Reach Heaven Via Feng Shui Engineering, Drug Trade And Tax Evasion

Chapter 30: Trace The Tracks Though Timeworn Tomes
Qian Shanyi gazed out into the night sky and sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. Making the heavenly vow dropped her mood like a stone, and being drained of spiritual energy did not help matters. Knowing that she couldn't push herself beyond what her mere muscles could handle, couldn't even defend herself with a spiritual shield made her feel vulnerable, and her hand pulled on the handle of her sword almost without thought, making sure it still slid out of its sheath easily.

Still, Wu Lanhua was infuriatingly right - it had to be done. Now she just had to make sure the heavens wouldn't see through her deception until the time was right.

Besides, she'd be back to her top shape within a couple days at most. Spiritual energy or not, she was in the middle of a civilized imperial town - nobody would attack her here. Her mind just hadn't fully adjusted after her brief stint in the wilds, where death was around every corner.

She ruminated on this fact as she idly poked at the edges of the vow within her mind, feeling it out, scratching it like a fresh scab over a wound. She could tear it apart at any moment, if she wanted to - but without any preparations, that would spell her doom.

Perhaps she shouldn't let her mind adjust, now that she decided to go after Wang Yonghao. It would only get more dangerous from here on out.

She closed her eyes, and expanded her awareness through her soul and body. Where before, her meridians shone bright with spiritual energy, now they were dim, barely distinguishable from her muscles and blood vessels. Even her senses are not as sharp as before, with no spiritual energy around to manipulate.

Normally, when a cultivator was exhausted, they could circulate the spiritual energy in their body to speed up their recovery - turn it into a whirlpool, sucking in more of itself out of the air - but with no spiritual energy left, she couldn't even do that. The only thing left was to simply wait: over time, it would slowly diffuse back into her meridians on its own.

She sighed again, picked up her backpack and headed back towards the stairs. To think that she couldn't even hop over the second-floor balcony railing without worrying about twisting her ankle. It was a six meter fall - barely anything under normal circumstances.

Exhaustion pressed in on her - partly physical, but mostly emotional - and the only thing she wanted to do now was to head straight to bed.

As she descended down to the first floor, her eyes crossed with Liu Fakuang coming down the corridor. He smiled, waved at her and headed in her direction.

She kept the scowl off her face, returning his smile with a polite nod. He was the last person she wanted to meet right now, after being forced to humiliate herself and beg Heavens for help.

The empire had a ban on the practice of vow making, and as a spirit hunter, it would have been his duty to enforce it. To make matters worse, he could surely sense the flow of spiritual energy around her body - or lack thereof. She couldn't even close her pores and play up her innocence - in front of another cultivator, doing so would be seen as an aggressive move, just short of unsheathing her sword.

She really should have just risked it and hopped the railing.

Briefly, she considered trying to run away. Perhaps she could pretend her stomach was disagreeing with her before he came close enough to sense her properly, and leave the estate before he managed to corner her - but no, that sort of weak deception would only invite more trouble on her head. Inevitably, he would offer his help, and avoiding coming close enough to him for him to sense the difference between a very weak flow of spiritual energy and a total lack of one would be impossible.

Spiritual energy senses came from the dense forest of spiritual cilia surrounding the soul of every person. Halfway between touch and taste, it made it easier to sense spiritual energy the closer it was to your body, where the cilia were densest. If she could have stayed a dozen meters away, then perhaps she could have had a chance, but once he came closer and she saw his expression shift to surprise, there was no real chance of hiding the obvious.

"Fellow cultivator Liu," she said, leaning against a wall while keeping her expression neutral, "how goes the party so far?"

"Oh, I am surprised you'd make one." He finally said, coming closer, with barely even a pause in his step. At the very least his hand was holding a glass of wine and not a sword, though for a spirit hunter, this meant little.

"Make what?" she asked, in the vain hope he meant something other than the obvious.

"A heavenly vow," he said, gesturing to her body with the glass.

"And what if I have?" she said, growing irritated, and immediately kicked herself. That was entirely the wrong thing to say, wherever she wanted to conceal the fact or put it out in the open. She should have been better than this - perhaps she was beginning to spiral.

Her first real mistake was making the vow in the middle of Wu Langua's estate, as opposed to somewhere quiet, where she could rest immediately afterwards. She knew that the vow would instantly drain the spiritual energy from her body, and that would be obvious to any cultivator that came close to her, but she thought she could sneak out before she was noticed, and the moment felt perfect to make the heavens believe she made the vow in a moment of emotional vulnerability. If she had delayed, selling the deception would have been harder - though perhaps she was just trying to justify her own mistakes to herself.

The second mistake was not hopping the balcony railing, leaving immediately as quickly as she could, risk of injury be damned.

In truth, Wu Lanhua's words shook her more than she cared to admit. She still wasn't sure if she made the right decision, and the fact that she might still fail in her quest and end up feeding the heavens for no reason made her skin crawl.

"Well, you aren't supposed to do that," he said, frowning, "People think it's dishonorable."

"I've been told on many an occasion that women already have no honor," she scoffed, putting one of her hands on her hip to steady herself, "Women, children, mortals, is that not how the saying goes?"

Again she spoke without thinking. She needed to get a hold of herself, but the topic was one of old anger, deep grooves already carved into her soul and far too easy to slip into. She heard those words dozens of times - sometimes spoken aloud, and sometimes merely implied - whenever she asked for something above her station. She couldn't be trusted, you see, for she had no honor.

Out of the three words, it was not women but mortals that rankled her the most in the sheer bold-faced lie of its counterpart - honorable immortal. Cultivators were categorically not immortal, not even remotely - those in the refinement stage merely aged slower and were marginally harder to kill. Yet the word was still there - as if it was immortality that brought honor with it, and thus anyone who died had made a transgression against their dao.

"That's… a bit old fashioned, don't you think?" He scratched his head, motioning to a servant to bring them refreshments. "There are many honorable female cultivators these days."

"It only seems to be old fashioned when it comes to losing honor." - she scoffed again - "but not gaining or holding it. Truly a mystery how we get all the drawbacks with none of the benefits."

She rubbed her eyes, and leaned her head back until it touched the wall behind her. She needed to focus. The man wasn't being aggressive, he wasn't even telling her about the imperial ban on the practice of vow making, which by all rights was his job. Which meant - what?

He said that people thought it was dishonorable, not that it was dishonorable. A strange way of phrasing things, a linguistic distinction drawn entirely subconsciously. One that implied a personal disagreement. And Wu Lanhua did say that she made the karmist shrine as a gift to someone close - but surely that was madness. A spirit hunter could not be a karmist, could he? But if it was his relative…

Perhaps she could use this.

"I am sorry, these words were uncalled for." She sighed, giving Liu Fakuang a short bow. "I put up a brave front, but in truth, my travels have been a strain on me as of late. This is, of course, no excuse, so if I have offended your family, I will take my leave at once."

"Well, it's not my family yet." He laughed, his sunny attitude starting to return. "Our marriage isn't for another two months."

"Nonetheless. This vow brings me great shame, and I didn't wish to tarnish your house by association. I apologize for not thinking clearly."

This play was weak, but it was the best she could think of now that she managed to put herself into a corner. At worst, if she was wrong, her situation should not change much.

"Oh no, that isn't what I meant at all," he responded, his reflexive denial only further cementing her suspicions, "I just meant that you should be careful with it where other cultivators can see you. I've lived as a loose cultivator for five years, before I got into an imperial program - if others start to doubt your honor, it's almost impossible to crawl your way back."

"They already do," she said, giving him a pained smile. As if she didn't know.

At least now that she got him to reflexively defend the abominable practice, he should be less likely to bring a hammer down on her head for it.

"Well, it could always get worse, right?" He scratched his head, "And you don't seem like the type to duel your way back into good standing. No sect would deal with a dishonored loose cultivator - the only thing left for you would be to go hunt demon beasts out here on the frontier. We see that a lot, people passing through, heading into the wilds to do just that - and many never return. Your teacher really should have explained this before you set off on your own, but I know how tight lipped old spirit hunters can be at the worst times."

"You know, I would have expected a stronger reaction from a spirit hunter," she said, not managing to hold her curiosity back, "Talking of being careful in front of others? You almost speak like a karmist."

"Hah, I'm a bad karmist," he chuckled. "But I was raised as one, yeah."

She barely kept herself from sneering in disgust, and instead bowed deeply, keeping her face away from his sight until she could school her expression better.

"Then I must thank you," she said, forcing imagined gratitude into her tone with the sheer force of will, "I will take this advice to heart."

The empire might not have banned karmism, but the antagonism between the Heavens and the world of cultivators was a long one, going back to the times of Gu Lingtian and the treaties signed after his rebellion. Even now, the heavens would seek to strike down any cultivator that advanced in realm with a heavenly tribulation, their swords only bound by the restrictions on their interference in the mortal world. Because of this, most cultivators would refuse to deal with the heavens at all - after all, why should they, when the Heavens sought their death?

That a spirit hunter, one meant to guard humanity against the monsters was actually willing to give them face, beyond the bare minimum required to call on one of the rare techniques that involved heavenly forces, have a fucking shrine built, stirred hot rage in her heart.

How could you? How many deaths will be enough before you will spit in their face?

"Besides, what would I even do with you? Give you a fine?" He chuckled, throwing a glance out into the gardens through one of the windows. "My Lanhua would kill me. She was so excited to have you here, do you know? I was surprised - usually, she is quite jealous, but it's good you two made friends. Just don't do it again."

"I wouldn't think of it." She shook her head vigorously, raising up from her bow. "This was the first vow I ever made in my life, and I dearly hope it will be the last."

Oh how she wished she could say what she truly thought of having to make it, but she had to toe a line, and only let a part of herself shine through. The heavens were, no doubt, paying careful attention to her now. If she let it slip that she had no intent to fulfill her part of the bargain, the tribulation would come in the very next moment, and her entire gamble would bring her nothing but death. If she was to survive it, she needed to make careful preparations, and have Wang Yonghao by her side.

At the end of the day, the heavens had to believe that she made the vow out of sheer desperation, violating her long held principles in the process. It wasn't even entirely incorrect. Being ashamed of it was only natural, and so she had no need to hide it.

"So you aren't a karmist? Then why make it at all, if you are so ashamed?" He scratched his chin, looking at her strangely.

"My talk with your fiance touched on… a personal issue of mine," she said, looking away, wishing she could make herself blush with a thought to sell the deception better. Widening the blood vessels would have been trivial if she had even a shred of free spiritual energy in her body. "It brought me to a place of great despair. I suppose I reached out for the first thread of help I could think of."

"Could we help you somehow?"

She looked over at him, and could tell that, once again, he was being genuine. It made her feel a little bad for deceiving him, even though she knew he would just bring more problems on her head if she came out clean. That feeling was instantly washed away with fury of raging netherworld flames when she thought of what else he might stand by, if he was willing to simply let her get away with bowing to Heavens.

"No." She shook her head, keeping her feelings from her face. "I have already embarrassed myself quite enough. I am thankful to you and your fiance for inviting me here, but I am afraid this matter is far too private to ask for help from people I have met only just this week."

She pulled herself upright, and bowed deeply to Liu Fakuang a second time.

"Thank you once again, for your discretion. The day had been quite exhausting for me - if you do not mind, I would say my thanks to your fiance, and then retire for the night."

This went better than it had any right to, so it was time to get away from here before she said something she would regret.

He nodded to her, and together they went out into the gardens. On the way there, she picked up a glass of mulled wine from one of the passing waiters, as well as a small plate of delicate, airy biscuits that seemed to melt in your mouth.

They really were exquisite, especially compared to how easy they were to bake. She would have to go over her memories and write all her observations down before bed, just to make sure she didn't forget any subtle points about the head chef's technique.

As the pastry dissolved in her mouth, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, her plans would all work out.

When they found Wu Lanhua again, she was chatting with a couple merchants, laughing quietly at some shared joke. Once she saw them approach she threw a word here, a meaningful glance there, and somehow managed to substitute herself with Liu Fakuang without interrupting the discussion at any point. It all seemed so casual to her, passing through conversation like a flock of hummingbirds fluttering through the branches of a forest, so fast and quiet that you could hardly believe you weren't imagining it.

In another life, Qian Shanyi would have enjoyed learning under the merchant woman until she could beat her at her own game.

"Your mood seems to have grown worse since I left you," Wu Lanhua noted, leading her deeper into the gardens where they could speak in privacy. "I don't suppose you are here to accept my offer?"

"Not quite. I will be leaving town tomorrow morning."

"What utter certainty," she said, pursing her lips in disappointment, "Quite unlike your words on the balcony."

"I've listened to your advice. The cost is already paid."

"My advice? If you had actually listened to me, you would have made the right decision," Wu Lanhua sighed, showing her a bed of exotic flowers that she was surprised could still grow in the cold mountain air. Unlike some other parts of the garden, this one didn't even have a heat control talisman. "Foolish child. And this cost, it could not be simply reneged on?"

Qian Shanyi smiled. It was nice to talk to someone whose thinking went in the right direction straight away. So many things could be left unstated.

"No, I am afraid not." She shook her head. "I came by to give you my thanks, and to make sure there were no misunderstandings between us, as I will be leaving the party soon."

"Leaving? Why, do you have somewhere else to be?"

"I am exhausted and need rest," she said, letting the tiredness she felt slip into her voice. Her limbs felt weak, almost as bad as when she was still starving in the world fragment - at least back then she had spiritual energy to make up the difference. But it was the mental exhaustion and shame that were the worst of it.

When it came to physical weakness, she could only wait for the spiritual energy in the air to be slowly absorbed by her body. With how little of it there was in town, this would take many hours - perhaps even a couple days - but afterwards she would be back in top shape. For the strain on her mind, there was no easy cure.

"All the more reason to stay." Wu Lanhua quirked an eyebrow at her, as they entered a cozy gazebo tucked away from sight by walls of shrubbery. A bench wrapped around its perimeter, with a small table right in the middle.

There was already a tray with refreshments left for them, the wine still warm and steaming slightly in the cold night air, no doubt brought here once the Wu Lanhua made some secret signal to her servants. Qian Shanyi didn't notice any, but there were many ways to conceal them in perfectly ordinary movements: a casual hand gesture, a wave of her fan, or perhaps a finger tucking a hair lock away in just the right way.

"You won't find a better place to relax anywhere in town, no matter how hard you look for it," Wu Lanhua said, pouring them both some wine, "I have always made sure my house was the place to be, even if this party is quite small by my standards."

"The only thing I am looking for right now is to close my eyes for the night," she said, cradling her fingers around the glass and enjoying the heat seeping into them.

"Then take a bed in my guest bedrooms." Wu Llanhua quirked an eyebrow at her. "In return, I hope you won't begrudge this old woman some conversation over breakfast? There is much to discuss about our future cooperation."

"Cooperation?" She gave her a confused look. "I will be leaving tomorrow. Surely you know better than to try to convince me again?"

"Who is trying to convince you?" Wu Lanhua grumbled, clearly having prepared to do just that. "That ship has already sailed. But your foolish chase will surely end, one way or another. Once it does, you will know where to find me."

She supposed that did seem obvious, from her perspective, given that she thought Yonghao was just some errant ruin delver. And Qian Shanyi did need a way to sell all those treasures later…

"Oh, that's what you meant," she chuckled, "Of course. I mean no disrespect by my decision to leave - but the promises I made come before my desire to learn from someone like you. In fact, as a token of my goodwill, allow me to offer you a gift."

She reached into her backpack, took out one of the swords, and handed it to Wu Lanhua. The merchant woman gave her a quizzical stare, but accepted the offering.

"I could have been in a fair amount of trouble, if your fiance were to find out about me," she explained, "I hope this artifact makes up somewhat for the trouble I have caused in return."

"You know, I could help you sell all four of those. I assure you my prices would be much fairer than the ones you would get from the other merchants."

"Let's not get that far." She laughed at the shared joke, left unstated, and received a light huff in return. She wasn't about to put all her wealth in Wu Lanhua's hands. She trusted the other woman somewhat, but not that much.

"How do you plan to sell those on your own while traveling?" Wu Lanhua shook her head, tucking the sword away behind a shrub, still wrapped in the cut of Silvered Devil Moth Silk. "But I suppose it's only proper for you to make mistakes while young. This is a generous gift, so let me respond with one of my own."

Wu Lanhua reached into a pocket of her overcoat, and took out a small wooden box with the emblem of the lotus engraved on the top, and passed it to Qian Shanyi. She flicked the lid open, and saw her new seal. The one that was supposed to be given to her in person at the imperial office where she requested it.

She gave Wu Lanhua a grim, unamused stare, which she seemed to take in stride.

"I happen to have a friend at the imperial offices," the merchant said with a light smile, "who had kindly allowed me to bring it over to you."

"Truly."

"Is it not a great gift after helping me with this party? Now you do not have to trudge over there in the morning. You could even sleep in."

"One wonders if I could have received it before the party even started, when I already wasted my time going there today."

"I am afraid I am not much of a philosopher. Who could truly say what could happen if the time were to flow differently?"

"Are you now? The office told me it could only be made ready by tomorrow. Yet you give it to me now - is this not a mastery of time?"

"Oh, it's just a trifle of bureaucracy. Hardly worth noting."

Qian Shanyi sighed, and tucked the seal away into her clothes. This was a power play, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"So, would you accept my humble offer of a guest bedroom?"

"Will the time flow differently again if I say no?"

"Who can truly say?" Wu Lanhua said with a slight smile. "But I doubt it. It is only an offer. After all, there are no more misunderstandings left between us, and with how strong your will is, I could hardly convince you to abort your chase?"

Qian Shanyi grumbled, but nodded, and got up.

"I will see you in the morning, Lanhua."

"Sleep well, Yishan." She heard Wu Lanhua chuckle as she left the gazebo. "Don't let the worries into your mind. Tomorrow will be a whole new day of possibility.

She did end up spending the night at Wu Lanhua's estate. It was ceding a bit more control to the other woman, but she did give her the seal freely, as opposed to holding it over her head until she agreed. There was also a small danger of Liu Fakuang checking her backpack and finding the swords, but even if he had any suspicions, he did not act on them. Overall, keeping Wu Lanhua happy still seemed like the best strategy.

That the bed felt so much softer than her cot at Old Chen's was only a bonus, and did not factor into her decision in the slightest.

In the morning, she took an opportunity to use Wu Lanhua's private baths, and then had a long breakfast with her and Liu Fakuang. Their talk stayed casual throughout, which she appreciated, though she could tell the spirit hunter had some burning question on his mind. She didn't give him an opportunity to ask, lest she be made to lie again. With a full night's sleep at her back, tolerating the presence of the karmist became a lot easier, but she was still glad when the meal came to an end.

Spiritual energy in her dantians and meridians was very slowly starting to recover, though it was still far from reaching that critical level when she could spin it into a cycle and begin actively sucking more out of thin air. At least she was still in the refinement stage, and thus her soul needed barely any energy to sustain itself. If she was in the building foundation stage, then this level of prolonged exhaustion would have been actively life threatening. The heavens, of course, knew this, and that they always chose to drain a cultivator completely when making a vow was yet another sign of their murderous intentions.

Once the breakfast finished, she got her payment from Wu Lanhua (Three gold yuan, as agreed), and was pleased to learn that the cultivator robes she wore the day before were a gift as well. That expanded her wardrobe from one set of clothes to two, or three if she added in the robes she wore originally when she came to this town. She could actually do laundry without an issue now.

After she once again thanked the pair for their hospitality, she left the estate, and headed directly for the market. She needed to buy a hat.

Her divination bottle only showed her the direction towards Wang Yonghao, but not the distance. She could try to simply head in the same direction; but of course she needed to travel faster than the man if she had any chances of catching up to him, and such a direct path would obviously not align with any actual rivers or pathways. If she had any hope of catching him, she needed to know his actual current position and then make a plan for how to reach it in the shortest time possible.

The answer was simple: triangulation.

Triangulation was one of the most basic principles of geometry, used for surveying all over the empire. First, you picked two nearby points. Then, you measured the angles between these points and some target location. Assuming you knew the distance between these two points, then with a little bit of mathematics, you could know the distance to your target; the more precise your measurements, the better the distance estimation would be.

She easily bought some supplies she would use to measure the angles at the market - wood, nails and some thread, mostly - which only left one crucial item: the map.

Having the distance and direction alone wouldn't be enough. She needed to put a point on the map, to figure out how to actually get there.

That meant she needed to visit the post office again.

Given her recent luck, this was definitely playing with fire - postmaster Lan Yu was one of the only people who could definitively identify her as Qian Shanyi, the cultivator who tried to sell swords without going through the normal procedures, and thus also the one who committed identity fraud - but she felt the risk was justified. First of all, Lan Yu should be off duty today - she told her that she only worked every other day, and today was not one of those. Secondly, she was going to be leaving town - even if she got recognised, she was reasonably sure she could hop on a ship before the news spread and the spirit hunters came to question her.

She had considered going to the post office in the next town over, before deciding against it. It would take at least a day to get there, and if she did and then realized she actually had to head in the opposite direction, she would waste another day on top of that. She was already a full week behind Wang Yonghao: such a waste was unjustifiable, given her circumstances.

On top of that, there was the question of how long her vow could last. She had managed to deceive the heavens for now, and it was well known that the heavens did not completely understand the thought and behavior of cultivators, but the longer they had the time to observe her, think back on what they have seen before, the higher the chances they would see through her lies. Karmists believed that the heavens knew anything you have ever done in your entire life - and even though she did not believe that, the amount of information they had available was generally accepted to be truly extensive. It was a question of how long it would take the heavens to realize she didn't actually change her mind about her promise to help Wang Yonghao get rid of his luck, assuming they already knew about it - if that happened before she even triangulated Wang Yonghao's position once, she would have absolutely nothing to go on.

Just to be on the safe side, she wore her new cultivator robes, and bought a wide brimmed hat with a long, dense veil on the market, concealing her face entirely - even if Lan Yu happened to see her, she shouldn't be capable of recognising her.

This time, her heart beat faster as she approached the metal doors of the postal office, no longer feeling the same sense of safety as she did before. She pushed through them without hesitation, and came into the same room: wood and cloth, a smell of paper and ink, and a young man she had not seen before behind the counter. There was a queue of five people, and she waited patiently for her turn, looking around the room. Thankfully, nobody else present - not even the young postal worker - was a cultivator, which put her at ease.

"I would like to have a copy of the regional map," she said quietly, once the queue finally got to her, her voice rasping and pitched slightly differently from normal, on the off chance that Lan Yu was within earshot. "Here is my seal."

She handed over her new seal, and the man nodded, stamping it into the visitation book for the library.

"For the flying sword or regular navigation?"

"Both, please," she nodded, her veil moving slightly around her face.

"Alright," he said, getting up and stretching. "Let me show you to the library, though you'd have to wait for a while for the maps to be copied."

Young man locked up the cupboards behind the counter with a set of wooden shutters, picked up a pair of talisman lanterns from a hook near the door, handed one to her, and led her deep into the complex, lighting their way. She followed after, through narrow staircases and straight corridors, stepping carefully in the dim light of the lantern he carried. She kept her own turned off - these talismans had to be recharged with spiritual energy, and it seemed like a waste, even if she wouldn't be the one paying for the spirit stones to recharge them.

The library was small, the ceiling hanging lower than she was used to back in the Golden Rabbit Bay, but at least the smell of old books was a familiar one. The man pulled a lever near one of the walls, and with a grind of stone a set of shutters opened up, letting a shaft of light into the room. She took a seat at the reading table right below it, setting her unused lantern down on the floor.

