Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)
- Thread starter yrsillar
- Start date
- Original Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
- Location
- the internet
I believe in the flashbacks that were shown from Qingling's POV, her mom was by far the worst.
I do like that we get some hints that Qingling's family isn't all just trying to make her fit into their mold, that some just don't know how to deal with her but are trying their best with the toolset they have.
It's funny, their inability to understand and value her because she's caustic and irritable and not able to be friendly has made it so Qingling does not value being gregarious. What she cannot do well she finds no value in, something she resents when aimed at her.
It's funny, their inability to understand and value her because she's caustic and irritable and not able to be friendly has made it so Qingling does not value being gregarious. What she cannot do well she finds no value in, something she resents when aimed at her.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Both Quan and Qian clearly have very strong protective feelings towards her even if Qingling doesn't really get it. I love it when we get good Big Bro tidbits in canon.
Hmm, this was a good Snake and Spider.
Especially interesting was the juxtaposition of wealth. The Bao are overflowing with it, obviously and pointedly, and concern themselves with it a great deal. In contrast, the Bai take wealth for granted. The obscenely exquisite mirror talisman, its operation, the import foodstuffs, and so on. They are a family for whom wealth recedes into the background of foundational assumptions.
We also see contrasting takes on the shared role of "the outcast", with Bai Meizhen having longed for belonging she could not pursue with her lack of in-family sponsorship and Bao Qingling who pursued what distance from home and meddling as she could find. We're also seeing Meizhen grow in awareness that maybe esteem or engagement in her family isn't the core driver of her life she'd taken as granted, while Bao Qingling's circumstances are changing enough she might start to see palatable opportunities that are within her family's interests and that her self-exile isn't (as) necessary as the existential safety measure she treats it as.
They have a lot in common, but these are also sown seeds for potential conflict in the future, depending where either of them is in their growth and situation at the time they start making longer-term decisions together. If things last, anyway.
Last thing I noticed and enjoyed, kinda overlapping with an earlier point but worth pointing out more distinctly, is there's the dual ironies of Meizhen's path to family esteem being her turning outwards for companionship and Bao Qingling's key to securing her own boundaries being a dip into the family business.
Especially interesting was the juxtaposition of wealth. The Bao are overflowing with it, obviously and pointedly, and concern themselves with it a great deal. In contrast, the Bai take wealth for granted. The obscenely exquisite mirror talisman, its operation, the import foodstuffs, and so on. They are a family for whom wealth recedes into the background of foundational assumptions.
We also see contrasting takes on the shared role of "the outcast", with Bai Meizhen having longed for belonging she could not pursue with her lack of in-family sponsorship and Bao Qingling who pursued what distance from home and meddling as she could find. We're also seeing Meizhen grow in awareness that maybe esteem or engagement in her family isn't the core driver of her life she'd taken as granted, while Bao Qingling's circumstances are changing enough she might start to see palatable opportunities that are within her family's interests and that her self-exile isn't (as) necessary as the existential safety measure she treats it as.
They have a lot in common, but these are also sown seeds for potential conflict in the future, depending where either of them is in their growth and situation at the time they start making longer-term decisions together. If things last, anyway.
Last thing I noticed and enjoyed, kinda overlapping with an earlier point but worth pointing out more distinctly, is there's the dual ironies of Meizhen's path to family esteem being her turning outwards for companionship and Bao Qingling's key to securing her own boundaries being a dip into the family business.
- Location
- Richland
Hey does anyone remember which omake was the one about the future desciple finding the old garden and the trial left in it?
- Location
- The Star Kingdom of Manticore
Here it is
Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny) Original - Users' Choice!
Future Days: Festivities at an Old Garden. Droplets of water hung suspended in the air around Zeng Yazhu. Their only movement was in time with her breath, each inhalation bringing them closer, and each exhalation flinging them into the distance. Through them she could feel everything around...
forums.sufficientvelocity.com
- Location
- The Star Kingdom of Manticore
There is an exclusive sidestory all about Gu Xiulan available for patron members. That is going to be your best bet for large amounts of Lanlan goodness.
