Forge of Destiny #169-209
Author: Yrsillar
Date: 2021-05-30T00:00:00+00:00
Publisher: anonymous

Table Of Contents

- Table Of Contents -
Chapter 169-Family 1
Chapter 170-Family 2
Ling Qingge Interlude
Bonus Chapter: Alone
Chapter 171-Family 3
Chapter 172-Hidden 1
Chapter 173-Hidden 2
Chapter 174-Training 1
Chapter 175-Training 2
Chapter 176-Training 3
Chapter 177-Training 4
Chapter 178-Socialite 1
Chapter 179-Standing
Chapter 180-Years End 1
Chapter 181-Years End 2
Chapter 182-Years End 3
Bonus Chapter-Duty
Chapter 183-Years End 4
Chapter 184-Years End 5
Bonus: Argent Sect Promotional
Chapter 185-Preliminaries 1
Chapter 186-Preliminaries 2
Chapter 187-Preliminaries 3
Chapter 188-Preliminaries 4
Chapter 189-Prelimaries 5
Chapter 190-Preliminaries 6
Chapter 191-Tournament 1
Chapter 192-Tournament 2
Interlude: Sun Liling
Chapter 193-Tournament 3
Chapter 194-Tournament 4
Chapter 195-Tournament 5
Chapter 196-Tournament 6
Chapter 197-Tournament 7
Chapter 198-Tournament 8
Chapter 199-Tournament 9
Chapter 200-Tournament 10
Bonus: The Ministry of Integrity
Chapter 201-Tournament 11
Chapter 202-Tournament 12
Chapter 203-Tournament 13
Chapter 204-Tournament 14
Chapter 205-Tournament 15
Chapter 206-Tournament 16
Chapter 207-Tournament 17
Chapter 208-Tournament 18
Chapter 209-Epilogue

Chapter 169-Family 1

Ling Qi was left feeling contemplative after she parted ways with Gu Tai. She walked the path back toward the Outer Sect mountain at an unhurried pace. She knew that things were going to be changing soon. She had not even been on this mountain a full year, so why did it feel painful to think about leaving?

This last year felt more vivid than the last three combined. Her life before the Sect had been a blur of hunger, fear, and pain. Even at this year’s lowest when she had been stalked by that creep Huang Da, hunted by Sun Liling, or frozen in the midst of a blizzard, it didn’t compare. Fleeting moments of helplessness couldn’t compare to years of hiding and scratching in the dirt for scraps. Their greatest impact came from reminding her of older memories.

However light their touch had been this year in enforcing the rules, the Sect had been the one to give her the opportunity to become more than another flickering, ephemeral mortal existence. She grimaced a little at that thought. It was arrogant, and she felt guilty for having it. She was expecting her Mother soon after all, and she was a mortal; Ling Qi shouldn’t think of them that way.

“Is that the heady aroma of brooding I sense in the air?” a light voice said from right next to her ear.

Ling Qi stiffened but very deliberately did not spin around to face the sudden source against her side. “Sixiang, you shouldn’t startle people like that,” she said tightly, giving the rainbow-haired spirit a withering look.

The spirit laughed, and Ling Qi could tell that the spirit was male at the moment from the slightly deeper tone of their voice and the lump on their throat. “Shouldn’t I? Aren’t humans at their most honest when surprised?”

“Even so, it’s kind of rude, not to mention likely to get you attacked,” Ling Qi replied, resuming her walk. She heard the flutter of cloth as Sixiang followed after her, falling in at her side.

“I’ve never died before, so that could be interesting too,” the spirit said with a smile, their black eyes glittering with mirth. “I wonder how it compares to the ending of a dream…”

Ling Qi shuddered. The utter guileless curiosity in the spirit’s voice was unsettling given the subject matter. “Dying is a more permanent thing. You don’t get to just go on afterward.”

“Are you sure?” Sixiang asked, cocking their head curiously. “How do you know? A dreamer cannot return to a dream after it ends. Even Grandmother cannot do such a thing.”

Ling Qi wasn’t a pious sort so she had never strongly considered such a question. Supposedly, after death, the soul of a human could dissolve or return to the world, lingering in an ancestral shrine or at the site of death. She supposed she knew now that a cultivator could also become a spirit.

“Are you saying that no one has ever dreamed the same dream twice? That seems unlikely,” Ling Qi said.

“Of course you can’t,” Sixiang replied, sounding bemused. “Since you will have become different by the time you next dream, the dream will have changed as well.”

Ling Qi narrowed her eyes in thought before shaking it off; This conversation was distracting. “Did you need something then?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Well, no,” Sixiang said with a shrug, and Ling Qi twitched as the spirit shifted slightly before her eyes, losing a few masculine features and gaining a few feminine ones. “I just have a nose for the mood of artists, you know? You’re definitely in the sort of mood which breeds new works.” A smile touched their thin lips as they spoke. “It’s positively… enticing,” they added eagerly.

Sixiang wasn’t wrong though. She was expecting Mother to arrive sometime today. Ling Qi had been lost on what to do while waiting, but perhaps some time composing would clear her head.

“You might be right,” Ling Qi admitted. “I was intending to seek you out later anyway. Do you want to come along and give me some critique?”

Sixiang clapped their hands in delight, the air around them glittering with her emotion. “Of course! I was hoping you would ask. I’ve wanted to try the making of the friends! We can speak of attractive males and tie each other’s hair in the braid knots!”

“... Too much,” Ling Qi said flatly, stopping to stare dully at the display.

“Was it?” Sixiang asked, pressing a finger to the corner of their lips. “I thought it was fairly tasteful.”

“I know you can speak proper Imperial,” Ling Qi said dryly. “Messing up your grammar on purpose is just silly.”

“I see,” Sixiang mused. “The glitter was good though?”

“I am in no position to object to the glitter.” Ling Qi sighed. “Come on. I know a few good places to compose.”

Sixiang nodded happily, following after her as Ling Qi resumed walking. “Is hair braiding completely out of the question though?”

“Why?” Ling Qi asked, eyeing Sixiang’s shifting rainbow locks. “Can’t you just make it look however you like?”

“I could, but where would the fun in that be?” Sixiang asked, giving her a dubious look.

“Maybe another day,” Ling Qi said, shaking her head and giving up on trying to understand the spirit’s motivations for the moment.

Whatever one could say about Sixiang’s conversational habits, they were rather good at critiquing performances, and over the course of the next few hours, Ling Qi was sure she had figured out where her performance of the Frozen Soul Serenade’s flaws were. She would have to wait until she had time to speak and practice with Zeqing to be sure, but it seemed that she had finally learned to call the ice for Spring’s End Aria quickly, mastering the second cycle of the art.

She would have continued on to more recreational pursuits then, but the arrival of a fluttering paper bird put an end to Ling Qi’s idle cultivation. Her mother’s carriage had arrived.

It took only a few minutes to fly down the mountain, the wind making the silk of her gown flutter and snap as Ling Qi sped down, a dozen conflicting thoughts and scenarios going through her head. Thankfully, she managed to calm herself enough to avoid causing a stir by flying right over the town, setting down a short distance outside the walls.

Even on foot though, she didn’t waste any time, weaving her way through the town streets, paying only minimal attention to her surroundings. Very soon, she reached the other side of town and caught sight of the gates where a carriage surrounded by a small troop of first and second realm cultivators was being unloaded.

She caught sight a moment later of her mother standing a few strides away from the carriage. The sight brought her up short.

Ling Qingge was still a short, dainty woman, but it seemed all the more exaggerated now. Her mother’s head would probably only come up to Ling Qi’s chest, even counting the braided bun her hair was tied up in. Her clothes were plain but clean and unfrayed, a step up from how she had looked the last time Ling Qi had seen her.

Her face had more wrinkles than Ling Qi remembered, lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and she no longer had the doll-like pale skin that Ling Qi recalled being popular among the… clientele at the brothel. Instead, her skin looked coarse and rough to her eyes. None of that was what brought her up short though. Rather, it was the firm reminder that Mother was mortal.

Ling Qi hadn’t paid any mind to mortals in months, not since reaching the second realm really. In her mind, they were basically just slow moving graceless obstacles to move around when she came to the village with Xiulan, but seeing Ling Qingge drove home how much Ling Qi herself had changed and how wide the gap between mortal and immortal was.

Her mother’s aura, something she had become used to seeing as just another part of the people around her, was a flickering, weak thing, a single sad and worn musical note whispered on the breeze. She could read the older woman’s face like an open book and see the mixture of wariness and cautious wonder she regarded the cultivators guarding her with.

Ling Qingge felt helpless and afraid. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop even now like a dog that had been kicked too often, but there was an ember of hope there too. Ling Qi’s eyes followed her mother’s gaze down to where a small hand grasped at her mother’s dress.

That would be her half-sister then, Ling Biyu. The tiny girl stuck close to Ling Qingge. She wore a simple child’s dress, much like Hanyi’s save in quality, and wore her hair in a pair of pigtails. She also had more of her mother in her than Ling Qi ever had in features and complexion. The little girl was peering around with the sort of open wonder that only a child could manage. She couldn’t be more than three years old.

For what seemed like ages, Ling Qi stood there, frozen with hesitation. Could she really just walk up to her mother after all these years and say hello? What was she supposed to do?

Chapter 170-Family 2

She was being ridiculous, Ling Qi knew. She had rushed down here only to falter at the finish. She could do this. Ling Qi wasn’t so awkward and lacking in social grace that she couldn’t even greet her mother in public without causing a scene.

Besides, as much as she might like to hug Mother, looking at her now, mortal and frail, Ling Qi was pretty sure that she wouldn’t want to do anything too sudden anyway. So with that in mind, Ling Qi took a deep breath, composed herself, and resumed walking forward. The two guards watching the street noticed her approach, to their credit, briefly tensing, but then seemed to recognize her. When the two men clapped their fists together and bowed, it drew the notice of the others, including Mother.

She almost paused at the sudden attention and the shows of respect from men years older than her, but then she focused back on her mother. Ling Qi saw the alarm and fear in the older woman’s eyes, and the obvious tension in her muscles as her mother prepared to kowtow. It might have hurt a little, but Ling Qi was sure that she wouldn’t have recognized herself either.

“Mother, it’s so good to see you again!” she called as cheerily as she could sweeping past the bowing guards.

Her mother’s previous alarm dissolved into confused disbelief as the older woman froze in the middle of bowing her head. Ling Qi could practically read her thought process as her eyes flicked back and forth, searching for anyone else who Ling Qi’s words could have referred to. Of course, her mother composed herself quickly, but it made Ling Qi even more aware of how much her senses had changed.

“Ling Qi?” Mother asked, daring to raise her eyes slightly. Her words were quiet and hesitant.

Ling Qi wasn’t surprised that Mother was so worried about giving offense. As far as Ling Qi knew, her mother’s only experience with cultivators were those rough types that had made use of the establishment she had worked at.

“I know I’ve changed quite a lot,” Ling Qi replied instead as she came to a stop in front of the older woman, her gown swaying in the phantom breeze. “But please raise your head,” she added more quietly. She hesitated then reached out to take one of Mother’s worn hands in her own.

Finally, her mother straightened enough to look up and meet her eyes, and although there was still a mix of emotion there, Ling Qi could see the recognition as well.

“Ling Qi,” the older woman breathed for a second time. “You are truly…”

“Momma?” Ling Qi’s attention was drawn downward as a much younger voice spoke up. Looking down, she saw the little girl half-hidden behind her mother looking up at her with wide eyes. “Is that a fairy?” Her grammar and pronunciation was still childish and poorly enunciated but in a way Ling Qi found cute.

Ling Qingge glanced helplessly at the girl, a shadow of her worry still present, but Ling Qi just smiled, and after a moment, her Mother smiled back, even if the expression was a wan thing. It seemed to help that introducing her younger daughter seemed to give her mother something concrete to fall back on. “Biyu, this is your elder sister, Ling Qi.”

Ling Qi reluctantly released her mother’s hand in favor of lowering herself into a crouch to meet the younger girl eye-to-eye. “Hello, Little Sister. I’m sorry we haven’t met before,” she said lightly, glancing back up to meet Mother’s eyes. There was more than one layer to that apology.

Biyu blinked, shuffling a step away from Mother to look at her more closely, her lips turning down in a childish frown. “Pretty sister,” she said, proclaiming her judgement. “Will Biyu sparkle?”

She was never going to hear the end of that, was she?

“Maybe someday,” Ling Qi said, patting the little girl on the head with as featherlight of a touch as she could manage. She stood up again, meeting her mother’s eyes. “Why don’t we go inside? There is no reason for us to all stand outside in the sun while the guards take care of the luggage.”

“If it will not be any trouble,” her mother hedged, glancing at the guards. The guards appeared to be studiously not paying direct attention to them. There were few curious civilian stragglers and at least one Outer Disciple though. “I do not wish to impose on anyone.” The words seemed almost mechanical, a rote response often repeated.

Ling Qi looked to her right, meeting the eyes of one of the two men directly guarding her mother. The guards were both mid second realm with more potent qi than similarly ranked disciples she knew. She supposed that was the benefit of experience. The rest of the entourage was still taking care of the carriage and luggage. “It will not be any trouble, right?”

The man bowed carefully, one hand clasped in the other. “Of course not, Lady Ling. We will stand guard wherever you have need of us.”

Ling Qi pretended not to notice the flicker in Mother’s eyes. It seemed that she was still having a rough time processing the situation.

“I know a nice little teahouse only a few streets from here. I think you deserve time to relax after such a trying journey, Mother.” With the better part of a week stuck in a small area with a child of Biyu’s age, Ling Qi did not feel that she was exaggerating.

“... Of course. Thank you very much, Ling Qi,” her mother replied with a hesitant smile. Ling Qi hoped a soft, mellow blend would help calm her nerves.

Cai was already getting to her, wasn’t she?

Acquiring a private room at the nearby establishment was the easy part, Ling Qi mused. Figuring out how to talk to Mother again was much harder, even once they had left the guards to stand outside the door. Mother seemed as unsure as she was, and Ling Qi did not miss the glances the older woman stole at her now and then in what was probably the closest the older woman could really come to fidgeting.

Biyu was the only one not particularly affected by the atmosphere, quickly distracted by the flowering plants and silk painting decorating the room’s walls.

“There’s nothing dangerous in here,” Ling Qi said, noticing her mother about to call Biyu back. It would take more than a three year old mortal girl to damage anything in a room meant for cultivators.

“As you say,” Mother said quietly. The instinctive air of submission her mother gave off irked her, but the feeling wasn’t directed at the woman beside her. “Ling Qi, I do not-”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as Ling Qi wrapped the shorter woman in a hug. Ling Qi was careful; she was never more aware of the power her cultivation granted her than in this moment with her arms wrapped around a woman who was no more durable than a bundle of sticks to her. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said softly.

Ling Qingge had stiffened in alarm at first, but those words seemed to erase her tension. After a moment, Ling Qi felt her mother return her embrace.

“Foolish girl. What have you to apologize for?” Ling Qingge’s voice was choked and uneven with emotion.

“Not appreciating the things you did for me. Leaving you alone,” Ling Qi said, closing her eyes. It seemed so obvious in hindsight. Teaching her to read and to comport herself as a lady were not the actions of an uncaring parent. Even Mother’s fretting over Ling Qi’s feminine lackings was hardly unreasonable in that light.

“I did little enough, and you have grown beyond my every expectation,” her mother replied, defeated, leaving unsaid the fact that Ling Qi had done it almost entirely without her. “Your choice was the right one. I could not have-”

“Maybe not, but you would have tried,” Ling Qi interrupted, reluctantly letting go of Mother. “And I appreciate that now.” She glanced over to Biyu, but the little girl was busily peering between the fronds of the potted plant in the far corner. “Let me be the one to do so now.”

Ling Qingge sighed, stepping back from their embrace, a touch of moisture at the corner of her eyes. “Have I truly grown so old already?” she asked, a touch of real humor in her voice. “That I must give myself over to my daughter's care?”

“Of course not,” Ling Qi replied with a smile. “Your daughter merely wishes to share her great fortune.”

There was a faint knock at the door then, in the style Ling Qi recognized as the attendant arriving to take their order. “Let’s sit down. We have quite a lot to talk about.”

After they had given their order, Ling Qi began to explain her experience over the past months in more detail and her situation as things stood now as a retainer to Cai Renxiang. She paused only for as long as it took their attendant to lay out the tea and leave.

“Such things are difficult to comprehend,” Ling Qingge said, looking down at her cup, after Ling Qi finally fell silent. Biyu had since fallen asleep on the padded bench that lined the wall, the fatigue from the trip catching up to her. “That you would speak directly to the heiress of such an exalted house, let alone be recruited by her… You must excuse me. Such things are beyond my experience.”

Ling Qi was glad that she had not referenced Bai Meizhen or their interpersonal troubles. Her mother was too young to have heart troubles yet. “I did notice that you had some knowledge of nobility,” Ling Qi inquired carefully. “You have not said as such directly, but…”

Her mother’s expression grew more tired, but she nodded without looking up. Ling Qi hoped that Mother could unlearn that habit one day. “It is a long tale, but you deserve to know of such matters. I cannot rightly consider you a child any longer.”

“There is no need to get into painful details, Mother,” Ling Qi replied. She didn’t want to burden the older woman even more on her first day. They had plenty of time to talk.

“I will spare such things,” Ling Qingge said. She sipped quietly from the cup in her hands as she considered her words before finally raising her eyes. “I was born under the name He,” she began. “They were no family of import, just one of the many servant clans beneath the Liu family that governs Tonghou and the surrounding regions.”

Ling Qi nodded. That explained why her mother would have the education she clearly did. Bigger clans usually had a bunch of unranked mortal and common cultivator clans beneath them to take care of the day-to-day minutiae, or so she was learning as she slowly got to grips with the details of her new position. “Were any of them cultivators?”

“A bare handful, but I was never considered for such things,” Ling Qingge replied, shaking her head. “So I was not educated in such matters. I will not bore you by speaking of that life, but one day I caught the attention of a young master of the Liu. My father was overjoyed of course and quickly began moving to have me recognized as a concubine. Being a foolish, rebellious girl… I ran.” Mother met her eyes then, a slightly bitter smile on her lips. “You see why I could not be angry at you, Ling Qi?”

“I suppose so,” Ling Qi said, glancing away uncomfortably. “If I may ask, what happened?”

“I lived freely for a few months,” her mother replied wistfully. “I made questionable choices. I do not regret you, Ling Qi, but some of the decisions involved were not my best.” She shook her head, her eyes dropping back to the tabletop. “I could not escape notice forever though. My father expelled me from the family in the hopes of limiting the Liu clan’s retaliation to myself rather than the He clan as a whole. I suppose he succeeded; I did not hear of punishment falling upon the He, and the man who had wanted me was satisfied with ensuring that the only occupation I could find was the one which he felt I deserved.”

Ah, her teacup had frozen; she would have to apologize to the owner, Ling Qi thought absently. Thankfully, the effect had been localized so Mother hadn’t been disturbed. One thing stood out to her though, an opening to a question she had never really considered before beyond assuming the answer to be one of her mother’s clients. “If I may ask, Mother, you said that I came before…”

“Your father was an entertainer from the south who came to the city with a trade caravan,” Ling Qingge answered, understanding her question immediately. “He promised me that he would help me leave the city,” she continued, closing her eyes. “A lie of course. He vanished the day before my father found me. Let that be a lesson, Ling Qi, to not accept the promises of men without assurances.”

Ling Qi sighed. She hadn’t expected anything happy, but it was a little depressing. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said firmly. You are my mother. Anyone who wants to cause you trouble will have to go through me,” she continued with confidence. That was one benefit of Cai Renxiang’s patronage. Ling Qi doubted such a small grudge would be worth crossing that line for a viscount family.

For them, anyway. Ling Qi wasn’t sure how she felt yet.

Mother seemed less sure, but she accepted Ling Qi’s word with an acknowledging dip of her head. Their conversation turned to lighter things after that, avoiding more serious topics. By the time they left the teahouse, more than an hour had passed, and Biyu had stirred from her nap, full of energy once more.

Ling Qi escorted her mother to the house the Sect had arranged for them, a tasteful three floor building with a large garden and a couple of servants to take care of things. After looking over the defensive formations and giving the guards a quick review, Ling Qi left, promising that she would return to help Mother finish arranging furniture and belongings the following day.

Ling Qi felt lighter than she had in some time.

Ling Qingge Interlude

“Alright, I think that was everything. Right, Mother?” said the little god with eyes like ice. Her casual manner as she dusted her hands off was at odds with the scintillating power that suffused every motion.

“Yes,” Ling Qingge agreed, but though she was sure that her daughter could sense her unease. It was said that one could conceal nothing from an immortal after all. “You need not tarry here. You must have other business to attend to.” That much, at least, had not changed; her daughter still wore her feelings openly, and she had seen her eyes flicking toward the sky through the open window, measuring the position of the sun.

Ling Qi smiled at her, and for the second time that day, Ling Qingge felt herself swept up in an embrace from her long absent daughter, an embrace which she carefully returned. It was impossible to miss the careful tension in that embrace though, as if Ling Qi were worried that she might shatter if the young girl wasn’t careful. Maybe she would, at that.

“I have missed you,” Ling Qi said quietly. “Thank you for coming, Mother.”

“There is no need for that,” Ling Qingge replied quietly. “I am the one who should be giving thanks.” It was strange. None of the silly stories told to little girls were about a prodigal child coming to sweep one away. She thought she might prefer this though. “Now go. I am sure you are busy.”

Her daughter stepped back, examining her with eyes that Ling Qingge had trouble meeting, and then nodded. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Get some rest, Mother. You deserve it.”

And like that, Ling Qi was gone, a flash of shadow and a rustle of the dining room curtain the only sign of her passage. Biyu was asleep in the bed prepared for her, and so for the first time in many days, Ling Qingge was alone.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a shuddering breath. It was hard to accept that this was real. Ling Qingge had thought herself prepared for what it meant to have a cultivator for a daughter. After all, she had some experience. The guardsmen she had served were not so different than mortal men, though the bruises they left often lasted longer. So a cultivator was stronger, perhaps, and with an intensity and vigor that normal folk lacked but not fundamentally different.

She could remember her great uncle, the clan head of the He, a graying man said to be nearly two hundred years old. But even the authoritative patriarch she recalled from her early memories paled in comparison to her daughter. For all that he had seemed an unshakable pillar of the clan, he was still just a man. Her daughter on the other hand... It was difficult to describe.