"I'll send you the maps for copying in just a moment," the man said, heading off into the stacks.

She nodded to him and closed her eyes, focusing on the spiritual energy in her body to pass the time. She spent the time practicing moving it around her body, trying to get it to circulate in the right pattern to absorb more energy out of the air, but it was still far too sparse for it. It was a bit like trying to build a bridge that needed ten planks out of just nine - the twirls and loops of spiritual energy kept collapsing in on themselves, simply not strong enough to reach a point of stability. She was getting close, though.

When she heard footsteps approach, she opened her eyes again, and turned around expecting to see the man return, only to come face to face with the postmaster Lan Yu, holding two scroll cases and a book under her shoulder. Her face was locked in her usual mask of professionalism, and only the slight purse of her lips betrayed her mood.

"Fellow cultivator Qian Shanyi," she said in her same precise intonation, coming to a stop next to one of the other reading tables, and setting the scroll cases and her book down on it, "I did not expect to see you in my postal office ever again."

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Chapter 31: Bend The Laws Around Your Finger
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That had to be a bluff. There was no way Lan Yu could tell it was her, with her face concealed by a thick veil, completely different clothes, and with not even a word being spoken aloud. She even changed her sword for one of the ones she intended to sell.

It wasn't a bad bluff, but she could tell the other woman wasn't used to the dance. It laid all her cards straight on the table, told Qian Shanyi what Lan Yu was thinking and likely planning, letting her respond exactly how she wanted to. If it was her, she would have made her target talk about themselves first, laid some traps, made them tie themselves up in claims and commitments before she ever went on the attack.

She did not expect to meet Lan Yu at the post office, but of course she already planned out her actions just in case she ran into her. There were many possibilities for how it could happen, but this meeting still started out better than a good quarter of them.

Qian Shanyi felt her soul buzz in excitement. So what if the only thing between herself and total discovery was the thin fabric of the veil on her face? She had bluffed with less, in the past.

The postal office around them might have been Lan Yu's home, but this was Qian Shanyi's playing ground.

"You call me a fellow cultivator, yet you don't even know my name," she rasped out, tensing her vocal cords with what little spiritual energy she had to make her rasp stronger, and changing the pitch of her voice. She watched the postmaster's face carefully through small holes in her veil, looking for even the slightest change in expression. "It's Lan Yishan."

A slight crease marred Lan Yu's forehead, as her gaze flickered over her appearance, lingering for a moment longer on her sword. Qian Shanyi chuckled slightly, seeing the crease deepen by a fraction. Before she came to the post office, she deliberately spent twenty minutes coughing to overstrain her vocal cords just for such an occasion. She was no actress, and could not mimic the sound of another - but making her own voice unrecognizable was no hard feat.

"What do you hope to achieve by this?" Lan Yu asked, her eyes snapping back to Qian Shanyi's veiled face. "You have the same build and height. And to top it off - "

She picked up the book she brought with her, and in the dim light she recognised it as the library visitation ledger. Lan Yu flipped over to the last filled page, and turned it to face Qian Shanyi.

"You said your name is Lan Yishan? Lan is my family name."

"A common enough name, in the empire."

"And your personal name is Yishan - the characters may be different, but the sounds are the same as Shanyi."

Her claimed name was an easily admitted weakness, but one that did not arise out of thin air. Initially, she did not intend the identity of Lan Yishan to persist beyond her first conversation with Liu Fakuang. She picked the postmaster's family name because she happened to be on her mind at the time, and switched the sounds of her first name around as a test - if the spirit hunter noticed the similarity of their names, she intended to turn it into a joke, to deliberately forestall him establishing a connection between herself and the woman he was seeking. It was best to tie the idea of her being the same woman to humor right from the start, so that later on, he would subconsciously dismiss any other clues she might have left behind that pointed in the same direction.

Though, she had to admit that a part of her simply wanted to see if she could get away with it.

Liu Fakuang didn't end up noticing the similarity, and she did not bring it up herself, but once the details of an identity were in place, they were very hard to change. Not only was it much easier to further cement her identity in town by relying on someone with established rapport, but if she came up with a third name, she would have needed to avoid the spirit hunter entirely, lest he notice the inconsistency - something that would have been doubly hard, given that she intended to find a way to create a new seal for herself.

This was a common enough problem in deceptions - details established early on would lead to contradictions as time went on and the story began to develop additional details. This was one of the many reasons why deceptions had to always be treated as temporary, and ready to collapse at any moment.

"I hear accusations in your tone that I do not care for." Qian Shanyi said, putting her legs up on the seat opposite hers, as if she intended to spend the rest of the day here. Projecting confidence was crucially important: Lan Yu may have been ninety-eight percent certain that she was Qian Shanyi, but there were those two percent of nagging doubt. As long as they persisted, she would have a degree of protection - for example, she doubted Lan Yu would go as far as attempting to restrain her. Right now, the postmaster was standing in between her and the entrance, but should she get a bit distracted, or move to the other side of the room, Qian Shanyi would have an opportunity to safely escape and vanish into the wind. "Speak clearly."

"Lift up your veil and things will be clear as day."

"No."

"Why not?"

"At this point, sheer spite." Qian Shanyi laughed quietly. "You come here, make accusations and demands? I will not do what you want."

"I should simply call the spirit hunters on you."

She hadn't done so already? This was getting better by the second. Maybe she didn't even need to escape.

"Then do so and stop wasting my time." She sighed, waving her off carelessly and getting up from her chair. "I will enjoy seeing them come and embarrass you. Are those the maps I requested?"

She confidently headed towards the table with the maps. Lan Yu put a hand in front of her, and she sighed.

"Postmaster Lan, what do you hope to achieve by this charade?" She shook her head, enjoying the slight twitch of an eyebrow caused by her blatant hypocrisy. "You either believe I am this 'Qian Shanyi' - " she made quote marks in the air - "or you do not. If I am, then call the spirit hunters. If I am not, then give me the maps. Yet you do neither."

She truly would be fine with either. If the postmaster went off to call the spirit hunters, she'd flee while she was away. If she let her take the maps, she would just calmly walk out of the front door.

She could see the indecision warring within Lan Yu's mind. Indecision was one of the most common killers of those unused to gambling, and the most versatile weapon in the hands of those who knew how to use it. It served her well over the years.

When she stretched her hand to take the maps again, Lan Yu didn't stop her.

"What is it that this Qian Shanyi did in the first place?" she asked, unrolling the first map on one of the tables and pinning the corners with small weights. It was best to keep Lan Yu talking - there was a small chance she could find something that could convince her to not report her even after she left, "Kill someone?"

It took a couple moments for Lan Yu to respond.

"You are wanted for a conversation about the sale of an unregistered sword," she finally said.

"So she stole a sword?"

"No."

"No?" Qian Shanyi gave an inquisitive stare to the other woman. "You sound awfully sure of that."

"Whenever an artifact is stolen, a report is made to the postal office," Lan Yu said, "These reports are collected into lists in regional centers, and sent all over the empire. The news travels quickly. Whenever an artifact is sold, it is checked against these lists. After the spirit hunters surprised me with the news, I sent a request to the neighboring towns for their updated copies. In the week since, not one of them had a sword that fit the description of the one you were trying to sell. It's almost impossible for the sword to have been stolen."

"And if it was…not reported?" She raised an eyebrow, smoothing out the second map on the next table over.

"If a theft is not reported, it concerns neither the empire nor the postal office," Lan Yu said.

"Then what is it that you accuse this 'Qian Shanyi' of? If she didn't steal the sword, and the sale did not occur, what precisely is the problem?"

"What is the problem?" Lan Yu said, and she could hear a hint of actual anger in her voice now, "What is the problem?! I told you what the problem was when we first spoke! The rules we have are written in blood! The almanac is there so cultivators know not to kill each other. The imperators are there to mediate before you try. The spirit hunters are there to catch those who succeed. And the post office is there to warn others, so that before you even think about starting a feud that will end with six hundred people dead, you will know, in the very shell of your brain, that you will be found for certain, that the empire will hunt you to the ends of the world for as long as you live like the animal that you are!"

That felt too specific, too personal. She couldn't recall any demonic cultivator attacks that killed six hundred people, but that meant little. She never kept up with those news, and the empire was enormous.

Personal was good. It was something she could use.

"Luminous Lotus Pavilion, was written on your seal," Lan Yu continued, "You are a sect runaway, aren't you? Not the first one I see. All of you have your own stories, but the way you think is all the same. You are trying to escape, find safety? But you refuse to follow the rules we made to protect you from each other! And now a fairly small matter of a sword sale has turned into you having a false seal! So tell me, why?! Why do this?"

"Why?!" She hissed, flicking her veil away from her face with one hand. The opportunity, once presented, had to be pounced on with conviction - the time for hiding has passed, and she didn't bother putting effort into her voice anymore. "I'll tell you why! You were right, Lan is your name - one I picked out of respect for what you do here, but that is exactly why I couldn't come here in the open! You said the empire is the post office - that as long as mail can reach me, I am in the empire. But the rules you speak of will cut me off from it, as soon as you tell my sect where I am! You say the rules are in place to protect me? I say they will bury me in a hole so deep no light can reach the bottom! By hiding my face, I hoped to save you the need to make this choice - who are you loyal to, Lan Yu? To the postal office, or to the sects?"

"Don't be melodramatic. No sect would dare cut you off from our mail," Lan Yu said, pursing her lips, "it's one of the few reasons why the empire ever chooses to bring its hammer down. It's even in the sect accords! Any sect that tried would get a slaughter post put through their gates."

"I know our history as well," Qian Shanyi sneered, "But there is so much variability there, is there not? They may not technically cut me off, but what does that mean? Do they have to provide me with more than a finger width of paper per month to write on? More than a sliver of graphite to write with? Do they have to make sure all my fingers are intact, and not broken from training? Who, precisely, will defend my rights then? Will you do it, Lan Yu?"

The postmaster paused, and she could see she had no good response.

"This is all just rhetoric," Lan Yu finally said, "even if your sect did that, this problem had nothing to do with it. It was you not coming to the empire for a simple conversation."

"The empire is required to drag me back. There is no difference here."

"No. It is not." Lan Yu shook her head.

Qian Shanyi gave her a confused look. That was a completely bizarre thing to say. Everyone knew that the empire returned runaways to their sects, what was the point in pretending otherwise?

"That you do not know this is yet another reason why you should have talked to us," Lan Yu sighed, "legally, the empire is only required to assist in a retrieval after a sect makes a concrete request for assistance, including the identity and location of a given runaway. The empire is not obligated to do anything whatsoever until then, nor is it required to inform the sects about any information they may or may not lack."

The difference felt subtle in wording, but massive in practice, and Qian Shanyi quickly realized the implications. They could pretend that any given runaway did not exist, putting the onus of tracking entirely on the sect, even if the empire itself could easily tell what was going on. It was a cheap way for them to sap the strength of sects - and perhaps even secrets, if a given person happened to know something important.

There was, of course, a problem with that logic.

"Oh please," Qian Shanyi sneered, "is that meant to be reassuring? What guarantee do I have that a spirit hunter would not check in with my sect just in case, to ask about my character, or to see if perhaps I did steal the sword from them after all? After they knew where that question came from, I couldn't take it back. I might as well wrap myself up with a gift bow and wait for them to come to me."

"What reason would a spirit hunter have to do that?"

"No." She stepped towards Lan Yu. "Reason? That's not good enough, not when I have the entire life ahead of me, decades of time where so many things can happen. I can't trust every single person that will ever see my seal to be reasonable. No, I can either lie to the empire once, and get a new seal. Or I can stop dealing with the empire altogether. Which would you prefer I do, Lan Yu?"

"I would prefer it if you didn't violate the law." Lan Yu narrowed her eyes.

"I am a good cultivator." Qian Shanyi poked herself in the chest. "I have not killed anyone. I have stolen nothing. I have never, in my entire life, practiced any forbidden cultivation technique. The only thing I want to do is cultivate in peace and earn some money! By all rights, my skills can help the empire. So look me in the eyes and tell me that the empire would be safer if you followed the rules here than if you did not."

They stared each other down for a long while, saying nothing.

"I am the postmaster," Lan Yu finally said, "I will not let you violate the postal rules."

Qian Shanyi tensed, waiting for her to finish.

"But the post office does not make the seals," Lan Yu continued, "I suppose I don't have to inform that office of what I know."

Qian Shanyi sighed, tension going out of her body.

"I believe you wanted copies made?" Lan Yu said, approaching the tables she spread the maps on, "Let's get them done. I am supposed to be on leave today, and my books are waiting."

Author Note 2: If you'd like to read two chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon for a low low price of 3$ per month.

I also now have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics, and perhaps read some semi-exclusive worldbuilding notes. Come hang out!
 
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Chapter 32: Chart Your Path Through Lines Of Math
Qian Shanyi watched Lan Yu copy the maps with fascination. It was pure cultivation, raw shaping of spiritual energy - something she had been missing with all this business of luck and heavens and almost dying or being sent back to her sect. Cultivating Three Obediences Four Virtues felt good, that much was true - but there was always that tint to it, of needing to do it for her own safety. But here, she could simply enjoy the spectacle for what it was - just like she did back in the Golder Rabbit Bay, when the occasion presented itself.

Lan Yu covered one of the tables with a wide sheet of white paper and stretched the map over it, smoothing it out with careful strokes of her fingers. The only light source left in the room was a single talisman lantern hanging just above the table, and her movements sent shadows dancing all across the room.

With a flick of her wrist, a small inkwell and brush fell into her palm from the sleeve of her robes, and Qian Shanyi felt spiritual energy spread out from the postmaster. It stretched over the map, and she heard the quiet crumple of paper as it lifted a single finger width into the air. The brush danced in Lan Yu's fingers, slashing through a series of complex characters, and a single drop of ink flew out of the inkwell, vanishing underneath the map. Bending low, she saw it split up, stretch, and spread into a pattern, covering the entire white sheet in those areas where dark lines were projected from the map above by the incoming light.

With another flick of the wrist, the original map flew back into Lan Yu's hands, leaving an identical copy to dry on the table.

A simple technique, applied for a complex purpose. Qian Shanyi wished she could have learned it from this one glance, but there was no chance of that - she had no way to observe the circulation of spiritual energy within Lan Yu's body, and that was the most important part.

"That will be four silver yuan," Lan Yu told her once both maps were left out to dry, "Six if you also want a scroll case for them."

"Quite expensive." She sighed, taking out her gold pouch and counting out the coins, "But I suppose you need to pay for the craftsmanship."

"I don't set the prices," Lan Yu said, taking the money, and giving her a strict look, "Don't make me regret giving you a chance… Lan Yishan."

She smiled, nodded, and settled down to wait for the ink to dry.

Twenty minutes later, maps in a scroll case over her shoulder and a bag of supplies in hand, she made her way out of the town and up into the hills surrounding the canyon. She dropped her veil down, of course - there was no need to tempt fate by having yet another person recognise her.

Soon, she found a wide flat area to set herself up. It was time to triangulate.

The heavenly vow (and the corresponding narrow luck) let her know when she was looking in Wang Yonghao's direction, but that, by itself, was not enough. She needed a much more precise measurement: not only a vague direction, but the exact angle she could use to draw lines on a map. For this, she needed to craft a dioptra: a tool for measuring angles between points on the landscape.

Dioptra itself was a simple device, merely an angle compass with a plank attached that could be used to sight down objects. The market did not sell them, for most people had no need for surveying tools, especially in a small town the size of Xiaohongshan. Fortunately, the materials were easy to find.


The first step was making an angle compass: a piece of wood with regular angles marked out. She couldn't find it at the market - the only alternative she saw was a geomantic compass that was far too expensive for her needs - but making one herself was not too difficult.

First, she used a length of thread ten meters long to trace out a wide circle around the small board that would be her compass. Then, she folded her thread in half four times in a row, and used it to mark out regular sectors on the traced circle. With a bit of mental math, she knew that each of them would represent about three point six degrees of arc length.

The rest was tedious work. She tied her thread to a pair of stakes to form a line between the center of the circle and its edge, and started to mirror the markings on the smaller board in the middle. Stick a stake into a point at the edge of a sector - run to the center of the circle - mark out the position of the thread against the board with a tiny brush, making sure to keep the thread straight and undisturbed - run back to the edge of the circle - move the stake one point over - repeat. It took her a good half an hour, in the end.

She could have done it faster by making a smaller circle - but the larger the circle, the smaller the angular errors would be, and since she only needed to do this once, she wanted the scale to be as accurate as possible.

With the angle compass complete, she hammered it into the stool for support, and quickly made the sighting plank - witht wo nails on each end to sight down the objects on the landscape, one nail to support it against the exact center of the angle compass, letting the plank swing around freely, and a final nail pointing to the angular markings on the side.

One might have thought that the only thing left was to take out her divination bottle and start measuring, but it was not quite so simple. The further away she faced from the "right" direction, the more the dice would tell her to turn back; but this change occurred quite slowly. At best, she could only narrow down Wang Yonghao's direction to a thirty degree wide arc.

Instead, she needed to figure out where the boundaries of this "right" arc were. About fifteen degrees to the right from the center the bottle would begin to tell her to turn left, dice counts shifting until she was a full thirty degrees off, at which point they started to level off again. Results of each individual roll varied, and so she averaged them out, making three rolls for every individual direction, writing down the angles where the dice counts crossed certain boundaries. An average of these measurements for each side of the arc was bound to be its actual center.

Once she had that number, she got up off her knees, and spent five minutes stretching her tired neck and back. She felt stiff all over: if she ever rebuilt this dioptra, she would use a stool tall enough that she could actually stand next to it.

With the right angle in mind, she marked down her position on the map and drew a long line to the very edge of the paper, in the direction of Wang Yonghao.

Halfway done. Now she just needed to do it all over again, at a spot a couple miles away.

She packed up the stool and sighting plank into her bag, hefted it over her shoulder, and sprinted off, her breathing as regular as a clock. The bag shifted awkwardly on her back, hitting her in the shoulder and making her gait awkward, and it took her a couple minutes to find a good way to hold it stable.

As she ran, she sank into the flow, and let her thoughts run free. Last night was a low point for her, but the morning brought clarity with it, and she felt her worries begin to dissolve away. She had a way to find Yonghao. She had money for travel. She had even managed to convince Lan Yu to not report her - and if she knew anything about people, that was a solid conviction, not a fleeting one. And even though the vow still rested heavily in her mind, she already knew what she was going to do about it - the only thing remaining was to put her plans in motion.

Just like the skies were the darkest just before the dawn, her times of despair were surely about to end.

Halfway through her run, her spiritual energy had finally recovered enough for her to spin it into a self-sustaining loop, and she held it carefully, slowly pulling more and more spiritual energy out of the forest air. It only got easier from there, and she pushed herself to run faster, grinning as she hopped over roots and flew over small chasms, her bags feeling lighter with every minute. Even after almost a decade of cultivation, the joy of moving with the help of spiritual energy did not get any less exhilarating - she could only imagine how good surfing on a flying sword must be.

She laughed, kicking off a tall tree and grabbing a tall rock outcropping, easily hefting herself over the edge. One more measurement. Just one more, and she'd know exactly where Yonghao was. Finally, it was all coming together.

The hills next to the town swiftly turned into a forest, but what she needed was an open area, one where she could sight local landmarks to determine her precise position, so it took her almost an hour to find a good clearing to set up. Thankfully, at least she no longer needed it to be flat.

Her heart beat faster as she did her measurements, and she had to force it to still, lest she make a mistake. When she was done, she brought out the map, her hands trembling with worry that somehow, it would all fall apart at the last second, and drew the second line.

The lines crossed, on a city a hundred and fifty kilometers away.

"Yes!" She cheered, leaping into the air, laughing maniacally.

It worked, it actually worked! Up until the last moment, she was sure it would somehow fail.

To celebrate, she pulled out her sword, spun a thread control technique around her silk rope, and swung from tree to tree, slicing off leaves and branches. If only she could actually fly, or circulate a more impressive technique - something like the Honk of the Solar Goose, one that could make blasts of sword light - but that too would come, in time.

Ten minutes later, and still grinning from ear to ear, she landed back down on the forest clearing, and took out the second map. It was time to plan her travel.

The map for flying sword navigation was accurate to the terrain - helpful for those flying through the sky, who had nothing else to navigate by except geographic landmarks - and thus also great for triangulation, but entirely useless for regular travel. A kilometer in the sky was always the same, no matter what was below your feet - but back down on the ground, going ten kilometers downstream would take perhaps an hour in a good boat, whereas ten kilometers across a mountain range could easily take several days. If you wanted to plan your travels, you needed a different map entirely - one that redrew the world in terms of times and routes, more of a graph of movement than a pictorial representation of terrain.

She quickly found the city in question, and after a bit rof calculation, she had her figure. Five days, assuming no delays. She would have to travel downsteam, and then upstream a different tributary.

She spent a week in this town, but Wang Yonghao was a mere five days away from her. Really, she was ahead of the curve.

"Well, Yonghao," she whispered, getting up off the ground and pointing her sword in his direction, grinning maliciously, "shall we see wherever the mouse can truly escape the fox?"

"What do you mean, you do not have a spot?" she asked, growing irritated, "I asked you yesterday, and we all but agreed on the job then and there. Now I am merely asking to be ferried downstream for a couple days. What changed?"

"I must apologize, honorable immortal Lan," the older merchant bowed deeply, "but the traveler cabins have all been filled up since then."

"I don't need a cabin," she sighed. This was the third time in a row she was getting the runaround, and it didn't get any less baffling. "I can sleep on the deck itself if need be. I can cook and protect your vessel, for free - how do you not have a spot?"

"All the same," - the merchant shrugged - "we don't have any space."

She closed her eyes, rubbing them in frustration, and then turned and walked away without saying goodbye. It was rude, but if the fucker wanted her to be polite, he shouldn't have been lying straight to her face.

Yesterday, while she was seeking out rumors about Wu Lanhua, she also asked a fair few people wherever they could let her travel on their ship. Most agreed immediately, and in fact were asking if they could hire her on for a long term contract. Today, it was like all of them changed their minds overnight, and marked her out as an outcast.

What could have happened? Did she piss off someone important back at the party? But she barely even talked to anyone...

This setback could not even begin to dampen her incredible mood, but she needed to think, and so she paid for a small teapot of jasmine tea from a street vendor and settled down at one of the tables in front of his stall to relax. A couple other customers gave her elegant robes assessing looks, but made no comments, and her veiled hat hid her expression from sight. After the run into the forest and then back into town, the cheap tea smelled sweet, like a heavenly medicine.

Her cup paused on the way to her lips, as gears finally clicked in her head. She put it down without taking a sip, and cursed that emerald-dressed snake of a woman. That sent some more looks her way, but she ignored them - thankfully, she at least brought herself short of saying the name out loud.

Wu Lanhua must have sent a message to the other merchants in town in the morning, none of whom would want to pick a fight with the biggest magnate if they could avoid it. Back then, she wondered why she didn't try to push her to stay during their breakfast, but this explained it - she was just stalling for time. It was probably also why she invited her to sleep overnight, and why she wasn't worried about giving Qian Shanyi her seal, even though it gave up a measure of control.

Her goal was obvious - it made it harder for Qian Shanyi to leave town. There were two reasons why she might have decided to do this: a bad one, and an annoying one. Either way, she would have to go talk to the woman to find out what her intentions were.