Turn 14: Arc 4-1 Pilgrimage
Ling Qi still did not feel her best when next she stepped through the veil of dream. Her chest still ached with healing bone, her arm was still restrained under heavy plaster and held tight to her chest in a sling. It would be a week or so before she could move it freely again. So, she could not say that she was excited to step back out again.
But she was not going to ignore a debt she owed.
"And, honestly if the ol' bonebag was gonna do immediate harm, he'd have done it," Sixiang commented from above her shoulder.Sixiang was wounded as well, but it manifested differently in a bodiless spirit. Their presence felt thin, and their voice occasionally warbled on the wind its volume and tone turning strange.
"Yes, I won't be totally off my guard," Ling Qi said thoughtfully, looking out into the infinite shadow forest that represented the Sect in the Dream. She took comfort in the golden light that gleamed through the canopy, the acrid scent of lightning hanging ever present in the air. Even her mind could not conjure nightmares of the foxes' presence here, under the eyes of the Sect Heads Dragon.
Instead, she regarded the plain and unassuming door which lead into the twisted prison of time. It stood there in the soft grass, outlined by the mist of the forest, unsupported by frame or hinges. It was all but invisible unless one faced it from the front, appearing only as a thin black line from the sides.
"But, you know. Visiting him of my own will is probably the safest thing I can do," Ling Qi siad thoughtfully. "You can get desperate, I think, when you're alone too long."
"Your not wrong," Sixiang hummed. "Just consider your words carefully, alright?"
"I know a spirit doesn't have to mean harm to do it," Ling Qi said, reaching for the door. Then again, neither did a human. That was just life. She took a deep breath. "I'll be careful."
The door opened silently under her hand, revealing a black void in the world. Ling Qi took a step, and disappeared inside.
The prison remained as it ever was, a wide underground chamber half filled by sluggish black waters. The air was clammy and damp, andno light penetrated its recesses. This mattered little to Ling Qi, who stepped from the door shaped void in its far wall in a gentle rustle of cloth.
Dutiful.
Ling Qi inclined her head as rasping reedy voice impressed itself in her mind, bypassing mortal senses entirely. The shell of the spirit, the black bones of the horned skeleton remained in the center of the lake, on a small muddy islet. Brown and green creepers and vines grew through his bones, flowering with black petals that studded the skeleton, growing from between its rips, pushing out of its jaws, and blooming in empty eye sockets. They rustled as the blossoming skull shifted to greet her.
"I'm not one to delay in paying my respects, thank you again for your assistance, honored Elder," Ling Qi said. She bowed low at the waist,as much as she could manage in her current state.
"I didn't get the chance last time, but let me add my thanks too old timer," Sixiang added, appearing over her shoulder. Though the muses form wavered and faded they bowed too.
Polite Juniors. Come and sit by the shore. A story is owed.
Ling Qi rose smoothly, ignoring the prickling twinge in her ribs, and gave a small nod. With a flick of her wrist, she withdrew a plush cushion from her storage ring, and set it on the damp shore, before sitting down, settling herself in. She kept herself cross legged and straight backed, respectful as one should be with an elder.
The skull very slowly twisted to follow her motion petals drifting down to settle upon the water.
"It began when I learned a friend was considering some extreme methods of cultivation, and I cast around for anything I could do to help…"
The spirit made not a sound as she began to speak, but the shadows gathered close around her, as if she were a flame in the darkness.
Through the whole of her tale the silence was only broken by voice, and the occasional interjection by Sixiang. She spoke of their entry into the realm of the fox, the feeling of hunger and consumption. She spoke of the shrine and the memories of betrayal and twisting, the melted statue and the ghost child.
