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

I am coming to believe that Shanyi's concept of 'respect' is such that when others offer to help her solve a problem, the offer is twisted and reinterpreted as an insult. When others abstain from doing her harm, even if it would save time and trouble, it's condescension and arrogance. When others imply that a known mind-altering affect may have affected her mind, it's an insult so foundational that she will threaten to try to kill them, justifying it by the expectation that she will fail, and if they still abstain from doing her injury, it's still condescension and arrogance.
I hate butting in on reader speculation, since as the writer I inherently have priviliged access to information, but I happen to be in a very bad mood today so sure, let's throw these hands.

How did you manage to simultaneously infantilize both Shanyi and Yonghao in that conversation? It is almost impressive, in a dark humor kind of way.

Yonghao didn't "imply" that an effect "may" be "affecting" her mind. What is this language? He outright said that his luck directly overwrote Shanyi's fundamental beliefs and convictions to the extent that her own decisions do not and will not matter, and in fact compared the ease with which that happened to him stumbling around while drunk. Then he proceeded to press the issue really hard, while knowing for a fact that she could not leave the conversation because there is literally nowhere else for her to go. Talk about using "unspoken realty" that if she leaves she dies, eh? This is not "implying". This isn't "offering to help solve the problem". This is exactly insulting, and it's baffling to me how you could interpret someone saying your beliefs, convictions and decisions have exactly as much weight behind them as a drunk's decision where to put his foot as anything else.

It is furthermore baffling to me how you do not even acknowledge the fact that Yonghao was fully aware he was being a massive pillock in that conversation. If he wanted to "imply" his luck "might" affect decisionmaking, he could have put it in a dozen different ways. It was his choice to say what he did.

He did, in fact, offer to solve her problem - twice, actually. The first offer was not interpreted as an insult, it was simply rejected. That is how offers work, sometimes people don't take them. If you insist on the offer, even despite explicit statements to the contrary, that does in fact become a problem, this is how basic politeness works all over the world. The second offer - at the end of the chapter - was accepted, due to not conflicting with Shanyi's beliefs. Somehow, you managed to miss that part?

Now on the subject of threatening murder. You may note that Shanyi is, at all times, carrying several bladed weapons on her body, yet she chose to punch Yonghao with her fist - something she isn't trained in, and Yonghao knows she isn't trained in, because she shared her basic history. This isn't "threatening murder" any more than a friend slapping you across the face when you made a very crass joke. If you happened to be carrying a gun when a friend slapped you across the face, and you pulled it out and shot them in the head, then that's called "murder".

Shanyi is perfectly aware of how deadly her strikes are, and Yonghao is as well. She isn't "trying to kill" anyone, and it would be impossible to misinterpret her actions for either of them, except perhaps if both of them were blind. She can gauge the strength of Yonghao's shield compared to the speed of her sword, this isn't a guess any more than gauging wherever you can reach a top shelf is a guess. The only situations where it even comes remotely close are when she increases her sword's speed - which she warns him of well in advance, and doesn't follow through on - and when she uses a rope as a noose, when she explicitly tells the guy to make a choice. And to top it off, she is also, explicitly, not initially aiming to win the fight as much as take out her frustration and make Yonghao drop the subject, because, once again, there is literally no other exit out the conversation, she cannot walk away and Yonghao is insisting on continuing in a very rude manner despite her visible anger. She says so at multiple points along the way, both she and Yonghao are fully aware of what is happening.

And yes, under these circumstances him refusing to punch her is condescending, because he - explicitly - does not consider her a threat even within the impromptu limited conditions of the fight (e.g. no swords). And one of the reasons he doesn't consider her a threat is, of course, his luck, which he is explicitly very reliant on. The extent of what luck affects was the entire precept for the fight. If you were wrestling with a friend, and the friend refused to use their arms, then that would very much be condescension, unless you agreed to that in advance. Wherever or not your skill is actually higher is irrelevant.

There is more wrong here, but the other problems would touch on things that at least haven't been explicitly established in the text of the last two chapters, so I will leave it here.
 
I will simply state my personal take. Yonghao has gotten used to blaming everything good or bad on his luck, as well as an excuse to run away from people and to slack off. Shanyi considers this both factually and ideologically ridiculous, even before we consider his claim that she didn't set off on this whole rejoin-him quest on her own considered decision. So she feels it justified to smack some sense into him. I agree it's something he needs to get cured of. Does this justify smacking the shit out of him? Probably in RL, but this is a xianxia world, so it's completely expected.
 
[shrug]

I've got a fair amount of personal history with people whose behavior reminds me of what I'm seeing here. Even if there's a totally different motivation set because unlike the real people I know, Shanyi is absolutely in control of herself and right all the time, it still looks pretty similar to me.

Maybe that's blinding me to how Shanyi is right and put-upon and being condescended to. Or to how Yonghao is a jerk for not respecting Shanyi by obeying and deferring to her plans in the right way, as opposed to doing so in the wrong way that would itself be condescending.

Reflecting on it, I suppose I actually have a lot of low-level psychological trauma over dealing with people who, for all their good qualities, make just enough questionable choices that they're in trouble all the time and are frequently reliant on other people's cooperation just to survive and avoid disaster. Which wouldn't be a problem, except that when one is trying to assist them, their idea of "respect" and "acceptable solutions" turns into this maze they expect other people to navigate for them, often with little or no input. And they then feel attacked or abused if the maze is not navigated successfully.

That's not the fault of the author of this text, but I don't know if I can read this thing anymore. Because it's pushing a lot of those buttons and when I bring it up, I get told I'm clearly in the wrong.
 
I am coming to believe that Shanyi's concept of 'respect' is such that when others offer to help her solve a problem, the offer is twisted and reinterpreted as an insult. When others abstain from doing her harm, even if it would save time and trouble, it's condescension and arrogance. When others imply that a known mind-altering affect may have affected her mind, it's an insult so foundational that she will threaten to try to kill them, justifying it by the expectation that she will fail, and if they still abstain from doing her injury, it's still condescension and arrogance.

Hmn, this is completely different from my read.

My understanding is that Shan Yi is exploding at Wang because she mentally doesn't really find him threatening. And she values her autonomy and agency very very highly - feeling a lack of that is part of why she left her sect in the first place. So all that pent up frustration at that merchant lady who bullied her and tried to limit her agency explodes out of her when Wang outright says he doesn't think she has any agency.

I don't quite find that insulting as she does, but I can easily see why she takes it very badly.
 
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Reflecting on it, I suppose I actually have a lot of low-level psychological trauma over dealing with people who, for all their good qualities, make just enough questionable choices that they're in trouble all the time and are frequently reliant on other people's cooperation just to survive and avoid disaster. Which wouldn't be a problem, except that when one is trying to assist them, their idea of "respect" and "acceptable solutions" turns into this maze they expect other people to navigate for them, often with little or no input. And they then feel attacked or abused if the maze is not navigated successfully.

Every person in the world has a definition of respect, and has a 'maze' of what they consider acceptable behaviour. This definition is derived from their inherited culture and history, upbringing and education, inherent biology and physiology.

Basically, it's thier values and belief. Some may call this common sense.

Naturally, not everyone shares the same common sense, or more aptly put, no two people share the same common sense.

Shanyi's common sense, is that having agency, freedom of choice, is good. Not having it, is bad.

Wang's common sense, is that no one has agency.

You see the conflict of values as clear as day.


Let's speak of how wang went through Shanyi's 'maze' incorrectly. Wang offered to cultivate, because if he doesn't, the heavens will kill Shanyi. Shanyi doesn't like that, but does not care if Wang will cultivate from his free will.

Let us analogue this to prostitution. Jake doesn't want Lucy to have sex with him because Adam will kill Jake if she doesn't. In the legal system, we call that coercion and rape.

However, he will not care if she wants to have sex with him, because she wants to. Quite obviously, this isn't rape. We can debate if her brain chemistry makes her feel attracted to Jake all we want. But it is generally accepted that sex derived from attraction is not rape.

This is what it means to have values. Sometimes some actions' 'goodness' or 'badness' depend on the context.


If we take this analogy to the character conflict of Shanyi and Wang, we see what offended Shanyi.

Shanyi hates rape. Wang claims that everyone is raped all the time, because of his luck.

In my opinion, Wang is a manchild, who's brain's development stopped when he was five. He doesn't acknowledge his actions have consequences, no, even further, he doesn't acknowledge his actions are his at all. In his view, he is a marionette, in a fever dream, where everything that happens doesn't affect him at all.

He gave up.

Shanyi seems to share my opinion. She didn't like that Wang basically doesn't see her as a human that can make choices. She doesn't like that Wang sees himself as some bizzare spectator that just observes the film that is life. His actions? Part of the film, of course. In his worldview, in cinemas, the actors on screen react to his speech. Why wouldn't they? That always happened in his life. Doesn't change that it is a movie.

He is delusional. He is a manchild. He is an imbecile.

He is my least favorite character in the fic.
The writing is excellent, the prose is phenomenal, the dialogue flows off the tongue. My hate towards Wang is also immense.

I want to beat the shit out of him.
I also feels validated, because it seems Shanyi shares my opinion here too!

Naturally, the fact that I feel this way, or feel at all, is credit to the author.
 
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Hmn, this is completely different from my read.

My understanding is that Shan Yi is exploding at Wang because she mentally doesn't really find him threatening. And she values her autonomy and agency very very highly - feeling a lack of that is part of why she left her sect in the first place. So all that pent up frustration at that merchant lady who bullied her and tried to limit her agency explodes out of her when Wang outright says he doesn't think she has any agency.
See, putting it in those terms makes it feel plausible to me, it just kind of still pushes those aforesaid buttons.

I have my own historical reasons why I sometimes sympathize with "the person who gets attacked because he is trusted enough to be seen as nonthreatening" and "the person who gets attacked because someone else has pent-up aggression against a third party he's never even met."