She sighed, closed her eyes, and sipped from her tea cup. The tea really was nice, and there was no reason to waste it.

She'd go talk to her right away.

Just… not until her teapot was empty.

"Ah, Yishan! What a fortunate meeting," Wu Lanhua smiled, meeting her eyes. She found her in the middle of ordering around some sailors in the docks, loading up boxes onto a slender, long ship with sails that seemed like the wings of a perched bird, ready to set flight.

"Ah, honorable merchant Wu," she responded in a flat tone, coming closer. The sailors quickly left the two of them alone. "Are you behind all ships in Xiaohongshan mysteriously barring me from boarding?"

"Barring you from boarding?" Wu Lanhua fluttered her eyelashes, "What a travesty. But where might you be headed?"

"Downstream," she said, "I hope you realize you cannot prevent me from leaving? I will hitch a ride uninvited, if need be."

"Whyever would I want to prevent you from leaving, Yishan?" Wu Lanhua shook her head. "I am saddened to see my friend leave us so soon, but I could hardly stop you. But if you are heading downstream, could I perhaps offer my own ship? It is the fastest in the city, and I just happened to head in the same direction."

So it was the annoying reason: she wanted to control how she left, force them to travel together, perhaps to give her more time to persuade her to stay.

"Why this charade? You could have told me you intended to do this in the morning." She shook her head.

"You didn't even know where you were headed this morning," Wu Lanhua pointed out, raising an eyebrow, "and besides, I would have thought you would ask me before the others."

Qian Shanyi didn't want to ask her exactly because she didn't want her to know where she was headed.

She snorted, leaning in close to Wu Lanhua, the veil around her hat almost touching her face.

"Are you quite sure about what you said that night?" She whispered quietly, "Pushing me to travel with you, together on the same ship? Does this not look like courtship?"

Wu Lanhua did not even offer her the courtesy of blushing.

"Please, Yishan," she said instead, "Liu Fakuang would be traveling with us, of course, for we have to settle some things before our wedding. I hope you can refrain from impropriety?"

Qian Shanyi pursed her lips. Traveling together with that karmist bastard… She doubted she could avoid a confrontation if they spent more time together. Hiding her contraband swords would be bad enough, but by far the greatest trouble would be in keeping her mouth shut about what she thought about him.

Wu Lanhua knew it, too - probably intended it to scare her off her chase after Wang Yonghao. How naive.

"Well, lead the way, honorable merchant Wu." Qian Shanyi gave her a mocking bow, "Let us set off right away, on our small river journey."

Author Note: If you'd like to read two chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.

Thanks for reading!​
 
Chapter 33: Scribe The Stolen Lore Of Heavens
Qian Shanyi sliced off yet another tentacle of an enormous monster just a moment before it could batter her into mush, a creature of slime and shifting horror, and its blood and ichor bathed her from head to toe. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She had been fighting for what felt like hours, and she needed to find a way out now, or else she would soon be dead. She had to escape, she -

She frowned. This…Didn't make sense. How did she get here?

The monster swung at her again, and she dashed away, breaking out of the fight. They were inside of an enormous stone temple, walls lined with statues, and as her gaze swung over the hall, she felt a sense of unreality. There were stone benches down on the floor, but far too tall for normal people, six on the left and nine on the right, asymmetric and not even lined up in rows. As her eyes flickered over the lines, she saw three more benches appear on the left, their shapes shifting, blending, as her mind made them arrange into rows again…

"Oh," she said, her frown vanishing, "I am dreaming."

She fixed her gaze upon the monster, and guided her mind to relax, letting her concentration wander away. The monster shifted, and began dissolving, the temple around them following suit, turning into a cloud of vines, and from there into a windy forest of mushrooms and spiderwebs.

Back in the Golden Rabbit Bay, she once stumbled upon a book about lucid dreaming, and in her search for every possible cultivation advantage she could muster, spent a good three months practicing the techniques within when she went to sleep. Her hope was that it would allow her to cultivate in her sleep - that way, she could make up for the lack of support from her sect. Sadly, this was not to be. A cultivator could no more consciously control their spiritual energy in their sleep than a person could decide to get up and cook a meal - unless they were a sleepwalker, it was flat out impossible, and even if they were, what they did would be entirely unpredictable, under no conscious control.

In retrospect, even if she could have managed it, such an approach would have been flatly suicidal. Sleepwalkers hurt themselves all the time, and messing up the flow of spiritual energy within her body could have easily led to her overloading one of her dantians and blowing it up, and all the neighboring organs alongside it.

She supposed it made sense: if lucid dreaming could have been used for cultivation, the book would not have been left out in the open access section of their library, where even non-cultivators could read it. Still, she did end up picking up a couple tricks that made sleeping much more enjoyable. For one, dealing with nightmares became almost trivial.

Dreams had no true logic of their own, and could not be controlled, but there were ways to affect the events, ride the flow of associations where you wanted it to go. Trying to think of a topic - or actively trying to ignore one, which was much the same in a dream - would only rarely get you there directly. The trick was to not focus on any given thing too much - but to accept whatever the dream threw at you, give it some token attention, and then let it sink back into the flow, gently pushing the images in the desired direction.

Qian Shanyi made herself relax, and focused on her memories of the sunny beaches of the Golden Rabbit Bay. Instead, she ended up in a bowl of sand, horizon curling up above her, where the ocean flowed upwards into the sky, and the sun shone with a cold green light.

She settled down on the sand, this dream not even granting her a proper body, merely the sense of sight, and watched fishes drift upwards into the sky like birds migrating for winter.

Qian Shanyi woke up in her cabin on the Lunar Whisper, Wu Lanhua's personal yacht. The sun was only just starting to rise, its dim rays poking through the curtains, and she allowed herself a few minutes of lazing about amid the silk sheets of her bed.

Yesterday, she got Wu Lanhua to sign a contract with her, making her one of the two cooks on the yacht - that way, she would be paid a respectable five silver yuan per day for the duration of their travels. She would have to cook for the sailors, but compared to her workload at the ramen shop, this was nothing, and that left her plenty of time to do her own research.

She lifted her head and looked at the table, still covered in papers full of calculations of spiritual energy flows, as she tried to cut down the needle control technique from Three Obediences Four Virtues to something she could actually execute. She got through about a third of the linear algebra in the evening before she gave up and went to bed, her mind aching softly from the exertion. Every individual calculation was simple, but there was an absolute ton of them, and she had to pay complete attention to every single one, because even a single error could make the entire technique explode in her face as soon as she tried it.

She stretched her hands under the sheets, enjoying the soft feel of silk on her skin. She was not looking forward to continuing, but it had to be done. Worse still, she'd have to do this math twice, just to check her work.

Alright, enough laziness. Time to get to work.

She got up from the bed, tied a silk rope around her waist, circulated her thread control technique to hook the other end securely around the window's ledge, and dived down into the river below. The cold water shocked the last vestiges of sleep out of her system, and she spent some time swimming next to the yacht, as part of her daily exercise.

Even with her muscles enhanced by spiritual energy, she couldn't keep up with the ship's speed, and soon enough the rope stretched until she decided to pull herself back in. She climbed through the window, shook herself free from the water, dressed, and threw one last hateful glare at the desk full of math before leaving the cabin.

She'd get back to them eventually. Just as soon as she did an inventory of the ship's pantries, planned out the day's meals with the other chef, made breakfast for everyone…

Who knows, perhaps something else would come up.

Wu Lanhua didn't lie about her yacht's speed: even though they stopped in several towns on the way, where she had to handle some business of hers, they were still traveling a good deal faster than her original plan accounted for, and indeed faster than any other boat she could find. This left her with some time to go through the local libraries for pieces of knowledge while they were moored in port.

Her first priority was finding information about heavenly tribulations. In fact, every post office had just the book she needed, one she read many years ago and largely forgotten - a complete index of all known forms of heavenly tribulation - but of course she could not ask for it directly. It was commonly accepted that the heavens either could not read, or at least had significant trouble doing so - one of the many reasons they could not fully understand the world of cultivators - but they could hear, and so if she asked, out loud, for the book about heavenly tribulations she was sure that even the distant heavens would quickly wise up to her game, and break off the vow she made.

Second priority was general information about the heavens, which ran into much the same issue. For both of those, she would need to get into the library for an inconspicuous reason and be left alone to browse the stacks, where she could find the books she needed. That brought her to her third priority: information about luck, world fragments, or tracking methods, in case she would need something more on top of her vow to find Wang Yonghao. Asking about these topics should be safe, and also grant her the access she could use to research what she really wanted.

When she asked about luck at the local postal office, they directed her to the Scarlet River Dance sect, and she decided to follow their advice. This was not unusual: the book selection at any individual postal office was by necessity small, mostly focusing on topics of general interest. Sect libraries, on the other hand, tended to collect all sorts of rare and unusual tomes, and would generally allow outsiders to peruse those that contained no particular secrets, for a small price. Luminous Lotus Pavilion tended to get at least a couple visitors every day for that exact purpose.

Scarlet River Dance seemed less prepared to answer these sorts of requests - close to the frontier as it was, she supposed they got less scholarly traffic than a major city like the Golden Rabbit Bay. Instead of leading her to their outer sect library, they showed her to a small visitation room, and left her there to wait.

And wait…

And wait some more…

How long could finding a single book possibly take? She even told them the title. Did they not have a library index?

She was glad she brought her writing set with her to make notes, and spent the time working on the mathematics behind her needle control technique. Some parts of the problem could be split off from the larger whole, and thus could be made much easier to check without redoing thousands of equations.

Finally, almost an hour after she came here, the doors opened and let through the younger cultivator who initially greeted her, and an older one. Neither of them was dressed as a sect elder, but by how the younger man walked behind and bowed his head, she could tell that the older man had a greater position in the sect. Perhaps he was responsible for the library?

They also didn't bring any books.

"You asked for the Seventeen Flows of Luck? It is not available," the older cultivator told her, not even bothering to ask for her name or introduce himself. He had a haughty air about himself that immediately put her on edge.

"The postal office directed me here," she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was it already loaned out?"

"No, it is here," he said, "but we cannot loan it out to a loose cultivator."

"A loan is not necessary - I would be fine to read it here," she said, gesturing to her writing set, "I could take notes."

"These are delicate books," the older man said, "we can't afford them to be damaged by careless handling."

"I have been trained in book handling techniques," she frowned, already seeing where this conversation was heading, "this isn't the first library I visit."

"Loose cultivators such as yourself could hardly be expected to be trained properly," he waved his hand dismissively, "perhaps it's good enough for the empire, but not for my library."

"This isn't the first sect library I visit either."

"I would like to see what sect that might have been."

"Are you accusing me of lying?" she asked, her voice growing cold. "I have dueled men for less in the past."

"I would never question the word of a… fellow honorable cultivator, of course," he said, not even looking at her. She saw his lips twitch in disdain at the words. "It is just that different sects have different standards, and we pride ourselves in ours."

Her implicit threat of the duel was more than a little hollow - she was only staying in town for a couple hours, and couldn't risk delaying her ship - but it had to be made, if for no other reason than to keep up appearances, lest they talk and rumors spread to other towns. A cultivator that was not willing to put their life on the line to defend their honor at the first slight had no honor at all.

It took her a good while to grasp why, for of course nobody bothered explaining the system, but forced as she was to look at it mostly from the outside, the patterns became clear over time.

Cultivators' honor grew out of a simple need to trust each other. When someone borrowed money from you, you needed to trust that they would return it. If you accepted a new cultivator into the sect, you needed to trust that they would not simply run off with all the sect secrets as soon as you let them enter the sect library. Even something as simple as hiring someone to fix your fence required a degree of trust.

Of course, sometimes, blind trust was not required: if you hired someone to kill a demon beast, and they came back with its head, you could know for sure that it died. But most of the time, things were not quite so convenient. Often enough, people disagreed about what happened, and there was no way for others to tell who was in the right.

So what did you do?

If someone came from a well-known sect or family, they could rely on their reputation, for others would trust them not to sabotage it with a simple lie. If someone was wealthy, they could stake their word on their wealth, and pay out handsomely if a lie was revealed. But what could someone stake if they had neither?

The only thing they could stake was their life.

If everyone knew that should someone challenge your word, you would risk your life and limb to fight them, then not only would they not accuse you over nothing - they could also trust you not to lie, for every lie risked your life, were someone willing to challenge it. That is what honor was, at the end of the day: the seal built out of blood. The word of an honorable cultivator could be trusted, but they could only remain honorable if they would put their life on the line every single time to defend it.

That, in turn, meant that if you could not - or would not - defend yourself, or even risk your life, you had no honor.

Hence: women, children, mortals and cowards.

Of course, nowadays a woman could run you through with a flying sword just as well as a man, but the perception stuck around, and that was the only thing that truly mattered. A challenge from a cultivator without any honor could, of course, be safely refused, such a refusal not bringing shame in the eyes of others.

If you had honor, you had to guard it jealously, for if you ever lost it, it was almost impossible to claw it back.

If you never had any in the first place…

Even if she challenged him, and he agreed, and she won, his sect might simply decide to retaliate against her anyways - and of course she would not be seeing the books she needed.

"Is there anything I could do to convince you otherwise?" she said. "Perhaps I could put some money in an imperial escrow, in case you deem the book too damaged by my hands?"

"Hmm," he said, "perhaps an escrow of two hundred spirit stones would be enough."

"Two hundred spirit stones?!" She scowled. "This is ridiculous. The book itself could not cost even a tenth of that."

"The price is final, and standard for our library." He shrugged. His eyes bore into her, daring her to disagree.

Bastard.

She quickly gathered her things, and got up from her seat.

"Thank you for your time," she said neutrally, and headed out the doors. She would just have to try in the next town over. There was bound to be a sect that was more cooperative - the only question was if she could find one before she caught up with Wang Yonghao, because by then it would be a little too late.

She spent the rest of her time ashore in the postal office library, trying to do the best she could with the meager book selection. She found the aptly named Comprehensive Tribulation Index, and copied down the relevant sections, which took up most of her time.

If she was to survive her tribulation, the first step was knowing which of about a hundred different tribulation forms she would have to face. This was, of course, a matter of guesswork, but the heavens tended to favor some forms over the others. The most common of them was also the most straightforward - a bolt of tribulation lightning from the skies straight at your head. In fact, every form of tribulation started out with three strikes of tribulation lightning - a little warning from the heavens, just to make sure you were paying attention.

Dealing with the lightning was hard, but manageable - with a strong enough body, spiritual shield, and some talisman formations a prepared cultivator could pass through it without too much trouble - but she very much doubted her tribulation would take this simple form. If her suspicions were correct, and the heavens were paying personal attention to Wang Yonghao, then by rebuffing them she would be getting a tribulation perfectly tailored to kill her dead. If she was to survive it, she had to guess which tribulation form they would pick based on what they knew of her, and then prepare her countermeasures without the heavens cottoning on to her schemes.

It was, in other words, a very traditional gamble, only played with the world as the board and her life at stake.

Thankfully, she was not playing entirely blind. The vow in her mind felt different from one hour to another, angrier when their boat stopped in a town, and settling down when they were making progress down the river again - it wanted her to find Wang Yonghao, and made this desire known. Through this vow, she could have some handle on the heaven's opinion of her actions.

After she returned to the boat with her notes in hand, she once again traced Wang Yonghao's position from the safety of her cabin. He didn't stay in the same city: instead, he was moving, but they were still gaining up on him.

The only question was if they were closing the distance fast enough, or too fast by far. If she caught up with him before she was ready to face her tribulation, she would die, but if she took too long, then the heavens would figure out her lies, send the tribulation down while she slept, and she would still die.

They soon set off, and she rested on the ship's bow, waxing river wind passing through her hair like the hands of a lover, making her plans.

How could she help Yonghao break his curse of luck, if she couldn't even be sure she would be alive by the end of the month?

Was she heading to her death, or to her ascension?

There was only a razor-sharp line between the two, and human feet bled when one walked on razors.

Author Note: My backlog had expanded once again - if you'd like to read five chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.

Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 34: Slap The Lips That Drip With Blood
In the evening, she cooked and served dinner for Wu Lanhua and Liu Fakuang. The kitchen on the boat shared the room with a small dining table, so that important guests could enjoy watching the cooks work, and they spent the cooking time in pleasant conversation before she joined them for the meal itself.

Together with the other chef, they made a hearty fish soup - from the fish she caught herself, after she tried her hand at fishing using her rope control techniques. Moving the fishing line underwater was difficult, and only made more so by the control line slipping out of her fingers, but she was going to keep practicing - she came far too close to death in her battle with that giant black fish back in the forest. In the end, she only managed to catch a single fish, but it was enough for the three of them.

"It's truly a shame you won't be staying with us." Wu Lanhua sighed, blowing softly on her spoon. "I forget when was the last time I could enjoy fish cooked by an immortal chef."

"You live right next to a river," she said, raising her eyebrows, "I would have expected most of your meals to include fish of some fashion."

"Our previous immortal chef specialized in beef," Wu Lanhua said. "He all but refused to cook anything else, and there is only so much you can force a cultivator to go against their wishes. His skills were great, and he knew hundreds of ways to prepare it, but my stomach does not tolerate it well. It was still better than the cooking of a mortal chef, of course, but only just."

"A chef is supposed to tailor the meal to the tastes of the customers, not force the customers to adhere to their own tastes," she said, quoting from Three Obediences Four Virtues, and shaking her head. "It's a novice mistake to make."

"Would you believe me this woman told me she could hardly be credited for her cooking skills?" Wu Lanhua turned to Liu Fakuang. "Yet here she is casually pointing out mistakes our prior chef made without even meeting him. You should have more respect for your skills, Yishan."

"Would you believe me she told me she is a regional trader of little fame or wealth?" Qian Shanyi smiled, also turning to Liu Fakuang.

Wu Lanhua laughed, and the conversation turned to Liu Fakuang. He was telling them about his work - meeting with local spirit hunters, to share news, coordinate, and receive orders that couldn't be sent through the post - and she was keeping the conversation going with a mask of polite interest, until something he said caught her off guard.

"Recently a lot of work is about trying to predict and prevent demonic cultivator attacks, like that recent one in Golden Rabbit Bay -" he said.

Qian Shanyi's spoon paused for a fraction of a second, the words registering in her mind. Wu Lanhua nodded to Liu Fakuang, thankfully not looking at her, and she put her spoon down, focusing fully on the conversation.

"What happened in Golden Rabbit Bay?" she asked, keeping her tone casual through force of will.

"Oh, you haven't heard?" he asked, looking at her. "It was big news about a week ago."

"I don't follow the rumors much, I am afraid." She shook her head. "Unless it concerns cooking or cultivation."

"Demonic cultivators left spiritual bombs all over the city, about two and a half weeks ago," Liu Fakuang said, "then tried to steal from one of the largest sects in the confusion. We've been on alert ever since."

Two and a half weeks. That would put it at the exact day when Wang Yonghao fled the city. He did mention some explosions…

"How -" she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, "how many dead?"

"Somewhere north of half a thousand," he said, "it wasn't in our reports, just what the postrunners have been saying. If you want to know more, you could write to the imperial office in Golden Rabbit Bay."

They are fine, she told herself, It's a big city. The probability is just not there.

Could she find out for sure? Not safely, but perhaps there was a way…

She shook her head slightly to clear it. Either her family was safe, or they were already dead. If they were alive, they would get her letter and know she was alive, not pulverized in an explosion. If they were dead, they were beyond her help, and there would be time to grieve later. Her father would have wanted her to stay safe instead of risking her obscurity by sending more letters, she was sure.

"Did you know someone there?" Liu Fakuang asked her, noticing her momentary pause.

"Only distant acquaintances," she lied, "but five hundred dead… It is shocking."

"It is," Wu Lanhua agreed.

"Their heavenly souls are in a better place now," Liu Fakuang said.

Qian Shanyi felt rage bubbling in her heart, but kept it away from her face. How did he dare say that?

"We can only hope they find the ones responsible," Wu Lanhua said.

"There are many diviners in the Golden Rabbit Bay," Liu Fakuang said, "Heavens are sure to show them the way."

"I doubt it would be so simple," Shanyi said, shaking her head dismissively. There was no real benefit to starting a fight, but she couldn't simply let it go.

"What do you mean?" Wu Lanhua turned to her.

"Nothing, really," she said, "I am not a spirit hunter, so it's hardly my place to speak."

"Hmm. What a curious thing to say," Wu Lanhua said, steepling her fingers, "do you not have faith in divination, Yishan?"

"Faith?" She blinked, enjoying a chance to move the conversation away from her real objection. "Hardly. It's an imprecise art at the best of times - there is a reason why it was hit the hardest by the reformation. History books are replete with examples of ancient divination arts that were revealed to not work at all, merely confirming what the cultivator already wanted to hear - hence 'confirmation bias'. The only thing less deserving of blind faith is our understanding of luck."

"Yet there are many diviners among the imperial spirit hunters, are there not?"

"The techniques work, when applied with great care." She shrugged. "It is the myth of how effective they are that I have a problem with. No theater play seems to be complete without a diviner who tracks down a cultivator across the entire empire, knowing exactly where they are at all times - something that is, best as I know, flatly impossible."

The irony of her doing exactly that with Wang Yonghao left a tingle in her soul. Perhaps she would share the joke with him when she tracked him down.

"Hm. And this has nothing to do with your embarrassment over making a heavenly vow?"

"Hm?" She asked. She was somewhat prepared for that question, and was sure she showed no sign of her true thoughts.

Liu Fakuang, on the other hand, winced, and rubbed his head.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, "I, uh, told my fiance about your vow. And that you were embarrassed by it. I wanted to tell you earlier, but you always seemed so busy…"

She glared at him, then turned back to Wu Lanhua.

"Fine. Yes, it is related," she said, "but I would rather avoid discussing it. It could be a contentious topic."

"I agree," Liu Fakuang said.

"Oh come now, how bad could this possibly be?" Wu Lanhua said, "Besides, is it not good to air grievances in the open?"

"I thought you didn't much care for cosmic questions," Qian Shanyi said, pouring herself a cup of tea now that she had finished her soup.

"I do not. But if you care - and you certainly seem to - then that makes it interesting."

"Lanhua, do you really want to know this?" Liu Fakuang winced. "I told you about how most other cultivators see karmists, didn't I?"

"My dear Fakuang, you won't deny me the chance to get to know Yishan better, will you?" She leaned forwards, cupping his cheek in her hand, "Talk in the abstract is not the same as seeing it with my own eyes."

Liu Fakuang sighed, and nodded slightly.

"I guess it's my punishment for not telling you about the vow earlier," Liu Fakuang sighed, "Well, get it out. It's not like you are the first cultivator with whom I talked about this."

"Fine." Qian Shanyi pursed her lips, putting her tea cup down with a clang of china on tablewood. If they wanted to give her permission to speak, then speak she would. It would be a good distraction from her worries. "If the heavens were involved in any way, the death toll would have been doubled. The only 'way' they ever show is towards graveyards."

"Yeah, like I expected," he said, crossing his arms. "But it's just not true. The heavenly will guides and comforts hundreds of thousands of people in their daily life. How can you even say that with a straight face?"

"You are in the high refinement stage. How long until you are at the peak? Already prepared to die in your tribulation?"

"I am not going to be facing a tribulation because I have no intention of transcending my realm in the first place," Liu Fakuang said, pursing his lips. "Refinement stage is as far as I will go."

