

    "Elder Xin as well." Meng Daiyu agreed. "His techniques are more discerning than my own, but he will likely want his pick of the more intact spirits. As Elder Shi will seek the most powerful bodies. I have no doubt my master would come himself, if war would not break out the moment he began to move."

    "There is something I suspect this sect to possess." I said, thinking of the Celestial Skein Ye Qing had mentioned. If it was as valuable as she''d implied, I had no doubt it would be behind substantial defenses. If I could marshal Elder Cai and the Young Mistress, I''d feel a lot better about potentially waking up powerful revenants. "I have not found it yet, nor proof of it''s existence. But I hope to, before others begin to arrive and the race to exploit this place begins in earnest."

    "I will help you seize it." The response was immediate.

    I turned to look at the young mistress. I had not expected that, given her earlier attitude toward me. Her eyes were locked on the exit tunnel.

    "I''ve grown, since that day." She said, not looking at me. "I do not need every prize."

    There was a great deal of context I was missing. Shit. Hopefully Elder Hu''s memories would make it clear what exactly she was talking about.

    "I will consider it." I said. I should probably run that one by Ye Qing, before I started hunting the animated corpses of her sect''s disciples.

    "Very well. Do not take too long, Disciple Hao will send word back to her master the moment she sees the state of the inner sect."

    The two of us entered the tunnel without landing, flying directly into the white glow of the barrier.

    When we emerged, it was to an outer sect divided. Black robes stood to one side of the great hall, white the other.

    Elder Cai stood in the center of the hall, facing the two Glass Flower Elders. Inner Disciples crowded around them, our side far outnumbering the mere two the Glass Flowers had brought. Raised voices cut across the jeers and threats of the disciples.

    "She wasn''t even harmed." Elder Cai said loudly. "Cowards, the lot of you."

    The young mistress and I exchanged glances.

    "I''m sure this will be good."

    "That is such a kind way of phrasing it Elder Hu. I suppose we''ve earned this, leaving Cai Haoyu unsupervised. At least she didn''t kill anyone."

    "Yet." I added.

    "Yet." The young mistress agreed. "My master would have censured her a dozen times by now, if the proceeds of her workshop did not represent a non-trivial fraction of the sect''s operating budget."