Let's speak of how wang went through Shanyi's 'maze' incorrectly. Wang offered to cultivate, because if he doesn't, the heavens will kill Shanyi. Shanyi doesn't like that, but does not care if Wang will cultivate from his free will.

Let us analogue this to prostitution. Jake doesn't want Lucy to have sex with him because Adam will kill Jake if she doesn't. In the legal system, we call that coercion and rape.

However, he will not care if she wants to have sex with him, because she wants to. Quite obviously, this isn't rape. We can debate if her brain chemistry makes her feel attracted to Jake all we want. But it is generally accepted that sex derived from attraction is not rape.

This is what it means to have values. Sometimes some actions' 'goodness' or 'badness' depend on the context.
The thing that makes this a little odd is that there is a general consensus trope in xianxia that furthering one's cultivation is a good thing, to the point where taking extreme measures to do so is widely accepted. If you want to compare cultivation to sex, then the characters are living in a remarkably sex-positive society.

Previously, Wang's lack of intense cultivation was treated as a deficiency on his part within the narrative, even if one that Shanyi doesn't believe she has any right to 'correct.' He is criticized within the story for his lack of ambition and drive, for failure to make something of himself with all the resources that luck keeps dropping in his lap. And that was a criticism I'd accepted.

To me, it is a bit of an odd tone shift to see this then flipped around, such that if he actually does make something of himself, even under pressure, it's a violation. Something not to be stood for. Because in a sense, he is volunteering to do what the narrative already told us he "should have" done but was too irresolute, too lazy, too weak to do.

Shanyi hates rape. Wang claims that everyone is raped all the time, because of his luck.

In my opinion, Wang is a manchild, who's brain's development stopped when he was five. He doesn't acknowledge his actions have consequences, no, even further, he doesn't acknowledge his actions are his at all. In his view, he is a marionette, in a fever dream, where everything that happens doesn't affect him at all.

He gave up.
Funny how having a constant reality-warping force make bizarre coincidences and homicidal madmen jump out at you every time you turn around can warp your sense of reality.

I have to wonder, how many times did Wang decide to try and take control of his own situation, only to have his efforts smashed apart like a sand castle, before he became this hapless tumbleweed of a man? How many kicking from forces beyond a man's power to confront does it take to really convince him to internalize that he's being kicked around by forces beyond his power to confront?

You can say "no number should ever be enough, damn it," and maybe that's true.

But I find it hard to hate someone over that.
 
If you want to compare cultivation to sex, then the characters are living in a remarkably sex-positive society.
Can you drop the suggestion that rape might not be considered rape in a sex positive society?
In a sex positive society there might be fewer reasons to say no, however no is still no. And the important parts of the comparision was the coercion. Sex positivity doesn't change anything about the analogy Roey used.
 
The thing that makes this a little odd is that there is a general consensus trope in xianxia that furthering one's cultivation is a good thing, to the point where taking extreme measures to do so is widely accepted.

Where? this assertion is doing the author's world building a disservice. Almost every person that we see talk with Shanyi, is more or less content with their lot. Shanyi is the outlier. Do not confuse tropes with actual world building. If the author wanted to write a cookie cutter story, he would have done so. This is clearly not the case here, though.

In any case, remember when I said that no two people have the same common sense? The same values and beliefs? This here is a prime opportunity to use that.

It would be a disservice to everyone involved, to judge Wang based on Shanyi's beliefs, on the assumption that she represents the general consensus.

The only one that has right to judge another is the Buddha. Humans do not possess this right.

Previously, Wang's lack of intense cultivation was treated as a deficiency on his part within the narrative, even if one that Shanyi doesn't believe she has any right to 'correct.' He is criticized within the story for his lack of ambition and drive, for failure to make something of himself with all the resources that luck keeps dropping in his lap. And that was a criticism I'd accepted.

Where? I may be incorrect, but I do not recall anywhere that the narrative treats his lack of cultivation as a deficiency.
Where did you get this from? Could you quote exact places where you got that from?

Also, do not confuse the Narrative PoV to Shanyi's PoV.

To me, it is a bit of an odd tone shift to see this then flipped around, such that if he actually does make something of himself, even under pressure, it's a violation. Something not to be stood for. Because in a sense, he is volunteering to do what the narrative already told us he "should have" done but was too irresolute, too lazy, too weak to do.

It's clear to me now, that you are puting yourself in the shoes of Wang. Digressing a bit, let's talk about your argument.

There are a couple of assumptions in your argument, that I shall expand on here.

1 - Cultivation means high status, or something to pursue. So cultivation is good, and people who don't cultivate are bad.
2 - Cultivation is bad, because Wang is Bad since he decided to cultivate but not correctly. Fuck Wang.
3 - The 'narrative' wants Wang to cultivate. So a Cultivating Wang is good.

Hmmm, I see we have a contradiction. Which assumption is correct, though?

None of them.

I don't have to tell you, because you seem to be perfectly aware of your feelings yourself.

I'll tell you anyway.

Truth is in the eye of the beholder.
If someone believes that the sky is red, and believes that everyone else believes that the sky is red, then no matter what color the sky truly is, whatever 'truly is' means here, then as far as that someone is concerned, the sky might as well be red.

In other words, people can only comprehend the world, as much as they experienced or studied in the past.

Your past defines your pallette of colours, with which you use to paint the present.

I sense a lot of hurt in the argument you posted. That is fine, and your feelings a perfectly valid. Whatever you dealt with in the past, it must have been hard to go through.

I have to wonder, how many times did Wang decide to try and take control of his own situation, only to have his efforts smashed apart like a sand castle, before he became this hapless tumbleweed of a man? How many kicking from forces beyond a man's power to confront does it take to really convince him to internalize that he's being kicked around by forces beyond his power to confront?

You can say "no number should ever be enough, damn it," and maybe that's true.

But I find it hard to hate someone over that.

True. My view was correct. This view is also correct. We both understand that he went through a lot. We can have whatever opinion we want.
 
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Where? I may be incorrect, but I do not recall anywhere that the narrative treats his lack of cultivation as a deficiency.
Where did you get this from? Could you quote exact places where you got that from?

Also, do not confuse the Narrative PoV to Shanyi's PoV.
You see, so very much of the story is written from Shanyi's point of view. Only a very few scenes are not. As such, there are very few things in the story that is being told that would in any way act to contradict Shanyi's point of view. Most of the time, I would say that Shanyi's perspective is the perspective of the narrative, that is to say "the story." There is a difference between "narrative" and "narrator."

Except, that is, when other characters directly argue with her, or when she expects something and turns out to be wrong, or when she noticeably contradicts herself.

We see Shanyi commenting with variations on disbelief about Yang's lack of ambition to cultivate faster starting as early as Chapter 11. No one really contradicts her, except for Yang arguing that if he becomes more powerful his luck will result in bigger disasters and the collateral damage will get worse. Which, well, for Shanyi to be right in the rest of her views about Yang, that kind of has to be a bad argument.

It's clear to me now, that you are puting yourself in the shoes of Wang. Digressing a bit, let's talk about your argument.

There are a couple of assumptions in your argument, that I shall expand on here.

1 - Cultivation means high status, or something to pursue. So cultivation is good, and people who don't cultivate are bad.
2 - Cultivation is bad, because Wang is Bad since he decided to cultivate but not correctly. Fuck Wang.
3 - The 'narrative' wants Wang to cultivate. So a Cultivating Wang is good.

Hmmm, I see we have a contradiction. Which assumption is correct, though?
(2) is not an assumption I am making and I don't understand its internal logic. It doesn't make any sense to me at all.

But the story does tend to imply that progressing in one's cultivation is in and of itself good, that being bottlenecked or blocked in cultivation is undesirable (if perhaps unavoidable and inevitable for most), and more recently we see that when Shanyi starts "winning" her argument with Wang, she's convincing him to embrace cultivation as a thing that can be useful. And Shanyi's entire belief system strongly implies an ambition to become stronger so as to confront heaven, something hard to do in the early qi-collecting stages of cultivation.

And that's fine. The general pattern of "a rare talent who doesn't try seriously to become stronger is wasting his talent" is fine. It's very common in xianxia as a whole, as I understand it, where cultivators who are relevant enough to be significant named characters usually do have an ambition to continue cultivating as far and as high as they can.

But given that we're in a world where Wang saying "I want to cultivate now" would normally be an entirely normal and welcome thing for him to do, something he's been seen as odd or inferior for not doing... Well, it's harder to build an argument centering on the idea that it's very, very wrong for Wang to decide to do this for the wrong reason, that it's a profoundly significant violation.
 
In universe, the Heaven's came down and killed a kingdom. Everyone died, turned to stone. Presumably, they were innocent.

That says, the Heaven's can just kill you. They don't need a tribulation, you can just die. They don't kill you because you aren't worth the effort (limited energy, ect)

I think the rational response is
1. The Heaven's are evil
2. I shouldn't piss them off

It seems to me, the most effective way to defeat the Heaven's is to only defy them when you are strong, and obey when you are weak (very xainxia for everyone other then the MC)

Clearly the MC is very irrational and prideful. Which is fine. It's weird to me to have this manipulative character who is generally level headed blow up every time the Heaven's are mentioned.

I assume that the Heaven's wronged her personally in the past (sibling killed in a Tribulation, maybe?). Otherwise, it doesn't make sense to me why she is so emotional about it, to the point of not being able to calmly consider anything with Heaven's in it, even when she can do so with other things.