Qian Shanyi's eyebrows flew up, surprise momentarily overpowering her sheer disdain for the karmist opposite her. Most refinement stage cultivators could not advance to the building foundation stage, due to lacking the funds, a good spiritual energy recirculation law, or simply not being blessed enough to have their dantians of sufficient size - but to not even want to transcend the boundaries of your flesh, this was something novel. In many ways, it felt even more bizarre than Wang Yonghao's decision to not cultivate at all.

"Why not?" she asked after a couple seconds of silence.

"Why would I? Because to cultivate is to seek immortality?" He shrugged. "That's not what the heavenly will teaches, and besides, what would I do with my life? None of my family are cultivators, and neither is Lanhua. As a refinement stage cultivator, I could easily live to a hundred and twenty years - a hundred and forty with alchemical treatments. None of the others can live that long, even in the best circumstances. What would I need more life for? To suffer alone?"

Wu Lanhua smiled, and put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into her.

"You are a spirit hunter," Qian Shanyi snorted, "do you truly expect to die in your bed?"

"Why not? Most of us retire just fine these days! This isn't the pre-reformation time anymore."

"Hm. I suppose I may have grown up on a few too many stories," she grumbled, "but that matters not. What you personally intend has nothing to do with thousands of cultivators being murdered by the Heavens every single year for daring to go beyond their 'mortal' station. What can possibly justify this, in your eyes?"

"Thousands only die because tens of thousands make the attempt."

"And that makes it okay?" She scoffed, "Besides, hundreds of thousands would have tried if not for the current risk - the threat alone is unjustifiable, not simply the deaths. This is ten percent of the best prepared cultivators in all the empire!"

"And nobody would die if those not truly prepared for the challenge would not attempt it!" Liu Fakuang threw his hands up. "Cultivation is a dangerous road, one that is not meant for everyone because not everyone can shoulder the burden. Those ten percent? If they simply trained more, or accepted that advancing in realm was not their destiny, they would still be alive. That's all a tribulation is - it's a check to make sure everyone is prepared to handle the responsibility of power."

"Right," she laughed, "which is why before Gu Lingtian's rebellion you would get a tribulation thrown in your face as soon as your spiritual root meridians became unblocked, unless you happened to be born to one of the few families who were allowed to survive. I am sure it was just a test of "responsibility", and not a cynical assassination of those who could not possibly fight back."

"It was! Those families knew how to handle it, and taught their children how to do so as well. Now the heavens were convinced to do things differently -"

"They didn't get convinced," she hissed, "they were forced, at swordpoint."

"Well, whatever you want to call it." He shrugged, not caring in the slightest. "The point is, there is a reason why the Heavens do this."

"Of course there is a reason. The reason is they do not want people to cultivate."

"If that were true, why wouldn't they send down the tribulation while you were ascending in realm? That is the most vulnerable moment! But no, first you ascend, and then the tribulation descends."

"It's more efficient to only kill those who actually succeed," she snorted, "it is well known the Heavens have limits on how much spiritual energy they can use. Or perhaps they have simply been limited by Gu Lingtian."

"That's just a guess," he scoffed, "It's no better than my guess for why they do things. You couldn't possibly know what limitations they are working under - only the Emperor is allowed to know the text of the Heavenly Mandate."

"There is no Heavenly Mandate," she hissed, rising up from her chair, "there is only the Heavenly peace treaty."

"Are those not synonyms?" Wu Lanhua asked curiously.

"A mandate would have been given willingly." She glared at her, though with no true conviction. The woman simply didn't know better. "Our peace treaty was forced upon them."

"Whatever you want to call it," Liu Fakuang continued, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "The point remains that even the empire has certain relations with the Heavens! They follow some rules, and well, I think they exercise heavenly will. To say that it leads to nothing but graveyards would be to say that that's all the empire does!"

"Will you say the same of the Lion kingdom?" She smiled with poison in her voice, and was glad to see him flinch.

"I've heard the name before, but I am afraid I am not too familiar," Wu Lanhua said, frowning slightly, "It's to the east from here, I believe?"

"It was a kingdom some two hundred years ago," Qian Shanyi said, her lecturing tone bringing back some of the calm to her soul, as she sat back down on her chair, "a vassal of the empire at the time. One day, an Asura appeared above their capital."

"An Asura?"

"One of the many vile creatures that come down from the heavens," she continued, "It hung there, hundreds of meters above the ground, responding to neither call nor sign. Then, three days later, it struck, and everything within three hundred kilometers - towns, people, livestock, plants down to the smallest blade of grass, even water flowing within the rivers - was turned to stone in an instant."

She lifted her cup of tea to her lips again, letting the statement hang in the air.

"We don't know why the heavens ordered this, nor how it was done," she continued, "no witnesses of the final day have survived to tell the tale. The only reason we know the Asura was there at all is because of half a dozen cultivators who were smart enough to flee well in advance, and lucky enough - or paranoid enough - to keep fleeing until they were well outside of the eventual circle of death. We don't even know how many people died, for how would anyone count them? To walk the entire kingdom and count the statues would take a hundred people working for a decade, and by now, many have been eroded into nothing by the rain and wind. All census books - if there even were any - were turned to stone, and you cannot read stone ink on stone paper. Our best estimate is three million souls."

She turned her fiery eyes towards Liu Fakuang.

"This is far from the only slaughter, merely the largest one in recent memory," she hissed, "Yet you still kiss the heavens on the hand? The blood of their victims drips off your lips. What can possibly justify this?"

Liu Fakuang had the decency to look away. Wu Lanhua steepled her hands, looking between them expectantly, like a cat that caught a particularly fat rat.

"They aren't saying what happened there," he finally said, "sometimes the heavens respond to requests, or talk through techniques, send messengers. They talk to the Emperor, of course. Never about this, though."

"Is that your excuse?" She scowled, "That they didn't even bother making up a reason?"

"Well it's important, isn't it?" He turned back to her. "We don't know what happened there! All the witnesses we had - they only knew things up to the last day. From the last day itself, we know nothing. We know an Asura appeared, and you assume it is what killed everyone, but you don't know, do you? It could have been trying to stop some demonic cultivators, and failed!"

"How many layers of excuses can you invent before your mind runs dry?"

"Well if it wanted to kill everyone, why did it wait for three days?"

"To give witnesses some time to flee." She scowled. Did she truly need to explain this out loud? "Just to enjoy the fear it caused. Because the technique required three days to come to fruition - there are plenty of simple explanations. But if it came to stop the killing, why do nothing for three days? Not even speak to those who asked it? There is no explanation for this."

"There are dozens of explanations! We don't even know for sure if the Heavens understand our speech - how can we say that Asura should have reacted to questions?"

"Of course they understand speech," she said, gesturing at the ceiling with her cup, "otherwise the Heavenly vows would not function."

"Perhaps, but what if they read your intentions from your mind instead?" He shrugged. "What if the heavens can understand speech, but the Asura in question was deaf?" He shook his head, "We simply do not know enough about the Heavens! How can you so confidently say that what they do is wrong?"

"So that's your true excuse then," she said, "that we do not know, and never will know. Whatever the Heavens do, no matter how many thousands die at their hands, we simply will never know. But whenever a cultivator dies, why, that is their fault - they were simply not prepared enough. This we do know."

"I don't -" he sighed, "I don't have an excuse. I am not a good karmist, the worst of my family. It was hard, you know, to learn about the Lion kingdom, and the other crises. But when a famine passes through the empire, what are the people supposed to do? Not everyone is lucky enough to be a cultivator and take control of their own destiny. Sometimes people just need to know that someone out there will hear their cry for help, and maybe, just maybe, offer a hand. Isn't that why you made your vow?"

"The shame of it burns my soul to ashes every morning," she said, "But I, at least, do not pretend that kissing the hand of murderers absolves me of responsibility."

"Well, I don't think you need to absolve yourself of responsibility," he said, "it's not like you killed anyone. Even if, as you say, the Heavens are really so bad… If they kill someone, it's their fault, right? Why should you be ashamed of asking for help?"

Instead of responding, she rose from her seat, and turned to Wu Lanhua.

"I hope you enjoyed this?"

"Very much," Wu Lanhua said, nodding with a satisfied smile on her face, "the affairs of cultivators are always couched in mystery, and I do enjoy shining some light on your worldview, Yishan."

"Good. At least someone got something out of this," she sighed, and headed towards the doors, "I will be retiring for the night, with your permission."

She stopped in the doorframe, and threw a glance back at Liu Fakuang.

"I am thankful to you for keeping my vow out of the books," she said, "yet I can't help but wonder whether you should have, and what other transgressions have you kept out of them?"

Author Note: If you'd like to read five chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.​
Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 35: Snare The Fools With Tainted Greed
Qian Shanyi scanned the discard piles of the three other players, refreshing her mental count of the tiles still left in the game. The noise and smell of the mahjong parlor around her vanished as her focus sharpened to a needle point. In front of her stood fourteen tiles, ready to be discarded. It was the last round of the game, with one of her swords at stake; with the points she had, she would just barely win it back, but if she lost this round, it would vanish together with her opponents. Even a single wrong move here could spell disaster.

In the blink of an eye, she made her decision, picked up one of her tiles, and discarded it.

"Ron!" The cultivator opposite her laughed, flipping open his hand. "Oh, miss Xiao, so close and yet so far! I win this round too!"

"Oh no!" Qian Shanyi covered her mouth in shock, "How could this be? I was so close…"

Moron, can't you even tell when someone is losing deliberately? She sneered in her heart. Exactly as planned.

"Is this really it?" She whined while they counted up the points and distributed the spirit stones. "My luck is really rotten today… Can't you even give me a chance for a rematch?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," he laughed, handing her a pouch of spirit stones, "We played two games! It's skill, not luck, miss Xiao."

"That's so not fair." She scowled at him. "You are just afraid I'd win it back! Play another game, coward!"

"Sorry, I really don't have the time," he said, picking up her sword and quickly heading for the doors.

She sighed, counted out her winnings, and headed out of the parlor, feigning despair.

She couldn't wait three whole months to sell her sword: even if she could trust the seller to send her the money by post, she needed it now. But of course no rational person would purchase an unlicensed sword directly from someone they did not know without doing any checks: the chances of it being stolen were simply too great to justify the risk.

In other words, she needed an irrational person.

This brought her to gambling. If she staked the sword on a game and lost it by just a hair's breadth, she would still get most of the cost back, and she would get it right away.

Selling an unlicensed sword in a hurry was suspicious; Gambling with the one you just found in some ruins was more than solid enough to pass muster of the sorts of men who went betting. It took her some time to find a high stakes gambling parlor once they stopped in a large city three days into their journey, but the game was simplicity itself.

Of course, there was a downside: since she had to agree on what the sword was worth with her fellow gamblers, she only walked out with around a hundred spirit stones, as opposed to two hundred she could have gotten from Cheng Dao back in Xiaohongshan. It was still more money than she had ever held in her hands in her entire life.

Unfortunately, the risk of doing this a second time was simply too great. Finding one high-quality sword was plausible; finding two, in entirely different styles, started to strain belief. If her fellow gamblers felt something was off, they would drag her to the spirit hunters, and she would have all the same problem on her hands.

Humming a tune and with a small fortune in her pocket, she headed out to the market. It was time for a little shopping spree.

Qian Shanyi hefted two different bottles of pills that could fortify her skin against burns, shaking them slightly to gauge their weight. One of them felt a bit heavier, but she also thought the glass it was made of was slightly thicker…

"May I also recommend these excellent Ivory Dragon Pills?" the shopping assistant droned in her ear, still trying to upsell her despite her valiant attempts to ignore him. "A young cultivator like you could benefit greatly from having your bones strengthened. A single broken leg could stop you from cultivating for weeks on end!"

She glanced at the bottle in his hands. It was some supplement made by a local alchemist, marketed towards loose cultivators, presumably because they wouldn't know any better. The road of cultivation was paved in money, and if you wanted to, you could drain any fortune in a single breath. Even if the shady supplement worked as described, there were much higher priorities when purchasing cultivation aids - first, formations for gathering spiritual energy, then general healing pills, then pills that would handle specialized injuries, then items tailored towards your particular cultivation method, or towards some specific purpose. Priority for purchasing supplements that could, at best, offer a very marginal advantage, was, roughly speaking, "never".

"You'd be surprised. But my bones are fine," she said, turning fully towards him, "I assume you have a scale? I would like to weigh the pills inside of these two bottles."

"The weights are written on the bottles, honorable customer." The shopping assistant bowed, put aback by her change of topic.

"I have eyes that can see, I assure you." She snorted, shaking her bottle for emphasis. "I don't trust the labels. These pills are made by a local alchemist, not by a large sect with a reputation at stake - how am I supposed to know if they have followed the recipe correctly, or if you balanced the pills between the bottles well? Plenty of unscrupulous sneaks try to pawn off subpar products."

"Honorable customer, are you claiming our shop lies about what we sell?" The shopping assistant grimaced as if she forced him to eat an entire crate of lemons.

"If you claim you could never make a mistake, then I suppose I am!" She laughed. "Junior, you are a thousand years too young to try to trick me. Get the scale out, I have a right to weigh the products I am purchasing. Or shall we involve the empire? They would be happy to take your money for violating the mercantile codex."

"These pills are sealed, and would not last as long if we open the bottles," he said, his grimace only worsening at the mention of the empire.

"That is your problem, not mine," she shook her head. Honestly, some people. She could have sold it much better, were she in his place.

A couple hours later - and sixty spirit stones lighter - she headed back to the ship, loaded up with medicines, talismans, and a dozen long knives she purchased from the market.

When she came back to the yacht, she found Wu Lanhua speaking to an unfamiliar cultivator, dressed in all white, with short hair and a muscular build. He had a long black box strapped to his back, with steel strips around the edges, and seemed to be around thirty years old. From the spiritual energy around his body, she could tell he was around the high edge of the middle of the refinement stage - about the same as her, all things considered.

The man was gesticulating wildly, while Wu Lanhua seemed bemused, one of her hands on his shoulder as she tried to get him to calm down.

When Qian Shanyi walked onto the deck, Wu Lanhua noticed her, and waved her over.

"Yishan! How timely for you to return - we were just talking about you," Wu Lanhua said, gesturing to the man in front of her. "This is honorable immortal Wang Niu, my previous immortal chef."

Wang Niu gave her a cold stare, and she raised an eyebrow at him, but bowed in greeting.

"A pleasure," she said, "I am always open to exchanging pointers with a fellow chef."

"You call yourself a chef?" He sneered. "Wu Lanhua told me that you still need help from mortals. How long have you been practicing the great Dao of cooking?"

"Three months, if you mean my own personal journey, away from my teacher," she lied easily, "of what relevance is it?"

"Three months?" He bulged his eyes, before turning back to Wu Lanhua. "This is ridiculous. This woman is barely an apprentice, let alone a chef."

"I see you haven't even learned how to insult others properly, in all your years of practice." She shook her head. "Why is this man here, asking questions about me, Lanhua?"

Wang Niu seemed ready to make a retort, but Wu Lanhua put a hand on his shoulder, and he stepped back.

"Well, Yishan, he has put me in a delicate situation." She shook her head. "He was away on sect business for several months, but now he is back, and wants to take over the cooking for me. Unfortunately, I already signed a contract with you that you will be my only immortal chef for as long as you stay on my yacht."

"So?" She raised an eyebrow, "If he was so incompetent he couldn't even manage to hold onto his position, I don't see why I should step aside to give him face."

Wang Niu's lips twitched, but he stayed silent.

"The trouble is that I have already had a contract with him," Wu Lanhua sighed, "I believed that we broke it before he left, but it appears I was mistaken."

"How uncharacteristically forgetful of you," Qian Shanyi said, rolling her eyes, "But I still don't see the problem. He can travel to Xiaohongshan and be your chef there as much as he wants. Our contract only concerns the ship."

"I don't suppose that would suffice, honorable immortal Wang?" Wu Lanhua turned to him, "You have received my message about my wedding, I hope? I would very much love to taste your cooking when we celebrate. I would be even glad to pay your rates until I return."

"This is unacceptable." Wang Niu shook his head. "This woman defiles the knives she holds by calling herself a chef. That she works in my place is an insult in itself - the only outcome I would accept is a chef's duel, with her title at stake."

"A chef duel?" Qian Shanyi laughed. "For what purpose? I refuse."

"Of course," he grinned, "An amateur, and a coward. What else could I expect?"

"Is it not cowardice to spit in the face of your patron by leaving your station, and then run back with your tail between your legs as soon as you hear they found a better replacement?" She shook her head. "I do not doubt your cooking is better, so is this how you use your title? Bullying juniors like me? Much like building foundation cultivators do not cross swords with refinement stage ones - for the outcome is never in doubt - there would be no purpose in this. Perhaps I should write a letter to your sect, to find out what they think of you soiling their reputation like this."

Once again, he reared up to respond, but was stopped by Wu Lanhua's hand.

"Would you mind if I speak with Lan Yishan alone, honorable immortal Wang?" Wu Lanhua asked. "Just for a couple minutes."

A short jerk of his head was all the response they needed, and soon enough they were alone in the yacht's kitchen. The bright midday sun has heated the walls, and the air inside felt hot and stuffy, until Wu Lanhua pressed her hand against a glass case housing a talisman on one of the walls, and cold air spread throughout the room.

"I think you should go through with the duel, Yishan," Wu Lanhua said, settling down on one of the chairs.

"Because you orchestrated it?" she asked sardonically.

"In part, and I am afraid I must apologize." Wu Lanhua shook her head sadly. "I thought seeing the two of you meet would be amusing, but I did not expect Wang Niu to react quite so explosively."

"Is that why you 'forgot' about your contract?"

"Of course I didn't forget," Wu Lanhua scrunched her nose at her, "but I couldn't very much tell him that, could I? I didn't expect him to remember, in truth, let alone make it an issue. But now that he has, we hardly have a choice. Either you go through this duel, or he would drag us both into an imperial court to resolve this contract nonsense, which could take weeks."

"Which you already knew would happen when we set off," Qian Shanyi said, pursing her lips, "I am beginning to think this is simply another ploy to delay my travels."

She really did like the woman - verbal sparring they did together had been the highlight of her day, as Wu Lanhua tried to find out more about her goals and Qian Shanyi deflected her inquiries. But this sort of push was something she expected from her too, and was one of the reasons she was hesitant to ask her for help in the first place. It was difficult to convey the urgency the heavenly vow pushed down on her, after all.

"What was I supposed to do, tell you that you can't work for me on the off chance that a fool who had not shown his face in months and who never cared about his contract - so much so that I doubted he even read it - would make it an issue?" Wu Lanhua said, annoyance clear in her tone. "I expected professional jealousy to motivate him to come back, that much is true - I need an immortal chef for my wedding, and if you won't be there, then it has to be him. If not that, I hoped I could have another angle to convince you to stay. But no, I did not seek to sabotage you directly."

She seemed legitimately annoyed, at least, so perhaps she was speaking the truth - Qian Shanyi could certainly empathize with a scheme falling down on your own head.

"Besides, what would be so bad if you accepted the duel?" Wu Lanhua continued, "It's not like he said you have to get off my boat. Win or lose, I will get you to your destination - even though you still have not told me exactly where it is. All you would lose is some meaningless title and a bit of honor. These aren't the old days of barbaric honor killings, nobody will allow him to cripple you on the spot, so what use is it to you?"

"I suppose this is only clear if you are a cultivator," Qian Shanyi sighed, "Lanhua, he said the duel would be over my title of immortal chef - if I lose, I could never practice cooking in public. If I did anyways, then no cultivator who has heard of the duel would deal with me ever again - and these news spread quickly. The empire has killed the honor-bound relations between the ordinary people, but among us cultivators, they are still very much alive."

"Is that also why you are pursuing this bizarre chase?"

"My accomplice wouldn't talk, and I am not so blind as to actually care about the principle," she said, shaking her head, "but if it makes it easier for you, you can think of it that way. In this case, the difference between my own rules and that of others is hardly worth noting."

They sat in silence for a while, thinking.

"Could you elect to be the judge, and then simply rule the duel in my favor?" she asked, "There is no heavenly law that prevents the judges from ruling dishonestly."

"If this would be an official duel, then I do not think I could," Wu Lanhua pursed her lips, "I am known for being fair and impartial in all my dealings, no matter the circumstances, or at least as far as that befits a merchant. If the news got out of my blatant favoritism, it would cost me greatly. If he agrees to me being a judge in the first place, and the duel is close, then perhaps I could swing it slightly in your favor - but no more than that."

"Yet you expect me to sacrifice my own honor?"

"Reputation is not honor, but it does seem hypocritical of me, when you put it that way," Wu Lanhua said, "I suppose I could compensate you for it, should you lose?"

"There are very few things that would be of comparable value to me being able to cultivate freely." Qian Shanyi shook her head, pacing around the kitchen.

If she rejected the duel, she would be either stuck here for weeks or forced to abandon her current identity, hard as it was to acquire. If she accepted it, and lost, she would at best be forced to cripple her most marketable skill and a core pillar of Three Obediences Four Virtues, and at worst be treated like an honourless wretch - more so than she already was. Compensation from Wu Lanhua would be of little value, as she would have to stay here to get it - which would mean abandoning her quest for Wang Yonghao, and then dying to a heavenly tribulation. If she won…

Could she win?

"What can you tell me about him?" She turned to Wu Lanhua. "You spoke of his cooking, but what is his sect like? How long had he been a chef?"

"He comes from the Infinite Garden Pavilion." Wu Lanhua answered immediately. "One of my many suppliers. They position themselves as producers of gourmet ingredients - plant and beast alike - though best as I can tell, these days about half of their income actually comes from sanitation work. Cooking has never been their main or even secondary focus, but they have produced several excellent chefs. Wang Niu's master is the sect's main cook, and the man himself has been training as a chef for more than a decade, out of which he spent a good five years in my employ, on and off."

"Has he ever worked in a restaurant?" She asked, an idea beginning to form in her mind, "Serving customers?"

"Not as far as I know," Wu Lanhua said, raising an eyebrow. "Only other people like me. Why, is that important?"

She frowned, thinking things through, looking around the excellently stocked kitchen. To win against a chef with a decade of experience on her… There was a path forwards here, though a fragile one. She smiled.

"Did you hear something you liked?" Wu Lanhua asked her, leaning back in her seat.

Hmm…

"Alright, fine," Qian Shanyi said, feeling excited at her new scheme, "But I am going to need him to agree to some concessions."

When they returned to the deck, Wang Niu was still there, still as incensed as when they left, talking to Liu Fakuang who had returned while they were away.

"Well?" He asked, nodding at her. "Did you recover a bit of sanity and courage? Or will you simply bow your head here and now?"

"Something like that." Qian Shanyi smiled. "But if this duel is to happen, there will need to be some restrictions."

He stared at her coldly.

"First of all," she said, raising one finger, "let us not waste any time by involving the city. We will cook here on the yacht, today, in the evening. I will leave the selection of the judges to Wu Lanhua - I trust you would agree with that?"

"I have a friend in the city who would love to come." Wu Lanhua smiled. "Me, my dear Fakuang, and my friend - I hope that would suffice?"

She and Wang Niu nodded together.

"Second," Qian Shanyi continued, raising a second finger, "choosing what dish to cook, and thus what ingredients to purchase, is as much a skill of the chef as the preparation itself. To make sure we do not change our minds during the duel itself, we will both write down the name of the dish we intend to prepare, sealed inside of an envelope, and give them to Wu Lanhua for safekeeping. Of course, if we can't prepare that dish we will concede defeat."