Ling Qingge had felt Ling Qi before she had seen her, a presence like the first kiss of winter cold drifting on the fall wind, like the feeling in one’s bones when the rains were coming and the mist would soon drift in, casting the world into a dreamlike haze. That feeling had only intensified upon seeing her, and it made Ling Qingge wonder. The old judge who had visited her did not seem so intense, save for a moment when he had dismissed a frivolous excuse from one of her creditors. Was making oneself seem human merely a skill her daughter lacked or did she simply not see any reason to bother?

She supposed, if she still knew her daughter, that it was more likely that the girl simply wouldn't have considered the matter. Ling Qingge could not quite put into words what made her daughter seem inhuman now. Perhaps it was the too quick movements of her limbs, the faint glow in her eyes, or even the strange way that she breathed, so slow and shallow, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible to the eye. A hundred little things made Ling Qi seem more like a spirit from a cautionary tale than a young girl.

Yet it had all faded away when they embraced. Beneath the cold and unsettling breeze, Ling Qi was warm and welcoming, a blazing hearth on a cold winter night. Embracing her reminded Ling Qingge of better times and uncorrupted memories of her own long deceased mother, singing her to sleep while the cold southern winds rattled the shutters. She had accepted it then, that this strange spirit girl truly was her daughter.

If only she could feel confident that she could be a mother to such a person.

Reaching the pantry, she began to absentmindedly look through the things she had been given, eventually plucking a bundle of tea leaves from the little drawer that contained them. The variety made her shake her head. How long had it been since she could afford anything but the cheapest blends?

It made her wonder where she would have stood today, if she had not been so foolish all those years ago. Objectively, Ling Qingge knew that she had made the wrong choice back then. Whatever rumors that the servants spun of Master Fong, it would have been better to submit. One rough man would have been preferable to an endless parade of them. Perhaps she might have even had a modicum of respect

Would Ling Qi have been exalted for her talent, a respected rising star within the House of Liu? The Liu had been the only place where she had ever glimpsed those with a presence like her daughter’s. She thought of her daughter’s smile then and her bright blue eyes. Even touched by ice, they brought to mind another set. Her lips twisted into a scowl as she retrieved everything she would need to prepare her tea.

That man… Even now, thinking of Ling Qi’s father made her heart hurt. It made her wonder if seeing those eyes and that smile had made her harsher than she should have been with her young daughter’s poor attention span and flighty demeanor. He had promised her so much. He had promised to take her far away from the petty politics of Tonghou. Then one morning, he had simply never arrived. He had lied. His caravan had been scheduled to leave the night before.

She supposed that in the end, it was a silly thing to consider. The past could not be changed, and Ling Qi would not be the same girl with a different father. Besides, she had apparently hitched her fortune to the House of Cai.

That alone was an absurd thought, making the situation all the more surreal. Dukes and duchesses were as far beyond the Liu as the Liu were the He. Ling Qingge could still recall the day that the Duchess had come to Tonghou when she was a young girl of six. She could remember huddling between Mother and Father in the family compound with the rest of the mortal members of the clan, and although she had never seen the Duchess Cai, she could remember the terrible, crushing presence that had descended upon the upper ring of the city and lingered there, oppressive and heavy, making it difficult to so much as breathe.

Some tiny part of her, the part that had taken a certain vicious pleasure in seeing those Liu lapdogs driven off like whipped dogs by the old judge, imagined her father's expression if he knew now where her daughter stood. It was only a small part for Ling Qingge had long moved past such childish fancies.There were far more imminent concerns.

She feared for her daughter, feared that her little deity would offend one far greater and suffer all the more for it. She was afraid that this dream would shatter and leave her once more at the cruel mercy of the men of Tonghou.

What could she do though? She was just an old and soiled woman, here only because her daughter still retained some affection for her despite her failures. Ling Qingge had nothing to offer, nothing to do. At best, she could give some feeble advice and listen to whatever woes her daughter deigned to share.

All of this was more than she deserved, and if not for Biyu’s sake, she might have refused the offer to come to the Sect out of a simple shame. She could not imagine that associating with her would do much for her daughter’s standing in the eyes of her peers.

Yet how could she be anything but pleased to have her family whole once more?

Truly, Ling Qingge thought as she began to prepare her tea, she was a selfish woman, through and through.

Bonus Chapter: Alone

Ling Qi was learning so quickly. It was a proud thing, Zeqing thought, for a teacher to see a student excel. She had taken so very easily to the Frozen Soul Serenade, the art which she had shaped from the very core of what she was.

It lit warmth in her heart every time that girl mastered a lesson. Every time she completed an exercise. Warmth that existed in contradiction to her nature, existing where there should have only been emptiness and cold.

“Momma, did I do good today?”

Zeqing pulled the portion of attention she had placed in her avatar from the retreating back of the human girl descending the mountain, and focused on her daughter. Hanyi stood beside her, toying with the hem of her gown. Pale blue eyes looked up to her for approval.

Ice crystalized in the shadows of her sleeve, and transparent crystalline fingers came to rest on her daughter’s head. A twist of qi reshaped her facsimile of a face into a soft smile. “You’ve done well, Hanyi.”

Her daughter smiled, leaning into her touch, and this too brought her that wonderful, addictive warmth. Her daughter's smile was a precious thing.

Those twin warmths burned painfully in her breast. Yet she craved it, more than anything else in this world.

Zeqing withdrew the majority of self from her avatar. Her world expanded from a little chasm with a pool of frozen darkness at its heart, and the being that called herself Zeqing beheld the whole of her domain, from the lowest stones on which snow fell, to the high peak that pierced the clouds. A part of her remained there in that phantasm, beside her daughter. Another part observed the human girl descending the mountain. Still others trailed in the cold winds that circled the peak, observing the beasts and spirits of her realm.

The painful warmth remained.

She was damaged, Zeqing knew, and had been for a very long time. Since the day that she had let that man into her home, all of those uncounted years ago.

But things were changing so quickly now. What had once been an ancient scar bled freely once again. Ever since that chatty moon avatar had come, near half a century ago. Poking, prodding, intruding. Annoyance gave way to interest as they talked, turning her attention from the lonely peak and it’s occasional intruders.

Zeqing still felt some bewilderment, remembering how she had convinced her to release the spark of life that she had held within herself since the day of betrayal. How she had been convinced to tear open her own wound.

It would make her less lonely if her daughter was born, Xin had said.

She had been right, Zeqing could acknowledge. But it was so difficult. Even as she observed Hanyi, skipping along a cliffside ahead of her avatar, Zeqing felt the stirring of her Truth, stirred by the warmth in her core.

She wanted to devour her.

Separated from Zeqing, the piece of self she had invested in the child called out, urging her to return to wholeness. To cease risking the loss inherent in allowing her daughter to exist.

And it was only growing worse. Now there was a second. She recalled the first time she had met Ling Qi a human child who bore a sliver of Winter in her core, born from cold memory. She had offered tutelage on a whim, convinced, as Xin had said, to ‘try something new’.

She had learned the pride of a teacher. Then that foolish child had all but offered herself up, unheeding of the danger. She could have taken her, that day on the mountaintop, her storms keeping back the girl’s pursuer. No pact with the Sect would have stopped her from claiming a disciple who had so foolishly put themselves in her power.

She could have consumed her, and had another daughter in truth. Could have fulfilled her wish for a [Mother] who could protect her. Could have ensured that she would never be alone again, [Hers] for all time.

At least until even that much separation became overwhelming.

Hanyi too was changing. Every day she lived, she became less [Zeqing’s child] and more [Herself]. She was learning now, growing beyond the framework Zeqing had born her into. Zeqing herself was accelerating it with her lessons.

She needed to keep what was hers.

She wanted her daughter to be happy.

She wanted her student to prosper.

Zeqing, [The Songstress of Endings] shuddered, and the wind screamed in fury, tearing at the mountain peak with all of a blizzard's fury. Below, on the mountain, a girl paused and looked up, shading her eyes as the wind pulled at the hem of her gowns. On a high cliffside, a confused child turned back to her Mother, who had stopped dead, frozen and still.

The wound in her Way that had been born when a man had convinced her to conceive life, widened just a little further.

She was a Mother, who wanted to protect and love her daughter.

She was a teacher, and took joy in her student’s success.

She was a fragment of Endings. Left behind in the retreat of southern glaciers, before ever human eyes had beheld the peaks. Her nature was the cold emptiness left behind in the absence of all else.

She should resent Xin, she knew. To ease her loneliness was a contradiction in terms. However…

Zeqing’s attention collapsed inward.

“Are you alright Momma?” Hanyi asked, concern on her childish face.

“I am well enough my daughter,” Zeqing said softly. “Let us return home. I tire.”

“Okay!” Hanyi said brightly. “Do you think you can read me more of the book Auntie Xin brought?”

“That is acceptable,” Zeqing said, dipping her head. She reached out, and hanyi took her crystalline hand.

“Will you do the voices too?” Hanyi asked as they soared into the sky, borne on the wind and the snow.

“I do not see why not,” Zeqing said softly. It took so little to bring happiness to a child.

The warmth burned. The darkness hungered.

How long, Zeqing wondered, could want outstrip need?

Chapter 171-Family 3

“So, do you think I should be concerned?” Ling Qi asked, balancing on her toes atop one of the thinnest pillars in Cai’s training grounds. She had made enemies in the Sect, and she worried for her frail mortal family.

“No, most likely not,” Cai Renxiang replied. She was seated cross-legged on a much wider pillar, the wide blade of her saber laid across her knees. “While true feuds merit such concerns, it would be highly irregular for mere Sect competition to endanger outside parties,” she continued. “Breaking the Sect’s protection in such a way would demand a harsh response.”

Ling Qi nodded. She had thought so when reviewing the Sect’s rules, but it was good to receive confirmation. She carefully threaded qi up from her precariously balanced toes to slowly spin out into the many rings of her armor. It was slow going, fighting against the stony mountain qi that suffused this place. While this place wasn’t specifically good for cultivating wood-aspected qi, its nature did provide resistance that was useful for refining control.

“I’m glad. I think I will still be adding more security to the house anyway.”

“It cannot do harm,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “However, in the future, unless you wish to walk the path of a professional formations artist, you will want to contract such work out.”

She narrowed her eyes then huffed, knowing that the serious girl did not mean any insult to her skills. Ling Qi could admit that formations were more of a hobby than a serious part of her skillset. Well, crafting them; she thought she was quite good at breaking them.

“Will I be troubled for what I did?” Ling Qi asked.

“Any who would begrudge you a filial greeting to your Mother will already have a low opinion of you due to your lack of pedigree,” Cai said bluntly. “Simply be aware of such things, and act accordingly.” She stood smoothly, her saber now grasped in her right hand. “Did your review of my tax collectors go well?”

Ling Qi nodded shallowly as dark green qi coalesced, a shell hovering just over her skin, patterned like ancient bark. “They never saw me,” she said. “More specifically, they didn’t recognize me.” Her skills at disguise had been left to rust somewhat so it was good to get some practice. “Not that I mind, but the task was kind of sudden. Why did you decide to check in on them now?”

“It does officials well to be inspected both openly and secretly,” the heiress explained, running her finger along the blade of her saber. “It is one of the duties you will have in the future as well.”

Ling Qi sighed and hopped over to a slightly wider pillar where she could put both feet down. “I wrote up what I saw. Did you want that now?” That kind of thing was somewhat boring; she wasn’t sure how she felt about having to spend time watching coin counting types do their thing. She knew what Cai would say though; if she didn’t feel that doing a job herself was the best use of her time, she would just have to find a competent, loyal subordinate for it.

“When we are finished here,” Cai replied evenly. “Are your defenses prepared?”

Ling Qi felt the heavy wood-natured qi thrumming along her spine, layers of defense spun in the air over her body, and nodded. Even then, it was difficult to fight her instinct to dodge when Cai’s heavy saber crashed down on her like an avalanche. She was forced to flex her knees, bending with the power of the blow as she caught it on her crossed forearms. The sharp report of the stone cracking under her feet rang in her ears as she pushed herself back, leaping to a thicker and sturdier pillar.

Cai didn’t give her any reprieve, and this time, the edge of her blade burned with heavenly light, carving a blinding arc through the air as it struck her side, eliciting a grunt of pain as it carved through the layer of verdant armor conjured by the Deepwood Vitality technique with a high-pitched metallic shriek. Even then, the slash failed to draw blood. Ling Qi moved with the power behind the blow, letting it fling her a few meters to the side to alight on another platform.

“Such a defense,” Cai mused, standing with her blade in both hands on the pillar where Ling Qi had been standing. “One would not expect it of you.”

“That is the idea of training this. Besides, why not be able to dodge and block?” Ling Qi replied, renewing her defensive arts and feeling her way toward the refinements that would carry her to the next level of mastery in Thousand Ring Fortress. She was still a survivor at heart, whatever other trappings she might have picked up.

“An admirable view, if one has the dedication to cultivate both. Allow me to apologize for underestimating your ability.” For a wonder, there was a note of genuine contriteness in the other girl's voice. Ling Qi didn’t find it comforting though. They were both limiting themselves, Ling Qi to defense and her Argent arts and Cai to her saber arts, but…

Cai Renxiang blurred in her vision, and Ling Qi flung herself to the side as the white gowned heiress crashed down on her previous position, splitting the top of the pillar in twain under the force of her strike. Ling Qi raised her arms into the stance of the Argent Storm as rock tumbled down into the water below and Cai’s blazing saber carved an arc of molten light through the air toward her side. The power of the blow sent a jolt of pain up her arm as she deflected it and struck out with her free hand, a boom of thunder accompanying the blow.

She struck Cai just below the ribs and winced as she felt her knuckles bruise. She may as well have punched a solid block of steel. She had only a moment to react as Cai turned her deflection into a spinning chop, her long hair fanning out behind her as Ling Qi was once again forced to cross her arms in a hard double block. She felt bruises forming across her forearms as she was flung downward, cracking the side of the pillar her feet impacted against as she caught herself. A few graceful leaps between pillars carried her back to the top where Cai waited patiently for her.

Her arms already felt like jelly. Ling Qi grimaced. Still, this was only a spar so her liege waited patiently as she caught her breath.

“You know,” Ling Qi grumbled, shaking her right arm to return feeling to her hands, “why is it that you’re the one of only a few disciples I’ve seen with a saber? It sure seems effective.”

“The straight sword is considered the more noble weapon, complex, elegant, and beautiful in motion,” Cai Renxiang said serenely, the light behind her sparkling pleasantly. Ling Qi thought she was enjoying this. “In contrast, the single-edged blade is a commoner's weapon, developed from tools rather than created as a weapon whole cloth.” She flicked the curved saber in her left hand, flinging the rock dust that had accumulated on its gleaming surface away. “My honored Mother disagrees with that notion, that there can be no beauty or depth to the saber’s motion,” Cai continued, bringing her hands back together in her two-handed starting stance. “She is correct in this, I think.”

Cai’s motions didn’t have Meizhen’s sinuous grace or Sun Liling’s frenetic motion, but Ling Qi could see her point. Cai’s attacks brought to mind an avalanche that she had watched from a high cliff with Zeqing, the unstoppable flow of tonnes of snow and rock rumbling downward.

“I can hardly disagree, but melee weapons are not my strong point,” Ling Qi replied.

Cai inclined her head fractionally. “Your skill at archery should be sufficient to silence detractors in that regard. As a matter of status, you will want to reach at least a mortal’s mastery in one of the four noble weapons in the future,” she said without recrimination. “Are you prepared to continue?”

Ling Qi nodded, resuming a fighting stance. “Yeah. You can go a little harder though.” She knew she would regret those words, but Meizhen had shown her that she grew the quickest when fear was in her thoughts.

“I see,” Cai Renxiang said thoughtfully. “Very well. I will cease holding back.”

***

That set the tone for her training that week between hard sessions with Cai and increasingly strict lessons with Zeqing. Zeqing seemed to regard her growing mastery of Frozen Soul Serenade with a sliver of pride that only made her an even harder taskmistress. Ling Qi found her singing abilities growing quickly under Zeqing’s effort, and though she couldn’t match the snow woman’s haunting, heart-stirring voice, she knew that her singing was probably better than any mortal could hope to be at this point.

In her rest periods, she made sure to continue visiting her mother regularly, helping her settle into her new home. There were some moments of awkwardness when Ling Qi displayed inhuman ability, such as entering via a second floor window, hefting an entire wardrobe without strain, and other such things. It was so easy to forget the limits of what a mortal could do after spending most of a year immersed in cultivation. Taking little Biyu for a short flight probably didn’t do Mother’s heart much good either, even if the little girl had been overjoyed.

She would be more careful in the future.

Another relaxing session in the White Room was enough to unseal another of her meridians and ensure that she would have Zeqing’s art available at all times. Ling Qi was feeling more confident in her abilities than ever.

This made the difficulties with Zhengui all the more frustrating.

“Don’t wanna practice anymore,” Gui muttered rebelliously, scuffing at the grass with one of his front limbs. “It’s boring, Big Sister. Can’t we do something fun?”

“Hmph. Lazy Gui is right,” Zhen hissed, looking incredibly bored and a bit hungry. “For once.”

Over the course of the week, Ling Qi had found her spirit’s cultivation plateauing. With all of his basic abilities worked out, there was only the long haul of polishing his abilities a little bit at a time, and Ling Qi was being swiftly reminded that Zhengui really was a child still. It didn’t help that he was surrounded by tasty things he couldn’t sample in the vale. Still, this was the first time he had really defied her like this.

“It might be boring, but it’s important,” Ling Qi scolded, looking down on Zhengui with her best disappointed expression, the way Zeqing did when Hanyi was slacking off. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be able to protect me?”

“But Gui is already tough and strong!” the tortoise protested, craning his neck to look up at her.

“And Zhen’s fang’s are sharp! Big Sister should hunt with us instead,” Zhen added.

It really was odd, this rebellion. Ling Qi narrowed her eyes, studying the young spirit and the emotions she could feel through their bond. “... Zhengui, are you jealous?”

Gui shuffled his feet, looking ashamed, but Zhen met her eyes defiantly, sparks dancing in the air around his flickering tongue. “Big Sister does not need to play with the Ugly River Eel. Big Sister should play with Zhengui.”

Ling Qi’s eyebrow twitched as she heard the rumbling of the water in the river behind her. She spun around, jabbing a finger in the direction of the looming reptilian beast rising from the waters. “Do not even start!”

“You expect me to simply accept such an insult?” Heizui scoffed. “There are limits to my hospitality, human!”

“He is a child,” Ling Qi replied flatly, not letting her gaze waver. “Is your pride truly so fragile?”

“Zhen is not a child!” the ashen serpent hissed petulantly, making Ling Qi frown more deeply.

“You see, the little worm is an adult. Let him speak his insults without clutching your skirts, human,” Heizui taunted.

“You will both stop,” Ling Qi snapped, shooting the dragon a dirty look before turning back to face Zhengui. “Gui, I am disappointed. I worked hard to give you the opportunity to train here. You are going to make your Big Sister sad if you waste the chance.” The tortoise looked down, chastised. “Zhen, do you think I will be happy if you start a fight you cannot win?”

“Zhen can-” the serpent began, affronted.

“You can’t,” Ling Qi interrupted bluntly. “Heizui is nearly as strong as me.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the smug expression the dragon had developed since she began scolding Zhengui sour. “Do you think you can beat your Big Sister?”

Zhen still looked defiant for a moment, but then his head drooped. At mid yellow, Zhengui was still quite a ways from taking on a green realm. “... No.”

“Then you need to keep working hard,” Ling Qi said, crossing her arms. “You are going to have to help me fight many strong opponents. I do not want you to get hurt, so you need to toughen yourself. If you do want to do fun things, you will just have to make progress, won’t you?”

“Sorry, Big Sister,” they apologized. Ling Qi detected only minimal sulkiness. If Zhengui worked hard for the rest of the week, she would give him a break to do something fun though.

Ling Qi turned back to Heizui as Zhengui got back to training. “And you,” she said, glaring up at the dragon, “do you not have anything better to do? You aren’t going to get stronger by lazing around, staring at Zhengui and I.”

“I am ensuring the little glutton does not damage anything,” Heizui scoffed, sinking back down into the water.

Ling Qi gave him an unimpressed look. “I am sure,” she said blandly. “Zhengui is a good boy, and I am here. You should stop slacking off.”

“You speak as if you are not doing the same. Do you not owe me a song, human?” Heizui shot back, baring his fangs at her.

“Which I will give you later,” Ling Qi replied. “And my name is Ling Qi. There is no need to speak to me that way.” She raised her chin a bit to give the impression of looking down on him. “If you want to hang around, you can at least contribute. Zhengui could use something to defend against.”

“Oh?” Heizui asked imperiously. “Not afraid that I would hurt the precious little child?” Ling Qi saw Zhen twitch, but her spirit didn’t speak up beyond some low grumbling.

“I trust that you will be reasonable, or I will have to tell your Honorable Mother that you are bullying children instead of training.” It was a bluff. She could give a message to Zeqing, but she had no idea if the elder dragon would even care.

Heizui just grumbled, and Ling Qi shrugged, turning back to Zhengui. Her own mastery of the Thousand Ring Fortress art was useful in instructing him on improving his defenses.

By the next day’s session, her efforts bore fruit, and the young dragon deigned to join in. Heizui seemed to enjoy irritating Zhen, and Ling Qi didn’t see a reason to stop it. The dragon’s provocations inspired Zhen to cultivate hard. Gui’s determination was quieter, but after the first time the dragon bowled him over with minimal effort, he too doubled down on his training.

Ling Qi was pleased with the results. Zhengui was becoming quite durable.

Chapter 172-Hidden 1

The mouth of the cavern yawned before her, and the twisting maze of bent space extended behind. It was finally time to plumb the depths of the cavern she found on her moon given map.

“Are you ready, Zhengui?” she asked.

“Yes!” Zhengui agreed, his two heads speaking in unison.

“Gui has become good at being small,” Gui chirped proudly.

“Lady Cui is a good teacher,” Zhen agreed.

Lady Cui, huh? Ling Qi thought wryly. That was a new one. She supposed it wasn’t incorrect since Cui was Meizhen’s cousin.

“Why don’t you show me?” she prompted. Zhengui mastering the common beast technique of compressing his size was integral not just for exploring this particular cave but also for her plans to introduce him to the rest of her mortal family.

Two sets of eyes closed, and Zhengui seemed to vibrate in place with the intensity of his concentration. After a moment, his outline shimmered, and he shrank, more than halving his size. His shell was only a little over a meter long, making him much more portable.

“Ugh. Gui does not like how this feels.”