My biggest irritant, I guess, is that the MC makes a lot of mistakes, while still being presented as the correct viewpoint (due to narrative limitations, I guess). But they don't seem to learn or grow from their mistakes very much. Of course, they grow somewhat, but it feels like growth is slow in this story
 
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Chapter 44: Paint Your Will With Softest Blades
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 I post memes I make about FSE, and occasionally discuss some plans and worldbuilding details. Thanks for reading! :)

Qian Shanyi hissed in pain as she pushed her knocked-out tooth back into its socket. It had taken them ten minutes to find the damn thing, and by then, the gum had already swelled with blood. She secured it in place with her spiritual energy, and then bit down on a small bit of cloth wrapped into a roll, applying more pressure.

With any luck, it would heal back up by the time she finished making breakfast - or at least enough that it wouldn't fall out when she went to sleep.

The mushrooms still had a good forty minutes left to go in the chiclotron, and so she headed to the baths. She dearly needed one.

The baths - or rather, bath, for there was just one - was merely a circular basin in the ground, lined with the same stones as the chiclotron. The seams between them were sealed with clay, and she glanced over it approvingly - Yonghao had patched all the holes and cracks nicely.

Air shimmered faintly above the stones, heated up by the fire tunnel of the chiclotron that passed right below the bath. A tall bucket was attached to the wooden walls just above head height, full of water from a Blue Tear Stone, and she marveled for a moment how Wang Yonghao managed to put it together without seams or nails, before pulling open a small shutter in the side and letting a stream of water pour out. As soon as it hit the stones, it hissed, turning to steam, and the bath slowly started to fill up.

The bucket itself was nothing revolutionary, merely well-constructed: most water treasures that produced water had a certain, typically low, amount of pressure they could overcome, and so putting them into a bucket was the standard method of preventing overflow. The higher the level of water in the bucket, the higher the pressure on the treasure, until the two reached equilibrium; of course, if you were to empty the bucket, it would immediately begin to fill again.

She was left waiting for the bath to fill with little else to do - trying to plan her approach to the tribulation on an exhausted mind was a lost cause. Ordinarily, she would have chatted up Wang Yonghao about what happened to him while they were split up - but neither of them could talk, forced to press the dislodged teeth back in place as their bodies slowly reconstructed the severed nerves and blood vessels.

She came back out of the bath, and leaned against its wall - or perhaps a fence, depending on how one looked at it - sliding down to the grass. Wang Yonghao was sitting nearby, curiously looking through the knives in her open knife chest. Seeing her come back, he looked up, and gave her a thumbs up.

What does that mean?

She groaned, and raised her hand, going back to the same trick she used when they were stuck together on a tree - drawing characters on her hand.

They wrote for a bit, and she told him about her adventures with Wu Lanhua in the broadest details. Interpreting the hand drawings was so much easier in the ever-bright daylight of the world fragment, yet it still took excruciatingly long to say anything of substance.

<I don't suppose you can fingerspeak?> she signed, shaking her tired wrist. Wang Yonghao gave her a sympathetic look.

<Oh yeah!> Wang Yonghao signed with a smile, and his hands blurred into the dimly familiar signs of the Imperial Sign Language. <Do you? You started signing in your weird way and so I figured...>

<I don't.> she signed, accompanying it with a groan, <A thousand curses upon my sect.>

Still, this was something to celebrate. If he could teach her, they could speak far quicker - she very much doubted this was the last time they would be forced to stay quiet.

Yet this revelation still nagged at her. <Where did you learn it? I didn't figure you were a scholarly type, despite how you dress.>

He froze for a moment, and she decided to encourage him. <Learning a language takes many years. It's a good achievement, something to be proud of.>

With a sinking feeling in her heart, she saw Wang Yonghao's smile drop further.

<Had a lucky encounter and got hit with a soul shard which fused to my soul,> he signed, looking away for a moment. <I think it was from the inventor of the language? Now I can speak it.>

She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Soul shards were nothing to mess with - she would have said he was lucky to have endured the event so well, if not for the irony.

<You know, I really should have expected this,> she signed, opening her eyes again, <yet somehow, I am still surprised.>

<Yeah, tell me about it.>

She shifted around, laying down on the grass next to the wooden wall, and kicked off her sandals, staring up into the sky, trying to process what he said. Finding treasures or manuals was one thing, but to simply have an entire language grafted onto your mind… No wonder he was so touchy about his soul.

<That must suck.>

<Knowing fingerspeak?> he signed, raising his eyebrows. She had to angle her head to look at his hands, but didn't rise up from the grass. It felt too nice to simply lay down and relax.

She shook her head. <Not being able to truly call skills your own.>

<Yeah.> He looked away, and she waited for him to look back at her to continue speaking. When several minutes passed and he still didn't, she waved her arm in the air to grab his attention.

She couldn't wait to go back to speaking with her damned mouth.

<Would you mind teaching me?> she signed. Even besides her own interest, she doubted this was the last time they would be forced to speak quietly. <You may not have gotten it on your own, but if you could teach it, that would still be your own achievement, right? Something you could do without relying on luck?>

That one phrase took her a good two minutes to sign out. He smiled at that, some mirth returning to his eyes.

<Really? The great Qian Shanyi is truly asking for some pointers?> he signed, hopping up off the grass and making a mocking bow. <This here elder would graciously instruct you, junior.>

She rolled her eyes at him.

<Don't push it.>

Over the next twenty minutes he taught her the very basics of the Imperial Sign, mixing it with her own method of signing to explain the meaning of individual gestures. The difference between the two was like comparing the sky and the earth: where drawing a glyph on the palm of the hand - especially in a way that could be understood - took at least several seconds, fingerspeaking was both faster and clearer, distinct gestures blending together smoothly and efficiently until "speech" was as fast as when saying words out loud. They've started with the basics of movement - go there, come back, left, right, grab that thing, and so on - figuring that would be the most immediately useful thing to communicate if they were pressed for time.

Her tired mind was straining itself, trying to keep the unfamiliar gestures in mind. She wasn't sure how much of it she would remember tomorrow, but at least it passed the time.

Once her bath was full, she secluded herself, stripped off her robes, and sunk into the hot waters, feeling her muscles relax and her skin tingle from the temperature. The slope of the bath was gentle enough that she could easily lie down completely, water coming up to her neck.

When she went to the baths in Xiaohongshan, she did not know what to do with her life, the stress poisoning the experience. Now, even despite the threat of the tribulation hanging over her head, she felt none of it. The sheer contrast made her chuckle sadly.

Perhaps she really was insane. Would a sane person truly prefer mortal danger to a quiet life as a waitress?

As she laid there, her thoughts started to slow, despite her best efforts.

I… I still have to cook… Should just quickly wash and go… Have plans to make…

She hadn't noticed when her eyelids drooped closed.

Just…just a minute…

Sudden pain brought Qian Shanyi back out of her dreams, and she thrashed around in the bath in a flash of panic, coughing water out of her lungs. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

She glanced around in momentary confusion at the wooden walls around her, until her memories floated back up to the surface. She was in Wang Yonghao's world fragment, taking a bath. Nobody was attacking her. The skies haven't fallen.

I must have drifted off and my head slipped below the surface.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, she stood up and stretched. She couldn't help but chuckle at herself.

Would have been awfully embarrassing to survive a flash flood and then drown myself by sheer accident.

She tested her tooth with her tongue - the gauze had already fallen out of her mouth while she was coughing. It still shifted a bit, but wasn't at risk of falling out anymore. Her skin was all wrinkled - how long did she sleep for?

The water was still just as warm as before, the chiclotron working to pump heat into it, though clouded by blood and grime.

Picking up a piece of soap from a conveniently placed shelf, she quickly lathered up her long hair and body, and then washed herself off in the stream of fresh water from the bucket above her head. Opening up a wooden sluice at one end of the elongated bath, she let all the water drain down a channel and into a larger basin, situated above a neighboring water tunnel of the chiclotron. There, the dirty water would freeze, and be easy to toss out of the world fragment when they finally exited it, days later.

She smiled. Yonghao made it, but it was her design, and it felt pleasant to see it working properly.

She didn't have a towel, and so simply pulled a fresh set of robes over her wet skin - these ones too short for her, only reaching down to her knees, black and shimmering like onyx. She wasn't too bothered by it - in the end, cultivator robes and bathrobes shared quite a few similarities, and the ever-shining sunlight was pleasantly warm. It was a good thing Yonghao had so many robes - the set she came in was still wet from the rain, and covered in a fair bit of her blood besides, while the brilliant white ones she put on when she entered the world fragment were now lightly tinted green from the freshly torn grass.

When she finally left the bath, she saw Wang Yonghao sitting in a lotus pose in the middle of the world fragment, eyes closed. All of his spiritual pores were shut tight, his face frowned in deep concentration, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead. She walked up to him, and stared at him in confusion for a while.

He didn't seem to be doing anything - just sitting there, but by the look on his face, he might as well have been trying to lift a mountain.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Cultivating," he said, opening one eye to look at her, "circulating my spiritual energy to clear my meridians. Can't you see how hard it is?"

She glanced at him from top to bottom. "Usually people keep their spiritual pores open when they do that." she snorted, understanding finally dawning on her. "The point in circulating spiritual energy is to remove impurities from your body. If you keep your pores closed and only circulate what you have inside of you, you'd just be…moving them around, I guess, achieving nothing."

"Really?" he said, a corner of his lips twitching upwards at the shared joke, "I had no idea, Elder. I'll make sure to try your way too… Perhaps next month."

"That was impressive," she whistled, "I've never heard anyone say 'Elder' with that much dismissive disdain. I don't think I could manage that. I haven't even heard anyone call me 'whore' quite like that in ages."

"I've had a lot of experience," he said, closing his eyes.

She stretched her hands, yawning widely. "I bet," she said, "How long was I out?"

"A couple hours, I think."

She groaned. "You should have woken me up."

"Seemed like you needed sleep."

She grimaced, rubbing her face. "I did, but now the rice will be too sticky and the vegetables I fried will have gone soggy. So much for making an outstanding dish."