She began to lay out the tale, considering carefully her words as she used them to paint a story. Choosing words carefully, what to emphasize, what to ignore. She understood implicitly. This was not a place for the dry recounting of facts, but a place for stories. She was careful to comb her own thoughts, internally conversing with Sixiang to make sure the memories weren't vanishing. She checked the flow of her qi, and though she felt a faint tug on her energy, felt some of the qi she breathed out slipping into the waters, it was only a trickle.
A little theft, like a young urchin slipping coopers from a fat purse bulging with silver. Ling Qi didn't allow the cadence of her tale to be interrupted by what she had notice. She met the stare of blooming eye sockets, seeing the glittering green sparks and motes of light that flickered there, and read a smirking challenge.
She spoke of the horror of the betrayed shrine, the melted statue, the cruel rot that permeated all, and, deftly, oh so deftly, extended her cycling qi beyond flesh, letting streamers of mist drift as she stole back drops of liquid darkness and thought to replace what was taken.
A pittance, no more, surely not enough to notice.
Green sparks glittered in the dark.
Shattered Gaol Site Unlocked
+1 XP to a Dream, Darkness or Wind Project
+10 XP to Spiritual Cultivation in a turn
By the time she was able to finish the story, her meridians felt tense, worked over, not quite exhausted but fatigued. Every mote of power snatched from the skeleton's hands inspired a more subtle response, until Sixiang Needed to assist her in noticing the stolen bits of power vanishing from her spirit. Every breath, every cycle of her qi saw little disturbances, sometimes not even thefts, but simple disruptions to her qi that would if left no doubt snarl her cultivation for hours or days.
By the time she poured out the tale of Su Ling's stand, sweat was beading on her brow, and she had long since ceased to have any chance to counterattack in this game of qi theft.
"And that is where the honored senior's assistance came in, granting escape in the chaos," Ling Qi finished, her eyes darted about, gleaming silver, remaining tense for the next theft… but it never came.
A thrilling tale. Junior, these wounds have unsettled you terribly. Observe closely disturbances in cycling.
Well, her next session of cultivation was not going to be as productive as she liked. Of course she hadn't been able to keep up with the spirit's disruption entirely. At the same time, the beads of energy she had taken weighed heavy in her dantian, dream and darkness and wind, potent and dense, ready for assimilation into her dantian.
She had a feeling she would come out better, despite the irritation.
"The Junior thanks the kind senior," Ling Qi said, lowering her head. "Did the tale satisfy?"
Flare. A tale should stir the heart, your words lack.
Ling Qi frowned, she thought she had dressed it up a little, nothing false but a little exuberance of detail to make it more compelling. "I did not wish to lie, honored senior."
Fools and amateurs lie. The master forges the ore of truth into the alloy of narrative. Stories are the ties that bind men together. Stories are power.
"That seems like a dangerous path," Ling Qi said carefully.
The sword is deadly, yet men wield it.
Ling Qi took the point with a lowered head, pondering the words. "How might I improve my stories?"
To begin. Know thy audience.
Ling Qi narrowed her eyes a little, wondering if she was being made fun of. "Then honored senior, may I know the name you would like to be called by?"
Bones and dry vines creaked in the dark, a skull tilted in curiosity.
There was once a man with many names, he too learned to be a thief of winds, but the winds were long stolen, and a master must earn new titles.
Thief of Minds. Thief of Hearts. Thief of Stories. Breaker of Ways
Arch-Heretic of the Dreaming Way.
But names too are stories. Was he ever real at all? A phantom that lived in the minds of the mighty? Was he less or more, a man or group? Perhaps an old grandfather had gone mad, stewing in his regrets, wearing a mask that had become his face.
Who can say?
This one is only an echo, just an echo, bouncing forever in the solitude of a cell.
Ling Qi swallowed thickly as the resonating whispers crashed over her mind. Far fewer words than she had spoken, but she could not ignore the shiver of uncertainty that traveled up her spine. She wondered not for the first time if she was stepping too far.
…But that was a question for those who did not intend to see their path to the summit of cultivation.
"Well you're not wrong," Sixiang muttered.