“Hmph. Do not complain to Big Sister,” Zhen hissed. “We are doing well!”

“You are,” Ling Qi agreed, crouching down to pat him on the heads. “Can you stay like that in a fight?”

“Of course,” Zhen said haughtily.

“Maybe?” Gui said at the same time with much less certainty.

Ling Qi raised a hand to stop them before they could start bickering. “It’s okay. Just stay close and support me, okay?” In the worst case scenario, she would just dematerialize him if he got stuck.

With his enthusiastic agreement, Ling Qi turned her eyes back to the cave entrance. The mountain stone was dark grey, nearly black, and the entrance was a jagged crack like the maw of a beast. Stepping inside, she stilled as the ambient noise of the wilderness outside vanished. She glanced down at Zhengui, who looked up at her eagerly. Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention back to the cave and continued.

The tunnels boring into the earth were narrow and twisted, and with each step she took, the scent of rot and decay grew. Pale, slimy fungus sprouted on the walls, and hanging sheets of fleshy moss hung from the ceiling. At the edge of her hearing, she could hear a faint buzzing, a susurrus of noise like a million tiny voices whispering unintelligibly. As they descended, it only grew louder and louder, causing her to clutch her flute more tightly and peer into every nook and branching tunnel with suspicious eyes.

Soon, the buzzing began to grow more omnipresent, and black dots began to drift through her vision. Little gnats and flies circled and dove at her as if attempting to bite. A minor fluctuation of the wind was enough to keep them away.

But their numbers grew.

Ling Qi’s irritation began to turn into concern as individual dots began to turn into swirling blots and clouds of black insects, crawling, buzzing, and flying from every crevice in the earthy passage. She raised her flute in consideration. Should she summon her mist and her dissonance constructs? Could the phantoms even effectively attack targets so small? These weren’t just mundane bugs that could be ignored; there was a gathering pattern of qi, drawn by the erratic movements of the swarming insects.

“Gross bugs should go away and leave Big Sister and Zhen alone!” She blinked as her little brother spoke up followed by a wave of heat. Hot grey ash blew out on the hot breeze, and swarming insects fell from their air, slain by heat or clumped together by sticky ash. Not a single flake clung to Ling Qi despite the continuous flow of ash rising from Zhengui’s faintly glowing shell.

Well, it looked like she had forgotten to take someone important into account. Ling Qi shot Zhengui a smile over her shoulder. “Good job. Do you think you can keep this up whenever too many of them start swarming?”

“Yes,” Gui chirped. “Gui will not get tired for a long time.”

“It was I, Zhen, who did it,” his other half complained.

“Nuh uh, Zhen cannot make ash without Gui!” the tortoise shot back.

“Keep it down,” Ling Qi chided lightly. “Let’s continue.”

With the problem of the swarming insects solved, they were able to proceed more quickly, only pausing now and then to let Zhengui produce another cloud of burning ash. It was a good thing that Zhengui was able to free up her attention from such distractions too because the spatial distortions which hid the cave only grew worse the further they descended. Narrow tunnels gave way to low ceiling caverns overgrown with luminescent fungus, and in the narrow paths that lay between columns of moisture slick limestone, the world bent. She would take a single step and find herself facing in the opposite direction in an area she had previously passed or looking out into an entirely unfamiliar cavern. It had greatly alarmed Zhengui the first time she had disappeared.

The path was not the only problem either. The cavern system seemed unpleasantly alive, and fungus, earth, and stone alike rose to bar her passage. Beneath her feet, the ground would split open into maws studded with teeth of glittering quartz, and fronds and slimy fungal tendrils snatched at her dress and hair, spreading clouds of choking spores.

Together, she and Zhengui persevered. The Hoarfrost Caress of the Frozen Soul Serenade echoed through the caverns, and plants and fungi alike froze solid, leaving sculptures of pale blue ice in her wake. The tough fibrous roots that Zhengui was able to call into existence at will bound shut mouths of stone and created platforms they could walk across when the solid floor gave way to black chasms.

As they ventured deeper, Ling Qi began to find signs of human work. She saw shattered gateways which had once blocked up passages now worn to mere bumps in the walls and the faint outlines of weathered carvings on scattered stones. With Zhengui watching her back, she studied them carefully, avoiding the hazy web of semi-functional defensive formations that still clung to the broken stones, to understand where to head to next.

It was hours and many unpleasant encounters later that they finally reached an intact gate. Ling Qi’s hair was sticky with sap and stranger fungal emissions, though her dress was incongruously clean. Any stain that touched it had melted or boiled away in seconds, and no thorn or sharp stone had been able to tear the fabric. Even a brief dip inside of some kind of underground pitcher plant had not been enough to put a single thread out of place. Clearly, the upgrade from Cai Renxiang’s dress had greatly increased her dress’ capabilities.

Zhengui was a little worse for the wear. He was walking more slowly, tired from using his abilities so much, and a few scratches glowing with white hot blood marked Zhen’s scales. But the wounds were mere scrapes and already in the process of scabbing over. Ling Qi had checked thoroughly before allowing Zhengui to continue to accompany her.

“Is this the bottom, Big Sister?” Gui asked plaintively.

“Let’s hope so,” Ling Qi said tiredly. Although she still had plenty of qi, mentally, she was feeling fatigued. “Let’s do it like last time, okay? Stay ready, and let Big Sister study the gate.”

This gate, made of black wicker vines all woven together with a frame of formation-marked stone carved into the tunnel, was obviously a much more recent placement. It made it much more likely that this location was in fact a curated Sect site. She was still wary as she stepped forward to examine it though, expecting some kind of final trial.

However, to her surprise, as she stepped forward, the gate swung inward.

Before her lay a wide cavern which sloped swiftly downward, stone transforming into powdery white sand at the shore of a lake of viscous black fluid. It wasn’t water; Ling Qi was sure enough of that. The liquid was utterly opaque and glimmered strangely under the faint light of glowing lichen that coated the ceiling.

At the center of the lake lay an island of stone rising from the black muck. The island was littered with yellowed human bones, which carpeted the ground in such numbers that there was nothing visible beneath them. Some of the skulls seemed strangely shaped, making her wonder if human was the right term. They didn’t hold her attention though.

In the center of the island was a single corpse lashed to a twisted pillar of rotting wood. Roots and branches speared their way between bones and intertwined with mummified flesh, and black flowers bloomed from empty eye sockets. Vines wound around the figure, holding it so that it would not fall, even in death. The corpse was taller than a normal man, and a pair of pronged, branching horns growing backwards sprouted from its temples. A spear of gleaming jade taller than Ling Qi was planted in the rock and bones to its right.

Most importantly, she could see the source of the black liquid. It seeped slowly from beneath the tattered, open-chested robe the corpse wore, running sluggishly downhill into the pool. More than anything she saw with her physical sight though, what Ling Qi could feel through her spiritual senses brought her up short. The fluid was liquid darkness, purer than the qi that flowed through her legs and spine. It was a sucking, hungry void drinking in even the simple qi of air and rock.

Something like this had to be known by the Sect, and for all that Ling Qi’s eyes were drawn to that spear of master-crafted jade, alight with the power that slept within it, she was not stupid. For something like that to have laid here untouched for so long, it must be defended, and the fractal web of twisted energies surrounding the island supported her feeling.

“Zhengui, can you give me a root?” she asked absently.

Zhengui trundled up beside her, staring out over the lake with a disquiet. “Yes, Big Sister,” he agreed, his eyes never leaving the corpse, and from the muddy stone rose a single green shoot of new grown wood.

Ling Qi murmured a thanks and snapped off the end of the root. With a single light toss, she threw it out over the lake. Less than halfway to the island, the green root seemed to fly through a distortion in the air. Green faded to brown, and then to black, and then wrinkled black wood crumbled to dust.

It all happened in less than the blink of an eye.

Ling Qi’s gaze jerked away from the sight as a faint glow drew her eye then, and in the air above her head, she observed ghostly characters spelling out a message in smoke and light.

In solitude, even the mightiest Foundation crumbles.

Before you lies a memorial to this unshakeable fact.

Let not avarice blind you, and leave old graves undisturbed.

In Darkness, find your reward. Take no more than three treasures.

Ling Qi couldn’t help but smile. The Sect probably exploited this location for treasure materials themselves, and by discovering it, she had earned the right to take a few.

“What does it say, Big Sister?” Gui asked guilelessly.

Ling Qi blinked and looked down at him. Of course, Zhengui couldn’t read. She filed that away as something to look into in the future when her time was less constrained. “It says to stay away from the island and to only take three treasures from the lake.”

“Gui thinks that is a good idea. Nightmare of Burning Glade is spooky,” Gui said gravely.

“Nightmare of Burning Glade?” Ling Qi asked.

“That is the bony thing’s Name. It is much bigger than Zhen,” the serpent answered, his normal haughtiness subdued. “So big that Zhen cannot see it all.”

Ling Qi turned her eyes back to the skeleton and to the blooming black flowers that grew from its eye sockets. For the first time since she had begun cultivating Zeqing’s art, Ling Qi felt a chill.

“Let me just collect my treasures then,” Ling Qi said, tearing her eyes away. Carefully, she moved down to the shore and peered into the liquid darkness.

She dearly wished that she had Meizhen here with her to appraise the shapes she could feel within the oily liquid, but in the end, she could only trust her own instincts as she waded into the shallows of the lake.

In the end, she fished out a shard of frozen darkness that seemed like a miniature hole in the world, a hard, leathery pod that she had snatched from something growing in the dark liquid, and a pane of reflective material from the muddy bottom of the lake. Ling Qi would have to research her findings and perhaps ask Meizhen for confirmation, but she suspected that she had found a material that could serve as the base for her domain weapon.

Returning to the exit of the cave, Ling Qi cast a glance up at the moonless night sky. The calm and contemplative lunar qi of the new moon was a different thing than the wild chaos of the Dreaming Moon or the slippery insubstantiality of the Grinning. But with her storage ring full of high grade treasure, Ling Qi had to admit that there was a certain appeal to it. The Hidden Moon, who oversaw secret knowledge and investigation, was not the most obvious of patrons, but she thought she had made a good choice all the same.

After all, weren’t the most valuable things in the world often secrets?

Chapter 173-Hidden 2

Ling Qi still found it odd that Meizhen considered something so common as fishing to be a noble hobby.

“So you’ve found more treasures then?” Meizhen asked calmly from her seat at the lakeside, her white gown untouched by stains of dirt or grass. Meizhen glanced only briefly at Ling Qi as she sat down beside her friend, her own gown billowing around her legs in a faint breeze.

“It’s less fun when you don’t react,” Ling Qi complained half-heartedly after she had finished retelling her expedition.

“I am no longer surprised by your fortune,” Bai Meizhen said dryly. “And you did sound quite certain when we left the market. As for the rest, I do not find it shocking that the Sect has access to a Weilu tomb. That clan left many ruins.”

“Weilu?” Ling Qi asked curiously. “I came across that name a few times looking around, but the books never explained what it was.”

“The Weilu were the rulers of Emerald Seas during the time before the Sage,” Meizhen explained. “They were the Horned Lords of the South and also the first of the founding families to fall.”

Ling Qi frowned, feeling slightly alarmed. “Ah, is that so? I didn’t mean to do anything so disrespectful. I assumed the corpse was a barbarian or a spirit.” She was surprised the Sect would so easily allow the defilement of the tomb of such an important figure.

“The overwhelming pride and isolationist nature of the Weilu was well known. Few were sad to see them fall. I feel no offense. The Bai do not worship the dead the way others do,” her friend replied, and Ling Qi boggled at how bad the Weilu’s pride must have been for a Bai to comment on it. “I presume if the Sect allowed you entry that there is no crime against propriety either.”

Ling Qi nodded readily enough, dismissing the subject for now; ancient history was just that. With a flick of her wrist, she expressed her first treasure, the one which had called to her most strongly. The shard of blackness was the length of her forearm with the texture of smooth rock. She held it gingerly, not wanting to cut her fingers on the edge as she had done when dredging it up. The way it had drunk in her blood was unsettling.

“Well, anyway, I wanted you to take a look at this. I think this will make a good material for my flying sword from what I’ve read in the Archives.”

Meizhen looked her way fully, examining the length of black material held across her open hands. “I do not disagree. I suppose you were able to pick out the grade?”

“After some studying, yeah.” Ling Qi grimaced. Reading the auras of objects in such detail was hard. “It’s fourth grade material, right?”

“Only just,” Meizhen replied. “Yet it is still above the resources one would expect of a new baronial clan. It is likely that you will not be able to fully access the power of a weapon crafted with it as you are.”

“Like with your own sword,” Ling Qi mused. She knew her friend was still teasing out its abilities, but Meizhen’s sword came from the scale of a seventh grade spirit beast, so that was to be expected. She dismissed the shard, frowning at the oily, clinging sensation it left in her hands as if trying to drag her qi into the ring with it. “If you agree that it’s good, I’ll ask Lady Cai to contact a craftsman.”

As she spoke, she drew gingerly on the energies of another treasure.

“What about this?” she asked, expressing the mirror pane. She avoided looking down at the grinning skull it reflected back. “I couldn’t find anything in the Archive on this.”

Her friend’s lips briefly curled in disgust. “Fourth Grade as well, but I would not suggest keeping it. Death qi is notoriously unwieldy and unpleasant.” Meizhen looked away, and Ling Qi noticed unsettlingly that the mirror did not reflect her friend as a worn skeleton but as a pair of greedy golden eyes staring up from a pit of abyssal dark. “You would do well to contact an auction and use the proceeds to fund your fief and cultivation, but if you must use it, a ward against curses and spiritual assaults would be the best use.”

Ling Qi dismissed the mirror back into her ring. “What makes death qi worse than any other uncommon element?” Ling Qi asked

Meizhen was silent then shook her head. “Life and death mark a cultivator more deeply than other elements and with less investment. I will say no more on the matter,” she said with a note of finality.

Ling Qi nodded. To be frank, the mirror made her skin crawl. She would probably follow Meizhen’s advice.

The last treasure, she had sussed out herself. The withered grey pod was filled with thorny black seeds. They were from a third realm plant, and in the future, she could probably have them cultivated to sell the proceeds. That would only come after she had received land though so they would remain in storage for some time yet.

Falling silent for a time, Ling Qi observed her friend out of the corner of her eye, noting the slight signs of tension and stress visible. There was another reason she had arranged to meet Meizhen.

“May I ask what has been troubling you lately?” she asked, leaning back to look up at the darkening sky. “You haven’t even been having your tea in the mornings lately. I kind of miss you, you know?”

Meizhen didn’t visibly react to her words, and the silence between them stretched. “Familial concerns. There is nothing which you might help with.”

Ling Qi held back a grimace, glancing at her friend again. “Maybe not, but if it’s nothing secret… I can still listen,” she offered carefully. She didn’t want to press too hard and offend Meizhen.

She caught a faint sigh from the pale girl. “I have learned that my Aunt Suzhen will be coming to observe my performance at the tournament,” Meizhen explained quietly. “I do not wish to disappoint her when she is taking time from her important duties for such a frivolous thing.” Meizhen paused a beat, her brows drawing together. “My father will be coming as well,” she added as an afterthought.

“I’m not sure where the problem is,” Ling Qi responded with a frown. Meizhen rarely spoke of her family, but when she did, the aunt she admired was the one who came up. “You aren’t losing confidence in your ability to match Sun Liling, are you?”

“Not as such,” Bai Meizhen replied, not looking up. “I worry about what it means. Despite my childish wishes to be acknowledged by her, now the implications of it seem more dire.”

Ling Qi did her best to hold back an exasperated sigh. “You are going to have to explain that one to me.”

Meizhen shot her a disgruntled look, and Ling Qi felt a faint chill in the air, not born of any physical source. “Despite my dilute blood, I bear the colors of the White Serpent Queen. I am expected to have the ability to lead .Yet I would much prefer to simply cultivate in peace, rather than taking part in struggles for rank. Until now, I was largely able to do so because of my circumstances.”

Ling Qi began to understand. It was hard to remember that her friend's clan wasn’t just a family. Much like the other oldest clans, their members could fill several large cities on their own, if all the sub-clans and branches were considered. If she remembered the texts correctly, the Bai. in particular. had some kind of odd ranking system based on coloration and physical traits too. “So… you’re worried about getting drawn into your family’s politics more, win or lose?”

“It seems you are capable of listening,” Meizhen said tartly. “And so, I am torn between pride and concern for the future.”

“I do pay attention when you speak… most of the time,” Ling Qi shot back teasingly. “But all the same, you can only control your own actions.” Meizhen had not given her a positive impression of her peers in the Bai, though she only spoke about such things obliquely. “Do you really think you would have escaped that sort of thing forever?”

“No,” her friend said, closing her eyes. “In the wake of this last year, it simply seems real, rather than a far-off worry for the future. As it is, it is already too late for me to remain on the side of the struggles for position among my cousins.”

“Then you should be pleased that you’ll be starting with an advantage,” Ling Qi said firmly. “Will any of them have defeated the granddaughter of your clan's great enemy?

“That assumes my victory,” Meizhen pointed out dryly.

“If you lose, it’ll only be after you batter that top-heavy, bloodthirsty bimbo to the edge of death,” Ling Qi said crassly. “Do you really think that won’t count for anything?”

Ling Qi felt a thread of satisfaction as Meizhen gaped at her, the fishing pole in her hands drooping as she clapped a hand over her face. “Ling Qi, you cannot speak of a princess in that way! Were you not paying attention to a single thing I have taught you?”

Ling Qi thought this was a little rich considering that Meizhen called Sun Liling a “ barbarian,” but she supposed her friend was the one with higher status.

“I did. I just know how to ignore it when I need to break my friend out of a rut,” Ling Qi replied, sticking out her tongue childishly. “Seriously, Meizhen, do you have any reason to step off your Path at this point?”

“I never stated that my worries were a matter of logic,” Meizhen noted a bit waspishly, adjusting her grip on the slumping fishing pole.

“Sorry,” Ling Qi replied. “But I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“Of course you don’t,” her friend said with a faint shake of her head. “Still, even if I feel you underestimate the stakes involved… thank you for your encouragement.”

“I would be a poor friend if I didn’t at least try to cheer you up,” Ling Qi said before allowing silence to lapse for a time. “... On that note, do you think Cui has forgiven me yet?”

“I would not pin too many hopes on that, “Meizhen said dryly. “Perhaps in another year or two.”

Well, that was unfortunate, but at least Meizhen’s cousin didn’t seem to extend the grudge to Zhengui.

She stayed with Meizhen for the rest of the evening, quietly mediating. She departed the lakeside only when Meizhen did to spend the rest of the night intermittently cycling her qi and musing on new melodies.

Chapter 174-Training 1

The last notes of Ling Qi’s latest attempt at composition drifted away on the wind, sending their faint ripples through the flow of the world’s qi. Yet for all their technical perfection, Ling Qi remained unsatisfied with the work. The melody she was trying to compose still rang hollow in both her ears and her more spiritual senses.

“Looks like you still can’t quite manage upbeat, huh?” Sixiang said from where they lounged, resting against the spindly trunk of one of the scraggly trees that clung to the cliff face that overlooked the lower reaches of the mountain. “You’re such a gloomy girl,” they teased. The androgynous spirit wore a robe of pale rose pink today which hung open across the chest, leaving their current gender rather obvious.

“I am not gloomy,” Ling Qi shot back irritably. “Be serious. What is it I am lacking here? I wanted to compose something cheerful for Mother. Spring and summer motifs should be perfect for that, shouldn’t they?” While she hadn’t much free time this week, what she did have had been spent stopping in to at least greet Mother each day.

“Well,” Sixiang drawled, idly kicking their legs, unmindful of the scattering of stones sent tumbling down the crumbling cliffside. “Limiting yourself to mortal comprehension is quite a handicap, but I don’t really think that’s your problem. You’re not so far from the mortal world as all that.”

“Then what is?” Ling Qi asked, frustrated. “I’ve tried so many different forms and arrangements, but none of them seem right.”

“Like I said, you’re just a gloomy girl,” Sixiang replied matter-of-factly. “Of course you can’t give life to that kind of melody, thinking like you do.” They waved their hand flippantly. “Don’t get me wrong. You can arrange a few cheerful phrases, but that’s hardly the sort of optimism that you’re trying to convey, right?”

She gave the spirit a dirty look. “You’re really good at not answering questions properly, you know?”

Sixiang stuck out their tongue childishly. “If I was direct, I’d be one of those hard-nosed, pushy sun spirits.”

Ling Qi let out an annoyed huff but closed her eyes, surrendering the point. She meditated on her failures and Sixiang’s words. “... I just don’t think that way, do I?”.

“Yep,” Sixiang agreed. “You don’t have that kind of expectation that things will go well, so you can’t put it into song.”

Ling Qi grimaced. Sixiang’s assessment was true. Though things had been going well, better than she could have realistically hoped at the start of the year, some part of her was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the things she had built to come crashing down around her ears. For all that had happened in the last year and for all that she had changed… some mentalities were simply slow to fade.

“A different theme would probably work better for now,” Sixiang offered cheerfully, breaking Ling Qi out of her thoughts. “Changing yourself is slow going for a human, or so I’ve heard,” they said with an air of received wisdom.

“I suppose so,” Ling Qi said. “I’m still not gloomy,” she added, shooting a scowl at the relaxing spirit as she raised her flute to begin another attempt.

“Then why do you always dress like you’re headed to a funeral?” Sixiang teased. “You’re just missing the mourning veil.”

Ling Qi huffed and didn’t respond. So what if she wore somewhat somber colors? That didn’t make her gloomy. Besides, there was no point in wearing anything else given the quality of her Cai gown.

... She resolved not to express that to Xiulan lest the other girl drag her out for emergency shopping. Then again, that too was something that had faded; it was difficult to match the almost fanatically driven Xiulan of today to the one who would spend time frivolously poking around a tailor’s shop at the beginning of the year.

Ling Qi grimaced and dismissed the thought. They could all take a breath when the tournament was over. There were only two months left.

“See, I can practically see the cloud over your head,” Sixiang said lightly, drawing a snort from Ling Qi.

“Fine. Why don’t you show me how it’s done then?” Ling Qi shot back. “Since I apparently can’t manage.”

“Hmm… I suppose I can play a piece or two,” they mused, “if only to lighten the atmosphere a little.”

Ling Qi closed her own eyes as a set of reed pipes coalesced from shimmering mist in the spirit’s hands. Relaxing herself, she focused on the faster tempo of the song flowing from Sixiang’s pipes.

