Ling Qi did, following in Shu Yue's shadow, Sixiang tailing along behind them. Ling Qi pondered Shu Yue's words. She knew that desire, want was not a thing which could be called good or bad, it arose from many corners. Her eyes saw more the desires which bent toward consumption and possession, and so she was less attentive to the passions which fed more destructive urges. While she did not think she was wrong. The desire, to consume, possess, to grow, was the greater urge, Shue Yue was right that she could not afford to ignore the Want that was retribution, was spite, was wrath.
She had seen well enough the ends which those could drive even a Sovereign too. It was why she had chosen the lesson she had after all, she'd known she would need to confront and learn to bend those things to her own ends as she developed the Thief of Names.
It just bothered her to find those kind of roots even in celebration and joy, just a little. It shouldn't she knew, but it did. She really had bought into Renxiang's ideas, hadn't she? Sixiang laid a hand on her shoulder as they descended. Down and down, further than should have really been possible given the physical space, until they came before the stage. Set on the floor there was a worn table, thick with dust and on it were numerous ceramics. Pots and urns and bowls. They were all small and humble things, compared to the gigantic vases which sat on the higher floor. Most were pitted, worn, even cracked, their patterns were simple and in some cases even childish, like the things Biyu made.
Somehow it was those ones which curdled her stomach the most.