"I can tell you what I will cook right now, if you think this will help you," he snorted, "I do not need cheap tricks to destroy you."

"That isn't necessary." She shook her head. "Please use the envelope."

"Fine," he said, "what else?"

"Third is merely a continuation of that principle - once we enter the kitchen to cook, with all our ingredients, none of us leave until we are done. It would also help guard against cheating."

"Sure," he shrugged.

"Fourth is a way to equalize our experiences," she said, "A chef must be economical as well, or else they will ruin their patron - whatever meal you cook, any ingredients you purchase must amount to no more than a single silver yuan. I, on the other hand, will have a budget of three yuan, to compensate for my lesser skill."

That finally gave him some pause.

"I will supply the wine," Wu Lanhua volunteered, and Wang Niu nodded again.

"Fifth is a question of the stakes." She smiled again. "If I am to stake my title, you have to stake something as well, no? I want that box on your back, as well as whatever is in it right now. It must be valuable, for you to be carrying it all the time."

"Absolutely not," he sneered, "you reach far beyond your station, girl."

"Of course," she grinned, "a pompous fool and a coward, all empty talk. What else could I expect? You want a duel without stakes? If you can't take the heat, then stay out of my kitchen."

He scowled in response to that.

"I will make you pay for those words," he ceded through clenched teeth, "This is an invaluable set of tools, given to me by my teacher, and you want it to equal your worthless title?"

"Fine, I will match it with two hundred spirit stones and my sword," she waved her hand easily, "I do not have that much on me, so if I lose, I will work for you until I will pay it off."

Malice creeped into his scowl, until it slowly warped into a smile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Liu Fakuang look at her in surprise.

"Work for me? Fine, then I accept these stakes!" He said quietly, no doubt thinking of some horrible thing he could do to her in response. It was, in the end, all as she expected.

Dance to my tune, foolish puppet, she cheered in her heart. It was time to bring this negotiation to a close.

"Finally, there is a question of cheating," she said, "I do not want us to constantly debate whether either one of us has violated the rules in some way, or done something objectionable, or we'd be here all night. Neither do I want to debate what counts as cheating beforehand. Three accusations: whoever wants to accuse the other of cheating will have to make the accusation and prove it to the satisfaction of our judges, and if they fail to do so three times, then they will concede the duel and pay out triple their stake. If they manage it, of course, then they win the duel, and their opponent pays out triple."

"Is that your angle?" He asked. "Cheating? Of course, you have no skill to rely on."

"If you believe I cheated, you just have to prove it," she shrugged, "No, I simply do not want you to argue all night once victory will be mine."

"Ridiculous," he scowled, "but fine, I accept these terms. I will see you in the evening."

She bowed to him respectfully, though he did not return the gesture.

"Let the better chef win," she lied with a smile.

But there was no chance of that, for he had already lost.

Author Note: If you'd like to read five chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.
Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 36: Stomp These Upstarts Into Mud
Once Wang Niu had left, she had pulled Liu Fakuang aside to ask for his help with a little experiment. Together, they found the ship's carpenter, and she asked him to make her a square out of thick wooden planks, solid and at least a meter to the side.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for your duel?" he asked while they waited, quick strikes of the hammer filling the air of the cramped ship's workshop, "I can tell you have some kind of plan, but Wang Niu is very good. You shouldn't underestimate him."

"I have the time in mind," she replied, "I don't expect to need all of it, and this has been burning a hole through my mind since this morning. Best get it out of the way first, so it wouldn't distract me - it would only take a couple minutes."

"You know, I didn't expect you to ask a karmist like me for cultivation help." He chuckled softly, rubbing his head.

"You may be a karmist, but you are still a cultivator. I trust in your better nature," she said, turning to face him, "You said you could tell I had a plan? What did you mean by that?"

"Just, you came back looking very confident, and then you had all those terms already prepared," he said, shrugging. "Lanhua gets like that sometimes too. It reminded me of her."

She hummed, but before she could respond, the carpenter came back with her shield.

"Well, you said you didn't need it pretty, so here it is." The carpenter shrugged, dragging it along the ground, nailed together from two rows of overlapping planks in accordance with her direction. She easily lifted it off the floor, thanked the man, and they headed to the back of the ship on the top deck, facing away from the rest of the port. She leaned the large square of wood against a railing, crouched behind it, and took one of her newly purchased long knives from her bag.

"So what is this supposed to be?" Liu Fakuang asked, coming closer.

"A shield, so that a shard of exploding metal doesn't take my head off," she said, pushing the knife's edge through a tight, narrow gap she asked the carpenter to leave in between the planks. "And you are here just in case it does anyways, to administer help. Healing pills are in my bag."

Really, it was paranoid of her - the wooden shield alone should have been more than enough.

"And why might shards of metal start flying around?" he asked her cautiously, and she felt his spiritual shield suddenly strengthen. Smart man.

"I have been redesigning a flying sword technique in my free time," she said, wrapping the hilt in cloth, to cover any remaining gaps, "I think I got it right, but you can never know for sure before you test it."

"You have been redesigning a technique?" His eyebrows flew up as he admonished her. "Alone? You should be doing that in a forest, away from anyone else, not here. What if you blow up the ship?"

"If I did it in a forest and screwed it up, nobody would get me to a healer in time and I would die," she said, glancing up at him, "Don't worry, my master left me some notes for this - this is more of an exercise than truly novel work. I am not just doing this blind. Besides, blow up the ship? I only have enough spiritual energy for, like, half of it at best."

She grinned up at him, and before he could stop her, touched the hilt of the knife with a finger and poured spiritual energy into it, guiding it in accordance with her calculations and the diagram from the Three Obediences Four Virtues. A knife, no matter how long, wasn't quite a sword, but she wasn't going to risk destroying one of her precious weapons on a mere test, and the shape was close enough for her purposes.

She only wished she could have done this without touching the weapon at all, but she needed all the control she could get, and so there was no way around it.

Even simplified as it was, the "humble needle control technique" still took all of her concentration and a good chunk of her reserves. Slowly, she let more and more spiritual energy pour into the knife, guiding it into the loops and twirls required by the diagram, gradually accelerating to reach that alluring point of stability.

For a while, she thought it would hold, but as she came close to the finish line she felt the spiritual energy in the knife's tip bunch up, vibrate, and despite her frantic efforts to get it to hold, the entire technique instantly unraveled with an ear-ringing explosion, kicking the wooden shield - and her behind it - back two full feet.

She stood up, checking herself over, and pulled the knife out through the shield - or tried to, because the handle was all that was left. The other side of the board was littered with steel shrapnel from the shattered blade, and she tossed the handle overboard, clicking her tongue in disappointment. At least she knew which part of the technique caused problems, and that would save her many hours of work.

"See? The ship is still here," she said, turning back to Liu Fakuang, "Don't worry, I think we'll get to do this a couple more times in the next few days before I get it right."

Somehow he didn't seem entirely mollified.

When Wang Niu returned to the ship in the evening, carrying his cold box of ingredients, he was ushered to the kitchen he knew quite well. With not much free space left on a ship, it was small, with the dining table on one end of the room, and the cooking area on the other. The two halves were separated from each other by a wide table for preparing the ingredients, cupboards taking up most of the wall behind it, and with a large stove in the middle of the wall, fit to cook for a dozen sailors at once.

Despite the small size, this kitchen was stocked with some of the best equipment money could buy - after all, he ordered much of it himself. The stove was a marvel, driven by spirit stones and producing the exact amount of heat required by the chef by widening or narrowing apertures within it with special knobs: even his sect only had a couple of those. Besides that, there were copper pipes for water, filled with a water treasure near the roof, and a sink for cleaning the dishes after the fact.

As he swept his gaze over the room, he found that all the surfaces were cleaned to a shine, with all equipment stoved away where it belonged, and grunted in approval.

Lan Yishan was already there, ingredients covering half of the central table as she kept unpacking her own cold box - significantly larger than his, covered in droplets of water and smog, where moisture in the air had condensed from the cold. Wu Lanhua, Liu Fakuang, and a man he recognised as Li Shangwen, a big local merchant, were already seated at the dining table, drinking wine and talking of some mercantile mortal nonsense.

"Ah, honorable cultivator Wang!" Lan Yishan smiled at him carelessly, as if he wasn't about to teach her where her place was like a misbehaving dog is taught not to piss in the house. "We've decided that we would split the kitchen half and half - I would take the right side, and you the left. The stove, of course, would be shared."

She gestured to the other half of the central table.

"It's acceptable," he replied, keeping his emotions contained. Who was she, to make these decisions, to give him orders? A chef's kitchen was no place for a woman. It was a battlefield, and a chef duel was the hottest part of that battle, knives and pots clashing together like swords and shields. Only one with an iron will, sharpened by years of experience, could direct the flow of ingredients and order the mortal assistants with the precision of a general.

He would correct this rebellion at once.

Although, it seemed like he wouldn't even need to cook to do so.

He left his cold box on his side of the counter, and strode over to Wu Lanhua, offering her the sealed envelope.

"My dish name, as we have agreed," he said, "when will the duel start?"

"There is no true start time," Wu Lanhua said. "You can begin cooking whenever you want to - after all, it's quite unlikely that you will both finish at the exact same time, so there is no point in synchronizing when you begin. When you are finished, simply present your dish, and we will make our judgment once both of you have done so."

"I see," he said, "there is no need to wait, in that case. Cultivator Lan had already violated the conditions, so I have won by default."

Surprised eyes turned in his direction at that pronouncement. Lan Yishan stopped unpacking her coldbox, and leaned on it, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Is that so?" she asked with a slight smile. "That is your first accusation of cheating then. How have I violated the rules?"

In her eyes, he saw a twinkle of something he couldn't identify. It hardly mattered, for the truth was obvious.

"Your ingredients." He gestured to her table, openly displaying three large fishes, plenty of mushrooms and vegetables, several lemons, sugar, eggs, bread, spices and several jars of what was no doubt pickled goods. "I know the local prices well. Even if you bought them from the cheapest trader in town, that must have cost at least double of what you had to spend."

"Oh, an easy mistake to make, but I am afraid it isn't quite that simple, honorable cultivator Wang," she said, shaking her head, "all my ingredients fit precisely in my budget. I even have a written list of prices, and the merchants I approached, where appropriate. Chen Minlang - our other cook, though not a cultivator, I am not sure if you have met - would testify to the accuracy, because we did our purchases together."

What a transparent lie.

"The fish," he said, pursing his lips. "It's large and in good health, clearly freshly caught. How much did it cost?"

"Nothing," she responded, her smile growing wider, "I caught them myself."

"What?"

"I went out and caught them." She shrugged. "Foraging for ingredients wasn't against anything in our agreement. Most of these vegetables - garlic and carrots especially, as well as the mushrooms - I have gathered from a nearby forest. Once again, honorable Chen would confirm this, because I have brought him along, despite his initial protests."

He sneered at her, turning to Wu Lanhua with a questioning look.

"It all seems to be in order." She shrugged, and the other two so-called 'judges' confirmed it. "Neither of you mentioned foraging before, and it obviously costs nothing."

Fine. I suppose I will just have to destroy her with my cooking.

Not like it mattered. He could accuse her three times in all - this was practically free.

He walked back to his station, such as it was, and pulled his invaluable knife case off his back, lowering it gently on the table. Before starting on his ingredients, he put on a pristine apron and the chef hat, securing it on his head with a tight knot.

Alongside him, Lan Yishan, still dressed in the same cultivator robes, started to peel the carrots by tossing them into the air and removing layers of skin before they had the time to fall back down on the table. Her long black hair was tied together into a loose braid, and clamped at the bottom with a wooden pin, but still left to swing freely behind her back. Wu Lanhua and Li Shangwen were watching her theatrics with fascination.

"Are you not even intending to dress like a chef?" he asked, irritated at her quick, distracting movements in the corner of his eye.

"Why?" She looked at him, baffled, and caught the carrot with her free hand. "I cook with my knife, not with my dress."

"It is traditional for chefs to dress this way," he said, motioning to his clothes, "The hat is there, so that your hair doesn't fall into your dishes, and the apron, so that oil doesn't splash on your clothes. But I suppose an amateur like you wouldn't know this."

"Oh come now, no measly drop of oil is going to pierce through a properly constructed spiritual shield -" she laughed at him, the sheer arrogance of it, "- and as for my hair, I haven't lost a single one in years. Even when sparring, it's quite rare for it to get damaged. Perhaps old cultivators like you may need the hat, like an ordinary person, but I think I will go without."

He grit his teeth. She would pay for that.

He breathed in to calm himself down. Dao of Cooking required your full concentration - anything less would be an insult.

He took out the six forms of meat of the mighty ox from his cold box - oxtail, cheek, tongue, skirt, stomach and filet - all wrapped in wax paper, and kept cool by the talisman in the middle of the box - and laid it out carefully on the table. The budget, small as it was, was more than enough for three people, and he purchased a fair bit more than what he strictly needed.

With gentle hands, he opened up the knife chest, took out the first knife, and began working, putting the arrogant woman out of his mind. His usual calm quickly returned, until he heard a question from Wu Lanhua.

"It's curious to me that you are using multiple knives, while Lan Yishan is only using one, honorable immortal Wang," she said. "Is there a reason for this?"

He glanced over to Lan Yishan and, to his growing horror, saw that she indeed continued using the same knife with which she peeled the vegetables to descale and debone her fish. At least she stopped tossing things in the air like a circus clown.

"Different blade shapes are best suited towards different purposes," he said, faintly, "cutting, chopping, even sawing bread - there is a knife perfectly suited for everything. My knives are made from heavenly materials - they make it easier to permeate the ingredients with spiritual energy, varying its concentration along the cut. The dish thus produced has, naturally, an incomparable taste. Just like the grandest temple on top of the tallest mountain scratches the sky, so do these dishes scratch your palate. To use a single knife, is…"

"Well, that might be true," Lan Yishan laughed, "but it's not how I was taught. For the highest freshness, it's best to slaughter your food right before cooking it - and how could you have the time to switch to a different knife when you are butchering a demon beast? It's going to bite your head off if you try! A knife and a sword, that's all the tools an immortal chef should need - and I don't need my sword for some fish."

"A chef is not a butcher." He sneered. "Where did you learn, a forest?"

"A chef is not a forager either," she said, shaking her head, "yet who else would know what ingredients to collect for the best taste?"

"Best ingredients are grown in carefully cultivated gardens," he said. "This isn't the ancient times, when you could simply walk into a forest and find a thousand year old herb or a rare demon beast. If you want the best, you need a sect like our very own Infinite Garden Pavilion."

That seemed to only make her laugh more, and he focused back on his preparations.

He kept one eye on what she did, this time, and his confusion and irritation only deepened. What in the name of the netherworld kings was she cooking? She cut one of the large fishes open on an oven tray, chopped another one into filets, started to make a soup from the remaining cuts, and then chopped up the wild garlic and onions into a fine mixture, which she fried separately? It was as if she was preparing a three course meal - which would have made sense given the sheer quantity of the ingredients she brought along - but they were only making a single dish. There was no plan to it, nothing that would come together into a coherent picture.

Finally, he couldn't take it, and stepped over to her.

"What is it you are making, cultivator Lan?" he whispered, "I do not believe that 'a complete mess' is a viable dish."

"Who said that I have a plan?" She raised an eyebrow at him, whispering back with a smile. "I would win if you can't make your own dish, wouldn't I? With how incompetent you are, and how much time you are wasting on questions, it seems to me that is a real possibility."

She laughed at him and turned away, and he clenched his teeth harder. Calm. She was an incompetent, getting a rise out of him was her only path forward. His superior skill -

No. Destroying her on the merits would not be enough. She has to be humiliated.

He glanced at the trio of judges: Wu Lanhua was telling some story to the other two. None of them were looking in their direction.

'Judges', he sneered silently, pathetic. As if these peons could appreciate true cooking.

Their inattentiveness gave him all the opportunity he needed.

He reached into his bag of salt with one hand, and placed a tray of ox cheeks he was marinating to the side of his work area with the other, right next to where Lan Yishan was finishing up seasoning her fish, giving him an excuse to come close to her. When she turned away to grab another ingredient, he tossed a full handful of salt over her fish.

Try and serve this, he grinned, an amateur like you wouldn't even notice -

With the salt still in flight, she swung her knife blindly behind her without even slowing her step, and with a smooth movement, deflected most of the salt over into his own meat. His eyes widened in horror, and he reached his hand to pull the tray back, but by the time his fingers closed around the edge, the salt already fell down, grains instantly dissolving on the surface of the meat and in the marinade around it.

"You cheater!" He hissed, and saw the three judges look in their direction out of the corner of his eye.

"Hm?" She turned to face him, her eyes half closed as if she was barely staying awake, feigning innocence.

"Look!" He pointed to his meat triumphantly. He could still salvage this. "There is salt all over my meat. It is far, far more than what the dish requires. This is clear sabotage!"

"Oh. Yes, that does look a little strange." She scratched her head with the handle of her kitchen knife, then shrugged. "But I didn't do that."

"Are you claiming I oversalted my own meat?" He sneered at her. "An accusation like that would make me cross swords with anybody."

"I am not claiming anything." She shrugged again. "But by the rules of this duel, cheating only matters if you can prove it. Otherwise, it's just empty talk."

"That is what we agreed on, honorable immortal Wang," Wu Lanhua said. "You have to prove it yourself, to the three of us."

"There is plenty of proof." He smiled. Her own words would seal her demise. "Look at the spread of the salt on the table around the trays."

He gestured to the table. Some of the salt grains have missed the two trays, and scattered all over, with a wide tail in his direction from that powerful knife swing.

"This spread clearly indicates the salt came from her side of the room," he declared, "and therefore, she had cheated."

"Hmm," Lan Yishan scratched her head again, "that is certainly puzzling. However, may I ask where this salt could have come from?"

"What? From your own hands, obviously."

"Well, it's just that right before this duel, I asked Liu Fakuang here to search me and all my ingredients, and together with Chen Minlang, we recorded the weights of every ingredient I was intending to use - just so there would be no misunderstandings later, you understand. Neither of us has left the room since," she said, pointing to Liu Fakuang with her knife, "isn't that right, fellow cultivator Liu?"

"That's right," Liu Fakuang nodded.

"While they were busy with that," Wu Lanhua added, "My people have searched the kitchen to make sure it was clean, with no surprise stashes anywhere."

"If you doubt my word, we can weigh the salt I have left," Lan Yishan shrugged, "I have barely used any in my cooking so far. This means that unless you can show where I got this salt, this isn't proof, but merely… baseless conjecture."

"Of course I can prove it," he snorted, heat coming up into his chest, "you stole my salt to do it."

"But your salt is on the other end of the table," she pointed out, "I would have had to somehow stretch all across the table without either you or our excellent judges noticing? This isn't plausible at all."

"So what, are you accusing me then?" He raised his nose at her. If this worthless amateur was going to try to win this duel on a pure technicality

"Hmmm," she said, smiling at him, and shook her head. "No, I do not think I will accuse you. How could I prove it's you for sure? We have forgotten to weigh your salt, after all. It's entirely possible that, for example, you tossed the salt at my dish intending to sabotage it, and I have masterfully deflected it aside, but since the only ones who would know wherever that happened are the two of us, there is no way to prove it one way or another. Your hands are dry, and no salt has stuck to them - I can see that from here. Perhaps it was you - or perhaps I did manage to sneak in more salt. We will simply never know."

She pointed the knife at him, that strange twinkle coming back to her eyes. The judges watched their confrontation with interest.

"The only thing we do know for sure is that you have accused me of cheating twice, and failed to prove it both times," she chuckled softly, "careful, honorable cultivator Wang. One more failure, and you will have to pay out your stake. In triplicate. You best be very certain you can prove it the next time you think I have tried to cheat."

He scowled at her, slapping her knife aside, and she laughed easily, as if they were just sharing a great joke with each other.

Was this her angle? Cheat, but in a way he couldn't prove?

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. No, this was simply playing to her tune. He was a better chef. He didn't need to worry about what her plan was, when he already had the perfect dish in mind, one she could never compete with.

He opened his eyes again.

This was a battlefield, and he was a better general. He simply needed to slash his way to victory, and leave the incompetent in the dust.

No tricks, no cheating. Only victory.

He thought chef duels were a battlefield. He won plenty of them, and knew exactly what to look out for. His skill at cooking would, surely, deliver him to victory.

He was so, so wrong.

Lan Yishan didn't fight like a soldier, but like an animal, a rabid dog uncaring for thought or logic. She barreled him down into the mud, and turned an honorable and clean competition of culinary wills into a mad grapple, their weapons long discarded, trying to drown him in the wet, sloppy ground.

He had never seen anyone cheat so blatantly while managing to not get caught.

Whatever it was she was making, the stove was clearly a cornerstone, every single burner he wasn't already using burning hot, and so she shuttled between it and her table, always choosing the worst time to move. Every time, he had to drop what he was doing, and watch her like a hawk, lest she change something, or slip in a ruinous spice and destroy a part of his dish.

The one time he didn't, he found the heat inside of the oven doubled, and by the time he realized it, an entire batch of ox cheeks was left burned to a crisp. That her own fish had suffered alongside didn't seem to bother her at all. She didn't even take it out of the oven.

Twice, he watched her hands, never letting his gaze wander, and yet afterwards found the burners on the other end of the stove - ones her hands didn't even get close to - had changed their settings. There had to have been a technique at work, but whatever it was, it was subtle, covered up by the flow of spiritual energy into the dishes and all around the stove itself - she was not influencing his mind, and she was not concealing the stove in an illusion. Thankfully, he could simply change the burners back, and as long as she stayed away from the stove, it seemed to stay put.

And always, a quiet voice in the back of his head. Her voice. Droning on, driving him to insanity.

Could you prove it? Could you prove it, Wang Niu? Otherwise… it's just baseless conjecture.

He only realized her trap once he had already stepped into it. By the rules of their duel, he had to accuse her of cheating first - even if one of the judges saw or suspected something, they would simply stay quiet. But if he accused her of cheating and they saw nothing, then he would lose, because he only had a single accusation left. He couldn't risk making that gamble, and so he needed solid, unquestionable proof that did not rely on the eyes of those peons.

But proof was hard to find. He…couldn't prove the burners have changed. His memory was solid, but it was only his memory, after all.

His mind ached from trying to keep his attention on a dozen things at all times, all the while he was trying to think what else she could be planning, and how he could protect himself from it. It was far, far more than what he had to deal with even in any of the kitchens he worked at - even the most incompetent underlings could be relied on to not actively sabotage him.

He wiped sweat from his forehead, and glanced at Lan Yishan. She was cooking right next to him, whistling a merry tune with a light smile on her face, as if she was simply playing a game.

Yet slowly, but surely, his perfected beef stew, the dish he worked on for many, many months, was coming together. For all her cheating, she couldn't take away his skill. He would win this. He just needed to keep up -

"Dear Fakuang, could you turn on the ice talisman?" He heard a distant voice cut through his iron focus, "It's getting terribly hot in here."

"I tried, but I think it's broken. It happens. Should I send for a replacement?"

"No need. Just open the door and one of the windows for now."

He glanced at Liu Fakuang, already heading towards the door, and as his overstressed mind had just barely started to make connections -

The stove - burners - fire - heat - too hot - strange dish -

- he saw Lan Yishan immediately make a beeline towards the stove.

SHE HAS A PLAN!