There was definitely something in the spirit’s notes that she lacked, but she knew that it wouldn’t be so simple as copying phrases and notes. For all that she was composing for her Mother, she couldn’t be satisfied by a piece that was only competent on a mortal level.

***

As much as she found herself enjoying trading melodies with the spirit, Ling Qi took her leave after some time with the promise to meet the spirit the next day and continue their exchange. Descending the mountain, Ling Qi then made her way toward Xiulan’s increasingly charred training grounds.

Xiulan’s mastery of her arts was growing pretty swiftly, she found. Even the girl’s lightest attacks burned blue with heat, and her stronger ones could be compared to Lady Cai’s light arts in appearance, if not in effect. Xiulan’s cultivation was doing well as well; Ling Qi noted that Xiulan had cultivated back to the peak of the second realm and her aura had the faint cracks of a breakthrough beginning to spread through it.

She spent the rest of the afternoon with her friend, and although she left feeling sweaty and overheated, she didn’t regret it. Xiulan mentioned that she would be busy with closed door cultivation in the immediate future though, so she would have to find a different training partner in the following week.

***

Over the course of the next few days, Ling Qi spent her time cultivating and performing Sect Missions to earn points for future tutoring. Most were trivial, although she did have a slightly more memorable time performing an exorcism of a haunted house. Still, all in all the time leading up to her next lesson with Zeqing was peaceful. Over the course of the week, she had felt that she was making good progress in further mastering the Serenade and improving her singing ability.

When she arrived at the black pool though, she found only Hanyi waiting. The little spirit was perched on the stone bench where she usually sat with Zeqing, kicking her bare feet idly when she arrived.

“Hiya, Big Sister,” the little spirit said cheerfully. She held a little snow mouse in one hand, caught by the tail. The beast squeaked and kicked as Hanyi poked at it, trying to escape the snow girl’s grasp. “Momma is gonna be a little late today. Auntie Xin came to talk about grown-up stuff.”

“That’s fine,” Ling Qi replied, glancing at the little girl’s prize, a weak first grade beast, as she seated herself on the bench beside her, the snow crunching faintly under her weight. “Hanyi, why are you… playing with that?”

The blue-skinned little girl blinked, looking up from the distressed animal trapped between her fingers. “Oh! I was being a good girl and practicing like Momma said,” she answered with a grin that cried out for praise as only a child’s could. “I caught the mousey ‘cause he couldn’t resist my voice!” She puffed her chest out proudly.

Ling Qi calmly patted the little spirit on her head. “Good job. You shouldn’t play around with it like that though,” she said, not wanting to make Hanyi get into a huff.

“Big Sister acts too much like Momma,” Hanyi complained. “But fine. I won’t play with my food anymore.” Ling Qi blinked, nonplussed. She had never seen either the mother or daughter spirits eat anything.

The mouse let out a strangled squeak and twitched violently then, frost spreading across its fur and skin as it visibly withered and blackened in the little spirit’s grasp like a corpse left to freeze on a mountaintop. Hanyi let out a delighted sound, and Ling Qi caught the slight shimmer in the air as she breathed in the stream of heat that arose from the beast’s remains.

“Hehe, don’t tell Momma I was snacking before dinner, okay, Big Sister?” Hanyi asked, looking up at her as she tossed the remains aside carelessly. The carcass landed in a heap of snow with a soft sound, disappearing from sight.

“... Sure,” Ling Qi said. She supposed it wasn’t the weirdest thing she had ever seen. “Have you been getting along with Zhengui?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Hanyi pouted, crossing her arms. “He’s being a big jerk,” she huffed. “He keeps saying he’s too busy to play ‘cause he has to beat up some eel. I don’t get it. I’m way more fun to play with than some doofy eel.”

Ah. It looked like Zhengui might have taken to training with Heizui a little too well. “I’ll have a chat with him,” Ling Qi said, “about not neglecting his friends.”

“He’s a dummy,” Hanyi corrected, eyeing her suspiciously. “I just want my sled back. It’s not ‘cause I miss him or something.”

“Of course,” Ling Qi replied, hiding her grin with her sleeve. That was kind of cute. It did remind her that she would be leaving the mountain in a year or so. What would happen then?

Thankfully, Zeqing arrived before Hanyi could pick up on the drop in her mood. Ling Qi allowed herself to forget the future for the moment and immerse herself in her lessons.

Later, as they finished up and the sun sank below the horizon, casting the ravine into darkness, she found herself reminded.

Zeqing sat beside Ling Qi, and Hanyi lay with her head in her Mother’s lap, tired out from several hours of hard practice. Asleep, the little spirit shimmered in and out of solidity, blue flesh fading to reveal swirling snow before fading back in again. The elder spirit rested a hand of transparent ice on her daughter’s head as the two of them watched the last light fade from the sky.

“I have heard that you will be leaving the Sect,” her teacher said quietly without any accusation in her tone.

“I will,” Ling Qi replied. “I am incredibly thankful to you and the Sect, but I want to make something that is mine.”

“I understand,” Zeqing said, and Ling Qi felt a rush of relief. “Still, it will be less interesting without you. You have been a good student.”

“I will still be here a year yet,” Ling Qi said before her features fell in a frown. “... Assuming an Inner Sect student can visit this peak.”

“It should not be difficult to obtain dispensation, so long as you do not interfere with the operation of the Outer Sect,” Zeqing said without worry. “I suppose a year still seems like a great length of time to you.”

“It does,” Ling Qi admitted. “I have been happy here for the most part. I think I want that year to seem long.”

Zeqing let out an amused laugh like the tinkling of crystal chimes on the wind. “What an honest answer.”

“I try,” Ling Qi grinned. “Sometimes, anyway.”

The spirit gave a shallow nod in reply, brushing her fingers through Hanyi’s hair. “Let me ask you then: what do you think of my daughter?”

Ling Qi blinked, glancing sidelong at her musical mentor. “She can be… difficult and maybe a little spoiled,” Ling Qi answered, thinking back to the girl’s cries of unfairness at the end of their game of tag. “... but I think she is a bit lonely too.”

Zeqing did not reply for a time, and her billowing hair blocked her features from sight as she lowered her head. Ling Qi remained silent until she spoke again. “So you see it as well,” Zeqing remarked. “Hanyi has shown much more cheer since that spirit of yours began coming here.”

“I hope Zhengui has behaved himself,” Ling Qi said, aware of how territorial the snow spirit could be.

Zeqing flicked her sleeve in dismissal of the words. “Once, I might have scoured the mountain clean to remove the presence of a beast like him, but it no longer bothers me,” she said. “But I cannot say that seeing my daughter so joyful in the presence of another does not… vex me in some ways,” she added, her voice growing dark.

Ling Qi shifted uncomfortably as the temperature dropped. “... Will it be a problem?”

“I will not let it be,” Zeqing answered, her blood red lips curving down in a frown. “I am not as I was. The same instinct which demands that her joy be in me alone are the ones which would cause me to devour her as well. Humanity is a vexing thing, bringing such uncertainty.”

“I don’t think you regret it though, do you?” Ling Qi asked carefully.

“I do not,” Zeqing replied. “Yet I know that one day, I will need to let her go.” Ling Qi flinched at the icy wind that cut through her defenses, chilling her to the bone the moment those words left the spirit’s mouth. “That is the human thing to do, is it not?”

Ling Qi shivered as the snow and ice slashed through the air around her, leaving only the mother and daughter spirits untouched. “... Maybe,” she admitted. “Do you think that would help her?”

“Hanyi will not ever be more than she is if she remains,” Zeqing said, her soft voice audible over the shrieking wind. “And that no longer seems as acceptable as it once was. Did you know that before I began teaching you, the thought of teaching my daughter never crossed my mind as more than an idle fancy?”

The wind was quieting down, thankfully, and the snowfall was growing slower and gentler. “You seem very proud of her progress though,” Ling Qi said, looking over at them.

“I am,” Zeqing agreed. “And such is my conflict. I wish to see my daughter mature, but she cannot do so with me.” The spirit sounded as if those words physically pained her, and perhaps they did. “Do you understand my meaning, Disciple Ling Qi?”

Ling Qi nodded. “I will be happy to continue my lessons, Teacher Zeqing, alone and alongside your daughter. As your student, I am her older sister. I will look after my junior if need be,” she promised.

Zeqing nodded shallowly as the last of the whipping wind faded. “I speak only as a consideration for the future,” she said, somewhat stiffly. “A year remains to us after all, and the future may bring change.”

Chapter 175-Training 2

“Haah!” Ling Qi let out a cry of triumph as the guandao in her hands punctured the stone pillar in front of her with a thunderous crash, sending up a cloud of powdered rock as she pulled it to the side. The gleaming metal blade carved through the stone, trailing an afterimage of glittering white light. The pillar was but one of many ruined and broken around her, and with no more in easy reach, Ling Qi leaped lightly to another pillar, the corona of light surrounding her causing the shadows among the pillars to flicker madly.

While the guandao had been a passing fancy of the first realm when she was just coming into the superhuman strength of a cultivator, Ling Qi had found herself choosing it once again for this exercise. Maintaining her Sable Crescent Step under the burning weight of Cai Renxiang’s Glorious Heavenly Legion art was like weight training in a way. Swinging around a weapon was more entertaining than just jumping about, and it let Cai practice more of her own art’s techniques while they were at it.

Cai herself was seated atop one of the tallest pillars in the lotus position, and to Ling Qi’s sight, she was essentially a blazing star fallen to earth. Only the improvement of her senses allowed her to see the girl’s silhouette in the center. As Ling Qi landed on top of an intact pillar, the stone beneath her quaked as a massive shadow leapt from the cloud of rockdust on the opposite side of the pillar field.

Gan Guangli landed atop a pair of pillars as well, one foot on each one. He towered nearly four meters high and glowed with the same light as Ling Qi. The exercise was coming to an end though so that light began to fade.

“Report improvements,” the heiress said crisply, her voice ringing over the field.

“I could truly feel your burning wrath infusing my fists!” Gan Guangli announced, thumping his fist against his metal-clad chest. “It was as if nothing could stand against my might!”

Ling Qi shot an amused glance at the boisterous young man as she spoke up herself. “I’m not the strongest physically, but I was able to cut through stone as easily as I could dirt or wood. I think you have it.”

Cai Renxiang let out a pleased hum, opening her eyes to survey the destruction the two of them had wrought. “Very good,” she said with a nod. “Gan Guangli, center yourself and consider insights you have gained toward the nature of Light. Ling Qi, let us resume our discussion of court etiquette and clan structures. We will resume active exercises in one half hour.”

Ling Qi allowed the effects of her art to fade, finally ending the irritating itching that came from the two conflicting elements, and let out a sigh of relief, stretching her arms over her head. The pillar field shook as the shrinking but still gigantic Gan Guangli took a seat on one of the largest pillars.

“Lady Cai, if you don’t mind, may I ask you something before we start our discussion?” she asked as she hopped to a pillar closer to the heiress’ position.

“You may,” the girl replied, the only sign of her exertion from covering the entire field in light a few beads of sweat on her forehead.

“Why focus on an art like that right now?” Ling Qi asked. “Something like that isn’t going to help in the tournament much.”

Cai Renxiang considered the question. “There is no danger of failure for me,” she stated bluntly. “I have no doubt that the Sect and the Duchess have arranged things such that I will place highly, and while taking the top place might be a boon, it is more important to set the foundations for my future as a commander and ruler.”

Ling Qi blinked as she took a seat on a pillar across from the heiress. She had an inkling that the tournament brackets would be arranged, but hearing it stated aloud still left her with a slightly sour feeling. “... I see,” she said, and some of that ill feeling must have escaped into her tone because Cai peered at her with a slight frown.

“I do not say these things in boast,” the other girl noted. “To be frank, I regard dueling ability as tertiary at best. I am merely grateful that I have the opportunity to focus on other things.”

“That’s a little odd considering the Duchess’ policies, isn’t it?” Ling Qi asked lightly to show that her disquiet had simply been passing irritation.

“If I come to occupy the pinnacle of power that my Honored Mother does, it will be many centuries hence,” Cai replied dryly. “I cannot rely on overwhelming power as she does.”

“Still, are such techniques really so important?” Ling Qi asked. “In the end, aren’t armies only important for holding territory since the greatest cultivators cannot be everywhere at once?”

“You underestimate the Imperial armies, Miss Ling,” Gan Guangli interjected, looking up from his own meditations. “A well led division might be able to match and slay even a fourth realm cultivator or spirit if that cultivator or spirit lacks strong support of their own. They may even hold the line against one of the fifth until a counter can arrive.” Ling Qi didn’t miss the way her fellow vassal’s eyes and voice lowered as if recalling something painful.

“Such considerations break down at the highest reaches of cultivation, but Gan Guangli is correct,” Cai Renxiang said smoothly. “But the theory remains valid even then. The difficulty at higher reaches lies in gathering so many of the fourth realm and above together in such a group. Even then, a cultivator with an army at their back will always prevail against a lone peer or near peer, barring rare circumstances.”

Ling Qi considered that. She supposed putting a few hundred yellow cultivators together with even fairly weak support arts could create a pretty frightening increase in power, although there were still limits in that, as implied by Gan Guangli’s comments. She inferred from his tone that “holding the line” against a fifth realm cultivator probably involved less fending off and more not instantly being destroyed.

“Alright, looks like I’ll have to study tactics a little too,” Ling Qi said. “My apologies for the delay in our discussion, Lady Cai. What was it that you wanted to discuss today?”

“The structures of a conventional Imperial clan and the titles and rankings therein,” Cai replied. “While there are many variations, it is important to understand the basic template first and foremost that you might understand those who are now your peers.”

Ling Qi nodded, settling herself into a more comfortable position. “Understood. So how does it differ from how mortals organize their families?”

“There are many similarities,” Lady Cai admitted. “The mortal ways in the Empire originate from the same source.”

“The Sage Emperor,” Ling Qi concluded thoughtfully. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Indeed,” her liege replied, seeming satisfied. Lecturing was something Cai Renxiang enjoyed, Ling Qi had come to understand. “The culture of the Sage’s original kingdom became the bedrock of the Empire you know today, although it has changed in many different ways due to intermixing with the practices of other kingdoms and the simple passage of time.”

“So, how do Imperial clans differ from mortal families?”

“The differences are rooted in the greater lifespan and personal power of cultivators,” Lady Cai explained. “Namely, the generational strata of clan positions. At the peak of any clan is its Matriarch or Patriarch, whose position is determined by raw cultivation level and age. Their peers are, in turn, the clan’s ancestors. The ancestors are the eldest generation of a clan, typically those in their last century or half century of life.”

Ling Qi had a feeling that such people were significantly more potent than the doddering, invalid grandpas she would associate with the concept of eldest among mortals. “So what is the difference between a Patriarch and a Clan Head?” Ling Qi asked. “It sounds like those people would be in charge.”

“In theory, they are,” Cai answered. “In practice, the eldest generation is focused solely on cultivation and emerges only in times of trial for a clan. The day-to-day operation of a clan falls to the next generation, the Clan Head and the Elders. It is the cultivation of this generation which determines a clan’s rank among the nobility, although a Patriarch is, in practice, never more than one realm above their Clan Head.”

“Why is that?” Ling Qi asked with a frown before answering her own question. “Ah… I guess at that age, climbing two realms would be pretty difficult.”

“That is true,” the heiress replied. “However, the simple matter is that such a Patriarch or Matriarch would almost certainly emerge from seclusion to use their newly extended life to resume command and reinvigorate the younger generations.”

“Understood. I am guessing that doesn’t happen often though,” Ling Qi said thoughtfully. “It sounds like that would be… chaotic.”

“Such times are great opportunities but also great risks, yes,” Cai agreed. “The lower ranks are more mixed, and indeed, in lower ranked clans, are typically one and the same. Below the Clan Head is the Clan Heir, and the heir’s contemporaries are the lifeblood of the clan, performing most of the necessary duties, such as serving in the military, working in Ministry employ, or working in a clan’s crafting houses. Beneath them are those known as young masters and misses, cultivators of age with us or somewhat older, who have yet to accept much responsibility and who are given freedom to develop their cultivation.”

It would make sense for there to be more and more of a divide between the young master and clan heir tiers as a clan’s top level of cultivation, and thus lifespan, grew, but there must be a lot of exceptions. “Just how old can one be and still be a ‘Young Master’?” Ling Qi asked, thinking of her mother’s history.

“It varies,” Cai Renxiang replied. “Among the highest ranked clans, many do not receive serious responsibility before their first centennial, but among most clans, the topmost age of such individuals is closer to thirty or forty.”

“I’m not going to be taken seriously at all, am I?” Ling Qi said with a rueful grin. No wonder new clans had such troubles growing. Any established clan head would probably see her as a precocious child at best.

“I will not deny that such considerations are an issue,” Cai said stonily, drawing Ling Qi’s gaze back to her face. She supposed that her words applied to Cai Renxiang as well. “While few in the province will dare be openly contemptuous, achieving true respect and recognition will be difficult for all three of us.”

“Just one more mountain to climb,” Ling Qi said flippantly, breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere before it could form. “They’ll respect us when our feet are trampling their heads.”

“Well said, Miss Ling!” Gan Guangli laughed, and if Ling Qi’s eyes didn’t lie, she even saw a hint of mirth in Lady Cai’s eyes.

“Such sentiments are best reserved for times of privacy, but I will not disagree,” Cai said, fully serious again after barely an eyeblink. “Did you have any further questions before we continue?”

“A couple,” Ling Qi replied, her own smile fading. She was reluctant to seem ignorant, but this question niggled at her; evidence on it seemed contradictory at times. “What sort of status do women have in normal situations? Those like the Duchess and yourself are obvious exceptions to any rule, but among mortals…”

Cai Renxiang simply nodded though. “A reasonable concern. I will not lie. The typical Imperial clan favors male inheritance and position, but not to the extent of excluding truly talented women,” she explained in an unhurried tone. “Typically, women are favored for inward facing positions, managing internal clan assets and activities, while men are favored for outward facing ones.”

“Which naturally includes leadership roles,” Ling Qi noted wryly.

“Just so,” Cai replied. “Keep in mind that this varies greatly by clan, depending on their origin and descent. I speak only of the common practice of clans influenced by Celestial Peaks.”

“I do wonder just what variations there are that you see the need to keep bringing them up,” Ling Qi mused.

“I could speak of the labyrinthine and impenetrable relations between the eight sub-clans of the Bai,” she began in a measured tone. “I could speak of the Zheng and their Matriarchs, who recognize no patrilineal descent nor marriage and whose male scions sow bastards as a farmer sows rice. I could speak of the many, many legal snarls that result from the Xuan’s unique interpretation of land rights and propertyor the knots of legality that arise from differing spirit pacts in our own Emerald Seas..” She met Ling Qi’s eyes then. “Any of these subjects could occupy a day or more. Let us focus upon the foundations first.”

Ling Qi briefly saw Gan Guangli slowly shaking his head over the heiress’ shoulder, his expression grave, and laughed nervously. “Ah, of course, forgive my musing. Please resume your explanation, Lady Cai.”

Who knew the infinite variation in custom and law was such a sore spot for the girl.

Chapter 176-Training 3

With the tournament looming closer by the day, Ling Qi’s days swiftly became a blur of cultivation and training, but busy as she was, Ling Qi did not forget to keep up with her obligations and responsibilities. She made sure to have a talk with Zhengui regarding Hanyi and the importance of maintaining friendships, and although she didn’t have time to watch over their interactions, the snow spirit seemed much less grumpy when Ling Qi next visited.

In regards to the young river dragon, she finally felt confident enough to request the right to invite someone else. The arrogant young dragon hemmed and hawed for a time, but a demonstration of her growing mastery of the Frozen Soul Serenade reminded him of where they stood relative to one another. It was enough for the dragon to agree to meet the person she wanted to invite anyway.

Ling Qi still wasn’t quite sure of what to make of the meeting between Bai Meizhen and Heizui. The boastful river dragon seemed almost immediately cowed by Meizhen’s presence and spent the day alternating between staring at her with wide eyes and diving into the river when Ling Qi called him on it.

Her friend’s aura must be much more powerful than she thought it was.

Still, the river dragon didn’t object to Meizhen coming back, so with that resolved, Ling Qi turned her focus fully to her training. That didn’t mean that she kept solely to herself. Between training sessions with Cai Renxiang and Su Ling, Ling Qi also requested a tutor for the week, and given the subject matter, she hoped to catch the interest of one of her previous tutors, a hope which she found fulfilled when she received the paper crane with the details of the meeting place.

“A good day to you, Junior Sister Ling,” Inner disciple Ruan Shen greeted her, waiting in almost the same place he had met her the first time. “I see the last few months have been kind to you indeed,” the handsome boy added, pushing himself up from the pillar he leaned against to stand straight and offer a shallow bow.

His eyes were as sharp and evaluating as they were before, but Ling Qi restrained her reaction to a slight blush and offered him a smile and bow in return. “It was more a matter of hard work than kindness,” she said lightly, studying him in turn. Ruan Shen was at the fifth level of the third realm, and his aura felt more intense than the last time she had seen him. “Senior Brother Ruan has not been idle either, I see.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “A paltry accomplishment when placed against the beauteous flowering you have undergone, Junior Sister. You have proven yourself a talent to watch, or so I think.”

“Thank you, Senior Brother,” Ling Qi replied, keeping the awkward, fluttery feeling in her belly from touching her voice. Did he have to sound so earnest when praising her like that? “You are too kind.”

“As the lady says,” he said, amused. “Would you walk with me then that we might discuss your curriculum?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I hope you weren’t put off by the simplicity of my request,” she said as they moved away from the main road to walk one of the paths through the lightly wooded lower reaches of the mountain.

“I admit to some confusion,” he agreed amicably. “What is it about the subject of meridian cleansing which troubles you?”

She didn’t want to admit that that particular request was partially to avoid selecting something he was not knowledgeable in, so thankfully, she did have some legitimate questions as well. “To be honest, it is in regards to the White Room Lady Cai has so generously provided us,” she elaborated.

“Such good fortune,” he mused with a sigh. “Ah, that I might have been a few years younger. I’m afraid the workings of such a wonder are beyond me.”

“That is fine,” Ling Qi replied, enjoying the play of sunlight through the leafy canopy they walked under. “It’s just… While it is a great boon, I do not understand why it is as sought after as it is.” She hadn’t wanted to ask Cai herself and potentially insult her. “What I have been able to find says it has to do with its effects on meridians, but that does not seem as if it would be enough.”

Ruan Shen regarded her with a raised eyebrow, pausing in his stride. “I understand that you have quite a talent, but… Ah, I think I might see from where your confusion springs,” he concluded, pounding his fist against his palm. “Fifty four.”