"Shanyi, you know half the time I just have nothing to eat at all, right?" He arched an eyebrow in her direction, keeping his eyes closed. "I wouldn't know the first thing about the difference between an 'outstanding' dish and a normal one. I put the rice and vegetables in a water node, so it's not like they would have gone bad."

"It's the principle of the thing," she grumbled, "Disappoints me more than it probably should - I wonder when I managed to develop pride as an immortal chef. Well, let's go figure something out."

She bent down, grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him up on his feet. "What -" he said, finally opening his eyes and reluctantly following along, as she headed towards the node with the mushrooms. "but I can't -"

"You can and you will," she said casually, "you'll teach me fingerspeak, and I'll teach you to cook. It'd be a nice, simple exchange of pointers between two cultivators, without any of this luck nonsense."

His resistance went away almost immediately, and she smirked.

"Also," she continued, "we both have to cultivate, and I don't want to bicker…much… about which one of us has a better plan to deal with the tribulation. This means we'll switch up which one of us cooks, so that neither wastes too much time. Your turn is first."

Within moments, she had all the ingredients gathered up in their kitchen area, and started arranging them on the one table they had - mildly overcooked rice, fried vegetables, and uncooked mushrooms, now tinged with metal spiritual energy, but one that wasn't bound to the material itself. Wang Yonghao stood a distance away, looking at her curiously, as she gestured towards the table.

"So, there's a lot I could teach you -" She yawned again, cowering her mouth with her hand. The nap in the bath helped, but she still felt exhausted. "- knife handling, how to prepare various types of ingredients, heat control, yadda yadda. All of it would be a waste of time, so I am not going to do that. You'll either pick it up yourself or read it from a manual I can give you - and if you screw up, just do it again and learn from your mistakes. Instead, I am going to teach you about the Dao at the heart of it all, one that applies to everything from making dumplings to sewing up your robes."

"Dao for making dumplings?" He frowned, crossing his arms and looking at her uncertainly. "That sounds a little… Unserious."

She gave him a flat look. "Are you insulting my mistress Tang Qunying?"

"Maybe? I thought you hated your sect masters?"

She shook her head. "She's not from my sect."

"So how did you meet her then?"

"Didn't." Qian Shani shrugged easily. "Her manual's very good though, so until she finds me and makes me stop, I'll call her my mistress - if she's even still alive to do so."

"Must be quite the person, for you to declare someone your mistress without even meeting them," he grumbled, but came closer to the table, looking it over.

"Yeah, if we had met face to face, I'd have tried to drag her into my bed to fuck her brains out," she said absently, focusing on making sure everything they needed was available, and heard Wang Yonghao sputter next to her. She turned back to him, and saw him blushing profusely. "What?"

"How could you just say that?!" he said, blushing harder, and bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yonghao, we've been over this. I can do and say whatever the fuck I want - that's what it means to be a cultivator."

"That's not what I - gah! Don't you have any shame?"

She laughed at that. "Is shame going to help me ascend to the Heavens like a phoenix? No? Then why would I keep it around?"

"So you don't embarrass yourself or people around you with how graphic you are," he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You realize this will just make me do it more, right?" She arched an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it. "I could be a lot more graphic if you'd like. Did you know that cultivator senses are enhanced all over their bodies?"

"No! No, absolutely not!" He groaned again. "Fine, whatever, you mentioned a Dao of Dumplings? Can we move on from this?"

She laughed again. This was fun, but he was right - and she didn't want to bully the poor prude too much.

"Alright, alright," she conceded, "I'll spare you this time."

His intimidating glare was ruined entirely by the furious blushing of his cheeks. Honestly, it was like he didn't know he could pinch blood vessels shut with spiritual energy. And he was going to tell her about embarrassment?

"So what is it?" He sighed, trying to bring himself back into some semblance of order as he occupied his hands with adjusting his robes. "Some kind of cultivation technique?"

"Better," she said, knocking on her head for emphasis, "doesn't even rely on spiritual energy. It's all in here."

She gestured towards the ingredients.

"Reading between the lines of what Tang Qunying wrote, the core question at the heart of all immortal cooking is this: what can you make with all this stuff?" she said, adopting her best lecturing tone.

She let the question hang. Silence stretched. Wang Yonghao looked between her and the ingredients, waiting for her to say something, but she stayed quiet.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "So…what can we do?"

"Why are you asking me like I know?" She gave him an exaggerated shrug. "I am looking at the same ingredients as you are."

"Well, you are the chef here."

"What does 'chef' mean?" She walked around the table and leaned on it from the other side, like a general might lean over a map of a battlefield. "I've learned some basic cooking from my mother when I was very young, and have been reading Tang Qunying's manual for several weeks now. I have about two weeks of experience cooking for customers. Does that make me a chef? Objectively, your skill is not far from mine. Does that make me an authority on cooking?"

She grabbed one of her knives from her knife chest, and pointed at Wang Yonghao with the blade. She continued, "No. If you are the one holding the knife, then there is no authority above you in the kitchen."

She tossed the knife to him, and he caught it easily. Not like he'd need it - everything had already been cut up - but the symbolism mattered.

"You have the knife now," she said, her strict tone ruined entirely by an unwelcome yawn. "So what do you want to do?"

He frowned, staring at her uncertainly, playing with the knife in his hands. "So what, I can't even ask you questions?"

"You can ask." She inclined her head agreeably. "Just because you have the final say doesn't mean you can't receive information."

"Can't you just tell me what to do?"

"No, actually." She shook her head. "That is the point. I could teach you all sorts of skills, but if you keep looking over your shoulder for my approval or disapproval, you'll never get anywhere. The first step is deciding that your will is paramount, even if you will crash and burn a hundred times on your way to greatness."

"Shanyi, we are talking about cooking rice, not overthrowing empires."

"Indeed. You can half-ass the latter."

He pursed his lips, leaning on the table to match her pose. "Look, this doesn't really make sense. I don't really know how to cook. What can I decide about the dish?"

"Whatever you think of." She shrugged. "If I thought you couldn't do this, I wouldn't have bothered giving you one of my trophy knives. You are smart enough to manage, if you could only bring out some confidence."

"First thing you said to me when you met me was to call me arrogant," he narrowed his eyes at her, "and you say I lack confidence?"

She rolled her eyes at him. Sword duel, that he could win - but a fight of pure sophistry? No chance. "Arrogance is not the same thing as confidence - indeed, the two are often opposites. Arrogance is a perfect cover for insecurity, while confidence tends to grow into a quiet sense of self-assurance. For example," she tossed her long over her shoulder, "I have never been arrogant in my entire life."

Judging by Wang Yonghao's expression, the humor was lost on him.

"Oh yeah? And what am I supposed to be confident about?"

"Your skills."

"What skills?" He scoffed. "Ones granted to me by luck?"

"If I meant your luck, I would have said luck. I meant your skills. You are a decent teacher - I've had plenty, and your instruction on fingerspeaking was better than most." She motioned to the bath. "You are a great woodworker. The Heavens have granted you neither skill…I hope… and knowing how to explain the language is entirely separate from knowing how to speak it."

"It's nothing special," he muttered.

"It's great work." She rolled her eyes, "Don't make me force you to admit it again. This is exactly what I mean by you not being confident. You put yourself down so much it blinds you to reality."

"So what, am I supposed to just 'become confident' on the spot?"

"Ideally, yes." She nodded readily, looking at him expectantly. "Could you?"

He scowled at her this time. "No!"

"A shame. In that case, simply focus on my opinion of you - and seeing as how my opinions are rarely wrong, it should be almost as good."

He looked up to the sky with pleading eyes.

Fool. Did he not listen to her when she said the Heavens were not listening to them here? He'd get no help dealing with her games from the skies.

"Fine," he said, pulling the pot of rice closer to himself. "But I need something to start with. What were you going to make before our fight?"

"I was thinking of making a stir fry."

He shrugged. "Still sounds like a good option, so let's do that."

"But is it really?" She inclined her head to the side.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I was planning to use rice more or less just as it came out of the pot." She made a casual gesture towards it. "Now, the rice is cold and sticky. A lot of moisture would have left it by now, too. This would not benefit the dish."

He pursed his lips, and she could finally see him starting to think about what was on the table. "Are there ways to remove the stickiness? Wash the rice, or something?"

"There are." She nodded. "The stickiness is due to a film of starch on the surface of rice grains - washing the rice would likely remove it, yes. But…It is best to lean into the strengths of ingredients, rather than fight them."

"So what, you want to make… something that could benefit from the stickiness?"

"I want nothing, I am but a humble, neutral observer." She made the same exaggerated shrug again. "Perhaps there is nothing at all you could do here - but it is worth at least considering. So what would such a dish be?"

She was actually deliberately avoiding thinking about that obvious question - letting Wang Yonghao work through the problem on his own, without injecting her own perspective. It would be invaluable in the long term, even if this one dish went up in flames.

"Not a stir fry, clearly," he grumbled.

"Clearly. Is stir fry the only rice dish you know?"

He easily named a dozen others. Some of them required ingredients they did not have, others would not have benefited from the stickiness in the slightest, but he was at least thinking, spinning the problem in his head. She kept poking him here and there, but once he was past the initial hurdles, he seemed to be doing just fine.

"It's…I don't know," he said, walking back and forth in front of the table, "I keep coming back to this idea - if the rice is sticky, we could roll it into balls, right? And then… put the other ingredients on the inside, like a dumpling. But that's stupid."

"How is it stupid?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "It is a coherent idea. Rice can be rolled into balls."

"I mean, I've never seen it done."

"I haven't seen it either," she shook her head. Honestly, as if what other people did even mattered - but she didn't want to say it and toss Yonghao back into his funk. They were making good progress, she thought. "But neither of us has been to every corner of the world, and that is not the same as stupid. I think it is worth trying."