An echo… that will do. The Junior may call this Elder Huisheng.
"As the senior likes," Ling Qi said carefully. "But if I can ask, Why do the Elder's of the Sect not guard you more closely?"
Green sparks danced and a black petal fell, crisping under the devouring fire until it blew away as viridian dust.
The junior tries to get an old man rambling. The debt is paid. I have been generous.
"You have," Ling Qi agreed. "I apologize for my presumption. Is there anything in particular I should search for in a story?"
Does Xiangmen stand?
Of course," Ling Qi began incredulously. "I-The city, you mean. Yes, the city stands, I have heard it is very prosperous."
There was silence for a time, just the rippling of water and the whisper of wind.
Tell of the Dreaming Court, the Gala's of the Moon, when you return. Even here the shock when the throne of Tsu was taken resounded.
Ling Qi shared a look with Sixiang, and bowed her head again. "It will be done, Elder Huisheng."
She had already been planning to slip aside with Sixiang when she had the chance. Best not to complain when goals are aligned.
She felt the spirit's observation upon her as she stood and bowed again, her cushion vanishing back into her ring. "What will you trade for the tale, Elder?"
Sixiang laughed in her head. There was no point in not being bold.
Bones creaked, and rattled like dry laughter and crunching leaves.
A story. A lesson.
[] A tale of the Dreaming Way
[] A tale of Conclaves and Kings
But she was not going to ignore a debt she owed.
"And, honestly if the ol' bonebag was gonna do immediate harm, he'd have done it," Sixiang commented from above her shoulder.Sixiang was wounded as well, but it manifested differently in a bodiless spirit. Their presence felt thin, and their voice occasionally warbled on the wind its volume and tone turning strange.
"Yes, I won't be totally off my guard," Ling Qi said thoughtfully, looking out into the infinite shadow forest that represented the Sect in the Dream. She took comfort in the golden light that gleamed through the canopy, the acrid scent of lightning hanging ever present in the air. Even her mind could not conjure nightmares of the foxes' presence here, under the eyes of the Sect Heads Dragon.
Instead, she regarded the plain and unassuming door which lead into the twisted prison of time. It stood there in the soft grass, outlined by the mist of the forest, unsupported by frame or hinges. It was all but invisible unless one faced it from the front, appearing only as a thin black line from the sides.
"But, you know. Visiting him of my own will is probably the safest thing I can do," Ling Qi siad thoughtfully. "You can get desperate, I think, when you're alone too long."
"Your not wrong," Sixiang hummed. "Just consider your words carefully, alright?"
"I know a spirit doesn't have to mean harm to do it," Ling Qi said, reaching for the door. Then again, neither did a human. That was just life. She took a deep breath. "I'll be careful."
The door opened silently under her hand, revealing a black void in the world. Ling Qi took a step, and disappeared inside.
The prison remained as it ever was, a wide underground chamber half filled by sluggish black waters. The air was clammy and damp, andno light penetrated its recesses. This mattered little to Ling Qi, who stepped from the door shaped void in its far wall in a gentle rustle of cloth.
Dutiful.
Ling Qi inclined her head as rasping reedy voice impressed itself in her mind, bypassing mortal senses entirely. The shell of the spirit, the black bones of the horned skeleton remained in the center of the lake, on a small muddy islet. Brown and green creepers and vines grew through his bones, flowering with black petals that studded the skeleton, growing from between its rips, pushing out of its jaws, and blooming in empty eye sockets. They rustled as the blossoming skull shifted to greet her.
"I'm not one to delay in paying my respects, thank you again for your assistance, honored Elder," Ling Qi said. She bowed low at the waist,as much as she could manage in her current state.
"I didn't get the chance last time, but let me add my thanks too old timer," Sixiang added, appearing over her shoulder. Though the muses form wavered and faded they bowed too.
Polite Juniors. Come and sit by the shore. A story is owed.