Ling Qi blinked in confusion. “Fifty four…?” she asked. “Is that some limit on the number of meridians one can have?”

“There is no hard limit, and the number varies somewhat for certain cultivators, but any cultivator will reach the point where clearing further channels becomes exponentially more difficult. The difficulty escalates greatly again at around one hundred and eight. A tool such as a White Room is invaluable at that level where medicines which can boost one’s efforts become rare treasures,” her tutor explained patiently.

That was what was meant about it having greater value at higher realms, she supposed. “And I suppose that this is such common knowledge that no one bothers to say it.” Ling Qi sighed.

“As you say,” he agreed. “Do not blame the Elder teaching the basics too much though. It is hardly something relevant to most who would need to know.”

In other words, it was unlikely that most commoners would ever reach that limit in the first place. “Let us just find a place to play, Senior Brother.”

“Very well. I would not deny a lady’s request,” he acceded cheerfully. “I saw in your request that you wished to continue mastering the Melody of the Forgotten Vale. I am curious what other songs have found their way into your repertoire.”

Ling Qi glanced away, embarrassed, because she remembered the last time Ruan Shen had tutored her and his words about the Melody. Spirits above, he was going to think her a gloomy girl indeed, just as Sixiang had said, if all she could show was the bleak Frozen Soul Serenade.

“Well…” she began, toying with a loose strand of hair. At the same time,it wouldn’t do to make him think she still only had one melody though. “I do have one other,” she admitted reluctantly.

He gave her a curious look. “So reticent… Just what manner of song have you learned, Junior Sister?”

“I suppose I can just show you,” Ling Qi said, taking in a deep breath as she prepared to sing the first wordless note of Frozen Soul Serenade.

Seeing her song freeze over the clearing and end the life of flowers and small animals alike did not exactly do much to disprove Sixiang’s assertion. It was far easier to pretend that the Serenade was less bleak when singing in the middle of a blizzard. Thankfully, Senior Brother Ruan took it in stride, strumming a tune that melted away the ice and brought new flowers into bloom.

***

The rest of the week passed quickly enough with her qi reserves soaring day by day as the powerful medicinal energy of the Sable Light Pill pulsed through her channels and dantian. It was hard to feel like she hadn’t wasted her earlier pills, even though she knew she couldn’t have achieved what she had without using them back then.

Musings on medicinal efficiency aside, Ling Qi did find herself distracted one final time toward the end of the week as she began to prepare her purchase list of cultivation aids for the next week. Su Ling, who had been helping her practice and master the third breath of the art Ling Qi had stolen from Yan Renshu, Abyssal Exhalation, asked her to meet up at the outskirts of town where she was preparing for another expedition with the Ma sisters. Apparently, Su Ling wanted some advice before they set out.

Curious, Ling Qi made her way down to their encampment, pausing to greet Mother and Biyu on the way. She had been too busy to visit her mother much in the last few days, but she fully intended to rectify that starting tomorrow. She could tell that Mother was starting to feel restless.

Ling Qi soon found her way to where Su Ling and the other girls were camped, following the trail of their qi. Su Ling had recently brought her cultivation up to the mid second realm, making her qi stronger and easier to track down.

Ling Qi tried not to take too much amusement in the jolt of alarm that went through the three girls as she dropped soundlessly from the trees, casually deflecting the impromptu missile of a skinning knife that Su Ling had flung her way.

“Hey, that’s a little rude, don’t you think?” she asked playfully to her friend, crossing her arms.

“Don’t jump out of the trees like a spook then,” Su Ling huffed. “Give me back my knife.” Ling Qi laughed at her irreverent tone.

The knife was embedded to the hilt in the tree behind her, but a quick tug pulled it out. She tossed it back to Su Ling, who caught it between her fingers. “So what did you want to ask me about?”

“Moon spirits,” Su Ling said bluntly. “I know you cultivate that kind of thing, and I’ve seen you chatting with that moon spirit that’s been poking around everywhere.”

Ling Qi blinked, nonplussed. “What for?” she asked. “I don’t really think you should hunt those…” Ling Qi was uncomfortable about the idea of harvesting moon fairies for cores, even if she knew intellectually that it wasn’t any different from hunting grade one or two beasts.

Su Ling shook her head though, slipping the knife back into her belt as she stood up from the tree stump she had been seated on and dusted off her pants. “Nah, I’m looking to bind one. There’s… like placation rituals and offerings and such, right?”

“I didn’t really think that moon spirits would be your type of spirit,” Ling Qi mused, glancing over the camp. Ma Jun and Lei were packing up their things as they prepared to move on. “I don’t mind, but do you mind if I ask why?”

Su Ling grimaced, her pointed ears flicking irritably. “My mother is a master of illusion. If I’m not gonna develop that stuff myself, I need a partner who can, right?”

Ling Qi nodded, understanding now. She doubted Su Ling would be comfortable binding a fox spirit so a moon spirit would probably be the next best thing for that kind of role. “Sure thing then,” she agreed. “I know a good place to attract moon spirits.”

“Thanks,” Su Ling replied. “I can’t show you much else when it comes to tracking, but…”

“Consider it payback for the lessons I already received,” Ling Qi replied. “Or donate a few cores to Zhengui. He’s going to eat me out of house and home, I swear.” Ling Qi huffed. “How about you two? Are you going to be binding moon spirits too?”

Ma Jun glanced at her, the bells in her hair jingling. “Perhaps? If I could bind a spirit skilled in song like Sir Sixiang, that would be wonderful.” Ling Qi watched the girl’s cheeks flush with a flat expression. Had Sixiang been flirting around the mountain again?

“Heh, Sis can’t get a boyfriend, so she wants to make one,” Ma Lei teased, causing her sister to splutter. “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna save up and buy myself a puppy,” she said with a serious nod. “It’ll be great! And adorable!”

Ling Qi stared at the excitable, tomboyish girl, and some part of her mind imagined the girl with floppy ears and a wagging tail. “... Fitting,” she said. “Well, like I said, there’s a tower a long ways south and east of here where you can probably attract some spirits, but you absolutely can’t go inside.”

Su Ling and Ma Jun approached, listening intently while she explained the proper rites and offerings while Ma Lei finished packing up the camp. Ling Qi made sure to reiterate her warning to avoid the tower’s interior several more times, just to be sure, but she was pretty sure that they got the idea. Su Ling was more cautious than her anyway.

Ling Qi saw them off after she had told them what she knew then headed back to the mountain to prepare for the next week.

Chapter 177-Training 4

“So, what do you think?” Ling Qi asked as the last notes faded into the evening air. She hadn’t come up with something satisfactory on her own so she had simply returned to practicing the compositions Mother sent her.

“I think you have surpassed me by a great deal,” Ling Qingge replied wistfully. They sat on a blanket laid across the porch overlooking the garden that lay behind the house. To Ling Qi’s eye, Mother’s condition had not improved too much. Part of her mother was still expecting a reversal, not for any logical reason but out of habit.

“Maybe,” Ling Qi allowed, knowing that there was no point in dissenting on the matter. “But that doesn’t change the skillfulness of your composition,” she said with an encouraging smile. “I would like to hear your own take on the composition, if you don’t mind.”

Mother looked hesitant as Ling Qi offered her the flute, but after a moment, she reached out to take it, though she did so gingerly as if handling something priceless. It was only after the flute was in her hands that her mother’s brows furrowed. Ling Qingge traced her fingers over the wood. “This is…”

Ling Qi glanced away, embarrassed. “... It was yours, yes,” she admitted. “I am sorry. It broke after it was knocked from my hands in a fight, and I wanted to be able to keep using it.” She left out the fact that it had taken a spear through the stomach to disarm her.

Ling Qingge looked down at the polished instrument in her hands, a mix of nostalgia and concern on her face. “It is a small thing,” she said quietly. “Why would you have a flute in your hands during a… fight though?” her mother asked, uncertain and out of her depth.

Ling Qi smirked. “My music is one of the most feared weapons on the mountain,” she boasted. “Men cower and dragons bow before my melodies!”

Ling Qi’s not inaccurate boast had the desired effect of making her mother smile, but she had a feeling her mother didn’t quite believe her. “I see. If this old flute has given you some protection, then I have no complaints.” Ling Qingge’s fingers lingered on the mouthpiece, the most intact part of the old flute.

“It did,” Ling Qi agreed, looking out over the garden lit by the colors of sunset. “I would really like to hear you play again.”

Her mother hesitated a moment longer before raising the flute to her lips, and as she began to play the first melancholy notes of her song, Ling Qi closed her eyes and let herself focus on the music. Ling Qingge really was very good, near as good as a mortal could be, even with the little hitches and hesitations born of a skill that had fallen into disuse. It fed another ember to the resentment in her heart that had been born of her mother’s story. Mother could have made a living from her skill, if allowed.

It made her dream what things could have been like. Perhaps that was simply the nature of the song she was listening to. The song spoke of mistakes made, opportunities lost, and the wish for something better.

Eventually, the song came to an end. Ling Qi and her mother sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink beneath the horizon.

“I have lost my touch,” Ling Qingge mused, breaking the silence. “Perhaps it is for the best that this is yours now,” she continued, slipping the flute back into Ling Qi’s hands.

“You have time to practice again if you would like. You are better than you give yourself credit for,” Ling Qi pointed out, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Mother, is there something lacking here?” she asked. For all that Ling Qi had changed, she was still blunt.

“How ungrateful would I have to be to say that there was?” Ling Qingge asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have a home, equal to any in the middle districts of Tonghou. I have everything I need to care for Biyu, coin for luxuries, and even household servants to perform every task.”

Ling Qi shifted uncomfortably. Household expenses were only a few red stones shaved from her pill furnace income. She hadn’t considered how excessive that might seem to her mother. How quickly she forgot the value of a silver coin. “Yet you aren’t happy,” Ling Qi countered. “I try to make as much time to visit as I can, but with the tournament approaching…”

“Ling Qi,” her mother began, sounding pained. “Do not ever think that you have done wrong.” Ling Qi was surprised to see her mother reach out and put one of her hands over Ling Qi’s. Mother was still reluctant to initiate physical contact most of the time. “I simply do not know what to do with so much free time. The men and women working in this household hardly need oversight from one such as I, nor do I know them well enough to be comfortable in giving it.”

“Even with Biyu running about?” Ling Qi asked with a smile.

“Even so,” Ling Qingge replied dryly. “That girl is too much akin to you. She does not appreciate it when I hover.”

Ling Qi let herself laugh, when she had come by earlier in the week and taken the task of watching her younger sister, only to be bored silly watching the little girl intently searching through the garden. Biyu refused help as she attempted to hunt down and catch one of the little frogs which lived in the central pond.

“Should I dismiss some of the servants? They work for the Sect so they would not be losing their livelihoods.”.

“No, you are a noble lady now, and having a household staff is part of such things. What message would it send to your peers to have your mother doing menial tasks?” There was no arrogance here, simply understanding.

Ling Qi blinked. She hadn’t considered her reputation when seeing to the household. She just wanted her family well taken care of. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought of that… but if it would make you happy, I wouldn’t mind losing a little face,” Ling Qi admitted. “In the end, I won’t receive much respect until I make some achievements for myself.”

Cai’s patronage would prevent her from being openly dismissed, but Clan Ling consisted of one cultivator and two mortals. She could see how families with dozens or scores of members would regard her as little more than an upstart, even ignoring her own young age.

Her mother pursed her lips and shook her head. “I would not demand such, not merely for my own satisfaction,” she answered with finality. Silence fell between them again after that, Ling Qi and her mother both falling into their own thoughts.

Ling Qi broke the silence. “I mean what I say. Perhaps I am overcompensating, but Mother, if you want something, please just ask.”

Ling Qingge shook her head slightly. “You are too generous, Ling Qi. You will have to reign in that impulse, else Biyu will become a spoiled girl.”

“Maybe so,” Ling Qi replied in an amused tone, letting the deflection and change of subject lie. “You know,” Ling Qi began, “if you need something to occupy your time, you could always attempt to cultivate, at least a little.”

Ling Qingge frowned, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening. “I was given to understand that I am too old for such things.” And not talented enough to be selected to begin with was left unsaid.

“I’ve been doing some studying on that,” Ling Qi replied. “In your situation, it shouldn’t be completely impossible.” Highly unlikely maybe. It would be a struggle to even awaken given the dearth of medicines that an adult mortal could safely handle and the reduction in the capability of the medicinal energies from all the impurities, but she had come across oblique mentions of a few options. “It might take a very long time, but even a little cultivation would…” She trailed off, not able to put it into words. It would let Mother live a little longer and healthier.

Mother met her eyes for a moment before looking away, expression wistful. “If you believe it possible, it would be rude of me to refuse,” she said. “What would I need to do?”

“I can show you a couple of breathing exercises to begin with,” Ling Qi replied, a hint of excitement entering her voice. “First, you should close your eyes, and focus on the feel of the air entering your lungs…”

There was no progress that night of course, but Ling Qi couldn’t bring herself to care.

***

Ling Qi made sure to visit Mother every evening, whether to chat, visit Biyu, have a cup of tea and discuss music, or try again on getting Mother to feel her dantian. It was a nice way to wind down after a day spent in rigorous cultivation. She reached new levels of understanding in both of her musical arts under the tutelage of Zeqing and her hired tutor alike.

Zeqing’s proud smile when she managed to properly unleash the power of Forgotten Vale Melody filled her with a paradoxical warmth. The art’s potency had increased greatly with her mastery of the sixth measure, the phantoms of dissonance growing from shadowy flickers to ominous wraiths and it was easier to strand others in her mist.

She also met up with the tutor she had hired with some of her Sect points. It seemed that the Inner Sect either lacked in prominent darkness cultivators or none of them were up for tutoring. The lesson on domain effects and spiritual matters was helpful anyway, and the heavily veiled and shrouded young lady who answered her request had a few insights to offer on Ling Qi’s arts, even if the tutor only used darkness techniques in a tertiary role.

The third cycle of Frozen Soul Serenade enabled her to bring more damage to bear with her songs, especially with her mastery of the completing half of Spring’s End Aria, Winter eternal Cadenza. With Spring’s End Aria active, Ling Qi would be able to unleash, if briefly, the absolute cold of winter without end.

Things didn’t all go well though. Ling Qi had taken to checking on Xiulan every other day or so to see if she emerged from seclusion, and what she found one morning turned her stomach. Her friend succeeded in breaking through but reaching the Green Soul stage exacerbated her wounds due to Xiulan’s greater spiritual power. Flames openly burned on the girl’s arm, snapping and crackling loudly and carrying the scent of burnt flesh from a limb that was nearly skeletal.

It was clear her friend felt every inch of the ruined limb because when she helped her friend from the meditation room to her bedroom, Ling Qi saw tears of pain in the corners of her friend’s eyes. Thankfully, the resistance to heat granted by her connection to Zhengui was enough to let Ling Qi safely help Xiulan rewrap the limb in the flame retardant linen bandages.

She knew her friend, and so Ling Qi didn’t express a word of pity, only congratulations for Xiulan’s accomplishment. She strongly suspected that the proud girl was thankful for it.

Ling Qi wondered if it was a good thing that she could now easily hide her disquiet to have a cheerful little celebration in Xiulan’s dining room, even after having just witnessed that. Then again, her composure was hardly something to be considered compared to Xiulan’s, who was back to her usual self in barely any time.

Ling Qi was surrounded by reminders of the time passing. Zhengui was growing again, visibly so as his cultivation rose in potency. When she sparred with Meizhen,she couldn’t help but notice the increasing definition and independence of her friend’s shadow, and Cui had once again vanished to wherever it was that she went when she was growing and shedding.

Most urgently, she had begun to notice a certain wispiness about Sixiang while trading musical tips. The edges of the spirit’s body were growing blurry, trailing away into smoke whenever the spirit’s attention wandered. It was increasingly obvious that their time was coming to an end.

Knowing this, Ling Qi thought to ask Sixiang if there was anything they wanted to do before they lost the chance. It was a decision she came to regret almost immediately when she saw the speculative gleam in the spirit’s glittering eyes.

Chapter 178-Socialite 1

Sixiang wanted to attend a human party. Among the older years, there was a bi-weekly gathering of various semi-important disciples. This was the group that she and Fu Xiang had helped Lady Cai pacify in a time that seemed very long ago. Sixiang had attempted to attend previously, but they had been rebuffed at the door.

Much to her regret, getting an invitation was as simple as speaking with Cai Renxiang. Lady Cai was on the invite list, but she was too busy to attend for the most part. She suspected that her liege was a little too pleased to pass off the invitation to her.

At the party, Ling Qi ended up standing at the edge of a banquet hall, feeling incredibly awkward as she held a conversation with Wen Ai, the girl whose bedroom she had broken into during her first mission from Fu Xiang.

“It is regrettable that Lady Cai herself could not afford to attend,” said the perfumed, impractically dressed count scion, seemingly perfectly sincere and polite. “Not that I am displeased by your presence, Miss Ling. It is a delight to have a rising star such as yourself attend in her place.”

Ling Qi kept her expression pleasant, doing her best to keep her eyes on the girl’s face and not the ridiculously elaborate arrangement of flowers and ornaments in the girl’s hair. It was hard to look at Wen Ai and not feel a pang of old jealousy. The girl was more than a head shorter than her, dainty and pale, the very picture of a traditional beauty.

“Lady Cai expresses her great regrets in being unable to attend,” she replied. “And I thank you for accepting my humble presence in her stead,” she added with an appropriate bow.

The hall was full of a score or so of late second realm disciples. Wen Ai herself was the only one who had pierced the barrier to reach the third realm, a full breakthrough at that although her aura had the slightly wobbly feel of a recent breakthrough. Wen Ai’s smile had an indulgent cast, Ling Qi thought, but perhaps she was just being unkind because she didn’t want to be here.

“I do not mind at all. It is a shame that you have not had a chance to attend more of these little gatherings given your talent,” the girl continued on, her voice sweet, melodious, a touch empty. “And your companion! Where did you find such a rare spirit?”

Sixiang, standing beside her, glanced over, their head cocked slightly in curiosity as they examined the little clumps of people quietly conversing throughout the hall. The spirit’s expression was bemused and somewhat disbelieving.

“Just a bit of good fortune. I am afraid I might find myself in some trouble if I were more exact,” she replied.

“Of course,” Wen Ai allowed, seeming to accept her answer. “We all must keep our little secrets.” There was an edge there; Ling Qi wasn’t just imagining it. Wen Ai knew or had suspicions as to Ling Qi’s involvement in Cai Renxiang’s leverage over her during the faction war with Sun Liling. “In any case, please enjoy the party, Miss Ling. I am afraid I must greet the next guest. I do hope we can speak later though. I am honored to finally be receiving some further attention from Lady Cai.”

Ling Qi murmured an agreement as they were allowed to get out of the entranceway and proceed into the banquet hall.

“Why isn’t anyone dancing?” Sixiang asked, nonplussed.

“I do not believe it is that kind of party,” Ling Qi replied quietly, tweaking the flows of air around them so that their words remained audible only to them.

“How can you have a party without dancing?” Sixiang gasped.

“You did say that you wanted to see a human party,” Ling Qi shot back. At least she wouldn’t suffer alone. “This is how human’s do it,” she said. “We stand around and talk while pretending we like each other.”

She flushed as a young man nearby shot her an amused look over his cup. Even if people couldn’t hear her, they could probably read her lips or even hear through more esoteric means. Thankfully, he waved off her budding apology with a gesture of his hand. She had been lucky there. No one else seemed to be paying attention.

“The wine is even watered,” Sixiang muttered, part of the right side of their face briefly dissolving into multihued mist. They stopped near the refreshment table.

“I am sure there will be music later,” Ling Qi offered in consolation. There was a small stage for that off at the other end of the hall.

“Maybe I should go up there,” the spirit said thoughtfully, narrowing their eyes.

“Sixiang, do not use any weird techniques to liven things up,” she said flatly. “You wanted the proper experience after all.”

“Hmph. You’re surprisingly mean-spirited,” Sixiang huffed, giving her a mock glare.

“I don’t want to have to explain a sudden riot to Lady Cai,” Ling Qi riposted smoothly.

“Fair.” Sixiang crossed their arms as they observed the people around them. “I wasn’t expecting it to be like home, but still…”

“There are parties, and there are parties,” she replied with a shrug. She was going to have to mingle at some point. It would look bad for Lady Cai if she didn’t. “It’s a context thing.”

“Well, how was I to know that?” Sixiang pouted.

“I’m sure you’ll learn,” Ling Qi consoled. “Well… I don’t know how things will be, after you… dissolve?” She wasn’t sure of the correct terminology.

“I think I might like a human binder, at least for a time,” they mused. “Of course, I wouldn’t really be all that useful in combat, so who knows if someone will be interested?”

“What do you mean?” Ling Qi asked. Sixiang had the highest cultivation she had seen among disciples and their spirits.

“I am just into the third realm myself. The additional cultivation was Grandmother making sure I could handle trouble on my vacation,” they explained. “Plus, you know, I am a muse. I don’t like fighting much.”

Sixiang had a point. Many disciples would want a more combat oriented spirit, especially with the upcoming tournament. Ling Qi glanced at them in consideration. “Wish me luck. I need to go have a chat with some of these fine ladies and gentlemen,” she said a touch dryly.

Sixiang chuckled. “I can give you some advice if you’d like.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Sixiang waved a hand. “No one will hear. Besides, even if it’s not as much fun, sweet-talking is in my realm, gloomy girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ling Qi retorted. “I’m not making any promises about following your advice, especially if it’s weird.”

“Of course,” Sixiang replied, lips curling up into a too confident smirk.

Ling Qi wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or disgruntled by the end of the party. Finding out that an inhuman fairy was better at small talk with other people than she was stung.

***

“I am disappointed,” Cai Renxiang said as Ling Qi closed the door to the girl’s office behind her. The heiress was seated behind her desk with a slightly larger than normal amount of papers and forms stacked in front of her.

Ling Qi furrowed her brows. She hadn’t even said anything yet, so what did…? She winced as the answer came to her. “I admit that I didn’t give my best showing there. I had my mind on other things.”

“I had thought that you wished to begin building your own connections, not merely entertaining the whims of a spirit.” Her liege’s tone was displeased but not angry. “Did you at least accomplish your actual goal?”

“I would say so?” Ling Qi offered tentatively, taking a seat across from Lady Cai. Now she understood why Cai had been so pleased to pass her the invitation. It seemed Ling Qi had projected her own dislike on Cai’s motivation. “Let me apologize for my poor conduct.”