"But would this even work?" he asked uncertainly. "I mean - what if the rice balls we make fall apart, or the ingredients inside seep through?"

She shrugged. "Only one way to find out, chef Wang Yonghao. Heat up the pan, and let's experiment."

Qian Shanyi woke up feeling so full of energy she was ready to burst.

She crawled out of the rosevine bunker, stretching her limbs. It was so cramped that she couldn't fully stretch out her legs while she slept, but Wang Yonghao's world fragment was so disgustingly auspicious after their work on the chiclotron that she still felt like she had just gotten out of a massage parlor.

She was sure that this too would fade, and soon enough, her back would hurt again… But not today.

Wang Yonghao was still up and about, "cultivating" as he did. They've agreed to sleep in shifts, since they only had the one bunker where they could doze off safely without being harassed by rosevines, and he wouldn't be going to bed for a good few hours. She briefly considered going over to talk to him - after her sleep a good plan for the tribulation started to slowly come together in her head, taking into account all the new information on the table - but no. She waited for long enough.

It was time to cultivate.

With a grin, she pulled out her sword, and started going through the movements of Three Obediences Four Virtues. High quality spiritual energy flowed into her body in rivers, not piddly streams like back on Wu Lanhua's yacht, circulating through all her meridians, spinning together into a beautiful tapestry only visible to her inner sight, before leaving her body through different pores, bringing the impurities alongside it. Even the sword felt lighter in her hands, making the air sing as it was sliced apart.

Her breathing measured, she soon fell into a rhythm, and from the rhythm, into a meditation, her thoughts dissolving away into nothingness as all that was left in her world was the sword in her hands, the muscles dancing under her skin, and the grass trampled under her feet.

This was what she was missing.

This was true cultivation. Not counting out spirit stones and worrying wherever she had enough to last a month. Simply… freedom, freedom to build herself into who she wanted to be.

Tribulation? Please. With her knives, she could slice the very fabric of the world apart. With her needle, she could sew it back together.

Before, she was limited by her broken leg. But by now, it had healed completely.

Before, she was limited by hunger. But she had been eating well these past few weeks.

Before, she was only beginning to synchronize with her new spiritual energy recirculation law, pulled apart in two different directions. But by now, this process had concluded.

She kept going for eight hours straight, until her meridians burned like magma, until even her bones ached and her muscles spasmed erratically.

She only stopped when she collapsed down on the ground, her chest heaving with exertion, and yet her lips were split in the largest grin of her life. Oh how she missed this!

Turning her senses inwards, she giggled, and soon her giggles turned into full blown laughter, cackling about the foolishness of the Heavens. The meridians in her body were so much clearer now. Once she had entered the middle refinement stage, it had taken her a bit over a year each to unlock her fourth and fifth dantians. In Wang Yonghao's world fragment, she had unlocked her sixth in less than a month. And she hadn't just unlocked it - it was already halfway to being cleared.

She could practically taste how close she was to the seventh dantian unlocking too, ready to propel her into the high refinement stage.

How long did it take even the best prodigies, with the support of the largest sects, to break out of the middle refinement stage? Two years at least, it must be.

Of course, even if she cleared her dantians, it wouldn't mean that she would actually enter the high refinement stage - her body couldn't keep up. She already felt it lagging behind, muscles struggling to contain the power of spiritual energy.

There was a reason why the aforementioned prodigies did not dump a small mountain of money into clearing their meridians faster - there wasn't much point. You need a strong body to advance into the building foundation stage, and so you might as well proceed at the pace dictated by your body.

But for now, she could cackle. For once, she had the resources. She was the one advancing at twice the speed with half the effort. And even if she couldn't advance into the building foundation stage yet… Simply scaling the mountain of cultivation felt exhilarating.

She laid there on the grass for a long while, simply enjoying the feeling of ever-burning sunlight on her skin, before, with great difficulty, she lifted herself up, and slowly stumbled over to the kitchen. Wang Yonghao was already asleep, so she'd be cooking on her own.

After all, food was what every cultivator burned to cultivate - and she needed a lot of fuel to ascend into the Heavens like a vengeful phoenix.
 
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"The first step is deciding that your will is paramount, even if you will crash and burn a hundred times on your way to greatness."
I've tried to find clever ways to say this, but they're all overcomplicated and vapid, so... Themes!

"So what, you want to make… something that could benefit from the stickiness?"

"I want nothing, I am but a humble, neutral observer." She made the same exaggerated shrug again.
I like this style of rhetoric/education. Not great for high-stakes situations, or when the student is genuinely clueless, but it fits this situation well.
 
<I don't.> she signed, accompanying it with a groan, <A thousand curses upon my sect.>

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqaCEPwWGtc
I wonder when I managed to develop pride as an immortal chef. Well, let's go figure something out."
Incredible, she didn't just gaslight gatekeep girlboss the judges into thinking she was a real chef, she gaslit herself.
The dao of sophistry is far too strong.
"Indeed. You can half-ass the latter."
*Quietly evaluating if she is actually an old monster.*
 
Well when you really think about it, a drill that will pierce the heavens would fit right in with her philosophy.

"In this movement the Gurran-dan displayed those virtues that were as much a part of their social and intellectual order as the shortcomings that had got them into the present mess. They had defied reason in the interwar years; they defied it now with an instinctive faith that the right thing to do was the most dangerous and difficult. They had been bred to provide leadership; they prized bravery and resolution above any kind of cleverness and expertise; and they were to fight their way out of catastrophe, by treating facts as less real then willpower. "
-- Lordgenome
 
She gave him a flat look. "Are you insulting my mistress Tang Qunying?"

"Maybe? I thought you hated your sect masters?"

She shook her head. "She's not from my sect."

"So how did you meet her then?"

"Didn't." Qian Shani shrugged easily. "Her manual's very good though, so until she finds me and makes me stop, I'll call her my mistress - if she's even still alive to do so."

"Must be quite the person, for you to declare someone your mistress without even meeting them," he grumbled, but came closer to the table, looking it over.

"Yeah, if we had met face to face, I'd have tried to drag her into my bed to fuck her brains out," she said absently, focusing on making sure everything they needed was available, and heard Wang Yonghao sputter next to her. She turned back to him, and saw him blushing profusely. "What?"
i would like to say a personal thanks to the author for feeding my underrepresented lesbian soul with this exchange.

on a slightly more serious and just as gay note, this exchange in combination with the occasional flirting with the merchant woman and the Lack of flirting with men has me fully convinced that Shanyi is actually perhaps canonically a lesbian which is incredible for me because it's usually just a headcanon. we love to see canonical sapphics.
 
We haven't eliminated the possibility that Shanyi is bi.

If we accept the assumption that Yonghao's luck is pushing him into the role of a stereotypical xianxia protagonist, then the Heavens have probably assigned Shanyi the role of primary love interest.
Now, with our limited understanding of the Heavens, it's certainly possible that they would inflict that role on someone who would never consent to it. However, I'd argue that they'd look for someone who could actually fit the role they wanted. If the Heavens aren't completely ignorant of human sexuality, they'd presumably factor it into their plans for Yonghao.
 
Now, with our limited understanding of the Heavens, it's certainly possible that they would inflict that role on someone who would never consent to it. However, I'd argue that they'd look for someone who could actually fit the role they wanted.
The Heavens really want Wang Yonghao to cultivate. The way I'd do it, with knowledge of human psychology and his particular situation, would be to ease up on the luck that causes disasters to happen nearby. Let him feel secure enough to settle down. Then, once he's well entrenched in a local community, start sending problems his way. Problems he can handle but would be easier if he cultivated more. Slowly escalate. Keep the problems frequent enough that he can guess there'll be another, but whenever it looks like he's going to run, ease off.

The heavens are not very in tune with how humans think, though.
 
We haven't eliminated the possibility that Shanyi is bi.

If we accept the assumption that Yonghao's luck is pushing him into the role of a stereotypical xianxia protagonist, then the Heavens have probably assigned Shanyi the role of primary love interest.
If Shanyi is a lesbian (and I've been inferring that this might be the case, too), and if Heaven is trying to push Shanyi into the primary love interest role, then I totally retract all prior statements about Shanyi adopting an unreasonable position in her personal hostility (and general 'personalization') of Heaven.

Because now she's got something to get justifiably spitting, snarling, too-mad-to-think-straight angry about.

If the Heavens aren't completely ignorant of human sexuality, they'd presumably factor it into their plans for Yonghao.
That "if" is doing a lot of heavy lifting here.
 
If the Heavens aren't completely ignorant of human sexuality, they'd presumably factor it into their plans for Yonghao.
That "if" is doing a lot of heavy lifting here.
There are two "if"s in that post, and that seems like the less questionable of them. Even if Heaven doesn't have any functionaries who used to be mortals, they can observe humans and recognize patterns.
 
There are two "if"s in that post, and that seems like the less questionable of them. Even if Heaven doesn't have any functionaries who used to be mortals, they can observe humans and recognize patterns.
I wouldn't put it past them to just fail to perceive the existence of gay people who aren't bi and try to force them into roles blindly.

"Yes I'm going to ignore all the homoerotic subtext in this story and force these two characters into a straight pairing in my fanfic" sounds like about the expected level of insight and reasoning for the system upstairs here.
 
Chapter 45: Bare Your Teeth And Shatter Lightning
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 I post memes I make about FSE, and occasionally discuss some plans and worldbuilding details. Want to talk about the Heavenly tribulation? It's the best place to be!
Thanks for reading! :)

When Wang Yonghao woke up, Qian Shanyi was drawing out cutting patterns on the fabric of the cultivator robes gifted to her by Wu Lanhua, the same ones ripped apart in the flash flood.