Ling Qi rose smoothly, ignoring the prickling twinge in her ribs, and gave a small nod. With a flick of her wrist, she withdrew a plush cushion from her storage ring, and set it on the damp shore, before sitting down, settling herself in. She kept herself cross legged and straight backed, respectful as one should be with an elder.
The skull very slowly twisted to follow her motion petals drifting down to settle upon the water.
"It began when I learned a friend was considering some extreme methods of cultivation, and I cast around for anything I could do to help…"
The spirit made not a sound as she began to speak, but the shadows gathered close around her, as if she were a flame in the darkness.
Through the whole of her tale the silence was only broken by voice, and the occasional interjection by Sixiang. She spoke of their entry into the realm of the fox, the feeling of hunger and consumption. She spoke of the shrine and the memories of betrayal and twisting, the melted statue and the ghost child.
She began to lay out the tale, considering carefully her words as she used them to paint a story. Choosing words carefully, what to emphasize, what to ignore. She understood implicitly. This was not a place for the dry recounting of facts, but a place for stories. She was careful to comb her own thoughts, internally conversing with Sixiang to make sure the memories weren't vanishing. She checked the flow of her qi, and though she felt a faint tug on her energy, felt some of the qi she breathed out slipping into the waters, it was only a trickle.
A little theft, like a young urchin slipping coopers from a fat purse bulging with silver. Ling Qi didn't allow the cadence of her tale to be interrupted by what she had notice. She met the stare of blooming eye sockets, seeing the glittering green sparks and motes of light that flickered there, and read a smirking challenge.
She spoke of the horror of the betrayed shrine, the melted statue, the cruel rot that permeated all, and, deftly, oh so deftly, extended her cycling qi beyond flesh, letting streamers of mist drift as she stole back drops of liquid darkness and thought to replace what was taken.
A pittance, no more, surely not enough to notice.
Green sparks glittered in the dark.
Shattered Gaol Site Unlocked
+1 XP to a Dream, Darkness or Wind Project
+10 XP to Spiritual Cultivation in a turn
By the time she was able to finish the story, her meridians felt tense, worked over, not quite exhausted but fatigued. Every mote of power snatched from the skeleton's hands inspired a more subtle response, until Sixiang Needed to assist her in noticing the stolen bits of power vanishing from her spirit. Every breath, every cycle of her qi saw little disturbances, sometimes not even thefts, but simple disruptions to her qi that would if left no doubt snarl her cultivation for hours or days.
By the time she poured out the tale of Su Ling's stand, sweat was beading on her brow, and she had long since ceased to have any chance to counterattack in this game of qi theft.
"And that is where the honored senior's assistance came in, granting escape in the chaos," Ling Qi finished, her eyes darted about, gleaming silver, remaining tense for the next theft… but it never came.
A thrilling tale. Junior, these wounds have unsettled you terribly. Observe closely disturbances in cycling.
Well, her next session of cultivation was not going to be as productive as she liked. Of course she hadn't been able to keep up with the spirit's disruption entirely. At the same time, the beads of energy she had taken weighed heavy in her dantian, dream and darkness and wind, potent and dense, ready for assimilation into her dantian.
She had a feeling she would come out better, despite the irritation.
"The Junior thanks the kind senior," Ling Qi said, lowering her head. "Did the tale satisfy?"
Flare. A tale should stir the heart, your words lack.
Ling Qi frowned, she thought she had dressed it up a little, nothing false but a little exuberance of detail to make it more compelling. "I did not wish to lie, honored senior."
Fools and amateurs lie. The master forges the ore of truth into the alloy of narrative. Stories are the ties that bind men together. Stories are power.
"That seems like a dangerous path," Ling Qi said carefully.
The sword is deadly, yet men wield it.
Ling Qi took the point with a lowered head, pondering the words. "How might I improve my stories?"
To begin. Know thy audience.
Ling Qi narrowed her eyes a little, wondering if she was being made fun of. "Then honored senior, may I know the name you would like to be called by?"
Bones and dry vines creaked in the dark, a skull tilted in curiosity.