“Your apology is accepted.” The heiress’ lips remained set in a frown, but the disappointment in her tone lightened. “Thankfully, while your disinterest was obvious, it did not veer too far into insult. I will expect better in the future.” She gestured, and a slip of paper fluttered from one of the little shelves atop her desk to land in Ling Qi’s hands. “I will be holding a gathering two weeks from now, one month before the tournament. You will have an opportunity to repair your image there.”

Ling Qi dipped her head and banished the invitation into her storage ring. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but this was part of the path she had chosen. She had been too flippant before. “Thank you, Lady Cai, for your understanding.”

“It is best to get these misunderstandings out of the way now while the stakes are low. I will think nothing more of it,” Cai replied, leaving unsaid that this was conditional on Ling Qi handling things better in the future. “Now, what is it you wished to see me about?”

“I wanted to ask you if something had gone wrong with my pill furnace,” Ling Qi started. “The take has been declining. Has there been trouble with it?”

“Not of the sort you speak of,” Cai answered. She glanced down at her desk and the papers there shuffled themselves, a document from near the bottom rising to the top for perusal. “The end of the year means disciples have less use for such a public option. We cannot provide the privacy and security of the Sect’s furnaces without exorbitant expense.”

Ling Qi, frowned. She understood and wished that had occurred to her. Of course a furnace in a public place wouldn’t be much good for major projects, and people’s care packages from home were probably ramping up in preparation for the tournament, lowering the demand for common pills.

“I see. I will just need to plan my spending carefully then,” she said, a bit blue. She had gotten used to that income though, and she would have major expenses coming up in upgrading her equipment before the tournament. Thankfully, Cai Renxiang had agreed to pay for an artisan to create a domain weapon from the umbral shard she had found during the Hidden Moon quest. “Is the domain weapon complete?”

“Yes,” Cai Renxiang said. A long thin box of dark wood appeared in her hands. Laying it on the desk between them, she gestured for Ling Qi to take it.

Ling Qi did so, only to pause with her fingers centimeters from the lid. Even from there, she could feel the frisson of cold, dark qi across her skin. Lifting the lid, she peered inside.

The blade that lay on the cushion inside of the box was of normal length, but it was exotically constructed. The blade was not solid, it was a hollow helix, and from within the gaps, faint fingers of dark mist drifted. As she took up the simple and unwrapped hilt, she felt the blade hum, whispering a song of hunger and envy.

She released the hilt and raised her eyes. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Lady Cai.”

Chapter 179-Standing

They stood atop a snowy cliff, the falling snow separating them like a gauzy veil.

Ling Qi held her flute, loose and ready, while the wind tugged at the trailing hem of her silken gown and the free strands of her hair. At Ling Qi’s side, her little brother rippled with heat, the fires burning within melted away snow and left the young snake-tortoise standing on bare rock while falling flakes turned to drizzling rain above his head. Determination radiated from the young spirit almost as obviously as his heat. Over her shoulder, a twisted blade of dark metal hummed softly, mist spilling from the gaps in its odd spiralling blade.

Across, Meizhen stood, a pale shadow in the falling snow, with a pool of writhing shadow at her feet spilling across the snow like ink. In her right hand was the handle of the strange ribbon sword that her friend wielded, its many sharp-edged blades slithering over one another like live serpents.

“Ready?” Ling Qi asked, examining her friend’s stance. It was perfect as always, the seeming lack of guard a lethal trap for those who did not understand how the ribbon blades could move.

“I am,” Meizhen replied with the slightest dip of her head.

Meizhen wasn’t taking this spar seriously. There were a thousand indicators of this, recognizable only due to her familiarity with the girl. It was not any different than Meizhen’s normal attitude, but today, she felt irked by it. She had grown stronger in the past few months; surely she could at least push the other girl.

Ling Qi inhaled, and sang, the full weight of her spirit making the wordless song reverberate in the air. Her voice cut through wind and snow, freezing the rain falling over Zhengui’s head, and sent the falling flakes spinning dizzily outward. She caught a momentary widening in her friend’s eyes as the song washed over her, and she was gratified to see the pale girl take a single step back, even as snow swirled violently around Meizhen, dissolving into a cloak of dark waters that cast her face into shadow, leaving only the glow of her golden eyes visible.

Layers of ice formed across the liquid mantle as it absorbed the incredible cold, drawing it hungrily in before it could touch pale flesh, and Ling Qi felt the dip in her friend’s qi reserves from defending against the assault. Her eyes met Meizhen’s, and her wish was conveyed.

Her friend’s golden gaze hardened, taking the challenge and request in stride. Before the ice could even begin to properly slough off, it crumbled into slush at the serpentine girl’s feet. Meizhen’s wrist twitched, and a half dozen blades snapped toward her with a metallic hiss. Dark green qi pulsed, enshrouding her in a layer of barklike armor, even as Ling Qi leaped back in a puff of snow, making distance.

It wasn’t enough to escape those reaching blades though. Silvery metal slashed through vital qi and living silk alike, tracing a line of blood across her hip. Ling Qi twisted to avoid the rest of the blades, leaving them to scythe through the cliff face behind her with a sibilant hiss, leaving deep, smooth grooves in stone. Her new flying weapon, the Singing Mist Blade, shot forward, zig-zagging through the snowy sky, its faint hum rising into a whistling screech, blowing away snow and sending ripples across Meizhen’s watery mantle. A scowl found its way onto Ling Qi’s face as it failed to do anything else; the blade’s flight was still jerky, and the projection of her power limited and weak.

She flinched when the mass of Bai Meizhen’s own domain blade smashed into her own with the weight of a landslide. The impact was as jarring as if she had blocked the blade with her own limb. She felt cracks forming in the material as the newly forged weapon spun away, whistling miserably, but she could not spare it any more attention. Meizhen was advancing.

The pool of darkness at Meizhen’s feet rippled, and Ling Qi had barely an instant to prepare herself before a wave of terror washed over her. Ling Qi’s vision wavered, and she beheld a terrible army arrayed under a cloudy sky, twisted beastmen baying for blood, and felt the spear in her hands tremble with the pounding of ten thousand boots on the earth.

Worst were the screams of the barbarian’s banners…

The vision disappeared as Ling Qi exhaled, expelling the foreign qi with a quick cycling of her own. Zhengui seemed to have thrown it off as well. The young snake-tortoise let out a stubborn cry and filled the air with ash while his serpentine half spat in defiance, a burning glob of superheated venom splashing across the writhing shadow and drawing a cry like a gutted man’s death rattle from the terror spirit.

Unfortunately for her rattled nerves, Meizhen was advancing, seeming to glide across the surface of the snow at a measured pace, and with her approach came her blood-chilling presence. Ling Qi had long since grown acclimated to her friend’s natural fear aura, but Meizhen’s directed, focused attention was like a mountain weighing on Ling Qi’s shoulders, and Meizhen appeared to now loom over her, far larger than life.

Lacking her experience with Meizhen, Zhengui was hit all the harder by it. The normally proud Zhen made a low, plaintive hiss as the feeling of a superior predator washed over him.

Her flute rose to her lips, and Ling Qi allowed her singing to fade, replaced by the mournful melody of the Forgotten Vale. Mist spilled, blanketing the cliff in a cloying mist with red-eyed shadows stalking through it.

Even through ash and mist, Ling Qi could see the glow of Meizhen’s eyes. The hems and sleeves of Meizhen’s gown fluttered with the passing wind of phantasmal claws as the pale girl deftly avoided one attack after another, her gaze never leaving Ling Qi. She felt her pulse quicken as she increased the tempo of her melody, and she was rewarded as the sheer press of numbers allowed her hungry phantoms to find purchase, claw and fang bringing up sprays of black water as they tore at her friend’s mantle.

Bai Meizhen’s qi surged, and Ling Qi’s eyes widened as she felt Meizhen’s aura explode outward in a thousand twisting tendrils, tracing the paths which her own qi flowed to create the mist to strike back with toxic qi.

Ling Qi flooded darkness into her limbs, leaping away from her position to try and avoid the hungry tendrils of spirit, but they struck. Burning pain in her lungs and spine followed from the poison working its way into her channels. Her control of her blade, crude as it was, faltered, and she felt a pain like a bone being snapped. Her Singing Mist Blade’s wail rose over the battlefield in a single sharp cry as the two halves of the weapon tumbled down to land broken in the snow.

Ling Qi rallied herself, spinning on one foot as she landed to face Meizhen once more, dancing through the lashing ribbons around her. The gleaming edges, glittering in the evening light, drew her eyes, hypnotic in the beauty of their motion. They were guided by only the smallest movements of Meizhen’s hand and wrist. It was almost enough to distract from the pain that erupted as the now green-tinted metal slashed across her cheek, her shoulder, and her chest.

She could no longer spare direct attention to Zhengui, and she felt him rally, a seed of pride she had sensed only in his conflict with Heizui stilling the trembling in his limbs. Ling Qi called on the rings of her wooden armor and sang out, icy wind lashing across the shell of increasingly emerald-tinted water that now dripped and flowed across the whole of Meizhen like a fine outer gown. But with the poison burning in her veins and the loss of her flying blade, it was not enough. Ribbons of metal passed over her armor, draining her qi precipitously, and the venom intensified the burning in her veins and meridians, making spots of black dance across her vision.

Ling Qi was driven further back, pushed out of Zhengui’s ash cloud by Meizhen’s domain blade, which flashed past her guard to slam into her ribs. She was sent tumbling through the snow with a bloody cut across her abdomen where the blade had carved through armor and qi alike as if it were paper. She righted herself, defiant, but she knew how the rest of the spar was going to go.

Her qi thrummed, and her skin took on the shade of bark, her wooden armor weaving itself back together as she strengthened her defenses even further. She forgoed striking back as she cleansed herself of the dragging weight of Meizhen’s glare.

Ling Qi held out against the other girl as long as she could, and Zhengui fought valiantly, drawing the full attention of Meizhen’s own spirit, but in the end, she simply couldn’t keep her defenses up in the face of the other girl’s venomous blades and qi.

“Yield!” Ling Qi called, raising her hands in a gesture of submission. Her knees were shaking beneath her, the exhaustion from resisting the pain of the poisons coursing through her making it difficult to stand upright.

Meizhen’s gliding advance stopped, and the girl’s water-hooded visage tilted to the side. “Did you discover the insight you were searching for in this?”

As Meizhen spoke, Zhengui ripped his front legs out of the clutches of the writhing shadow that had been trying to engulf him and scrambled back, both sets of his eyes glaring at the thing as it began to shrink back into a normal shadow.

“Who said I was searching for an insight?” Ling Qi asked, panting. “Zhengui, come help me please.” She needed her little brother to begin purging the venom from her body and spirit.

Zhengui shot one last glare at the terror spirit and trotted over, the heat of his body banked. “Yes, Big Sister! I did good, right?” For once, his twin voices blended together as one; Zhengui had focused heavily during the fight.

“You did great,” Ling Qi replied with a smile, crouching to rest a hand on his head. Ling Qi sighed in relief as Zhengui drew in rejuvenating qi and began to release it through Ling Qi.

“His performance was admirable,” Meizhen commented, calling Ling Qi’s attention back to her. “As for searching for an insight, I can think of no other reason why you would ask that I fight at full capacity when we were to be practicing your domain control.”

“Yeah, didn’t get to do much of that, did I? Ling Qi sighed, glancing toward the place where she could feel the remains of her splintered flying weapon. She would have to meditate for a time to repair it. “I just couldn’t move it fast enough.”

“It is a matter of practice,” Meizhen said, her mantle slowly dissipated into the air. “Your weapon is a potent one. With its amplification of your musical techniques, your first strike held admirable weight.”

“Only the first strike though. Even with the amplification, the other strikes didn’t bother you,” Ling Qi said wryly, looking down and rubbing Zhen’s head. Zhengui’s eyes were screwed shut in concentration as he expended his remaining qi to cleanse the venom. “I still can’t match you, despite how much stronger I’ve gotten.”

At the silence that resulted, Ling Qi looked up and found Meizhen frowning at her. “That is surprisingly arrogant of you, Qi,” she said, a hint of hurt flashing in her eyes. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

Ling Qi quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean any kind of insult to you. I just…” She trailed off, her lips twisting into a grimace.

Meizhen let out a soft sound of frustration and shook her head. “I know you did not mean it that way, but do you imagine that I do not cultivate and train just as intently as you?”

Ling Qi briefly closed her eyes; that really had been an arrogant thought. Of course her friend was working just as hard as she. It only made sense that Meizhen would be growing stronger all the time, just like she herself was. “Sorry. Just some frustration slipping out.”

“It is nothing,” Meizhen said, flicking her sleeve and dismissing her weapon back into storage. “Friends are allowed to speak foolishly around one another, or so I understand.”

“I guess so,” Ling Qi laughed as Zhengui opened his eyes, gazing tiredly up at her. “Why don’t you lay down for a nap, little brother, while Big Sister fixes her sword?”

Chapter 180-Years End 1

Ling Qi avoided pushing things so far again in her practice with Meizhen, if only to avoid having to repair her flying sword again. Slowly, she improved, and its motions became smoother and more natural. It still felt odd though, as if she were learning to use a forgotten limb.

According to the Inner Sect tutor she hired, a domain weapon was precisely that. One’s domain was a part of them as surely as one's hands and feet were. A domain weapon’s main use as a training tool was that it provided an obvious physical medium by which she could learn to “flex” the spiritual muscle that she was now developing.

Learning to control a weapon with her domain was only the first faltering steps of an infant. It was only in the early stages of the green realm that cultivators let their weapons simply clash against one another. As she grew, she would learn to integrate an art into the blade she wielded, allowing her to use multiple techniques simultaneously.

That was far in the future though. The Green Realm had more stages than the two preceding realms combined and all were focused on the development of the domain. The second stage of the third realm, Appraisal, would prepare her to begin constructing her domain’s foundation, and each step thereafter required further clarifying her domain through the cultivation of arts and internalization of insights until she reached the cusp of the Fourth Realm and settled on a Way. In the third realm, it would be, if not easy, at least reasonable to shift and change her domain to a fairly large degree, but once she took the next step, her domain would be final. There were only a handful of rare and difficult methods which could shift the foundation of a cultivator’s Way once it had been set.

Ling Qi threw herself further into training. Helped along by both the Silverblood pill Su Ling and Li Suyin had developed and her tutor, she mastered the exercises behind her two less used Argent arts, pushing them toward mastery and reaching the third rumble in Argent Storm and the fourth flow in Argent Current. Aside from the general improvements in the two argent art’s techniques, she mastered a new technique, Boom Leap.

Every time she mastered a new movement or a new twist of qi control, she could feel herself coming closer to a sense of completion. Her tutor revealed that the Argent arts had been created by Sect Head Yuan as a comprehensive art suite for the Sect’s armed forces. The Mirror defended against the battlefield manipulation of the Cloud Tribe shamans, the Storm empowered the soldiers, enabling them to both defend against volleys of arrows and to close distance, and the Current allowed the charge of Argent Peak’s soldiers to break enemy lines. The Sect would grant Argent Pulse to those cultivators who mastered all three Argent arts.

The Argent Pulse art was for commanders, those who stood at the head of formations and kept units working as a cohesive whole. A cultivator with the art would be able to bolster their soldiers with the stability of the earth and move them to action with the surety of heavenly might at their backs. In the wholeness of heaven and earth, a soldier could fight to their last breath without a loss of skill.

Ling Qi was sure she wouldn’t walk the path of the Argent arts. She wouldn’t be able to teach others outside the Sect Argent arts, and her combat style did not lend itself to standing on the front lines of a battle. She’d learn the argent arts she had access to if she had free time, but her focus would be on her musical and moon arts.

However, she could not afford to do nothing but cultivate. With all of the tutoring she had been purchasing, her Sect points were dwindling rapidly, and she needed to get enough points to hire next week's tutor. It would be good to get out and stretch her legs with all of the cultivating that she had been doing. That one of the quests dovetailed nicely with a conversation that she wanted to have was a happy coincidence.

“Keep up if you can,” Ling Qi laughed, leaping from branch to branch with her new technique, her companion trailing behind.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Sixiang called, their lips curled in amusement as they floated along at a more sedate pace on fluttering wings of misty light. The Moon spirit was beginning to resemble Zeqing in that their legs were long gone, and even their hands and arms were beginning to dissolve into empty mist. “This isn’t quite what I expected to be doing today, but paying some cousins a visit is fine too.”

Ling Qi let out a thoughtful hum and turned on her heel when she next landed, her next leap carrying her backward through the air. “Do you think they’re going to give us trouble?”

“If you know the right things to say, no. That is why you’re bringing me along after all, right?” Sixiang mused.

Ling Qi nodded, perched on a heavier branch before launching herself to the next, still facing backwards. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. Why are Dreaming Moon spirits so… wild? Shouldn’t a spirit of art and socializing be more… cultured, I guess?”

Sixiang buzzed around the trunk of a particularly large tree, trailing multi-hued mist from their half-corporeal limbs, a thoughtful expression on their face. “Well, I was born here, you know,” Sixiang said. “I probably have cousins like that up north, but in the great Emerald Seas, things aren’t quite so tame, you know?”

“I’ve never seen anything like your Grandmother’s party back in Tonghou,” Ling Qi contended, ducking under a branch without looking as the wind sent the hems of her gown fluttering. “And the Sect is in the Emerald Seas too.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t have!” Sixiang laughed. “The cities and Sects, those are places for humans.”

“And the Emerald Seas isn’t?” Ling Qi asked dryly.

“It wasn’t always. Spirits remember when the Horned Lords walked ‘neath the hallowed boughs and raised their hands and cups to the Moon and Sun,” they said with a poetic lilt.

“They were human though,” Ling Qi pointed out. “They were one of the founding families of the Empire.”

“Is that how you decide what a human is?” Sixiang asked, cocking their head to the side. “Well, that’s fine too.”

“If you say it like that, I don’t feel like you agree at all,” Ling Qi said dryly. “I guess this sort of thing is what Lady Cai meant when she mentioned how troublesome the clans which kept to the Weilu ways were,” she mused.

Something flickered in Sixiang’s glittering black eyes. A hint of discomfort, perhaps? Ling Qi frowned. Now that she thought about it, Sixiang had never followed her anywhere near Cai Renxiang.

“Well, the history lesson doesn’t matter so much,” Ling Qi said, breaking the silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, would you like to stay awhile, even after you… fade?” Ling Qi forged on. “It’s just… I could use someone who can critique my music since I’m going to have to eventually leave the Sect behind and all.” She landed atop a thick branch, bringing her run to stop.

“I thought you might ask,” Sixiang said, bringing themself to a stop a few meters away. “It might be fun for a time.”

“You’ll be able to leave whenever you want, of course,” Ling Qi reassured the spirit. “A different perspective can be useful now and then, you know?”

“I can give that much,” Sixiang replied lightly as they drifted closer. “And things won’t be stagnant around you, or so I think.”

She studied the spirit’s oddly serious expression. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment,” she said flatly.

Sixiang beamed. “You should.” They extended an arm, offering her their half-translucent hand.

Ling Qi studied Sixiang then grasped their hand. It was like holding a bundle of silk, or perhaps a cloud. Directing the qi through her hands, she found the core of energy that was “Sixiang,” and with a deep breath, she forged a connection from that core to her own dantian.

Sixiang immediately collapsed into mist, and Ling Qi shuddered as her entire body shook with a surge of near manic energy. Meanwhile, she felt her qi reserve drop sharply as the connection between her and the now formless spirit strengthened and stabilized. “Spirits, that feels weird,” she muttered, glancing at the dissipating cloud where the spirit had stood.

<Tell me about it,> Sixiang’s voice seemed to whisper in her ear. <It’s all dark, wet, and cold in here.>

Ling Qi sighed.

***

“So then, the goat-man-thing at the center demands a duel like I’m the one who did something wrong!” Ling Qi complained, gesturing with the translucent cup in her hands. Zeqing’s tableware was all made to order, which was definitely convenient.

<You did drop your mist across the whole party,> Sixiang noted, their whispery voice echoing in her ears.

“Half of them didn’t even have pants,” Ling Qi grumbled, disgusted. “It was indecent. They should have been thankful.” If she never saw such a disturbing sight again, she would be happy.

“How beastly,” Zeqing said without expression, hovering in a seated position across the table from her. The drink in her hands sparkled, a deeper blue than the much watered wine in Ling Qi’s own cup. The stuff was apparently made from the fruits of the tree outside Zeqing’s house by members of the Inner Sect.

“Did you beat him up then?” Hanyi asked, bouncing in her own raised seat. “Did you freeze his shorthairs off and make him cry?” The younger spirit sounded disturbingly pleased at the idea.

<You made someone cry alright,> Sixiang laughed, making Ling Qi flush.

“Well, it wasn’t that kind of duel,” Ling Qi replied, looking away and sipping from the sweet wine. It tingled pleasantly all the way down to her stomach. “He pulled out an erhu and started fiddling away, but he wasn’t exactly attacking…”

“I do hope that you crushed his pride for such a challenge,” Zeqing sniffed, partaking elegantly from her own cup. Ling Qi briefly wondered how that worked when Zeqing’s body was just an artificial construction. “My student should not lose to some Dreaming wilding.”

“I played one of the songs I’ve worked on in my free time, which they reacted really strongly to,” Ling Qi continued remembering the audience of human-ish and beastly spirits. “They must all have been really intoxicated, however that works,” she grumbled. How was she to know that her song would make a bunch of wild spirits devolve into empathetic tears? “I definitely won though. The rest of them shouted the goat-thing down when he called for a second round.”

“That’s no fun,” Hanyi pouted. “You should have frozen him a little anyway for being rude.”

“Ling Qi achieved the greater victory,” Zeqing pointed out with a touch of amusement. “What is mere physical discomfort beside humiliation.”

Ling Qi stared down into her cup; she hadn’t been going for that at all. At least the party had been willing to listen to her instructions and move away from the town and roads after that.

<It’s fine. Spirits like that don’t hold grudges. We aren’t made for it,> Sixiang reassured her. <I have to say, I understand why it’s so cold in here now though.>

“Still,” Zeqing said, breaking her from her thoughts. “You have come quite far. I am pleased with your progress,” the spirit added, her normally still lips curving into a smile.

“Thank you for your praise,” Ling Qi replied, feeling a little embarrassed. “And thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“It is no more than you deserve. Your growing mastery of both the Forgotten Vale and my own art has been nothing short of impressive,” Zeqing replied evenly. Ling Qi didn’t miss the way that Hanyi puffed out her cheeks and kicked her bare feet in agitation. She didn’t mind being used as a motivational prop though.