Her experience taught her well - controlling her rope technique with loose bits of string was far too unreliable in a stressful situation. She needed a more robust solution, and that came in the form of gloves: she could anchor the technique to various threads in the fabric, and control the target rope by simply moving her fingers. She would be sacrificing some precision and versatility, but the tradeoff was more than worth it. Three Obediences Four Virtues even provided a convenient sewing pattern for the gloves - though it did not mention any relation between the two.

She could almost hear Tang Qunying laughing over her shoulders.

When Wang Yonghao crawled out of their sleeping bunker, she put her work on hold, waved him over, and pulled out several flowcharts she'd drawn while he slept.

"You seem strangely cheerful," he said, coming over to their only work table and looking at her warily. "What's with that smile? It's unnerving."

"Why shouldn't I smile, Yonghao?" She laughed. "I have a plan!"

"That just makes me even more concerned."

"What?" She squinted at him. "I make great plans."

He moved his palm uncertainly, making a face. She scowled at him slightly.

"Name one time my plan was bound to fail right from the start."

"Remember how you almost killed both of us by experimenting with the chiclotron?"

"Fine, name two times."

He opened his mouth to respond, and she waved him off. "No matter," she said, "let's talk about the tribulation instead. I think I know how we could boost our chances. No time to waste - we only have nine days to prepare."

Nine days within the world fragment - but only two in the outside world. She even planned out the exact hour they would come out.

"Nine days?" He frowned, leaning forwards. "Why nine days? We aren't on a time limit."

"No, we very much are." She shook her head. "The tribulation is not the only factor at stake here. We also have to keep quiet the existence of your inner world - as I am sure you are already aware."

"What about it?"

"Think about the innkeeper," she said, shuffling through her papers and pulling out a diagram she made of all the parties who knew about their existence in the town. "He saw us buy a room and head inside. First day we don't come out - fine, young cultivators, probably fucking like rabbits -"

Wang Yonghao's face grew red and he scowled at her. She briefly wondered when it would stop amusing her so much.

"- then second day, we still don't come out, and there is no smell of fire, no smoke out of the chimney. It starts to seem strange. Surely we would at least cook, or visit a restaurant? Once the third day rolls around, people will start to ask questions - and even with your luck or the Heavens running interference, I would rather not risk it."

"I could just go up and light another fire," he said, "it would only take a minute."

"No, you cannot." She shook her head again. "The moment you open the entrance, we risk the heavenly tribulation descending - they would see that your meridians are no more pure than when you first went in, and know that I have broken the vow on my end."

"So? If they can't see into my inner world, they can't touch you."

She grimaced. As if it would be that easy. "That's dubious logic - the risk is very significant, Yonghao," she said, "but more to the point, it would reveal our cards. Right now, the Heavens should still think that I am trying to train you hard - they have no motive to plot against me. If you pop your head out - even for just a moment - then they will start to set up traps. Imagine how badly my tribulation could go if a wave of demon beasts attacked the town at the exact same time, or an errant demonic cultivator were to interfere. We can't give them an opportunity to do so - and that means we only open the entrance once we are ready to go."

"Fine, then let's move out of the town now," he said, "the Heavens couldn't complain about you taking a bit to start training me, could they?"

"That is also risky." She knocked on the side of her head for emphasis. "It's possible that this damned vow remembers all I say - and as soon as I am out of the world fragment, the Heavens will get a report."

He crossed his arms on his chest, ready to argue, and she smiled. It was always nice to see a cultivator ready to stand for his beliefs.

He was still wrong, of course. It took her a good half hour to walk him through her reasoning, her plans and fallbacks, as well as a couple cards she had been keeping close to her chest, and explain why it would be a terrible idea to open up the world fragment now, even if she could get more training out of it.

"This is still insane," he grumbled, rubbing his face in frustration, still mostly unconvinced, "nine days isn't even enough for you to open your seventh dantian, is it?"

"Even odds, I'd say." She shrugged causally. "When I was heading to you, I thought I would be lucky to get a couple days of training, while I stalled you out about how I found you. Nine days is a small blessing."

"How could it be even odds?" He opened his hands, looking at her with puzzlement in his eyes. Instead of answering, she pulled out her sketch of her training schedule, and handed it to him. He read through it, his eyebrows slowly climbing his forehead. She smirked.

"Shanyi, you'll get qi deviation from taking this many pills at once," he said, glancing up at her, "even I know that much."

"I'd only get it after two weeks." She rolled her eyes. "I've done the math on the interactions, Yonghao. I won't call nine days of this safe, but as long as it kills me slower than the tribulation, that's all that matters."

He sighed, putting down her schedule, and stared straight at her. "Shanyi, please. Admit you made a mistake before it kills you. You should have gotten me out of the town, out of the tavern - then we could have trained for as long as was necessary."

"Why would I get out of this town?" She stared at him in confusion. "The town is one of my best survival tools."

"And how in the netherworld's name is that?"

She stared at him in confusion, before it clicked in her mind. He'd never gone through a tribulation - and most likely fled from any sign of one. He wasn't educated.

He straight up didn't know.

"Yonghao, cultivators never challenge the Heavens alone," she said quietly, "you may not have seen this, but I did, every time someone broke through into the building foundation realm in the Golden Rabbit Bay. If the tribulation goes bad… Others will stand with us."

The days passed quickly.

She purified her meridians until her body couldn't go anymore, and then trained curse techniques until her voice gave out too. Then, she took healing pills, and waited to do it all over again.

Most techniques were based on a simple, mathematically strict exchange of spiritual energy - the same amount went in to produce the same effect. The basis of curse techniques worked in much the same way - the only difference being that the spiritual energy had to be concentrated in her throat dantian, and shaped partly using her speech in order to produce compulsions or blasts of force. Yet there was also a deeper level to them - one described only in the broadest strokes in Three Obediences Four Virtues - where a cultivator could get more out of the technique than they put in, through imposing their will on the world around them, whatever that was supposed to mean.

She was many months away from even beginning to probe at that level of mastery - for now, she couldn't even get the basic techniques to work without wrecking havoc on her vocal cords after half a dozen tries.

At least she got a lot of practice at fingerspeaking from it.

Before, she had deliberately avoided practicing curse techniques at all, as it made the Heavens more predictable - they would think she only had her flying sword, and play accordingly. Now, she focused on them instead: her old reluctance could be turned into a trap.

When she could manage to lift her arms without wincing, she sparred with Wang Yonghao - it was always good practice, even if it couldn't compare to a real fight, neither of them willing to truly push themselves due to the risk of hurting the other. She trained her control with her flying sword, and her precision and speed at controlling the rope. She taught Wang Yonghao how to lie better, and when all she could manage to move was her eyes, she thought about her equipment - adapting bandolier designs, going over what talismans and pills she would take and in what order.

Not a single minute wasted, always balancing just on the edge of what she could take without breaking entirely.

In other words, exhilarating.

Though really, she was well past balancing on the edge - it was more that she had jumped off, and was simply counting on a bungee cord pulling her back to the cliff face before she fell to her death. She got about three hours of sleep each night, running mostly on a careful regimen of stimulants and alertness powders, administered every four hours. The training she was doing was far too harsh as well - the only reason she could manage was her constant consumption of stimulants and healing pills. That would, in turn, cause her problems down the line from the slow accumulation of toxins in her body - there was a reason why no sane alchemist would sign off on the regime she made for herself.

It was self destructive to the extreme, and could not last forever - but she didn't need forever. She just needed nine days.

In nine days, she'd challenge the Heavenly tribulation, and then she could rest for as long as she damn well pleased.

Qian Shanyi tied her spare rope around her waist and checked her equipment one last time.

She was wearing the same scarlet robes she had worn when she arrived in Glaze Ridge, though she added a large seal of a dancing dragon and phoenix on the skirt, embroidered from black thread. She had always loved phoenixes, and a girl could let herself be a little vain when heading into mortal battle, couldn't she?

Over the robes, she strapped a bandolier, with a bottle of medicines she would take at the last moment, and spares for others who might join her. Her old, trusty sword was strapped to her waist, with three of her cooking knives arranged on her back, in sheaths of wood and cloth Wang Yonghao had helped her make. Trusty fly whisk hung off her waist, same as before, right next to several defensive talismans of white jade, tied down with light tassels, ready to be activated at a moment's notice. Her hands were covered in her new gloves - it took her many tries to get the fit just right, but she had managed it.

She brought a second sword alongside her - one that looked as plain as she could find among Wang Yonghao's hoard, which said little, for it still was fit for a sect elder. Its blade looked like it was forged with a bolt of lightning, with a delicately carved jade guard. It was simply hanging off her shoulder by a strap, ready to be dropped on the ground once it got in the way - but really, she did not expect to need it. Moving her flying sword still took a bit too much of her attention - if she was stuck trying to defend herself at the same time, it was best to simply recall it. Mostly, it was there as a fallback, in case the tribulation took her first sword.

Equipment: check.

Wang Yonghao shifted uneasily next to her. "You know, we could always delay - " he began.

"Enough with this foolishness." She rolled her eyes at him. "We made the plan, we discussed all potential loopholes. We agreed it was logical. Have we learned anything new since then?"

He grimaced. "You didn't unlock your seventh dantian."

"That's not new." She shook her head. "We knew this was a possibility. The logic for the timing remains correct - backing out now would just be a decision made out of fear, and if you are too afraid to commit, you cannot gamble."

She went over to their work table, where bottles of her slow-acting pills were arranged well in advance, and swallowed them one by one together with some rosevine tea. Broad healing pills, protective ones against burns or frostbite, antivenoms, pills to accelerate her recovery of blood… She was well prepared for anything that might happen.

"Well, let's go," she said, handing a second rope over to Wang Yonghao, "I didn't sleep the luxurious eight full hours just before for nothing. I have a date with some flaming celestials, and the Heavens do not tolerate tardiness."