NO. NO DOOR.


"Don't open that door!" He shouted, springing back to the oven to watch this monster. Lan Yishan merely flipped over a single piece of breaded filet, and walked right back, winking at him on the way.

"Excuse me?" Wu Lanhua spoke from behind him.

"It's just -" he breathed deeply, trying to organize his thoughts. What was he afraid of? His mind felt sluggish, paralyzed. Something about a stove?

"Honorable immortal Wang, is there a reason you don't want us to open the door?" Wu Lanhua spoke with clear annoyance in her voice, "All the heat is making this room feel stuffy."

He gulped. Mortal she may be, but she was still a judge. He needed her on his side.

"I beg forgiveness, honorable merchant Wu," he forced himself to bow, but his motion came out abrupt, jerky, because just as he started it, Lan Yishan headed for that damnable stove again, and he barely stopped himself from aborting the bow entirely. Whatever she would do with the half a second of added time would be nothing in the face of losing approval from one of the judges, and the largest merchant in the region.

"I simply think it's best we finish the duel as we started it," he continued, "What if - "

Could you prove it, Wang Liu? An accusation…dangerous…

"- what if someone walks in?" He finished lamely, "It could cause questions about the outcome. I beg for understanding, honorable merchant Wu, but I think it's best if we don't open either the door or the windows for the time being."

"Fine." Wu Lanhua sighed, and relief flooded him. He saw her take a fan out of the pocket of her dress, and begin fanning her face rapidly. "But you best finish your dish quickly now."

"It is almost done," he smiled, and finally turned towards the stove, hurrying to check everything for sabotage.

Somehow, he found nothing amiss, which only made him more paranoid.

He did it. His perfected stew was complete, saved from the clutches of that mad witch.

He grinned triumphantly, adding final touches on the beef stew of the six oxen, bringing it all together, and plating it elegantly for the judges. This mad fight in the mud was done, and there was nothing that Lan Yishan could do from here. The only thing left was to be judged on taste.

And when it came to taste, the taste of his dishes was perfect.

"Congratulations," Lan Yishan said with a smile that looked genuine on the surface, but he knew was filled with a thousand poisons, "I hope they like it."

"Why don't you try for yourself?" he asked, handing her the fourth plate. "It's traditional to serve a plate for your competitor. Perhaps this way you would learn the taste of a true spiritual dish."

She smiled at him, and accepted the plate.

He swiped sweat off his brow, making himself look more presentable. He thought it was just the stress of cooking, but the room really was extremely hot now. Three dishes in hand, he brought them over to the dinner table.

"Finally!" Wu Lanhua said, "oh, we were starting to think we wouldn't be done for ages. "

"Oh, but the heights of culinary taste require some time to come together!" he said, getting into the groove of presenting his dish. "This is the stew of the six oxen - and the ox is the strongest of all the twelve heavenly animals! The six different meats of the ox blend together, their delicate tastes complementing each other - let this strength fill your bones, and their vitality your heart!"

As the three judges dug in, he glanced over at the table of Lan Yishan. She had some competent breaded fish filets, an entirely burned fish from the oven, an assortment of fried and fresh vegetables, a fish soup that was boiling away on the stove, a kettle full of hot water, and a second, fish and mushroom soup so overcooked the fish had dissolved entirely, placed in her cold box - perhaps to let it cool down? Did she truly think this would save it?

But that was not important. The only thing that mattered was that she had nothing to work with, and no way to catch up. Even if she could recover, and by some impossible miracle produce a good dish before midnight, by the time she would be done, the judges would already feel full from his stew, and judge him as the victor.

"This is remarkable," Wu Lanhua said, tasting the stew, as her eyelashes fluttered in pleasure, "honorable Wang, I think this time in your sect had been good for you. You have truly improved - this is one of the best stews I have ever tasted."

As his glance slid over her table, he saw Lan Yishan pick up a spoonful of his stew as well, and swallow it. Her face lit up with pure bliss, and he knew he had her.

"Well, Wang Niu," she said, shaking her head, blissful smile never leaving her face, "Even I must bow my head in front of you. The taste of your cooking is truly incredible, and far beyond what I could make."

"In that case," Wu Lanhua spoke slowly, looking at Lan Yishan with a strange expression, "I admit I am not sure there is a point in continuing, if even honorable cultivator Lan doubts she could match this. Unless you disagree?"

He leaned against a wall, and laughed. He had won.

This was the hardest duel of his life, but he had won.

Oh, how she would pay for what she did to him. He would make sure of that.

Author Note: Stew based on Shokugeki No Soma. If you'd like to read four chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.
Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 37: Flip The Game With But A Soft Finger
"The texture, the taste, the raw umami…", Qian Shanyi continued, keeping her half closed eyes on Wang Niu's tired face. He looked so happy, she was barely keeping herself from bursting into laughter. Wu Lanhua kept her curious stare on her, but focused back on the stew. "It's almost like I am fighting this ox myself, and it is winning, trampling me underneath its powerful hooves."

"Well, it's good that you have finally accepted your place." Wang Niu laughed.

"If this was a duel of the dishes, you would have undoubtedly won," she said, her grin slowly filling with malice, as she opened her eyes wide. "It's unfortunate, then, that this is a duel of the chefs - and while you are a great cook, you are, undoubtedly, one of the worst chefs I have ever seen."

"What?" he said, his smile faltering slightly, and she finally let herself laugh as all the eyes in the room turned on her.

It was time to finish this.

"Did you really think that it's the dish that makes a perfect chef?" She kept laughing as she walked back around to her station. "How naive. A chef is not like a cook at all - a chef is a head of the kitchen, the director of an orchestra of cooks who come together to create something beautiful. Merely perfecting your dishes is not enough at all. Let me show you how a real chef cooks!"

From one of the cupboards, she took out a small hourglass, and slammed it down on the counter, letting the sand fall.

"Three minutes," she grinned, "in three minutes, my dish will be complete, or my name is not Lan Yishan!"

"Impossible!" He said, unknowingly playing along, the fool. "You have barely even started!"

"Oh please," she laughed again, "I could have finished it twenty minutes ago. The only reason I waited was so that I could present it second. Behold…My secret ingredient!"

She reached into her ice box, the talisman inside of it well on the way to burning out after many hours of use, and brought out a large bowl of ramen noodles. She raised it above her head with both hands as if making an offering to the heavens, angling it slightly so that the judges could see what was in it.

"What? No, how -" he said, clearly panicking, "When did you have time to make them?!"

"Did you truly think I unpacked everything from this chest of wonders, simply because I laid out so much already? How naive!" She laughed again, tossing the noodles into the hot soup on the stove to let them rehydrate. "A true chef always keeps a secret or three up their sleeves!"

Moving quickly, she grabbed an empty pot, covered it with a clean cloth, tying it in place with a piece of rope that slithered out of her robes. With her other hand, she lifted the pot of soup she left in her ice box, now at just the right temperature, and poured it over the top, filtering out the broth.

"I made the noodles as soon as you left the boat, you fool," she said, commenting on what she was doing, "we have only agreed on the cost of the ingredients, not on how raw and unprocessed they had to be - and the noodles are dirt cheap! But despite their cost…the noodles are a perfect weapon for any chef, far more valuable than even their knife! Just like rice, you can turn noodles into practically any dish - a hot dish, a cold dish, a filling dish, or even a sweet dish. Their versatility is almost infinite."

The solids in the soup collected on the cloth, and she grabbed a wooden spoon, stirring the mixture, forcing it to filter faster.

Two minutes left.

"Adaptability is the first key virtue of any chef!" she continued, "Who can say in advance what would happen in a kitchen? Perhaps a dish would burn, or a junior would chop off their own arm, or an enemy cultivator would burst through the doors! But a great chef must be able to cook in any circumstances, no matter how bizarre, they must improvise and adapt their cooking on the fly. How could you adapt without versatile ingredients?"

She gestured to the glass casing enclosing the non-functional cold air talisman. The eyes of the judges were glued to her, the stew in front of them all but forgotten.

"What are the circumstances at play? There are two absolutely crucial factors," she continued, "first of all, we are in a duel! If you are in a duel, are you not fighting for your own life? That means you must think ahead, and make sure that no singular screw-up will cost you the victory, no matter what your opponent does. Secondly, the room is too hot, because the cooling talisman has broken! And if the room is too hot, then the way you should adapt is by making a cold and refreshing dish!"

"It's true," Wu Lanhua said, surprise clear in her tone, her left hand fanning her own face faster. "I haven't thought of it, but this stew really doesn't fit the temperature."

The soup kept pouring, but it was almost over. Wang Niu was grimacing as if she had stabbed a knife straight through his stomach.

"But that path was forever closed to you when you picked your dish, junior cook Wang Niu," she laughed, "A beef stew cannot be cool and refreshing, because as soon as you tried to cool it, the hot, liquid animal fat would solidify and, at best, turn it into aspic. That was your second failure, an unforgivable lack of foresight. Picking beef stew as your dish, when you knew nothing about me or my methods, and could neither predict nor control the circumstances of the duel, meant you had crippled yourself right from the start. Compare that to my pick - "

One minute left.

She grabbed four bowls, and made them spin at the center of her working area. Grabbing the pot with her noodles off the stove, she quickly strained the noodles out, and divided them among the four bowls.

She wished she could toss them through the air, but her skills were still nowhere near the ramen-tossing realm.

"- fish ramen! It can be served in hundreds of different ways. Its preparation cannot be stopped by any given ingredient going missing - because it has no true set of ingredients. It is a perfect choice for a duel like ours."

She pulled the cloth off the pot, bringing all the filtered solids away, and quickly poured the clean, smooth broth into the four bowls. With a few quick moves, she added the fish filets to the bowls, fresh and fried vegetables, and cooked mushrooms as garnish.

"But you didn't think about that at all, did you?" She shook her head sadly, bringing the dishes over to the dining table, "This was another failure of yours. Oh, your mind is like an open book - you focused on making the perfect dish, one that could only truly be made by someone of your skill, but you forgot that you were supposed to make the dish fit to the tastes of the judges, not your own. I've tasted your stew - it is so incredibly rich in flavor, that only another cultivator could possibly truly appreciate it - and as cultivators, we are already less affected by the heat and cold, so of course you would forget about the air temperature. But two out of three judges are not cultivators - is that truly the best dish you could have made, under these circumstances?"

She placed the bowls in front of the judges just as the last grains of sand in the hourglass fell down.

"Please enjoy this cool and refreshing soup, honorable judges. I hope it helps you cope with this unbearable heat," she smiled, and turned fully to Wang Niu.

She stretched out her hand with the last bowl invitingly, but he did not take it. A shame.

"Perhaps in the nice, clean, structured duels you had with other cultivators of your sect, you could simply win on taste alone." She shook her head again. "But this is the real world, and you can't simply get by that easily - not that someone like you could understand this. You need planning! Preparation! Presentation! I could see the smoke of disdain in your eyes when I was juggling the vegetables, instead of peeling them straightforwardly. But entertaining the guests in any way is the job of the chef - the raw taste is only a narrow part of the entire experience!"

"This is pure luck. You are making this up as you go." He scowled. "If the talisman wouldn't have broken, all this rhetoric would be pointless."

"Yet you are the one who stopped us from opening that door," Wu Lanhua said, taking a sip of her ramen, her face brightening immediately. Wang Niu reeled back, as if struck by a blow.

"The door? The door is not half of it, honorable merchant Wu," Qian Shanyi shook her head again, heading back to her table, "Honorable cultivator Wang could have easily prepared for this eventuality, even if he was dead set on making a beef stew."

She reached back into her ice box. "Behold, my second secret ingredient…Pure ice!"

Looking at him, she thought Wang Niu was about to have a heart attack.

She pulled out a chunk of ice, wrapped it up in a cloth, and punched it hard enough to shatter it into nuggets. Taking five glasses out of one of the cupboards, she quickly filled them with the hot water from a kettle, added some sugar, squeezed half of a lemon into each glass, and finally dropped in enough shattered ice to chill the mixture instantly.

"We both agreed to prepare a main dish, but nothing in our rules stopped you from preparing a side dish as well," she said, stirring the fresh lemonade to make sure the sugar was completely dissolved, "a well-planned side dish could have easily compensated for the weaknesses of the stew. No, this is simply yet another failure of imagination."

She brought the glasses to the table, and toasted everyone in the room.

"You knew there would be a stove, and so a source of heat," she said, "yet you did not bring ice, a source of cold? A talisman in an ice box can only do so much. How pathetic of a chef could you possibly be?"

He grit his teeth, his face going red, but did not say anything more. She sipped her lemonade calmly, waiting for the judges to taste both dishes, and make their decision. The minutes stretched on, with the three of them whispering to each other quietly, until Wu Lanhua raised her hand.

"Well, I admit I did not expect this reversal of fortunes after tasting your stew, honorable immortal Wang," said Wu Lanhua, "but we must give this victory to Lan Yishan."

"What?" Wang Niu exclaimed, "This is an outrage!"

"It was a narrow decision," she continued calmly, "even despite how inappropriate a hot stew is in a room that is turning into a sauna, your cooking has been simply incredible. And while this ramen is quite refreshing… Yishan, there are no true problems with it that we could taste, but it is not particularly exemplary either."

Qian Shanyi simply nodded her head. She was only cooking for less than a month, that was only to be expected.

"However, ultimately, I think honorable immortal Lan is right," Wu Lanhua continued, "and while rhetoric was not initially a part of this duel, my fellow judges agree with me. We cannot judge a chef simply on the merits of the dish, and as a chef, she wins on pretty much every other metric - preparation, planning, cost of ingredients, panache and presentation, and so on. I am afraid… you have lost this one, honorable immortal Wang."

"This is unacceptable!" He slashed his hand to the side, scowling at Wu Lanhua. "This - this slop, and some spoken nonsense do not make her a chef! Your so-called 'judgment' is a farce, and you -"

"Hold your tongue," Liu Fakuang spoke sharply, standing up slowly from the table, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Wu Lanhua smiled, crossing her arms, letting him talk. "Before you kill yourself with it."

Wang Niu glanced at Liu Fakuang, and stepped back, a drop of sweat sliding down his forehead.

"Are you saying my fiance is a liar?" Liu Fakuang said, nodding sharply at Wang Niu, "Well?"

"I - no, honorable spirit hunter Liu," he muttered, his voice turning gray.

"Are you saying that I am one? Is my word that this duel was judged honestly not enough for you?"

"No, of course not." Wang Niu shook his head.

"Then do you accept the outcome?"

He balled his hands into fists, and for a moment, Qian Shanyi thought he would lash out after all… but instead, tension left him all at once.

"There is nothing more to say," he said, his voice turning gray, "I have agreed to the terms, and if the honorable judges say I have lost, then I suppose it is so."

"Good," Liu Fakuang nodded, sitting back down, "now apologize to all those whose honor you almost impugned, and you may leave."

"I am sorry for my sharp words, honorable merchant Wu, fellow cultivator Liu," Wang Niu bowed deeply, "this was a hard and long duel, and I spoke without thinking. This brings great shame to my name, but I hope you could forgive my misstep."

"No harm was done," Wu Lanhua said.

Wang Niu bowed again, and turned to leave.

"Stop," Liu Fakuang called after him, "I said all. This leaves Lan Yishan."

Wang Niu turned back to her, and she saw his face shift through a dozen grimaces as his spirit fought against itself.

"I apologize," he ceded through his closed teeth.

That's it?

"Fellow cultivator Wang." She smiled, not able to hold herself back. "Perhaps I could offer you a bit of advice, from one immortal chef to another?"

He nodded, and she approached him, putting her lips right next to his ear, and whispering so quietly they barely moved.

"You know…These ice talismans are so fragile," she whispered, "so delicate. Why, if someone wanted to sabotage one… it would be ever so easy…"

He jerked back from her, and she saw his eyes fill with murderous rage, his lips trembling over his bared teeth. She held his gaze with a smile.

Come on, you pompous, arrogant fuck, she thought, her face a mask of perfect innocence, call me out on it. You know you want to. Give me my triple prize.

But he did not. Instead, he turned, and fled, not saying goodbye.

"Junior cook Wang Nui, if you can't take the heat, you should… Stay out of my kitchen!" she declared triumphantly after him, slashing her hand through the air like the blade of a vengeful angel.

He didn't look back.

That fool never stood a chance.

"What did you say to him?" Wu Lanhua shook her head, once her friend Li Shangwen made his excuses to retire for the night, and the three of them were left alone. Qian Shanyi quickly cleaned up the kitchen, made some late night tea, and brought it alongside her victory prize over to the dining table. "I've never seen Wang Niu make that kind of face before."

"I simply gave him some pointers on his strategy," Qian Shanyi replied with an easy smile, "if he studiously meditates on them, then perhaps in ten or twenty years he would be ready to challenge me again."

"Yishan, I need him to cook for me in a couple months, not a decade." Wu Lanhua groaned, rubbing her eyes. "No matter his stupidity, I simply don't have another chef anywhere near his skill. I would have to send him a message before we leave, to make amends for what happened here. Did you have to push him this much?"

"He did it to himself." Qian Shanyi snorted. "He had every opportunity to simply walk away. If I hold out my hand and someone runs their face directly into it, I have hardly slapped them, have I?"

"I suppose I am one to talk," Wu Lanhua muttered, "I could have mediated this conflict better between you two, but the idea of watching this duel play out was far too interesting to pass up."

"I hope I have managed to entertain your personage, honorable merchant Wu?" Qian Shanyi gave her a small mock bow without getting up.

"Immensely. Thank you for your cooperation." Wu Lanhua nodded, sipping her tea. "Still, some things do not quite make sense to me. You said the ramen dish could use any ingredients - yet you have also cooked a large fish, far too big to fit into a bowl, which you ended up burning. What was the point of that?"

"Mainly, to give me an excuse to set the oven heat far higher than what his ox cheeks could handle. Since I didn't need the fish itself, burning it up in the process was completely acceptable."

"An obvious cheat, then? I am surprised he didn't call you on it."

"Cheating is in the eye of the beholder," Qian Shanyi said, playing with one of her new knives, watching sparks spread across its surface when she channeled her spiritual energy into it. It almost felt like the knife was sucking up spiritual energy, such was the contrast to the ordinary steel she was used to, and it also felt lighter, easier to handle. "We have agreed that any cheating has to be proven by either one of us; since he didn't call me out, everything I did is entirely in accordance with the rules, essentially by definition. As for the general principle, I don't see how structuring my approach to make his work harder is cheating, any more than taking my opponents pieces in a game of shatranj is cheating - this is a duel, after all. And if, by some miracle, he managed to notice the trick in time - I could have used the fish after all, perhaps by turning it into cutlets at the last minute. It wasn't only there as a counter-cook."

"What interests me more is how you managed to catch all that fish," said Liu Fakuang, "before, you spent several hours on the ship with only a single one to show for it."

"With the flying sword technique you helped me test earlier today," she said.

"Yishan, that malformed technique exploded."

"Exactly." She smiled. "It's stable enough to last for a couple seconds, before violently exploding. Far too dangerous to use in a fight, of course, but more than good enough against some fish. An underwater explosion stuns them, you see, and they simply float up to the surface - while the shrapnel is stopped by the water."

Liu Fakuang shook his head.

"I wondered why you would study immortal chef techniques from a spirit hunter," he said, "but if that's the kind of thinking you were taught, then I can see it. Who else would risk blowing their own arm off in the kitchen?"

"To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens, fellow cultivator Fakuang," she said, smiling wider, "and the heavens bestowed upon us no dish, only plants that grow in the forests and demon beasts that stalk us through the darkest night. What, then, is cooking, if not the purest form of rebellion?"

She toasted him with her cup of tea.

"To take from the heavens in order to bring joy to your fellow man," she said, "is this not the true purpose of all good cultivators?"

Author Note: If you'd like to read three chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.
Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 38: Leap Through Clouds On Hungry Curls
Lunar Whisper set off down the river an hour later, and their chase for Wang Yonghao was on again, the speedy yacht quickly making up for lost time. Privately, Wu Lanhua told her that her own business had concluded - they would deliver Qian Shanyi where she had to go, and then return to Xiaohongshan.

The next three days have passed in a blur. She trained, she visited the local libraries for research, and she experimented with cooking back on the ship. She finished altering the needle control technique - it only required another night full of algebra to find the small errors she made, and a pair of tests that found some more - but by now, she was already starting to practice her control.

Her research into luck and the heavens had reached something of a dead end. This wasn't that unexpected - all the remaining towns between her and Wang Yonghao were small ones, and their libraries only held the most generic of books - but disappointing nonetheless.

Once she ran dry, she moved her research in the direction of taxation, and how they could form their own sect - after all, once she caught up with Wang Yonghao, the next challenge would be selling off his treasury, and she wasn't about to pay those ridiculous loose cultivator taxes. The rules varied greatly based on what the sect intended to do, but at minimum, it needed to consist of ten cultivators and twice that many outer disciples, a sect compound of a certain size, and a negotiated taxation agreement with the empire - all of which seemed securely out of reach.

It was, ironically, a lot easier to get recognition for a sect branch from outside the empire than to register a new one within it. At the very least, that did not require her to prove a minimum number of members, or to have a sect compound - but proving her sect already existed was a challenge in itself, seeing how in fact it did not, and her word would not suffice. Something to think about, in any case.

Far, far more troubling was the heavenly vow in her mind. It would grow angry whenever they stopped in any town to resupply, wanting her to push on to Yonghao at the highest speed, aching at the edge of her awareness like the threat of a migraine, or a worm wriggling between the teeth of her mind. Whenever they set off again, it would quiet down, but over the last couple days this feeling stopped receding, and changed, from sharp, distinct spikes of wrongness to a vague slathering of mistrust.

Her best guess was that the vow was simply beginning to fray - whatever understanding she had with the Heavens, whatever trust they put in her, they were losing it. She needed to get to Wang Yonghao soon, or else she would be in much deeper shit than ever before.

She didn't know what ticked the heavens off. The vow was still fine after her argument with Liu Fakuang, and even though it kept stabbing her through her thoughts all throughout the duel, it still quieted down afterwards. Perhaps it wasn't even anything she did, but merely one of the angels going over her past records, and finally noticing something out of place.

That was how Wu Lanhua found her on the front deck of the ship, with the sun high up in the sky, leaning against the railing and despairing about her life, tapping her scroll case against her shoulder.

"Lan Yishan!" she said, coming up behind her, "I was starting to think you were a figment of my imagination, or perhaps a spirit only appearing at lunchtime."

"What?" She turned to her, scandalized.

"You hardly ever leave your room, always busy with a book or a sword." Wu Lanhua shook her head. "It is strange to see you simply relax."

"I relax plenty." she crossed her arms on her chest, "It is just that I have a lot on my plate."

"In your sleep, perhaps?" Wu Lanhua laughed. "Come up to me and Fakuang sometime, let us talk - or we could play a game if that is your fancy. I see that your plate has finally cleared up?"

She squinted at Wu Lanhua.

"...I was thinking of training my control over my flying sword in the wind, until we reach the next town," she finally admitted.

"Lake of Peace, was it?" Wu Lanhua shook her head ruefully, "Well, do not wait on my account. If you'd like to practice, then do so. You could still talk, I hope?"

"I could," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you afraid for your safety? This technique was exploding merely a couple days ago, after all."

"My Fakuang assured me it is safe." She waved her off. "Something about a stable flow of spiritual energy. You do not strike me as someone who takes entirely needless risks, so if you are practicing without a shield, then I do not think I need one either."