<Look at you being all mature,> Sixiang mused. <What a good Big Sis you are.>

“I’ve been doing well too, right, Mother?” Hanyi asked, a pleading note in her voice.

“You have shown your dedication,” Zeqing answered neutrally.

Ling Qi smiled, reaching over to ruffle the child spirit’s hair. “You’ve been working hard. I bet you’ll catch up to me in your Mother’s arts in no time.”

Hanyi batted her hand away and huffed. “Obviously! I won’t lose,” she declared, crossing her arms.

“It seems I have nothing to worry about then,” Zeqing said lightly, but there was a hint of something else in her voice.

<How frightening. She wants to eat you both.> Sixiang shivered. <You can sit here in front of her, but you freak out at a bit of cavorting. How strange.>

Ling Qi mentally shushed the Dream spirit. Whatever her nature, Zeqing wouldn’t deliberately hurt her. The indecency of the other dream spirits was a whole other matter. “So, what brought on this invitation anyway?”

“Nothing of particular import,” Zeqing replied, raising an eyebrow. “I simply wished to show my delight with your progress. I had thought you might enjoy my refreshments as well,” she added, drinking from her own cup.

“It is very good,” Ling Qi agreed, glancing down at her own watered wine. The sweetness and chill reminded her of a crisp winter’s morning, and it had an odd edge to it that she couldn’t easily describe. “What are the fruits outside anyway?”

“Rimefruit. But I know not what your kind calls this particular breed,” Zeqing answered. “They grow south of the mountains of the Wall, but my presence allows them to grow in these warmer climes.”

They were on top of a mountain above the line of the clouds. If she were a mortal, she would be a frozen corpse, Ling Qi thought a bit incredulously. How cold were the southern lands? “They must be very rare then,” Ling Qi commented. “Are you sure it is fine for me to drink this?”

“My portion of the harvest is at my disposal,” Zeqing said, just a bit sharply. “In any case, you have given us a tale. As your hostess, it is only appropriate that I return the favor.”

Ling Qi took another careful sip of the cool wine and settled in to listen as Zeqing began to spin a tale of confounding a band of Cloud Tribe hunters ranging far from their territory and their increasing panic and desperation as she picked them off one by one.

She found herself smiling as Hanyi clapped in delight with the description of each takedown. The tale was a bit grisly, but… this was nice.

She would look back on this fondly in the coming days.

Chapter 181-Years End 2

Sable Crescent Step. It was one of her first arts, among the three gifted to her by the Grinning Moon at the beginning of the year. With it, she learned to move through shadows, how to move through spaces she could never have fit through, and how to glide between blows with the grace of a dancer.

After she got her dress from Cai Renxiang, she had thought about the art less. The flight granted by her robe made the mobility of Sable Crescent Step less important. But the Sable Crescent Step remained one of the foundations of her combat style.

And she had not yet mastered it.

Like all of the arts granted by the Moon, it was a little odd; it contained more techniques, more lessons. Looking back, the early parts of the art she had cultivated in the first realm seemed incredibly simple. Meditating on those old, crude techniques, Ling Qi felt like she had been a child being propped up by the parent while taking their first steps.

But now, in the third realm, she was nearing mastery. She could finally comprehend the final lessons of the art.

It was hard.

It was so hard not to let her dress pick up the slack of her movements as she ran through the upper mountains, bounding between cliffs and over icy gorges, but slowly, she was refining her mastery.

Darkness was absence, and she was learning to truly become it. Once, she had to make an active effort to avoid leaving footprints in the snow; now her steps left no trace, even when she ceased circulating qi entirely. A hair, separated from her body, would dissolve into inky smoke and be gone in moments.

She was truly traceless to anyone without more esoteric senses. But the technique that would coalesce the Crescent’s Grace and Formless Shade into a single Sable Crescent Step technique remained beyond her. She would soon be able to step and cross space as if the intervening distance did not exist, regardless of barriers, formations, or terrain or lack of shadows. It was the culmination of moving without moving, if at a hefty cost to her qi.

She wasn’t there yet, but she would be soon.

***

<“You should focus on the task at hand,> Sixiang whispered. <You don’t want to slip up here, you know?>

Ling Qi rolled her eyes at the chiding as she peered down at the chattering band of black furred monkeys, the silver crescents on the fur below their eyes marking them as the culprits who had stolen the products she was to retrieve. She searched among the beasts as they chittered and hooted softly, eating, grooming, and otherwise showing no indication that they were aware of her presence.

She had elected to do this without violence. Grinning Crescent Monkeys were not particularly dangerous. They liked to trick, humiliate, and steal, but it was rare for them to do any permanent harm to humans. She might be biased though given her leanings toward moon spirits.

She wondered if she would have sought to bind one of the monkeys if she had not the good fortune of finding Zhengui.

<Not even a thought about me. Should I be hurt?> Sixiang mused.

She didn’t dignify the spirit’s complaint with a response as her eyes fell on a dark lacquered wooden box that despite some chips and scratches, remained sealed and held the mark of the local clan which sold the fruits in question. At the moment, the biggest of the monkeys, which was perhaps the size of Biyu, with a greying tinge to its fur was seated on top of the box, picking bugs out of the fur of a smaller female at his feet. That would make snatching the box a bit trickier.

She could just wait. The monkey would move eventually and give her an opening. She could even use brute force; the monkey was only Mid Yellow. But that seemed a little boring. Ling Qi began to circle through the trees, getting closer to her target. In preparation for her heist, she had pocketed a few pebbles on the trail, and she scanned the rest of the troop.

Picking one with an aura that had a hair more fire than the others, she cast the pebble at the back of the monkey’s head and imitated the beasts’ high, mocking cries, throwing her voice so that it seemed to emanate from within the troop. It only took a few repetitions before the monkeys were worked up into a dander, screeching and chittering at each other.

It was as simple as waiting for the bigger monkey to wade into the developing brawl to crack a couple heads at that point. The box was gone before a single one of them noticed.

... If only the gala Cai was hosting tomorrow could be conquered so effortlessly.

The planning stages hadn’t been so bad. Investigating the guests and subtly poking around for potential ill intentions or troublemaking was even kind of fun. Sun Liling had snubbed Cai’s invitation, but that was the extent of her hostility as far as Ling Qi was able to find. Kang Zihao was going to attend, but to all indications, he seemed to be trying to repair his own social position.

No, it seemed that this gathering was going to go off without violence, which left Ling Qi in the position of having to prepare herself for it. She knew that she was being unreasonable and that she had been rude at the last gathering but it was still hard for her to care. Despite her efforts to psyche herself up and Sixiang’s chatter, she couldn’t say she was looking forward to the gala.

Taking place around one of the pavilions dotting the mountainside, the party started off well enough. She stayed near Cai Renxiang, offering greetings and pleasantries to guests as they arrived. With the occasional whispered aid from Sixiang, Ling Qi thought she did an adequate job. The spirit, for all of their lack of knowledge regarding human etiquette, was very good at picking up what sort of comments people would take as compliments.

Of course, the easy times didn’t last, and soon enough, she was left to her own devices to mingle. Her first task was to soothe the feathers she had rustled in her last outing.

“Let me first apologize for my previous distraction at your gathering,” Ling Qi said smoothly, offering a short bow to Wen Ai. The older girl was just as fancily dressed as the last time she had seen her. “At the time, I was deeply involved with convincing the spirit that had been accompanying me to allow themself to be bound.”

Wen Ai smiled pleasantly, but the expression didn’t feel genuine. “Of course. I can understand,” she replied, gesturing dismissively with the closed silk fan in her hand. “I am not so ungenerous that I cannot forgive a little irregularity for one new to such things.”

Ling Qi smiled through the condescension in the other girl’s words, helped by a guiding prod from Sixiang. In this situation, the dream spirit did not speak distracting words but merely offered flashes of thought and insight. “Thank you for your kindness,” she said politely. “And allow me to offer my late compliments to your abilities as a hostess. I hope this gathering meets your expectations?”

“Lady Cai’s organizational skills are without match,” Wen Ai complimented easily. “I would be pleased to offer my own skills as a decorator the next time,” she added, glancing at the colorful banners strung from the arches and pavilion pillars. “I understand the preference for more plain accoutrements here on the borders, but still…”

“I will convey your offer,” Ling Qi said. “I am afraid there may not be time for another gathering with the tournament upcoming,” she said, keeping the cheer in her voice perfectly bland and not vindictive at all.

Wen Ai smiled, her expression a touch brittle. “My, there is so very little time left until then, isn’t there?” she asked, and it didn’t take Sixiang to read the underlying bitterness to the words. Wen Ai knew well that as a second year, she would have a more difficult path to getting in through the combat tournament this year compared to the first year third realms like Lady Cai or Ling Qi herself. “Ah, might I offer my compliments on the change you have made to your hair?”

Ling Qi blinked, restraining the urge to reach up and touch the silver petaled lily flower helping to pin her braided hair back. Ling Qi had taken the time to update her gear and purchased a couple talismans, one of which was a hairpin with a stylized flower which had replaced her old pin.

“Thank you very much. Ah,” She hesitated before continuing, “Your new necklace brings together that dress very well too.” Thank you, Sixiang, for noticing that new bit of jewelry.

“Thank you,” Wen Ai replied. “I am glad to see you put those rumors to rest.”

“What rumors?” Ling Qi asked with a frown.

The other girl regarded her with wide eyes and a touch of a smile before raising her hand, cupping her mouth as if to hide a secret. “Why, that terrible rumor you might be a barbarian foundling unable to dress or groom yourself properly without Lady Cai’s or Lady Bai’s help.”

Ling Qi felt her eye twitch. “What a rude rumor. Well, I suppose given my cultivation schedule, it can’t be helped that the less dedicated might say foolish things like that.”

“Success does often bring its own troubles,” Wen Ai agreed, perfectly pleasant once more. Neither her nor Sixiang were quite certain if the girl had made that rumor up on the spot.

“Miss Wen, might I have your attention?” a smooth male voice asked, causing them both to turn toward its source. Ling Qi felt her smile become even more strained as she saw Kang Zihao standing there in immaculate white robes, looking none the worse for the wear despite the trouble they had given him.

“I would be happy to speak with you, Sir Kang,” Wen Ai said before glancing back at her. “Miss Ling, might I be excused?”

“You may,” Ling Qi replied. “I hope you have a pleasant evening, Miss Wen, Sir Kang.”

Kang Zihao glanced at her, his disdain obvious in his eyes, if not his expression. “Certainly, Miss Ling. I am glad that our previous encounters have not engendered bad feelings between us.”

LIng Qi smiled, remembering the spear speeding toward her that weekend after the truce had ended. “I would never hold a grudge over something so minor,” she said sweetly. She would leave that to Meizhen.

After the two of them walked away, she let herself take a steadying breath. She had known what she was getting into, joining the Cai. It didn’t mean she enjoyed the reality. She glanced across the field, her eyes landing on Han Jian and Fan Yu. There was her chance to take a breather before forcing herself back into socializing.

She was looking forward to going to the village to spend time with her family after this though.

***

To an outside observer, Ling Qi would appear the very picture of poise and calm. Indeed, to any of the mortals respectfully stepping out of her path as she proceeded up the road toward her mother’s house, there was not even the slightest indication of turmoil.

Internally…

<Big Sister, does Zhengui have to stay small the whole time?> Zhengui complained, his mental voice an odd mix of his two voices.

<For today,> Ling Qi thought soothingly. <It would make your Big Sis very happy if you could make a good impression on Mother and Biyu.>

She felt a whiff of dissatisfaction from him, but Zhengui was mature enough not to complain further. <Zhengui will not fail Big Sis,> he said determinedly instead, tone bleeding over closer to Zhen. <Zhengui is ready to meet Big Sis’ other family.>

Ling Qi almost shook her head. His last statement wasn’t directed at her, and the haughty way he said it… She might have given the wrong impression.

<You sure are,> Sixiang chirped cheerfully inside of her head. <A cute, strong little guy like you couldn’t fail to impress.>

She felt Zhengui doing the telepathic equivalent of spluttering. <Obviously! Just you watch!>

Ling Qi had seen and felt this scenario play out several times over the past week, ever since the first time she had dematerialized Zhengui and introduced him to Sixiang. Whenever the young snake-tortoise started winding himself up over the new spirit’s presence, Sixiang would deflect and deflate him with playful compliments or simply by agreeing with him in a flattering way.

Her little brother was really weak to flattery, or at least unprepared for it.

The latest rub had been her decision to avoid introducing Sixiang to her family for now, namely because she didn’t want to try to explain to her mother that the voice in her head was a separate person. Zhengui had thus been disgruntled about being the only one who had to clean up and prepare himself to meet the family.

Paying only a bit of mind to the mostly good-natured back and forth between the spirits, Ling Qi turned down the street where her mother’s house was. Soon, she passed by the two men standing guard at the street entrance and the servant attending the door. It was amazing the sort of changes one could get used to in only a year.

“Sis!” She found her mother and sister in the sitting room where the little girl had been seated on her mother’s lap. The older woman let out a mild sigh as she closed the book she was holding and lifted her arm to allow Biyu to wiggle out of her grasp.

“Hello, little sister,” Ling Qi said, falling into a crouch as the little girl crossed the room to stand before her. “Have you been behaving for Mother?”

“Mhm!” the little girl responded, bouncing on her feet. “Sis fly now?” she asked excitedly.

“I had been getting her ready for her nap,” Ling Qi’s mother said, her tone faintly chiding as she approached Ling Qi as well, the storybook that had been in her hands now tucked under her arm.

“I forgot the time, I guess,” Ling Qi said with an apologetic smile. “Maybe we can fly later, little sister. I wanted to show you and Mother someone very important today,” she continued more seriously.

Biyu puffed out her cheeks in disappointment, but her mother only frowned slightly. Ling Qi caught the older woman peering into the hall behind her searchingly. “Ling Qi, you should have given us time to prepare for guests,” Ling Qingge fretted. “Please tell me that we have time.”

“It’s nothing so formal,” Ling Qi reassured her. “It’s only family after all.”

As she spoke, she gave Zhengui a mental prod, and the young spirit’s essence flowed from her dantian. The air at her feet shimmered, the temperature rising slightly as the solid form of the little snake-tortoise coalesced from thin air. In this shrunken form, Zhengui was the size of an adult tortoise and Zhen, coiled atop his shell, was no larger than a small garden snake.

“Hello!” Gui chirped cheerfully, breaking the surprised silence.

“Hmph. They cannot understand you, foolish Gui,” Zhen hissed lazily, examining Mother and Biyu as he did.

Ling Qi smiled. Her little sister’s eyes were wide, and she was emitting a wordless excited sound. “Magic turtle!” she exclaimed, crouching down to peer at the shrunken snake-tortoise.

On the other hand, Mother’s brow was creased in both concern and wonder as her gaze traced the length of Zhen’s coils to their point of termination. “I recall you mentioned such, but…” She shook her head in disbelief, taking a step closer as Biyu began to reach out to pet the “magic turtle.” “Are you certain it is safe?”

“Zhengui is as intelligent as you or I,” Ling Qi replied, sending a silent message to Zhengui to be patient with Biyu. “Biyu, remember he isn’t a toy. Petting is fine, but don’t grab.”

<Little humans sure are incautious, huh,> Sixiang mused. <Well, they probably still have better survival instincts than your average fairy, so I guess I can’t say anything.>

“Big Sister should not worry,” Zhen hissed, pleased at the little girl’s attention. “The little sister is safe with Zhen.”

“Mhmm! Leave things to Big Brother Gui,” his other half chirped, leaning into Biyu’s petting. “Gui will not disappoint Big Sister!”

“I will trust your word,” Ling Qingge said, oblivious to the conversation going on as she leaned down herself to peer over Biyu’s shoulder. “Greetings, Honored Spirit. Please be welcome in our home.”

“No need to be so formal,” Ling Qi said, standing up. “Zhengui is a little brother to me. Please treat him as family,” she continued even as she saw Zhen preen at the treatment. Between Sixiang and Mother, a little ego deflation might be necessary.

“Grandmother is silly but nice,” Gui chirped. Ling Qi twitched a little at the implication.

“... Sis, turtle makes whispers.” Ling Qi blinked as her attention was drawn back to Biyu. The little girl had fallen back on her bottom and was peering at Zhengui with wide eyes.

“Can you understand him, Biyu?” Ling Qi asked, sharing a surprised look with her mother.

“Nuh-uh.” The little girl shook her head. “Too quiet,” she added as she climbed back to her feet, pouting at Zhengui. “Turtle, speak up!”

“Will that help?” Gui asked, confused. “Should Gui yell, Big Sister?”

“No, yelling won’t help, Zhengui,” Ling Qi replied. “You’ll have to wait until you’re older to hear him clearly, little sister.”

Biyu continued to pout but then glanced up at her mother, or rather, the book under her mother’s arm. “Like the princess!” she said, clapping her hands as if that explained everything.

Ling Qi shared another look with Mother, who seemed rather off-balance. “... Why don’t I see to having tea and refreshments prepared?” The older woman needed a moment to collect herself.

“Sure,” Ling Qi replied agreeably. “I can watch Biyu. Please don’t worry about Zhengui. I have his food with me.”

“Of course,” her mother said faintly, turning away.

Ling Qi supposed that the question of whether her little sister would be able to cultivate was answered.

Thankfully, there weren’t any more surprises that day. Biyu enjoyed playing in the garden with Zhengui, and Mother’s nerves just needed a cup of tea. Her family was settling into the Sect village well, which almost made her regret that she would have to move them again in a fairly short time.

Ling Qi was sure that she could make a home just as comfortable wherever the Duchess assigned them though, so she didn’t worry over it too much.

Chapter 182-Years End 3

The days passed quickly, long hours of cultivation passed by in moments as she progressed toward new levels of mastery.

The mountain was peaceful. Even the constant background noise of sanctioned duels faded away as more and more disciples entered closed door cultivation, pushing for some last edge or skill increase. Ling Qi wasn’t much different in that regard, although her training with Lady Cai was taking on a more academic edge.

Instead of sparring or receiving the heiress’ techniques, she found herself spending a lot of time in the market gathering information on the activity of the disciples there and polishing skills she had left to rust over the course of the year. It didn’t hinder her cultivation too much, but it was hard work to stay focused when dealing with uninteresting things like sales numbers and inventories.

Most of her remaining time went toward the Sect job she had accepted. Frankly, it wasn’t something she normally would have taken, but the job board was growing emptier by the day, and it was one of the two highest paying jobs left. Thankfully, she wasn’t stuck doing the tedious work alone. Li Suyin was among the other disciples who had taken the job to replant the scar in the forest.

The sun shined and beat down on the field of crumbled rubble and dirt where the ground had collapsed. The fine gray dust that had covered everything had been replaced by dark loamy soil at some point since the last time Ling Qi had seen the area. Ahead of her and Li Suyin, Zhengui trudged, happily breathing out clouds of drifting, wood qi infused ash that settled into the soil as they passed. Around them, a half dozen skeletal birds of various species fluttered through the air, scattering various seeds from pouches hung from their bony forms.

Ling Qi and Li Suyin both had more expensive satchels crafted with space expanding formations to allow them to hold seedlings from various tree species. While their companions took care of the more indiscriminate work, the two girls would stop every so often to plant a new tree at the proper flag-marked points in the dirt.

“I see you’ve really improved those scouts,” Ling Qi said as they crouched down at the next flag. She began to prepare the ground for planting.

Li Suyin glanced up to watch one of her constructs. The skeletal bird was nearly organic in its motion with only a hint of the jerkiness that marked Ling Qi’s own constructs. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve figured out several improvements for them, and if you have time today, I’ve received permission from Senior Sister Bao to invite you to the workshop. The constructs have been very useful for my anatomical studies, so I have been giving them some focus.”

“But not all of it, I hope,” Ling Qi teased.

“I have been getting out,” Li Suyin huffed, but even the response to her teasing seemed muted.

“What’s bothering you?” LIng Qi asked as she finished the hole she had been digging. “Every time I’ve seen you for the past few days, you’ve been fretting over something.”

Li Suyin looked away, even as she placed the seedling and began to pack the soil back in around its roots. “Have I? I know I have been a little distracted, but…”

“I am sure the only reason Su Ling hasn’t called you on it is that she’s been off-kilter herself,” Ling Qi interjected. “So spill. What’s wrong?”

“It is nothing so bad as you might be thinking,” Li Suyin replied. “It’s just… My family is coming to visit for the tournament.”

Ling Qi frowned. “I thought mortals weren’t going to be allowed at the arena?” she asked. “Ah, is it different for the production track?”

Li Suyin shook her head and brushed the dirt from her hands, standing back up. “No, Mother and Father just want to be here to support me, even if they can’t observe directly.”

“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Ling Qi said as she stood up as well,moving to the next flag. She had never heard her friend speak of her parents in less than glowing tones.

Li Suyin shifted uncomfortably. “I haven’t told them some things,” she admitted in a quiet voice, and Ling Qi didn’t miss the way that Suyin’s left hand twitched as if she wanted to reach for her eye. “I’m just afraid that they might be disappointed with the kind of person I’ve become.”

Ling Qi kept her expression neutral. “You probably shouldn’t have left something like your eye as a surprise,” she agreed. “But I don’t understand what you mean. You’re still the same good person you were to begin with.” She glanced up at the constructs circling around. “Maybe hold off on showing off your workshop. I don’t know how squeamish your parents are.”

Li Suyin laughed, but she didn’t sound particularly amused. “I do not think greeting Mother and Father from atop a palanquin hefted by skeleton soldiers would give the right impression, no,” she said with a touch of sarcasm.

Ling Qi shot her friend a narrow-eyed look. “Since when do you do sarcastic?” she asked. “Wait, is that an actual thing? I want a ride if so.”

<At least you have your priorities straight,> Sixiang mumbled sleeplily. The light of high noon had left the bodiless spirit drowsy.

“I was working on a design with Senior Sister Bao, but we could not get the animation of legs done with proper coordination and balance…” Li Suyin shook her head, cutting off her own tangent. “No, Ling Qi, the point is… I have not been a good person,” she said. “It might be beneath your notice, but I have been going out of my way to make sure those girls are miserable whenever I have the opportunity. I know it isn’t right to pursue a grudge so, but… I just cannot let it go.”

Ling Qi shot her friend a wary look. “You haven’t broken Lady Cai’s peace, have you?”

Suyin shook her head, her expression bitter. “No, and that makes it worse,” she huffed. “I have become one of those people who spit on the spirit of the law while obeying its letter. How can I face Father like this?” she fretted.