There was once a man with many names, he too learned to be a thief of winds, but the winds were long stolen, and a master must earn new titles.
Thief of Minds. Thief of Hearts. Thief of Stories. Breaker of Ways
Arch-Heretic of the Dreaming Way.
But names too are stories. Was he ever real at all? A phantom that lived in the minds of the mighty? Was he less or more, a man or group? Perhaps an old grandfather had gone mad, stewing in his regrets, wearing a mask that had become his face.
Who can say?
This one is only an echo, just an echo, bouncing forever in the solitude of a cell.
Ling Qi swallowed thickly as the resonating whispers crashed over her mind. Far fewer words than she had spoken, but she could not ignore the shiver of uncertainty that traveled up her spine. She wondered not for the first time if she was stepping too far.
…But that was a question for those who did not intend to see their path to the summit of cultivation.
"Well you're not wrong," Sixiang muttered.
An echo… that will do. The Junior may call this Elder Huisheng.
"As the senior likes," Ling Qi said carefully. "But if I can ask, Why do the Elder's of the Sect not guard you more closely?"
Green sparks danced and a black petal fell, crisping under the devouring fire until it blew away as viridian dust.
The junior tries to get an old man rambling. The debt is paid. I have been generous.
"You have," Ling Qi agreed. "I apologize for my presumption. Is there anything in particular I should search for in a story?"
Does Xiangmen stand?
Of course," Ling Qi began incredulously. "I-The city, you mean. Yes, the city stands, I have heard it is very prosperous."
There was silence for a time, just the rippling of water and the whisper of wind.
Tell of the Dreaming Court, the Gala's of the Moon, when you return. Even here the shock when the throne of Tsu was taken resounded.
Ling Qi shared a look with Sixiang, and bowed her head again. "It will be done, Elder Huisheng."
She had already been planning to slip aside with Sixiang when she had the chance. Best not to complain when goals are aligned.
She felt the spirit's observation upon her as she stood and bowed again, her cushion vanishing back into her ring. "What will you trade for the tale, Elder?"
Sixiang laughed in her head. There was no point in not being bold.
Bones creaked, and rattled like dry laughter and crunching leaves.
A story. A lesson.
[] A tale of the Dreaming Way
[] A tale of Conclaves and Kings
Last edited:
- Location
- United States of America
[] A tale of the Dreaming Way
He listed themselves as the Arch-Heretic of the Dreaming Way. I would love to hear a tale related to that name.
He listed themselves as the Arch-Heretic of the Dreaming Way. I would love to hear a tale related to that name.
So the Conclave of Kings was the old pre empire style of "Weilu governance".
No idea what the Dreaming Way is tho... the old school Weilu religion before the Hui and Empire got their hands on it?
So might be a history lesson in the old times politics and religion?
No idea what the Dreaming Way is tho... the old school Weilu religion before the Hui and Empire got their hands on it?
So might be a history lesson in the old times politics and religion?
Last edited:
- Location
- United States of America, Michigan
I want the conclave so grandpa can tell us how things were better in the ye 'olden days and how all the new young whippersnappers ruined everything
- Location
- Central Europe
That is an interesting title. I wonder who bestowed it upon him. Probably not the Dreaming Moon (or releated) spirit itself, otherwise Sixiang would have a larger aversion to him. Rather I suspect he was deemed an Arch-Heretic by the prevailing Weilu Orthodoxy of his period. Which would mean he was opposed to their goal of leaving behind reality in favor of the liminal. It would kind of fit with his punishment being locked away beneath the earth in the physical world.
Of course I'm just spitballing here, but I can't wait to find out more about our newest uncle.
NoxOfUmbra
Shadow of the night
- Location
- Colombia, South América
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
[X] A tale of the Dreaming Way
Last edited:
- Location
- Spain
Very intriguing! I wonder what the effects of the thefts that took place in this update will be, both arratively and mechanically.
Also, correction!
I think you meant ribs.
Also, correction!
I think you meant ribs.