He rolled his eyes at her. Through herculean effort over the past week, she had managed to get him to the point where he was merely annoyed at her crass statements instead of having a heart attack, which she for one called great progress.

They rose into the air until they were at the very top of the world fragment, and Wang Yonghao opened the entrance. They stayed still for a moment, before she nodded at him, and he stepped through the opaque membrane covering the entrance portal. She stayed within the world fragment, hanging up in the air, the rope connecting them a bit longer than usual to accommodate for this.

Since they had the opportunity, they decided to test the limitations of the Heavens' sight. They knew - or at least, heavily suspected - that they could not perceive what happened within Wang Yonghao's world fragment when it was closed. But could they see into it when the entrance was open? And would they be able to call down a tribulation on her when Wang Yonghao stepped out, but she stayed inside?

It turned out they could not - no tribulation struck her down, and the vow in her mind stayed inert. She waited until a count of ten to make sure, and then tugged twice on the rope connecting her and Wang Yonghao. He came back, and they descended down to the ground.

"This is great news," she said, smiling, "at least I won't have to burn all my notes any time we open the entrance, lest the Heavens spy some diagram or map that they should not. And if they truly cannot call down a tribulation here… that opens up all sorts of options."

"Or my plan to placate them had worked," he said, crossing his arms.

"True." She nodded. "Still, let's be pessimistic - head to the postal office."

Over the past nine days, they'd discussed the plan in excruciating detail - he already knew exactly what to do.

Wang Yonghao sighed, and rose up into the air, passing through the entrance to the world fragment. It closed behind him, and she settled down to wait.

The safest place for her to transcend the tribulation was, of course, one of the imperial postal offices; but the closest one to them was in Reflection Ridge, all the way across the valley of glass - Glaze Ridge had merely a small transfer station. Their best guess for when - if at all - the Heavens would send down the tribulation was when she left the world fragment, and so their plan was for Wang Yonghao to head there on his own, find a hidden spot, and then release her.

Hovering a foot above the ground, Wang Yonghao had nothing whatsoever to fear from the glass in the valley. At a sprint, it should take him perhaps ten minutes to get across - but for her, within the world fragment where the time flowed faster, it would be forty six minutes of waiting.

To pass the time, she started working through the manuals left behind in his treasury.

When she had first looked at them, back when she was cleaning up, she'd noticed that four of them - one of the books and three scrolls - were written in unfamiliar languages. She couldn't very well bring the manuals to a linguist - who knew what information was contained there? If one of the treatises happened to focus on creating human cauldrons, then that would surely bring attention of the spirit hunters - and even if she knew she was innocent, explaining where she got the book would be all but impossible.

That left translating them on her own, and the first step was identifying the language. Her plan was to write down lists of individual characters, then narrow it down to the most common ones - and thus ones most likely to be generic verbs or nouns, as opposed to more specialized terms like "human cauldron". That should both make them much safer to research, even if she had to request help, and also more likely to be shared with closely related languages.

She ran into a problem quite quickly. Whatever language the book used, it clearly did not rely on characters to convey meaning - over the first few pages, she only counted forty seven distinct shapes, and a few of those looked like merely larger copies of the other ones. Perhaps combinations of them were the key - they seemed to be grouped together, separated by gaps, and written in horizontal lines across the page, instead of the vertical ones she was used to.

Even the shapes themselves seemed to be very generic - lines and circles, in various combinations. Perhaps a linguist could still recognise the overall set, but she didn't hold that much hope - this may well be a code invented by an individual sect.

Encoding manuals used to be a much more common practice back in the day, meant as a protection against thieves and outsiders - but nowadays, it had fallen out of use. There was simply not much point - any code simple enough to be used on the fly could also be decoded by even a middling linguist, while any that was hard to translate would lead to disciples writing down notes, which a thief could steal much more easily than a manual properly protected within the sect's library.

Somewhat more common was putting traps into the text of the manual - an altered spiritual energy circulation diagram that would turn you from the inside out if you practiced it, but could be corrected into its true form with relative ease. She had already experienced this with the Three Obediences Four Virtues - the diagram for the complex flying needle technique concealed a much simpler one within itself - even though Tang Qunying did not do so to kill the reader, the principle was the same. A direct disciple could be told where the traps were, while a thief would die in torturous agony. This was especially common when it came to alchemical manuals, as recipes required very precise quantities of ingredients - even a single false quantity could spell disaster.

Yet even this practice was slowly dying out - a sect was more than simply a collection of its elders, and if one of them died without passing down this knowledge, the sect could be stuck with a useless piece of paper. The proper way to deal with manual thieves was much simpler: do not let the theft occur in the first place.

After the book, she turned to the scrolls. One of them was written in cursive - it was hard to even tell where one character ended and another began, and so she laid it aside. She doubted she could get much farther with that one on her own. The other two, at least, seemed promising - plenty of unique characters she could try to look up in a library.

By the time she had finished writing down notes for further research, close to an hour had passed.

She got up, stretched, and started to pace nervously around the center of the world fragment. Wang Yonghao should have reached Reflection Ridge by now, and the entrance would crack open at any moment.

Minutes ticked by, and yet it remained closed.

She bit her lip. Why the delay? Did something happen?

She shook her head to clear it. It was pointless to worry - actively harmful, in fact, for it would disturb her state of mind for the tribulation ahead. Instead, she picked up the other two books - ones that she could read, but not practice - the Seventeen Classifications of Essential Medical Herbs and the Jade Diamond Muscle Refining Law.

Seventeen Classifications of Essential Medical Herbs was an advanced alchemical text - way beyond her skill, for now - but that didn't mean it couldn't be useful. Scattered here and there throughout the text were references to other alchemical treaties - she wrote them down, in the hopes that at least one of them would be easier to digest, and could let her build up to the main text itself. Likewise, there were plenty of names for the medical herbs - she wrote them down separately. She recognised several as having been mentioned in Three Obediences Four Virtues - after all, the line between alchemy and immortal cooking had always been somewhat blurry, not that alchemists liked to admit it. Finding information on the plants seemed like a promising lead.

Jade Diamond Muscle Refining Law, on the other hand, was never going to be directly useful to her, as she had not followed the corresponding regime of drugs since childhood. However, her recent fight with Wang Yonghao had changed her perspective somewhat - even if becoming a body fundamentalist was not her path, the usefulness of strong fists in a pinch could not be denied. Scattered throughout the manual were generic pieces of advice about training your muscles and bones that did not depend on spiritual energy circulation - and those she could use. Likewise, there were some diagrams of pugilist stances - ones that certainly would have been ten times more effective when practiced with the law itself, but since her own knowledge of the topic amounted to a grand total of nothing at all, it was still an improvement.

More time passed. When she looked at the clock again, two full hours had gone by since Wang Yonghao left - twenty six minutes on the outside, well over two and a half times what they had planned. He wasn't just delayed, he was late, and something had definitely happened.

Hundreds of possibilities spun in her mind. This was sabotage from the Heavens - had to be, no two ways around it. They knew she had cheated them, and were trying to stack the deck in their favor - had done something to Wang Yonghao. The only question was - what?

She felt something drip down her chin, and with a start, realized she'd bitten her lip hard enough to draw blood. She licked it away, and forced her breathing to stabilize. Panic would only play into their hands.

She briefly debated calling the entire plan off, before deciding against it. They were all in now - if the heavens already knew she was playing against them, then waiting more would only give them more time to set up traps.

By now, the effect of some of the pills she took in preparation had been running out. Fortunately, she had bought more than she expected to need, and so she made more rosevine tea and took a new dose.

To keep herself calm, she settled down in a lotus pose in the exact middle of the world fragment, and started to very slowly circulate her spiritual energy. There was no practical point to this - the effectiveness of clearing your meridians dropped off a cliff the slower the speed of recirculation - but the meditation kept her mind calm without putting any stain on her body.

She would need her muscles to be fresh later.

A full half an hour after she started, the entrance of the world fragment finally opened, and Wang Yonghao poked his head through. His hair looked a bit haggard.

"Ah, Yonghao! Good to know you are still alive," she noted sarcastically, looking up at him. Her meditation helped a lot: she felt calm again, ready for anything. "Would you like some refreshments? Some tea, perhaps a steam bun?"

"No time for jokes," he snapped, tossing her a rope. It unfurled through the air, landing at her feet. "Get up here quick."

She grabbed the rope as soon as it reached her face, and started to climb. Wang Yonghao's head vanished, and she felt the rope pull upwards, accelerating her up into the air.

She grinned, her hair whipping behind her as she ascended. If the Heavens thought a little delay would stop her? They would soon learn the depths of their folly.

As soon as her head breached the entrance to the world fragment, she felt a wave of unrelenting hatred slam into her mind. The vow went from being inert to a full blown fury in a blink, and she just barely managed to keep it from tearing itself apart.

"Oh, you fucks are really not happy about me, huh?" she groaned, her mouth splitting open in a vicious grin of pain and challenge as she stumbled away from the entrance. She clutched her head, dimly aware of Wang Yonghao closing the world fragment behind her, and tried to get the vow back under control.

She didn't manage to pacify it… But she adapted to the pressure on her mind quickly, and looked around. They were hidden behind a shed in a small enclosed garden, with nobody else around. Out of sight, just as planned.

"Who are these 'fucks' you speak of?" Wang Yonghao asked haughtily, but in his eyes she could see understanding, fear and resignation. They've discussed this too - it was best to pretend Yonghao knew nothing about the vow, and would refuse to help her with her tribulation.

"I'll explain in a moment. Where's the post office?" She groaned, still struggling against the vow, and soon they were sprinting away down the streets of Reflection Bay.

No way out now.

"Why were you late?" she asked, her breathing stable even as they ran fast enough for the wind to whip her hair behind her like the tail of a comet, heads turning to follow them.