Qian Shanyi snorted, but unclipped her sword sheath from her belt.

She held it away from her body, and poured spiritual energy into it, circulating it in the pattern she had calculated, and then practiced for hours until she could get it right every time - as long as she was not rushing. It would take many weeks of constant practice for it to burn itself into her meridians and become truly instinctual, but for now, it was good enough.

The spiritual energy caught on the metal blade within the sheath and spun together into the complex structure of jets, wings, and control elements. The power inside grew, burning her hand with the acrid blasts from the invisible jets that would propel the sword forwards. When the metal itself started to hum from repressed vibrations, she folded her other hand into the shape of the control sigil, and the sword launched itself into the air with a soft clap of released air. Invisible wings unfurled themselves in full, stabilizing it twenty meters ahead of the ship, easily keeping pace. A thin rope line, tied to the sword hilt, stretched back to her - just in case she lost control over the technique entirely, and the sword fell into the water.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked, sending the sword through a series of aerial maneuvers by changing the position of her controlling hand. The technique could be manipulated with your mind alone, but that was harder, and the manual suggested learning it step by step.

"I've asked my Fakuang about this vow of yours, and what would happen if you fail to fulfill it," Wu Lanhua said, leaning over the railing and watching her sword dance in the air.

"I wouldn't fail," she said, automatically. As if there was any other answer she could give, with the Heavens still watching.

"Quite confident."

"I am a confident woman."

"Is that why you spend so much time working?" Wu Lanhua said, "Because you want to be sure you will fulfill it?"

"The vow is a part of it," Qian Shanyi said, letting the double meaning drift in the air, "but no, I have always cultivated hard."

"But why?"

"Why not?" She raised an eyebrow. "I like cultivation. I always dreamed of being a cultivator, and my many frustrations aside, it's every bit as satisfying as I have always imagined. And now, I even have a flying sword. Watch!"

She turned her sword around, sending it back towards the ship at the highest speed she could safely manage, and leaped up into the air. Her fingers closed over the hilt just as it whistled past her, and she released the technique before it could rip the skin off her palms, letting the momentum flip her over her head, and landed back on the deck with a gentle spin.

"Isn't this amazing?" She grinned, turning back to Wu Lanhua. "Why would I need another reason?"

"I see," Wu Lanhua said, clearly not impressed by her acrobatics, and so she sheathed her sword and walked back to the railing.

"I only wish it was powerful enough to carry me through the sky," Qian Shanyi said, shaking her head, "but sadly not. But now that you are here, Lanhua, perhaps you could help me."

She took the scroll case off her back and unrolled the map of the region, pointing to a pair of towns on opposite sides of a long, narrow valley stretching from the mountains. The river they were on passed a good distance away from them, separated by a wide forest, before making a U-turn and doubling back.

"I need to get here - to Reflection Ridge or Glaze Ridge, whichever one is easiest," she said, pointing to each of the towns, "as you can see, Lake of Peace is the closest spot to them, but still a good distance away. The next closest spot is a good two days of travel away from us."

Based on her tracking, Wang Yonghao had traveled from Lake of Peace to Reflection Ridge just a few days ago - but he could have simply walked through the air, above all the dangers of a forest.

"Certainly," Wu Lanhua said, "what of it?"

"Do you think there might be a path between Lake of Peace and Reflection Ridge?" she asked with hope in her voice, "if only I could get there faster…"

Wu Lanhua shook her head, breaking her hope on the spot.

"I know these towns - there is no such road."

"You know them?"

"Perhaps I should be clearer." Wu Lanhua frowned, "I have never visited them, but I know they manufacture lenses for the telegraphs that the Flowing Scarlet River sect is building all over the place. Perhaps you've seen the towers? We passed a couple on our way here."

Qian Shanyi frowned. She dimly remembered something of that nature.

"But if you have never been in person…" she began.

"Nor would anybody build one through a forest, Yishan," Wu Lanhua shook her head, "it simply does not make any economic sense to do so, when you could travel by the river and only lose a couple days. Roads are expensive, slow, hard to maintain and keep safe from demon beasts, and difficult to transport goods over, because of course you still have to feed your pack animals. Rivers are none of those things. Hunting paths - perhaps - but a road, with someone willing to transport you, almost certainly not."

Qian Shanyi pursed her lips in disappointment. She wasn't sure she could afford to wait two days, with her vow fraying as rapidly as it already was.

"If you do not believe me," Wu Lanhua continued, "you could ask the postmaster in Lake of Peace. Perhaps there is something unusual here, but do not get your hopes up."

"There really aren't any roads there," the Lake of Peace postmaster shook his head when she showed him the map, "pretty much nothing there, in fact. Not even a hunting lodge."

"And so no way to pass through?" She sighed, rolling the paper back up. Too much to hope for, she supposed.

"You can pass through, but I wouldn't recommend it," he said, "it's easy to get lost, and that forest is dangerous right now. We had an attack from a mushroom spirit just a few days ago - you can still see the rampant growths at the edge of the town. Although, one of the loose cultivators who helped us protect the town headed in that direction right after, so I suppose it's your choice."

"Did he say what his name was?" She raised her eyebrow.

"Wang something. I think it started with Yo?"

"Yonghao?"

"That's it." Postmaster snapped his fingers. "Do you know him?"

"Shared friends, I suppose," she said. It was nice to have a confirmation that did not depend on luck, but without a way to quickly reach the other town, it was pointless to even try. On foot across a dense forest, she could never catch up to Wang Yonghao, who could walk above the treetops whenever he wanted to.

She packed up the map in her scroll case, and headed for the doors.

"Actually," he called after her, and she turned back with a questioning look, "there is a postrunner who brought some mail from Reflection Ridge not too long ago. He may still be in a tavern close by, playing music - you could ask him how he did it. I think his name was Hui Yin - short, wearing white robes."

"Thanks for the advice," she nodded, and walked out the door.

She heard Hui Yin before she saw him. The strange, droning sound filled the tavern, coming from a foreign instrument in his hands - shaped like a string instrument, but with a handle on the side he spun with one hand, and an array of switches he pressed with another, changing the notes. The strings, such as they were, were spread all around it, though hard to see behind a painted wooden cover.

Hui Yin was, true to his description, short - a good two heads shorter than her, in fact. The cut of his robes was tight - fit for travel or grappling, if somewhat unfashionable. A wooden circlet, sitting low on his forehead, just above his eyes, kept the hair out of his face as he played.

She settled down to wait for him to finish, and ordered a kettle of tea. The Lunar Whisper needed to unload some trade goods, so she had some time to spare.

When he finished his performance, he went around the room accepting small tips from other customers, and she motioned him over to her.

"Hui Yin?" she said, handing him a whole silver yuan, "Postmaster told me you may be able to help me. I would appreciate a short conversation."

He raised an eyebrow at her large tip, and once he made a circle around the room, he came back to take a seat at her table.

"I am looking to deliver a package to Reflection Ridge, as soon as possible," she said, "is that within your capabilities?"

"In principle, sure," he said, "how much does it weigh, and when do you need it done?"

"Immediately, and about eighty kilos", she said, making a guess at her own weight, plus everything she was carrying. "How quickly could you get it there?"

"Lady, we just got to this city," he grimaced, and turned to get up, "Curls didn't even have a chance to rest yet. I am not going to move her for at least a couple days."

Well, he didn't deny he could do it.

"Twenty spirit stones," she said quietly, and he stopped and sat back down, giving a low whistle. "Thirty if you manage to get it there before sundown."

"Oh we'll manage it alright," he grinned, "but how do I know you are good for it?"

She reached into her robes, pulled out her pouch of spirit stones, and showed him a handful, cupping her hand to keep the fortune hidden from the rest of the tavern.

"Can you do it?"

"Meet me at the town edge facing the forest in twenty minutes" he said, glancing out of the window at the sun, "and pack this package of yours as tightly as you can. If you want it done by sundown, the ride will be rough."

She sprinted back to the ship at once, gave her heartfelt thanks to Wu Lanhua and Liu Fakuang, promised to write them later, and barged into her cabin. She had only a scant few minutes to pack up her things.

Thankfully, she owned precious little, so she didn't need to decide what to leave behind. Her writing and sewing sets weighed almost nothing, and she packed them inside of her knife chest, alongside most of the pills and talismans she purchased, wrapped tightly in her spare set of cultivator robes. One of her remaining swords fit in as well, while the other one she managed to hide in her scroll case. Her dress - a gift from Lanhua, after all - went into the bag with the dioptra, alongside her hat.

She had already burned the papers with her spiritual energy calculations, and her scant research notes about heaven and tribulations fit neatly into her scroll case.

With everything packed, she gave her cabin one last glance. Just short of a week she had spent on this ship was a whirlwind of emotions, of triumph and despair, and something in her ached to leave it all behind.

She pulled in a long, slow breath, and expelled the air from her lungs all at once. Well, time to go.

She sprinted through the town, worried that the postrunner wouldn't be where he promised, or that he lied about his abilities.

Perhaps she should have told him the package was herself.

When she came to the town walls, she simply hopped across, not even bothering to find a gate, and sprinted alongside the wall, looking around for any sign of Hui Yin. The man told her to meet her "at the edge of the forest", and in her excitement she didn't bother to clarify, but the damnable edge was long. Hopefully they wouldn't simply pass each other.

The town's gate - small, most likely only there so that lumberjacks could supply the town with wood - soon came into view, and she slowed down as she approached it. It was covered in mushroom growths, several meters thick, and she saw laborers on the wall and below it sawing into them, dragging blocks of sponge and mycelium away. The forest next to the gate bore signs of battle - trees cut, burns on the ground, and here and there, spots of blood, where rain had not yet washed it away.

She imagined what would have happened if the mushroom spirit was allowed into the town, and shuddered. She would have to thank Wang Yonghao later, though he was sure to blame himself for the spirit coming here in the first place.

As she stood in place, giving the gate a last look, some pinprick of awareness told her danger was behind her, and she leaped forward and out of the way, already drawing her sword out of its scabbard. When her gaze fell behind her, her eyes widened in terror.

Out of the forest slithered an ivory white snake, its head as large - no, larger than a person. Spiritual energy emanated from it - that must have been what she had sensed - and its scales, long, a cross between a scale and a feather, moved like waves across its body. Despite its size, its movements were quiet, measured.

In its eyes, she saw intelligence, and ravenous hunger.

A demon beast of this size, right next to the town, was a crisis. An intelligent one was a disaster. If it struck, she would be surely dead in seconds - and the common laborers on the walls stood no chance at all.

She was prepared to leap again as soon as she landed, but just then she saw Hui Yin, of all people, appear on top of the snake's head, his strange musical instrument hanging in front of his chest. He waved at her, seemingly unconcerned about the monster.

"Hey, it's you!" he said, "So where's the package?"

She steadied her nerves with a pair of long breaths, slowly sheathing her sword. He must be a demon beast trainer, that was all - though the bastard really should have warned her. If she had a technique that could kill a snake of this size, she would have already struck.

"I am the package," she said instead of chastising him, and came closer, "as well as my things."

"I see," he said, and tapped the snake's head a couple times. Its body moved slowly, lowering him to the ground. "You sure you can handle the ride?"

"I expected a horse," she said, looking up at him. Now that the head was on the ground, she saw a complex leather harness attached behind the snake's head and extending down it's neck, held in place with chains and bolts driven straight into the scales. By how calm the snake was, it didn't seem to mind.

"This is Curls," Hui Yin said, patting the snake's enormous head as if it was merely a little cat, not a monster that could swallow him whole. It was a wonder that he could control it, being still in the refinement stage. "Come say hi."

"I would rather not."

"Afraid it's not optional, lady. You want to ride, you have to pet Curls. That's how she knows who not to eat."

She swallowed a knot in her throat, and slowly approached the head. The snake - Curls - flickered its long tongue, lightning fast, over one eye, and then the other, and she realized it must have been blinking. Slowly, carefully, she extended her hand forwards.

"Go ahead, she won't bite you like this," Hui Yin said, "She's a smart girl."

Very slowly, she placed her hand on the Curls' scales, and was surprised to find them strong, but yielding, and quite warm to the touch.

"There you go!" Hui Yin smiled at her. "Wasn't so bad, now was it? Now give me half pay up front, and let's put your things away."

He led her to the snake's head, where she saw a mess of leather straps and flaps of fabric, easy to resize to fit packages of any shape… But they all looked rather small in volume. That was a problem.

"Didn't think you'd be riding yourself," he said, scratching his head, "should have said so from the start. Will have to redo some bindings here, will just take a moment."

While he worked the leather straps, she took out her dioptra, tore off the angular compass with her fingers, and tossed the rest aside. Angle compass was the hardest part to make - the rest would only take a minute with the help of a decent carpenter, and the big, unwieldy chair was an unjustifiable waste of space.

Opening up her knife case, she took out her sewing set, unspooled a good length of thread, and tied her sword scabbard securely to her thigh, and the sword to the top of the scabbard. She would have to tear the thread to pull it out, but she feared that otherwise, it would simply slip out, when the snake started to slither along as fast as a horse gallop.

A couple minutes later, her things were packed away, tied up securely within one of the leather pockets, and she herself was being tied to a "saddle" of sorts by her legs, right behind the head.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked Hui Yin.

"Yeah, trust me," he laughed, "Curls isn't gentle, and if you want to be there by sundown, we'll have to really fly. I have a chain to secure me, but you don't know how to use the chain, so you get the straps. You don't want to be thrown off, do you?"

She shook her head, and didn't object. He pointed out two handles for her to hold onto, and she did so as well, swallowing another knot in her throat. How fast could a snake possibly slither?

"Alright," he said, climbing on top of the snake's head, and grabbing a steel chain that he attached to a carabiner on his torso. The other end was riveted directly into the scales of the snake - or perhaps even into the skull beneath. "It's not the first time I do this, so you have nothing to worry about. Just keep your mouth closed, mostly, so the dirt doesn't fly in."

"The dirt?" she asked.

"Yeah, from the ground? Lots of it will be flying around," he said, pulling out another, much thinner chain, and attaching it to his musical instrument. She felt spiritual energy flow out of his body, and the handle on the side started to turn on its own, the same droning, strange sound coming out of it. "Now, I won't be able to hear you, so don't bother shouting, but I'll try to turn around every fifteen minutes or so to check that you are fine. If you pass out…you pass out, don't worry, you are tied down, won't go anywhere."

The music changed, going through a combination of five different notes, and Curls rose up, curling in on itself, until they were sitting easily ten meters above the ground. From her new vantage point, she saw laborers on the walls looking at them in curiosity. The alarm in her heart only grew.

"If you won't be able to hear me," she said, louder than she intended, "then why do you need the music?"

"Ha!" He laughed, flicking the thin chain connecting his instrument to the snake. His body stood at a steep angle, feet planted securely against its skull, and with both hands on the larger chain between them. "Music's not for us, it's for Curls. She won't hear you none, either, but she feels vibrations through the tie - that's how I tell her where to go."

The snake had curled itself up completely, just like a spring, and suddenly, she realized it would not be slithering at all.

"Ready?" he asked her, and even though she felt anything but, she still nodded.

"Kashar-tuk!" Hui Yin shouted, and Curls unfurled itself like an arrow from a warbow, launching high up into the sky, punching through the air with sheer force of the impact, driving all air out of her lungs and whipping the hair behind her as they flew, flew, up into the sky, her fingers growing white on the handles as the tried to keep herself in place, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them safe from the wind.

And then suddenly, the force was gone, only the deafening whistle of the wind in her ears to keep her company. She relaxed her fingers, and carefully opened her eyes, adjusting to the wind.

As she glanced behind, she saw the entire town behind them as if it was merely a child's toy. She saw Lunar Whisper, and the river snaking around the countryside, just like on a painting. They must have leaped hundreds of meters up into the air, and were still rising. Excitement rose up in her, and she giggled like a little girl, fear of the jump forgotten. This was what flying felt like, and it was amazing.

And then they started to fall.

She knew it would happen, of course, but the panic still gripped her, sending her back to the fight with that damnable fish, only now she could do nothing, nothing whatsoever because she was tied down by the damnable straps as she saw the arc of their flight bend, twist, turn towards the ground that got closer and closer and closer, trees growing in size fast, far too fast and she was going to die -

And then they crashed into the forest, and she saw nothing except a cloud of dirt and wooden splinters, her ears ringing from the sheer cacophony of it all, but there was no time to process it because Curls simply leaped again, and the sky was back, and so was the wind and someone's scream, someone close - oh it was her scream. With the sheer force of will, she forced herself to close her mouth. As she glanced around, she noted with some relief that the snake's head must have kept her safe from most of the splinters and dirt.

Yeah, these straps were not optional.

She glanced up at Hui Yin, who was somehow managing to stay in place with a mere chain, repositioning himself on the snake's head with very light steps. He turned around, glanced at her face, and gave her a thumbs up, and she resolved that if she was going to survive this, she was going to punch him in the face.

Wang Yonghao better be worth this.

As the sun was setting, Qian Shanyi's tired, red eyes had finally spotted a town in the distance. How many more jumps was it? Ten? Twenty? She decided to be optimistic and settled on ten. As Curls crashed back down into the forest, she tensed her hips in the way she learned through hours of experimentation, rolling with the impact as much as she could and letting it pass though her, before Curls leaped again, and she let her muscles relax. She learned early on not to keep them tense for longer than absolutely necessary.

The terror of the jumps did not last: the mind adapted to anything after a while, and soon enough the jumps turned into soreness, exhaustion, and at this point, simply pain.

This nightmare was finally about to end.

Jump one…

Jump five…

Jump thirteen…

Sweet heavenbreakers, how much longer?

In the end, it was twenty five jumps.

For a bit, she didn't realize that Curls had stopped, simply thinking that this was an abnormally long jump, but no. They were on the ground, Curls was lowering her head, and Hui Yin turned to look at her as he unclasped his chains, with surprise in his eyes.

"You are still awake?" he said, admiration plain in his voice. "Man, you must have a talent for snakeriding!"

"Fuck you," she wheezed, her lips completely dry after many hours of staying in the wind. Her entire body shook, tension suddenly gone from it.

"Hey, I am serious!" the fucker laughed, "first time my teacher took me on Curls, I pissed myself and woke up when we stopped. And that was only like fifteen minutes."

"And you didn't tell me?" she said, barely managing to gather enough energy for a small scowl.

"Sorry, tradition," he shrugged, "don't warn people for their first time. Still, how was it?"

She didn't respond, trying to get the nervous shakes in her body to stop.

"I see, that good?" he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Well, let's get you untied. We are finally here - and a good hour before sundown, no less!"

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, and felt him begin to unstrap her.

"Alright, you are free. Can you get up on your own?"

"No."

"Jelly legs, huh? Yeah, that happens. Alright, let me help you up."

He approached her to give her a hand, and she threw a punch at his jaw. She even managed to hit, for all the good it did her - she had just enough spiritual energy left in her body after this wild ride to not let her circulation collapse on her again, like it did after her vow, and not a drop to spare. Her fist cracked against his spiritual energy shield, and she let her hand fall down, defeated.

"Feisty!" He laughed again, good naturedly, pushing her hand aside. "Alright, you get up on your own then."

She grunted, and a couple minutes later, finally managed to roll herself off Curls and flop onto the ground. She still couldn't stand.

She heard him place her bags next to her, and opened her eyes to look him straight in the face, where he crouched next to her head.

"Alright, as an apology, and since you are still awake, how about I teach you a technique to keep the wind and rain out of your eyes?" he said. "It's a simple one, and would be good for you if you ever master a flying sword - keeps your eyes from getting all puffy."

She nodded slightly, and he showed her how to circulate spiritual energy around her eyes to cover them with a transparent membrane of force. It was a modification of the spiritual energy shield - the basic one was porous, and so did fuck all against wind or water, though it could still protect against droplets, as she had learned very thoroughly on this very trip. She tried it on her own, and by the time it clicked, she managed to get up on her feet, though with some difficulty. When one of her legs almost gave out under her, she felt her hand land on something hard and warm, and turned her head to come face to face with Curls giving her some support.

Good Curls.

"The rest of your thirty spirit stones," she wheezed, her throat still far too dry to speak normally as she counted them out, "well deserved, I think, even if this was the worst trip of my life. Get Curls something nice to eat - a horse, maybe."

"Oh we will." He laughed. "Thanks, you've probably kept us fed for a good while. If you ever need our services again - "

"I would rather die."

" - we tend to move around the empire, so you won't find us anyways."

She nodded, leaned down to check her things - everything was in place - and then waved at Curls and Hui Yin, who climbed on top, and slithered away towards the town. She hobbled in the same direction, working out the kinks from her arms and legs as she went.

She had finally reached Reflection Ridge. Wang Yonghao was here: now she just had to find him.

Author Note: If you'd like to read two chapters ahead, or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.
Thanks for reading!​
 
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Chapter 39: Bleed And Scream On Fields Of Glass
As she walked through the town, she popped a spirit stone into her mouth, and started to draw spiritual energy out of it and into her meridians, enjoying the soft, crackling feeling on her tongue as it began to fracture and dissolve. She was almost completely dry after the snake jump, and would need at least five spirit stones to fully refill her dantians - a full half of what she had left - but she couldn't risk waiting on her natural regeneration, even though there was a fair amount of spiritual energy up in the air. If Wang Yonghao was in town, then she could run into him at any point by sheer coincidence, and facing all the heavenly bullshit that followed him at anything less than her best was outright suicidal.

Her divination bottle directed her all the way through the town, up towards the ridge above the valley that separated Reflection Ridge from its sister town of Glaze Ridge. The buildings ended some distance away, and her tired legs screamed at her with every step as she pushed herself to keep going, over glittering, sandy earth, until she reached the sharp edge where the ground dropped down into the valley proper.

The sight beyond the ridge took her breath away.

The valley was quite narrow, the maps marking it as just an empty stretch of rock, but the maps couldn't possibly tell the whole story. In the light of the setting sun, the whole valley shone like a strip of flame, iridescent colors shifting across the landscape, scarlets and golds mixing with emeralds and purples. There was no vegetation, no buildings, nothing but softly rolling hills and a riot of colors like she had never seen before, as if the rainbows from the sky were sealed up into the ground itself.

She spent a good ten minutes simply taking it all in, before a cloud covered up the closest sun and snapped her out of it.

The source of the shine cracked under her feet, and once she shook herself free, she crouched down to take a closer look. It was glass, permeated by spiritual energy and growing freely on the ground all across the valley, covering it like moss. What she had at first mistaken for sand were merely small, crystal-clear grains, polished to a shine by erosion.

She reached down, and broke off a shard, wincing when she saw a drop of blood well up on her finger - so sharp she barely even felt it. The ridge below her was absolutely covered in it, and from a distance, no doubt looked exactly like an enormous mirror.

Normally, spiritual energy behaved somewhat like a gas, spreading out across an environment; here, though, it rolled heavy across the ground, collecting down in the valley itself. She could feel it growing denser further down the ridge - metal, her own type, and a fair amount of it. A minor subtype then - and the true cause behind the glass.

She breathed in deeply, cycling it through her meridians and absorbing what she could. Its concentration could not compare to a spirit vein, of course, let alone Wang Yonghao's inner world - but to her, who grew up in Golden Rabbit Bay, sucked completely dry by those who lived here, where cultivators had to rely on spirit stones for even a sip of spiritual energy, this felt almost like seeing expensive wine simply spilled all over the floor.