Awesome update! Loving our new mentor.
I wonder what the Meng would have to say about him since they still seem to revere the dreaming way. Maybe we should ask Meng Dan some pointed questions.
I can't wait to see more of our new mentor!
Ah so he studied Wind Thief as well. Makes sense! Damn so he's kinda our senior brother under the original thief of winds that became part of the grinning moon. Cool!
I wonder what the Meng would have to say about him since they still seem to revere the dreaming way. Maybe we should ask Meng Dan some pointed questions.
I can't wait to see more of our new mentor!
[] A tale of the Dreaming Way
Maybe we are focusing too heavily in improving our dream skill, always choosing to improve it over learning lore or other abilities. We are even going to do the Dreaming Gala cultivation in Xiangmen of all places. I'm sure that we will get similar choices there.
But we are sure to continue having dream adventures. I would have loved to have had better Dream traits in this last arc, so I want us to get as good as we can for the ones to come.
Like the search for Zhengui's mother.
Also, training by mutual theft of Qi is weirdly adorable. Eldricht Fluff is a genre too, right?
Maybe we are focusing too heavily in improving our dream skill, always choosing to improve it over learning lore or other abilities. We are even going to do the Dreaming Gala cultivation in Xiangmen of all places. I'm sure that we will get similar choices there.
But we are sure to continue having dream adventures. I would have loved to have had better Dream traits in this last arc, so I want us to get as good as we can for the ones to come.
Like the search for Zhengui's mother.
Also, training by mutual theft of Qi is weirdly adorable. Eldricht Fluff is a genre too, right?
- Location
- UK
I like Uncle Skelly-echo!
I was thinking it might be related to the Masons War. Wasn't he also called Nightmare of Burning Groves or something similar by Zhengui? Seems like that would fit.
I was thinking it might be related to the Masons War. Wasn't he also called Nightmare of Burning Groves or something similar by Zhengui? Seems like that would fit.
I assume the Dreaming Way, of which Huisheng is Arch-Heretic, is another name for the Pure Way, the Weilu Way. Which is really interesting because we know just enough about it to realize we know nothing at all. What is it really, beyond what we know about it as the Way of discarding reality which lead to the Weilu leaving it for dreams and the Hui replacing it with their own dreams? Why was he a heretic of it, what does that mean?
I feel like if we want to understand the Weilu we don't need to understand exactly how their system of government worked. That's Renxiang's kind of thinking, but Ling Qi is different. She's interested in the culture, the drives/Wants/Ambitions of a people, and understanding their common Way and Huisheng's opinions on it's flaws. These things more than anything are the ones most likely to have been passed down in the Dream Cults and culture of the Emerald Seas, and could be revived in our Weilu Moderate cultural renewal project.
Is Huisheng's epithet of the Breaker of Ways referring to his breaking from tradition aka something relevant to the cultural argument currently happening in the Emerald Seas or does it refer to him breaking cultivators like he seemed to challenge and teach Ling Qi here? Is his Way similar to the Hui, and was he somehow a precursor to them? His whole thing is that he's trapped but I kind of want to free him and have him join Sixiang as our Dream party.
I feel like if we want to understand the Weilu we don't need to understand exactly how their system of government worked. That's Renxiang's kind of thinking, but Ling Qi is different. She's interested in the culture, the drives/Wants/Ambitions of a people, and understanding their common Way and Huisheng's opinions on it's flaws. These things more than anything are the ones most likely to have been passed down in the Dream Cults and culture of the Emerald Seas, and could be revived in our Weilu Moderate cultural renewal project.
Is Huisheng's epithet of the Breaker of Ways referring to his breaking from tradition aka something relevant to the cultural argument currently happening in the Emerald Seas or does it refer to him breaking cultivators like he seemed to challenge and teach Ling Qi here? Is his Way similar to the Hui, and was he somehow a precursor to them? His whole thing is that he's trapped but I kind of want to free him and have him join Sixiang as our Dream party.