"Jian Shizhe found me, wanted a duel," Wang Yonghao said with a purse of his lips, "I had to throw him off my trail. He's still stalking around here somewhere."

That couldn't possibly be a coincidence. She would have tried to puzzle through the implications, if the vow wasn't threatening to implode if she didn't pay utmost attention to keeping it stable.

The postal office was the same as always - the squat hill of grass, blackened stone and reinforced earth, with the thirteen-leaved lotus flag fluttering over the roof on a tall mast. As they burst through the thick metal doors, her eyes skimmed over a dozen people inside - not one cultivator among them, come to send or receive mail. They got some angry shouts when she unceremoniously shoved through the queue, heading straight for the postmaster.

The postmaster himself was an ordinary person, heading into his forties, his robes marking him out as a moon-rank civil servant - just a step behind Lan Yu. His hair was dyed bright red, and tied back in a long tail - she had seen the style in the Golden Rabbit Bay, though the name escaped her. He looked at her with barely repressed annoyance at the intrusion.

"How may I help -" he began.

"Qian Shanyi, righteous cultivator." She grinned, interrupting him, speaking clearly and precisely. "I'm about to go through a heavenly tribulation."

She heard gasps of terror from the other people in the room, and a scramble to get away from her. The postmaster's eyes widened. "When?"

"When do you think? Now," she said, "We'll need the goggles."

"Fuck!" The postmaster snarled, ducked below the counter, and tossed her and Yonghao a pair of goggles of solid black glass. Moving quickly, he flipped a large lever on one of the walls, the groan of old mechanisms audible even through the thick stone as an alarm began to blare somewhere above, growing louder by the moment.

"The postal office is closed!" She heard him telling the others in the room, but she wasn't listening, already sprinting outside. "The doors will be sealed - "

She dashed out, and scrambled up the hill, only slowing down when she reached the flagstock.

She had given her true name on impulse, but frankly… Help or not, preparation or not, there was a good chance she would die today - and if she did, she wanted to at least be buried under her own damn name.

She had discussed the possibility with Wang Yonghao, and wrote up a pair of final letters to her parents, just in case. He promised to deliver them in person, alongside with her sword, the one she won in a competition so long ago - she didn't want it sold, or to gather dust among his treasures.

She didn't know if he could manage it, with his luck as it was, but it made her feel better. And at least now they'd be able to find her grave.

She leaned against the flag, and faced Yonghao, who had his arms folded on his chest.

Location: check.

"A tribulation, huh." Wang Yonghao scowled at her, reciting prepared lines. Her tutelage helped, but he was still a terrible actor, emphasizing words way too much - but then again, the Heavens were a terrible audience. "When were you going to tell me about this?"

"Aw, relax!" She grinned. "What did you have to worry about? Me making a little vow to the Heavens to make you train like hell for a month? Couldn't even manage that, could you?"

His scowl grew deeper, and he clutched his hands into fists. "A vow? A vow?! You made a vow to force me to train? My life, my cultivation - just toys for your amusement? How dare you?!"

Wow, that was actually pretty good. She told him to channel the feelings from their fight, and that worked beautifully. Perhaps he still held some true resentment for her over what she did.

"Eh, you'll get over it," she said, waving her arm easily, "now will you help or not?"

"Help?! Fuck you," he said, "I hope I'll see you splattered across this hill today for what you did. In fact, I'll take a front row seat!"

She forced her smile to falter a bit. Wang Yonghao marched away, settling down on the grass with an angry look in his eyes.

Yonghao: check.

She sighed, pretending to fix her hair, and then dropped her spare sword on the ground, and unclipped her main sword off her belt. She lifted her eyes to the skies, spreading her arms.

The vow roiled angrily in her mind, threatening to slip out of her grasp at any moment. Only mere moments left now.

"Well, Heavens," she hissed, "it seems fate has brought us together once again."

With her free hand, she opened up a pouch on her bandolier, and pulled out a small pill bottle, filled with a glowing powder and a single pill, blood-red, with swirls on its surface. She flicked her spiritual energy through the bottle, tossing the pill into her mouth, and swallowed it. She felt it slip through her esophagus, and disintegrate almost immediately, heat pulsing through her entire body.

"You sought to make me your patsy, to force me to do your dirty work?" She hissed, focusing on absorbing the pill properly. It was a specialized, powerful short-term healing pill, with a focus on tissue regeneration. Taking it in advance would reduce the effect, but if she got hit, she might not be able to swallow it. "You sanctimonious pieces of shit, you actually thought that would work? That I would ever bow my head to you, bloodthirsty celestial freaks?"

She brought the rest of the bottle to her nostril and snorted the glowing powder inside. It hit her like a rampaging demon beast, all of her senses sharpening in an instant, and she stumbled from the momentary overload, the dose far higher than what she took to stave off sleep. As the stimulant took effect and her mind went into overdrive, she felt as if the time around her slowed down by a solid fraction. She grinned, feeling a whole cocktail of emotions swirling inside of her, and couldn't help but laugh.

"I defy you, Heavens!" She shouted, turning her face back to the skies, and tore the vow into pieces within her mind, the pressure on her vanishing instantly. It was mere moments away from doing that on its own, but she'd be damned if she let the Heavens make the final decision. "I spit in your faces, I break your laws, I shatter your chains, and I swear on my life, I will climb up into the skies and tear out your throats until I will drink my fill of your blood!"

As soon as the vow was gone, thunder sounded across the clear, sunny skies as they began to darken, light fading overhead. Even the suns began to dim. An entirely different pressure descended around her, like a cold wind before a thunderstorm.

The hair on her head began to rise, spiritual energy in the air shifting, moving under forces askew to reality, and she hurriedly pulled the black goggles over her eyes.

Thunder sounded again, and again, and then with a flash so bright it would have blinded her if not for her goggles a thunderbolt had smashed down from the skies. Aimed straight at her head, it bent through the air, twisting, curling, and yet was pulled towards the copper flagpole above the postal office, safely absorbed down into the ground.

The thirteen-petal lotus flag fluttered in the wind above her, standing out against the eye-searing lightning.

"You thought I only cared for myself?" she spoke quieter, aware that already, many cultivators would be gathering to watch her transcend the tribulation. The Heavens had good hearing - she shouted for her own satisfaction, not theirs. "That I would throw Wang Yonghao under the bridge to serve my own cultivation? You thought you could dictate how he lives, torture him with luck? Unacceptable! Unjustifiable! Even though the lazy fuck won't raise a single finger to save himself, I will still fight against you!"

Her hair stood on end again, as the second bolt of lightning struck down, twice as bright as the first one. It lanced down, straighter than the one before, and yet was still pulled into the flagpole a couple meters above her head.

She laughed, standing defiant as the skies tried and failed to murder her. The empire built their postal offices well - this flagpole could easily take a dozen lightning strikes in a row and remain standing.

Third bolt - that one, would hit her. She knew this, felt it in the movement of spiritual energy around her.

Behind her, she heard the postmaster climbing the hill as well, and glanced over at him. He was carrying a large book - Tribulation Index. She could almost read the golden lettering from where she stood.

It was brave of him to stay, even if she had the book all but memorized at this point. Most cultivators could have used his help - as long as he did not interfere in the tribulation, the Heavens would not directly strike him down, and so he could stay relatively safe - and the Heavens did not consider giving advice, or organizing others to help to be interference.

Junming was walking alongside him, carrying a strange, blue lantern on a long stick, almost half as tall as a person. His mask, alongside his thick outer robes was missing, revealing the gray skin beneath. At least they should keep the postmaster safe.

All the way at the bottom of the hill and out on the street, she could see other cultivators begin to arrive, come to witness another of their ranks challenging the Heavens.

She could give them a show.

Her right hand held the sword she won through her own effort, back in Golden Rabbit Bay, not Yonghao's treasury. The same sword that served her so well all these years.

Into heavens through sweat and blood, said an inscription on the side. Even though her other sword was of higher quality, she couldn't ask for a better weapon to transcend the tribulation.

"You would have to try harder than that, you brigands and murderers," she sneered at the Heavens, pouring her spiritual energy into her sword, until the blade began to hum, "How arrogant can you be, to think you can dictate how to live our lives? This here cultivator is not scared of death! For freedom, I would have fought you alone! Even if all my limbs were broken, I would still fight you! Even if all I was left with was a single tooth, I would make sure to jam it into your jugular! But I am not alone - and hundreds would stand with me, because that's what cultivators do!"

Third bolt struck down, yet brighter than the ones before. It bent across the sky, trying to twist away from the flagpole, and yet half of it was still caught. The other half had crashed down on her head with all the fury of the Heavens.

She was ready for it, having felt its path in the prickling in her hair and the flow of spiritual energy around her. Her flying sword was already moving, flying out of its scabbard, invisible wings unfurling and jets of spiritual energy stabilizing its flight.

It flashed through the air, and shattered the lightning.

She laughed harder still, and pulled the black goggles down to her neck, spinning around gracefully, letting her robes twirl through the shower of sparks falling down all around her. She dreamed of doing this for all her life - she wanted to dance, to rip apart an angel with her bare teeth, to sing and to bathe in their blood, to kiss every person she ever met, to distill this moment into wine and gulp it out of the skull of a dragon.

In the skies above her, a void had formed, a black circle in the fabric of the world - and in this void, she saw the glow of a hundred red eyes, and the chittering of rats.

"So come, send down your butchers," she grinned up at the Heavens, the melody of her laughter echoing across the hill, "and let us relish in the slaughter!"

End of Volume 2, "Tracing The Runaway Trails". Volume 3, "Enthalpy of Tribulation Lightning" starts next week.
 
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Believe it or not, the chapter was ready yesterday, but my laptop ran out of charge literally a minute before I was ready to post, and because I am traveling in Switzerland with their special snowflake electrical sockets, I couldn't charge it until today. A clear interference by the Heavens, I say.
 
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