Speaking of Wang Yonghao.

Walking alongside the ridge, she quickly checked where her target was. Her luck had gotten worse still - at a guess, she had perhaps another day or two before the heavens cut her off. At least, this close to him, she didn't need a dioptra - she could easily tell the difference between the directions, estimated from two points a hundred meters from each other. He was clearly in Glaze Ridge: the town she could see just across the field of glass, the valley dipping down between them before coming back up. She would have to find a way to get across.

Soon, she found a way down: a narrow path that snaked alongside the cliff's face, down into the valley below. She stopped in front of it, thinking it over.

At first glance, the danger of crossing over did not seem overly high - even if the glass could cut her skin, her sandals would stand up to it just fine. Of course, she might slip and fall - but as a cultivator, she could keep her balance even if the ground broke below her feet, and in the worst case, could simply activate her spiritual shield. Having to protect her entire body from the cuts would certainly be a drain on her reserves, but it could save her from disastrous injury until she could get back up.

No, it was the spiritual energy that concerned her - if it made glass grow all over the valley, she couldn't know for sure what effect it would have on her body if she simply walked into the dense clouds of it.

And of course, where there was free spiritual energy, there would be demon beasts. She did not want to encounter whatever made its home among the shards of glass, sharp enough a person could not take a step without cutting themselves open.

Her stomach rumbled, and she shook her head. After the hours-long dash on top of Curls she was starving, and dehydrated to boot. The first step was finding a good meal.

This valley would not be going anywhere.

She found a tavern, and ordered herself a dish of stir-fried rice and tea, and proceeded to shovel it into her mouth so quickly she had barely even registered the taste. The hot tea forced her to slow down, and she spent some time planning her approach to the valley while she waited for it to cool.

The sun in the sky was setting soon: with the time she spent on her meal, even if she set out right now, she was sure that it would be dark before she completely crossed over. She could light her way with the Crushing Glance of the Netherworld Eyes, but with how open the valley was, she would stand out for miles around. Even if there were no demon beasts here that hunted by sight - for surely the local cultivators would have cleared them out - she would prefer not to announce her arrival in Glaze Ridge more than was absolutely necessary.

Besides that, there was Wang Yonghao to worry about. There was a good chance he had already gotten himself involved in some local problem, and she didn't want to walk into it blind.

On the other hand, the man had probably the most experience avoiding trouble of anyone in the entire world - he was involved in hundreds of bizarre coincidences and heaven-defying incidents, and yet managed to stay completely out of the public eye. No doubt, some of it had to be his own luck, or direct heavenly influence - but now that she had a bit of experience at doing the very same thing, she could appreciate the skills involved, even if Yonghao himself might not think of them as anything special.

But first, she had to cross the valley, and that meant she needed information. She finished her meal off with a healing pill - while it was bad to overindulge, it would help her muscles recover faster - and headed off to the local post office.

As she walked, a light drizzle had started to fall from the clouds above. She could only hope the rain would not start in full until she crossed: the temperature fell as night approached, and being drenched by ice cold rain would be the height of misery.

The first thing she noticed when she entered the post office was how chilly it was, despite the roaring fireplace against one of the walls. The second was the strange, porcelain mask on the face of the postal worker manning the counter.

It was smooth, covering their entire face, and leaving only thin holes for the eyes, with a black cowl sewed into the edge and hiding the rest of the head. On their hands were thick, woolen gloves, while the sewn symbols on their robes - similarly thick and woolen - marked them out as being an apprentice clerk, not yet a full postmaster.

On their whole body, there wasn't even a single spot of uncovered skin.

This late in the day, there were no other customers in the room, and she approached the counter freely, nodding to the clerk. They nodded back at her, and rose from their seat.

"I am Junming." They bowed to her, slight warbling barely audible in their voice. "How may I help you?"

"Lan Yishan, loose cultivator. I'd like the local cultivator almanac, please," she said, leaning against the counter, "as well as hear any news you may have."

"On the road for a long time?" Junming said, moving towards the side of the room. The cold spot moved together with them.

"Indeed. I've only arrived less than an hour ago."

"Reflection Ridge is a small town." Junming nodded, then paused, and shook their head instead, bringing a stack of papers over to her, tied together with thread. "Not a lot happens here. If you want details about the duels of young master Shizhe, then he hasn't had one in weeks."

She perked her ears at that, and Junming pointed to the stack of papers.

"It's all in the almanac," they warbled, and she nodded, quickly starting to skim through.

The files of Reflection Ridge and Glaze Ridge were shared; taken together, three sects made their home here - Nine Singing Vessels, Northern Scarlet Stream, and Palace of the Glowing Cliffs.

Out of the three, Northern Scarlet Stream grabbed the most of her interest. It was merely a branch of the Flowing Scarlet River sect, yet still the largest of the three sects in this area, and it seemed that its parent sect tended to send a lot of their members here to train. This was, by itself, not too remarkable, but what truly set it apart was the profile of one Jian Shizhe, a nephew and direct disciple of one of the sect Elders.

She came across it about halfway through the stack, and whistled in amazement. Most cultivators ended up fighting a duel at some point in their lives, but the list in front of her eyes was six dozen long, stretching over several additional sheets. Ironically enough, well over three quarters were with members of his own sect, for seemingly petty insults. Most of the duels he fought, he won… Yet some seemed entirely hopeless from the start, opponents far above his skill.

At the top of the file was a portrait - a young man, wearing robes in the ancient style, with a thick leather jacket sewn to resemble a breastplate. His face looked serene, but she couldn't help but imagine a disdainful smirk in the curve of his lips.

A loose cultivator had nothing but honor, and so it was understandable to fight like hell to defend it. What kind of person did it take, to be born into one of the highest positions in a sect and still spring at every insult, sword at the ready?

"A very interesting man, I agree," she said, quickly memorizing as much of the rest of the almanac as she could, "I can't help but notice that the files for the two towns are united - I take it people travel between them a lot?"

"People, no." Junming shrugged. "The road around the valley is too long. Cultivators, yes."

"Hmm. So I could simply walk over to the other town? There are no demon beasts in the valley?"

"There are glass shamblers - but they are slow, and stay away from people," they said. "Can't catch a cultivator. If you want to cross - wait for the day. It's too dark at night."

"I have a light."

"Then, you can cross," Junming said. A moment later, as if remembering this was required, they nodded.

"Spiritual energy will not be a problem?" she asked, trying to make sure. "My lungs won't grow glass on the inside?"

"No, no." they said with a slight warble, shaking their head. "Glass grows slowly. Your soul is solid, yes? Then it's not a problem, as long as you pass through quickly. Many people work in the valley during the day, mining the glass - it is safe."

Qian Shanyi nodded. A cultivator's soul would absorb and convert spiritual energy into the type appropriate to their constitution, erasing its special properties in the process - yet many forms could affect you in the short time before this conversion was complete, or kill you through indirect means. She had to make sure.

"Thank you," she said, handing the cultivator almanac back to Junming, and waited until they grasped the papers securely with their thick woolen gloves, and put it away into a nearby cupboard.

She tapped her cheek, deliberating if she should ask, but her curiosity won out in the end. She couldn't just let this opportunity pass - despite a fair amount of effort, she had never been able to find a book that talked about the topic back in the Golden Rabbit Bay.

"If I may ask, fellow cultivator Junming," she asked slowly, "what is a Shui Gui doing around here? I thought your people preferred much warmer climates."

"I was assigned here two months ago," Junming said. A moment later, they shrugged. "It's warm enough."

"And the clothing -" she motioned to the thick robes, "- it helps?"

Junming made a strange warbling noise, and didn't respond. The silence stretched, before she shook her head. Perhaps this was a cultivation secret, and thus Junming couldn't tell her about it in the first place.

"I am sorry if I have caused offense." she said instead, wanting to correct her misstep, "It was not my intention. It's just that it's my first time meeting one of your people. Did you know you are in the history books?"

"I have studied to be the postmaster," they said, shifting in place. "Of course I have read the books."

She rubbed her eyes. Shanyi, get it together. Shui Gui emotions were hard to read, but she could still tell her words were off the mark.

Shui Gui, or water ghosts, were one of the classic success stories of the reformation, the dispelling of ancient myths and bringing people together. They were said to be the ghosts of people who drowned, lurking in the places of their death, and dragging unsuspecting victims underwater in order to steal their bodies. None of that was true, but the myths persisted, and even a sighting of a Shui Gui would cause a panic - and the calling of spirit hunters - until a determined cultivator joined one of their tribes and wrote down what he saw.

In truth, Shui Gui were not ghosts, but gray-skinned amphibious humanoids that could live both on land and underwater, preferring the latter. Unlike humans, their constitution had an overabundance of water-type spiritual energy, far beyond even cultivators with water nature deliberately seeking to expand their meridians. As a result, their bodies exuded an aura of cold, stronger the more spiritual energy was around them.

Shui Gui did not drown people in malice, except as a retaliation for humans killing Shui Gui. However, the cold water that surrounded their bodies was deceptive: an unprepared person was likely to suffer from cold shock and drown. Even if they survived the first minute, death from hypothermia was soon to follow. Accidents were common, and the superstition embellished the rest. It did not help that most Shui Gui did not speak any human languages, and even trying to learn one was strenuous due to the different shapes of their throats.

But no matter the differences, Shui Gui could cultivate, and faced all the same heavenly tribulations. What could a differently shaped throat or living underwater matter in the face of that most ancient foe? A cultivator was a cultivator, spirit, human or otherwise. After proper contact was established, and especially after the development of Fingerspeak, Shui Gui were the first to join the ranks of about half a dozen species that, nowadays, lived in peace among the humans. Many Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures could only be found at the depths of the sea, where Shui Gui could reach and harvest them easily - while the empire, with its much greater resources than any given Shui Gui tribe, helped research cultivation techniques suited for their unique constitutions.

Most treatises about the history of the reformation dedicated an entire chapter to Shui Gui, but tended to shy away from the personal details. How did they live? How did they sleep, if the water would freeze around them over a long night? Even the record that started it all felt distant, seen mostly from the outside - and of course it could only describe a single tribe. Even before Qian Shanyi became a cultivator, she always wanted to meet one of them - a living symbol of the stories she grew up on - yet Shui Gui were rare, and she only ever saw a single one in Golden Rabbit Bay.

But if they didn't want to talk… Her curiosity could take a backseat.

"I really shouldn't have asked," she shook her head, and turned to leave, "A cultivator's privacy is sacrosanct - I once again apologize if I have crossed some lines. Your speech is excellent - I am sure you would make an excellent postmaster."

"Because I am Shui Gui?" They said with an alien tone in their voice, shifting in place once again.

"Hm?" She turned back in confusion.

"You say my speech is excellent," they said, "but it isn't. I know this. So why do you say this? Because I am Shui Gui?"

"I… Suppose?" she said slowly.

"So you don't say my speech is excellent. You say it's excellent for a Shui Gui."

"It is hard for you to learn, is it not?" She frowned. "Due to the different throat shape?"

"My throat is fine," they said, "My grammar is awkward because I study little. I am not used to the words."

"Well, I still think you are making great progress," she smiled, "I doubt most people could even tell, frankly."

"But I am not here because of language." They shifted in place once again, in what she was starting to interpret as a frown, or another sign of annoyance or discomfort. "I will be postmaster. We work with books, not sounds. You say you don't mean offense, but you lie and say my speech is great. You say it's why I will make great postmaster, but that makes no sense. Why?"

"I apologize - "

"Yes yes, you are sorry, I know this. But why say at all?"

She paused, collecting her thoughts. This was a strange question to ask - she barely even thought about what she said, really.

"I didn't want to leave on a bad note," she finally said, "you seemed upset at my question, and I wanted to compliment something about you to make up for it."

"Is my throat only thing you think of?"

"It's not about your throat." She frowned. "It's about the effort you had put into your skill at the language."

"I put effort into many things," they said, bouncing in place slightly. "I cultivate, I know the post. Why always the speech?"

"I could hardly praise your cultivation from a surface glance," she shook her head, "it would be inappropriate, as I know neither your strengths nor what effort or wealth you have put in. Neither could I praise your knowledge of the postal regulations - for we have not discussed them."

"But you can praise my speech?"

"It seemed far easier to judge," she sighed, "I only sought to make you more comfortable."

"Could do many things to make me comfortable," they said, and their fingers moved quickly, forming patterns she dimly recognised. "We could fingerspeak."

"I sadly do not know it. My teachers have always said it was a waste of time," she pursed her lips, letting her disappointment bleed into her voice - though she couldn't guess if Junming would pick up on it. "Without their help, I could never find a good practice partner, nor the time for it. It is of little use in cities, I suppose, unless you are a spirit hunter - no need to keep your distance and talk to a stranger from a hundred meters away, where they could not cut you down in an instant. I thought that we should have followed in the footsteps of the empire, and made all our disciples study it - but my voice mattered little."

Oh what she wouldn't have given to know Sign back when she was stuck in a tree with Yonghao, keeping silent within the deadly forest. She cursed her sect throughout that entire night.

The thoughts of her sect had brought up memories, and she looked back on what she said here with new eyes. She intended her words as a compliment, and perhaps she couldn't have made a better one, knowing little of Junming - but from their perspective, to have all their struggles and achievements reduced down to their speech must have grated. She doubted it was the first time, either. In retrospect, she could empathize easily - how many times had she been complimented on being a jade beauty, instead of on managing to keep up in cultivation with her peers despite all odds?

"I will make sure to learn Fingerspeak now," she said, bowing deeply. "I have intended to do so regardless, but this is yet another reason. I truly should have known better - thank you for showing me my errors."

"Okay," Junming said, slowing down a bit, before starting to hop from one leg to another nervously. "Why ask in the first place? Why make trouble?"

"To cultivate is to rebel against the heavens." She raised an eyebrow. This should have been self-evident. "If I didn't make trouble, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"What do you mean? Cultivators cultivate. You don't make trouble by cultivating, that's what you already should do."

"I meant what I said." she frowned. "My teacher would have rather seen me married off to a young master of one sect or another. Thirty six years ago, I wouldn't have even been allowed to refuse."

"You are a woman?" Junming asked.

"What -", she scoffed, her cheeks flushing slightly in anger, "of course I am!"

"Always hard to tell," they said, "humans get angry when you ask, like you are right now. How do you tell?"

She pinched her nose. What a question to ask. Well, she supposed she did much the same thing, so she couldn't exactly back out now.

"Human women are generally shorter, have breasts and wider hips." she sighed, focusing on what would be visually obvious to a Shui Gui, "Their hair tends to be longer - male cultivators wear theirs to about their waistline, while women tend to let it grow out to their knees."

She ran a hand through her long hair to demonstrate.

"But some don't have any breasts," Junming said, "and you are tall, but you say you are a woman. This doesn't make sense."

"I am tall for a woman," she nodded. She had been from birth, and then deliberately added several centimeters more through cultivation, pulling her bones to grow longer with spiritual energy over many months - one of the many small perks of becoming a cultivator. "Cultivators generally tend to be taller. Nothing is universal, these are merely points you could use to make a better guess."

"Wait," Junming said, and she saw them take out a small brush, an inkwell, and a stack of papers, prepared to take notes. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"I write a book for other Shui Gui," they said, "I am only one of my tribe to work for the post office - only one I know at all. Should help them understand humans. Maybe have less trouble in future."

"Then you should note that some of this is cultural, and will change over time," she said, "I think in the eastern provinces shorter hair tends to be in vogue."

Junming nodded, and she spent some time describing the basics of fashion, for both cultivators and ordinary people. In the back of her head a voice told her she was wasting time, that she had to hurry, the vow wouldn't wait, but she silenced it. If she couldn't even help out a fellow cultivator, then what was the point of this entire journey?

But it wasn't entirely wrong either - she did have to get going, and she said as much after she explained the basics.

"I don't suppose you could answer my previous question?" she said with a smile, preparing to leave.

"I could," they said, "Why? Are you writing a book about Shui Gui?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"You make trouble without reason?" Junming shifted in place again. "Never understand this about humans."

"Is curiosity not enough?"

"Used to be, when Shui Gui made trouble, spirit hunters would come," they said, voice warbling more than before, "two generations back, a quarter of my tribe died when one of us was seen. Not anymore, but wisdom is the same. Curiosity is no good reason for trouble."

"You ask me if I am a woman, and you say curiosity is no good reason for trouble?" She laughed.

"Make a bit of trouble for less trouble later," Junming said, their voice quiet, "It's…okay. But I am a strange Shui Gui. Many others say I am wrong."

"Well, I am a strange cultivator myself." She shook her head, still smiling. "Fine. I grew up on stories of cultivators driving back the demon beasts and serving justice, bringing better lives to millions. This world-changing power of spiritual energy courses through my meridians, strengthening and refining my body, yet it also changes the world around us, does it not?"

She made a wide gesture with her right hand, pointing at the room around them.

"This very building was designed with spiritual energy in mind, made to resist even the might of a heavenly tribulation," she continued, "The days of our week are named after our dantians. Even the robes I wear - "

She flicked a spot where the skin of her shoulders could be seen beneath a loose flap of silk.

"- are cut so that spiritual energy can flow freely in and out of my body, easy to recirculate, to form techniques or a spiritual shield. This simple requirement, in turn, affects the fashion of ordinary people, who seek to imitate us. This had been the case in ancient times as well - before the advancement of stronger spiritual shield techniques, many cultivators wore plates of armor, choosing to sacrifice their spiritual energy recirculation for the sake of protection, and you can see this in their fashion as well. To know the thousands of ways in which spiritual energy has affected the world around us - there are few things that fascinate me more."

"That's all?"

"You asked for a reason," she said, "that's my reason. I would burn my life and soul for it."

It was why she wanted to become a cultivator in the first place, when she was ten - that, and slaughtering evils and serving justice.

"Okay," they said simply, and she saw them lift up their cowl, pulling the mask away and revealing the dark gray skin beneath. As soon as the clothing wasn't in the way, she felt a cloud of freezing air come towards her, and shivered.

Their face could have passed for a human, at least from a distance - but up close, the differences were unmistakable. Besides the unnatural skin color and the frost beginning to form over it, their eyes were larger, and set further away from each other, skin stretched tight over thick fat beneath. Their mouth was too wide, with thin lips, the upper lip overlapping the lower. Where a human would have hair, they had short bristles, and she could see no ears, only folds of skin on the sides of their head.

If she saw them through murky river waters, she could have definitely confused them for a corpse.

"My clothing is so that humans feel warm around me," they said, the warble in their voice clearer without the mask in the way, "it insulates them from the cold, and makes them more comfortable. Same with the mask. It's not just the cold - cultivators are fine, but mortals get a little scared, seeing the face. Seeing humans scared is…bad."

"Thank you," she smiled, "Truly, I wish you success - I would make sure to read your book, once it is published. I will write to you later - I am sure we'd still have a lot to talk about."

Junming nodded, putting their cowl back on, and she headed for the doors. When she pushed them open into the night beyond, wind and cold rain blew in her face, and she stepped back, clicking her tongue. So much for her hopes - with the time she spent here, the rain had already started to fall.

"Wait," she heard Junming warble behind her, and turned around curiously to see them take an umbrella from behind the counter, extending it towards her.

"Humans don't like rain, yes?" they said, "Take my umbrella. Send it back from Glaze Ridge."

"Oh." She blinked. "I wouldn't have expected you to own one."

"No rain since my assignment, but the postmaster said the rain season is coming," they said, "hard to get water out of clothes. Freezes. But, I am staying here until tomorrow - you can take umbrella."

"Thank you for your kindness, once again, fellow cultivator Junming, but it's not necessary." she said, bowing deeply. "I already have a cloak."

She opened her bag, and took out the leather cloak she bought together with Wang Yonghao back in Xiaohongshan. It felt like an eternity ago, but was really only a couple weeks.

"Good luck on your trip," Junming said.

"Good luck to you as well," she bowed, "I hope that the next time I visit, you will already be the postmaster."

She walked out of the postal office, and confidently headed to the edge of town, a light smile playing on her lips from the conversation she had.

Once she reached the ridge, she took the path cut into its side, and descended down onto the fields of glass. The night was pitch black - light of the stars and the moon all but completely blocked by the clouds - and she circulated the Crushing Glance of the Netherworld Eyes to make her hair glow, heading towards the lights of the other town in the distance. The rain should hide her own light, at the very least.

She set her feet down, one after another in a steady rhythm, picking her steps to avoid slipping on the wet glass or stepping in deep puddles that were starting to form all around her. The valley was quite narrow: even moving slowly, she doubted it would take her more than twenty minutes. Yet in the back of her mind, something set her on edge.

Had she forgotten something important? Her eyebrows creased in a frown as she tried to puzzle it out.

And in the clouds above her, the rain kept falling.

The inherent weakness of the Crushing Glance of the Netherworld Eyes revealed itself within minutes of her descending down into the valley: it was a technique for applying makeup, not one made to produce light, and the glowing powder it produced was swiftly washed away by the rain. At first, she simply kept recirculating the technique again and again - the drain of it was low enough, after all - but after a couple minutes, grew annoyed, and stopped to make a better lantern.

She took her knife chest off her back, covered it with her leather coat to keep the rain out, and quickly emptied her healing pill bottle directly into the chest. The chest was waterproof, after all, and should keep the pills reasonably safe.

She filled the pill bottle with the glowing powder, closed it up with the stopper, and quickly tied it to the handle of her sword. The little bottle shined bright, safe from rainwater, and now she could even send her sword flying ahead to check her path.

The rain wasn't letting up as she walked on, and she had to start hopping over small streams here and there, rainwater beginning to overflow the small depressions between the glass. Yet her path was peaceful overall, quiet cracks of glass under her sandals washed away by the rain.

As she came to the foot of a small glass hill, she heard a strange rumbling sound in the distance - different from the swooshing sounds of the rain all around her, and sent out her sword in that direction, pausing to observe. If this was one of those "glass shamblers", then she wanted to know what she was dealing with.

Within the small circle of light from her lantern, she saw a wall of water rushing towards her, easily as high as she was tall.

Her eyes widened, and she dashed up the hill, signing for the sword to return. She made it to the top just in time to see the wall of water pass where she stood mere moments ago, turning a calm stretch of glass into a roaring, burbling river of rainwater. She would have been swept away for sure, if she didn't hear it coming.

She snorted, caught her sword with its sheath, and continued on. If nature wanted to kill her, it would have to try a bit harder.

And yet, her worry only heightened.

The hill was almost entirely flat, and she soon reached the peak, and descended down the other side… only to see another stream of roaring water, far wider than what she could jump across, cutting off her path.

With agonizing slowness, the pieces started to fall into place.

One: the valley she was walking through was covered in glass.

Two: unlike earth, glass could not absorb any rainwater.

Three: water flowed downhill.

Four: this valley was narrow, but long, continuing on in both directions beyond this spot.

The pieces clicked together, and pronounced her sentence. She sent her sword out to fly around the hill, and saw what she already knew would be there: water encircled her on all sides, cutting off any path of retreat.

She was standing in the middle of a flash flood, on a shrinking island of razor sharp glass. If the water swept her away, she would be raked across the bladed ground for many miles and surely torn to shreds when her spiritual shield gave out.

And in the clouds above her, the rain kept falling.

Author Note: Inspired by Glassy Fields, a project I helped edit.
If you'd like to read two chapters ahead (soon three, next one is a chonker), or read other works I write, you can find me on patreon.
I also have a discord server, where you can discuss my fics.
Thanks for reading!​
 
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