“Li Suyin… what have you been doing?”

The other girl looked down as they reached the next spot. “It started with using Senior Sister Bao’s connections to ruin the market for them,” she mumbled. “Price gouging, refusing sales, purchasing rare reagents I know they need before they can acquire them - that sort of thing.”

“And she’s okay with that?” Ling Qi asked dubiously.

“Senior Sister Bao said that it was good practice. She doesn’t see anything wrong with my vendetta as long as it doesn’t cross the line into illegality.” Li Suyin didn’t stop with that worrying statement. “Then after I had time to bond with Zhenli, I started making deals with her kin… I traded them things to ruin those girls’ Sect jobs where possible or just to ambush them and leave them to hang in the woods for a few days, cocooned and helpless. I made sure that they were never badly hurt, but...”

“If you want me to scold you, you’re speaking to the wrong person,” Ling Qi said, cutting her off. “As long as you aren’t doing anything permanent…”

“I am not like them,” Li Suyin fiddled with the strap of her eyepatch.

“Right. You won’t hear me speaking poorly of you… but you’re worried that your parents will,” Ling Qi’s first notion was to suggest not telling them, but she was fairly sure Li Suyin wouldn’t accept that.

“Nobles and cultivators should be above this sort of pettiness, even though I know they are not,” Suyin said glumly.

“You’re being too hard on yourself like always,” Ling Qi said with a touch of exasperation. “You all but said that you know you’re being unreasonable,” she added as she began to work on the next planting.

“I know it is not reasonable, but I cannot change my own feelings.”

“If your Mother and Father are half as good as you hold them up to be, they’ll understand,” Ling Qi said, meeting her friend’s eye. “There’s nothing wrong with giving someone who hurt you their comeuppance.”

Her friend closed her eyes for a moment. “... As you say. Let us get back to the task at hand though. We have much work yet to do today.”

“So we do,” Ling Qi sighed. The things she would do for Sect points…

***

After completing the Sect job and receiving their rewards, Ling Qi accepted Li Suyin’s invitation to Bao Qingling’s workshop to show off the other improvements Suyin had made with the scout formations. The journey to Bao Qingling’s workshop took them deeper into the Wall. It was not far enough to intrude on the Inner Sect, but it was about as far in as the dragon’s vale.

Ling Qi and Li Suyin landed at the top of the bulbous structure which clung to the wall of the canyon below. It was shaped vaguely like a gourd with a smaller bulb stacked atop a larger one. Chimneys of metal and stone poked out of the structure at odd angles, billowing colorful and aromatic medicinal smoke. Most of the structure, however, was composed entirely of thick white webbing. Somewhat disturbingly, Ling Qi could see disturbances in the air where spirits of wind had been captured in the webbing, and even as she watched, arachnid legs as long as her arm poked out to drag a struggling spirit inside.

Happily, she didn’t have too long to contemplate this as Suyin opened an entrance in the top of the structure. Webs parted smoothly to reveal a ladder leading down.

Suyin politely invited her in, and Ling Qi followed her down the ladder. The tunnel leading down into the workshop was kind of claustrophobic, and the feel of so many skittering spirit spiders all around them gave her a case of goosebumps, but otherwise, their entry went by in comfortable silence. A quick walk down the rightmost tunnel at the three way intersection at the bottom of the ladder brought them to a room slightly larger than Suyin’s workshop at her home. The room was furnished with tabletops and other worksurfaces glued to the walls, often at heights and angles that left them impossible to reach from the floor. It was also positively saturated with the skeletons of birds, ranging from tiny to huge.

It was also occupied. Li Suyin’s mentor, Bao Qingling, looked much like she had the first time Ling Qi had met her at the Medicine Hall, an unhealthily pale girl with dark circles under her eyes with black hair gathered into a thick braid wrapped twice around her neck. Rather than a gown, she wore a set of dark brown, bulky leathers, including boots and gloves that left her looking a bit shapeless, especially with the thick work smock she wore, stained and scorched in many places.

Unlike before though, Ling Qi could feel the Inner disciple’s qi more clearly. Bao Qingling was at the fourth level of the third realm, and her aura felt jagged and murky like a deep pit full of sharp stone concealed by thick, clinging mist and webs.

“Senior Sister Bao,” Li Suyin greeted as she caught sight of the older girl. “Thank you for allowing me to bring my friend here today.”

“Thank you for having me, Senior Sister,” Ling Qi added politely, offering a bow of her own.

The Inner Sect disciple studied her then nodded once crisply. “You are welcome - in this room. I ask that you remain in this room however,” she said, her words uncolored by anything but polite disinterest. “It would be unfortunate if excessive curiosity were to cause us friction,” she added. Ling Qi supposed she could understand; the story of what she had done to Yan Renshu was probably open knowledge at this point.

“I will, of course, respect Senior Sister Bao’s privacy. It would be very rude for me to repay your kindness to my friend and hospitality with treachery,” Ling Qi replied.

“Quite,” Bao Qingling said without humor before nodding to Li Suyin. “Do not forget your schedule, Junior Sister Suyin,” she said. “Junior Sister Ling, give my regards to Lady Cai if you would.” Bao Qingling stamped her foot once on the floor. The webbing under her feet parted with an odd stretching sound, and the older girl vanished into the resulting hole. Ling Qi caught a glimpse of chitinous legs and gleaming eyes, as well as a pair of oddly human hands composed of gleaming black chitin in the moment before it closed again.

“Huh. I wonder what that was about,” Ling Qi mused, warily eyeing the floor .

“The Bao family is a count clan which administers the north under the Cai family,” Li Suyin answered. “I’m sure that Senior Sister Bao was just offering her respects.”

“I really do have to do some more research,” Ling Qi sighed. Perhaps she could speak to Cai about that; learning from her would probably be more fruitful and interesting than poking through books on the matter, and she could pick up what the heiress thought of the various players. “Well, why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on?”

“I’ve discovered how to activate the fusion formations in the advanced scouts without untoward amounts of blood,” Li Suyin explained, leading her over to a wide surface scattered with a score of tiny bird skeletons and strewn with papers packed with notes and calculations. “As you can see here, it was simply a matter of…” Suyin went through her proofs as Ling Qi leaned over her shoulder and followed along.

While Ling Qi felt that she wasn’t really suited to formations mastery, in a situation like the tournament, it would be good to have a few tricks up her sleeve that were outside her main skillset. A combat construct could certainly be that.

She watched as Li Suyin demonstrated her new formation, merging a great swarm of little sparrow skeletons into a bony horror in the vague shape of a large eagle.

“You really are great at this kind of thing, Li Suyin,” Ling Qi commented, peering into the empty “eye” socket of the “eagle” now perched on Suyin’s work surface. Its head was made of a dozen tiny skulls partially merged together like the crow she had seen during the Sect mission with the shaman. It was a creepy effect.

“It is not just size either,” Li Suyin pointed out. “The more complex array matrix allows for more advanced effects as well.”

The skeletal eagle on the workbench let out a shrill cry, and its bones pulsed with a faint blue light. Ling Qi blinked as she felt the activation of an actual technique, some kind of defensive water art.

“You made a construct that can use techniques?” Ling Qi asked.

“Well, only one, and it has to be pre-encoded by the user so it can’t be changed in battle,” Li Suyin admitted.

Regardless, Ling Qi could see the use in that. If she had a construct that could cast defensive or support techniques on her, it would allow her to focus on her offense in the tournament.

“Are you sure you really want to just show me all of this?” Ling Qi asked, dubious. “You’ve done all the work on this. You practically had to rebuild the entire formation from scratch!”

“I don’t mind at all,” Li Suyin replied, shaking her head. “It is your treasure that allowed this anyway, and… I do not feel as if there needs to be transactions between us.”

Ling Qi eyed her friend, sensing no insincerity from the other girl. “I won’t complain then,” Ling Qi said. “It’ll definitely be a useful surprise to pull out in the tournament.”

Bonus Chapter-Duty

“ORRRAAAA!!!”

His fist struck steel, and steel gave way.

The man behind it did not.

“You’re improving!” Gan Guangli laughed.

The young man behind the raised shield straightened up. He eyed the round steel shield in his hands ruefully. It was rather more concave than it had been at the start. “Sir Gan is too kind… but I believe that was the last practice shield.”

“I suppose we’ll have to do some other exercises, until the smithing disciples can recycle the steel,” Gan Guangli chuckled. He clapped a hand on the young man, Gun Jun’s shoulder. “Go ahead and take a breather my friend!”

Gan Guangli turned to observe the rest of the field as Gun Jun bowed and turned away. He was feeling well today. There was nothing quite like good, healthy physical exertion to clear the mind and buoy the spirit! Watching the council’s enforcers practicing around him only reinforced that. By keeping them together, helping them together, he had helped to forge these dozen odd disciples into more than disparate individuals. They were friends and siblings in arms, and he could not be prouder of their progress!

He saw some few notice his attention, and he beamed cheerfully, offering an encouraging wave. Some held that a captain should be dour faced and stingy with praise, but that was not his way. These people, his people, looked to him for encouragement. Some called him crude and foolish. He knew that his laughter stiffened their spines, and his cheer hardened their resolve. That was what he wanted to be, an example, a rallying point, a ray of light in an often grim world. He wished to help others believe that justice was real.

Gan Guangli wished to provide others with some small portion of the hope which Lady Cai instilled in him.

That was the duty that she had given to him two years ago, on that last day in his village, when she had offered her hand and asked him to follow. She had shown him that justice was not just a word, that law was not merely the cudgel of the strong, but the loom on which the fabric of a good, prosperous society could be woven. Gan Guangli clenched his fist.

He would live up to her belief in him, even if it cost him his life.

“Everyone is doing well,” Gun Jun said quietly falling in beside him. He was a good man, loyal and true. “But is it going to be enough?”

His only flaw was a certain predilection to pessimism. “You are all certainly strong enough to maintain our lady’s peace. But you mean the tournament, don’t you?” Gan Guangli asked

“I do. I am not so foolish as to think I have a chance at the inner sect in a year with so many titans, my worry is for you Lord Gan.” Gun Jun said. “Should you not be focusing more on yourself and your own strength? The time which you spend on us…”

Gan Guangli’s smile faded. “Gun Jun. You and the others have supported me since the earliest days of the council. I will not abandon you for my own strength now.”

For once there was no laughter in his voice. He looked down at his friend, noting his pained expression. “Spending my efforts like this is no sacrifice. I would not tarnish my Way with such selfishness, right at its beginning.”

For many, the third realm was a time of finding oneself, and choosing a path. It was not such for Gan Guangli, who saw his road with clear eyes. He knew what he wanted, and though there might be unexpected turns in his path, he knew his destination.

“Lord Gan…” Gun Jun began, his face still troubled.

“Come along now Gun Jun,” Gan Guangli laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. “Haven’t I told you that there is no need to give me such titles while we practice? If you truly wish to help me, come along and lets have a spar!.”

To his credit, he didn’t stumble. He would have a few months ago, Gan Guangli thought proudly. Instead, he sighed. “Of course Lord Gan. May I request that you not hurl me out of the training grounds this time?”

“Come now, Gun Jun, you don’t know that your foes in the future will not catch your spear that way!” Gan chuckled, his long stride already eating up distance to a clear pitch.

“Perhaps, but I feel as if we would both gain more from the spar if you restrain yourself somewhat,” Gun Jun said dryly.

“Hmm, Hmm, your captain will consider this request,” Gan Guangli said with good humor. Really, it had been one time. He had been overexcited about his mastery of one of his arts and forgotten to hold back properly. “Perhaps you would prefer that I bring Miss Ling back for an exercise or two instead?”

Gun Jun winced visibly. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Lord Gan may sometimes forget his strength, but Lady Ling has no restraint at all.”

“There is value in that,” Gan Guangli said more seriously. He did not regret requesting Miss Ling’s help. It was necessary for his people to learn the terror of an un-countered spiritual specialist. That she had some particularly distressing arts really just drove the lesson in better.

The beasts and spirits that lurked in the dark places of the Emerald Seas would not be any more merciful.

“...It is so,” Gun Jun agreed, catching his more serious tone. “Do you believe we need another such session?”

“Not just yet,” Gan Guangli replied, stepping into the sparring circle. “Besides, Miss Ling is quite busy.”

They did not quite know each other well, and he knew that she had not joined his Lady with the same zeal that he had. This did not bother Gan Guangli. She would come around, and until then, she was not the sort to betray another’s trust, once her word was given, he thought. He did not begrudge her for focusing on her own cultivation.

Her way was not his. This was as it should be. The Cai could not transform the broken place that was the Emerald Seas with only soldiers and light. There was a place for shadows and song.

Gan Guangli set his feet, and brought his gauntlet clad hands together with a crash of steel on steel. “Now come Gun Jun, and show me what you can do!”

Chapter 183-Years End 4

Between further tutoring, cultivation, and the Sect job overseeing construction at the outskirts of the village, Ling Qi found her free time limited, and so she did not often find time to stop at home during the week. In what time she did have, she made sure to offer her congratulations to Cui on her breakthrough, along with a small gift. The second grade rabbit had been caught by Zhengui, but he was too embarrassed to make the gift himself. Ling Qi thought it rather cute.

Though it was clear that the younger Bai still didn’t like her much, some of the ill feeling between them had faded. Then again, Ling Qi was perhaps biased; she would be willing to take a great deal of time with a passive aggressive serpent over the mind-numbing duties of the Sect job she had accepted. There was no challenge in it. These lands were too tame for anything really dangerous to come out, so she was left to simply scare away minor spirits and deal with accidents for hours on end. Still, jobs were drying up in the lead up to the year’s end, and points were points.

She was excited to see the end of her shift, and headed up to the vent to train with Su Ling. She was on the cusp of mastering the fifth pulse of the Thousand Ring Fortress art, and the other girl’s help would allow her to reach an understanding of the art’s new technique, Thousand Rings Unbreaking. The new technique drew upon the image of the eldest trees of the Emerald Seas, ancient and nigh invulnerable, akin to living mountains. Successful activation would bolster defenses and allow Ling Qi and some of her allies to become immune to effects which would involuntarily move them or grapple them.

In addition to cultivation though, Ling Qi did have other reasons to be interested in meeting Su Ling.

<What an adorable little girl!> Sixiang gushed as her friend’s new spirit popped her head up out of Su Ling’s hair. The spirit, a black furred bat with red markings, had taken a liking to clinging to the back of her binder’s neck and was normally somewhat hidden beneath the vulpine girl’s untidy tresses.

“Is that why you’ve been growing out your hair?” Ling Qi asked, amused at the picture that had been presented to her.

“No, she’s just a stubborn little fuzzball,” Su Ling grumbled. “She doesn’t like staying in spiritual form, and she won’t go off on her own either,” she continued. Her ears twitched, and she sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to watch my back.”

<Avenging Crescent Bats are pretty paranoid,> Sixiang mused. <Your friend must have a strong sense of justice to snag one as a companion.>

Ling Qi supposed so. Her smile faltered when she leaned closer and the little bat gave a hiss and burrowed back into Su Ling’s hair. What was with her friends’ spirits not liking her? At least she could probably put this one down to general demeanor. “Can she not talk yet, or is she just being shy?”

“I’m not sure,” Su Ling answered. “I can understand her, but she won’t talk to anybody else. Thanks again for the info on moon spirits by the way. I never would have thought to go that far away from the mountain on my own.”

“You’re welcome,” Ling Qi replied, taking a step away. “I’m glad to help you out when I can. I know I haven’t been the most sociable, but…”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate. I understand,” Su Ling interrupted. “So do I. It’s not like we don’t keep in contact.”

Ling Qi relaxed, a bit of tension leaving her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said, smiling. They still trained together regularly. Perhaps that wasn’t enough to stay close to Han Jian, but for Su Ling, it was enough. “Shall we get started then?”

“I suppose,” Su Ling grumbled good-naturedly. “You’re lucky I’m not the one who has to re-sharpen the training swords after I blunt them on that wood armor of yours or I wouldn’t do this.”

Ling Qi laughed. “I’m glad the Sect takes care of them then.”

***

Ling Qi whirled among the phantom dancers, her steps carrying her from one narrow pillar to another. Amidst the smoky mist and pulsing beat of lunatic song though, a foreign element intruded. A searing line of light cut through the air above her, forcing Ling Qi to snap backwards, bending until her back was nearly parallel to the ground. A twisting pirouette carried her around a second blinding line, her hair fanning out behind her with the motion as it cut diagonally through the revelling crowd. Ling Qi’s phantoms laughed and danced amidst an ever-shifting web of light, their half-human features cast in sharp relief with each strobe.

Cai Renxiang’s stern voice cut through all the noise as clear as day. “The seven count clans of Emerald Seas. Minimum profile,” the heiress stated tersely, strained as she fought to control so many vectors of light.

Ling Qi grimaced as a trailing leap and a midair spin carried her through a rapidly narrowing gap in the shifting grid of light, and her mind raced, putting together the answers to the question. “Meng clan: controls the western marshes; staunch Weilu conservatives; former ties with the Bai, but then backed Sun Shao; neutral and distant at court; isolanist.”

The dance continued unabated as she strained to speak quickly and concisely without allowing a single rapidly shifting light to touch her. “Wang and Jia clans: smallest clans; territories in the southern hills near the Sects; nominally Imperial conservatives; mining interests; elevated by the Duchess; loyal and supportive at court; pushing aggressive moves against the Cloud Tribes.”

“Very good.” Cai Renxiang hung overhead like a miniature star, tendrils of light snapping and crawling through the air behind her while the sleeves of her gown very slowly unraveled with the qi put into maintaining this regiment breaker of a technique.

Ling Qi lacked the time to acknowledge the praise, but some part of her noticed the movements of her phantoms growing smoother and more natural, the edges of the revel creeping outward with each step. She was coming closer to her goal of mastering the second revel of the Phantasmagoria. “Bao clan: wealthiest of the seven count families; controls the northern trade cities and the routes into Celestial Peaks; Imperial conservatives; mercantile inclinations; heavy production focus; neutral at court; opposes further military expansion in the south.”

The lights began to move faster, and Ling Qi frowned as she danced the steps of the Illustrious Phantasmal Festival faster than ever before to keep up. “Luo clan: keepers of the eastern marches; ties to Golden Fields; on the rise due to recovery in neighbors and increased trade; nominal Weilu conservatives; did not support the Duchess, but did not oppose; found loyal; warrior clan with large presence in military; aggressive in general.”

“And the last?” Cai Renxiang asked from on high.

“Diao clan: rules a portion of the central region; ambitious, but the Cai clan’s greatest supporters; only count clan with an active seventh realm cultivator; young clan; heavy clashes with more conservative factions on various matters; expansionist interests; aligned with Jia.”

The heiress lowered her hand, and the ever-shifting lines of light began to fade. “I am pleased with your recall. That will be sufficient for the moment.”

Ling Qi grimaced as she allowed the phantoms to fade at last. That had merely been the last of the questions; they had been at this for hours, and her meridians burned with the strain of keeping the festival active. But she had done it. She had refined her control enough that the cost of keeping the festival active had dropped to a relative trickle. “I’m not sure I’m a fan of this style of exercise,” LIng Qi joked as she caught her breath.

“Is that so?” Cai Renxiang questioned as she drifted down amidst the dissolving revel, her arms bare to the shoulder. The heiress’ muscle tone was surprisingly sharp, Ling Qi mused. Most female cultivators maintained a softer look. “You seem to retain information much more efficiently under stress.”

Ling Qi huffed, blowing a strand of her escaped hair out of her eyes. “I have no defense against that,” she admitted sheepishly. It was easy for her attention to wander in more scholastic settings, but the threat of searing beams of light had a way of focusing her attention. “I suppose I can’t complain. I’ve definitely mastered this art as far as it can go at the moment.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” Cai replied. “Though the source is a troublesome one, a mastery of such an art will grant you a degree of esteem amongst certain clans.”

<Of course that’s how she sees it,> Sixiang murmured sulkily. <Weft and weave, all in its place.>

Ling Qi paused, shooting a questioning thought toward her spirit but receiving no reply. That was odd; Sixiang was usually silent in Cai Renxiang’s presence. “The Weilu conservatives, right?”

The heiress nodded sharply. “Those clans still make heavy use of the spirits and arts of the Sun and Moon compared to more Imperial clans. You seem to have a talent for dealing with such entities, so I expect you to make use of it in the future.”

“No point wasting talent,” Ling Qi replied agreeably, glancing down at herself. She was mildly disheveled and more than a bit sweaty.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Cai Renxiang turned away. “Come. Let us refresh ourselves. This has been sufficient exercise for the day.”

“I suppose so,” Ling Qi said, stretching her arms overhead as she moved to follow the heiress, skipping from pillar to pillar as they headed for the exit. “Where has Gan Guangli been this week anyway?” She couldn’t say she minded the boy joining them, particularly when they were doing exercises that necessitated leaving heavier armor out.

“Mastering his primary art further in seclusion,” her liege replied, and Ling Qi caught a touch of the dry amusement that passed for humor in the heiress’ tone. “You may have your distraction back soon enough.”

Ling Qi frowned playfully at the girl’s back. She could never tell if the heiress was genuine when it came to the little bits of casual behavior she let slip in her presence.

<Ten million threads to weave a doll, and still it is incomplete.> Sixiang sighed. <Just because she knows how to speak to you doesn’t mean she understands.>

Well, wasn’t that a cheerful thought, Ling Qi mused, hurrying to catch up.

***

“You’re pretty persistent,” Han Jian commented, leaning back against the railing of the balcony. They were on the second floor of the Sect village’s teahouse, overlooking the gardens below.

“So I’ve heard on occasion,” Ling Qi replied in a dry tone, taking a careful sip from the tea laid out on the table beside her. “You accepted the invitation though.”

“How could I refuse when you made the offer as a subordinate of the Cai?” he asked. “I’m not going to forgive you for that stack of correspondence and contracts I have to review and send home now.”

“Sorry,” Ling Qi apologized, her smile giving the lie to that statement. “But isn’t this what you call ‘making connections?’” she asked guilelessly.

Han Jian shot her an unimpressed look. “I think I liked you better as a naive provincial girl.”

“Things were simpler then, weren’t they?” Ling Qi mused. “Well, maybe not, but I’m still thankful for what you did back then.”

“Didn’t we have this conversation before?” Han Jian asked, sounding a touch tired as he crossed his arms over his tiger striped outer robe.

“We did, but I think we’re past the point where we can interfere with each other’s interests,” Ling Qi shot back. “We aren’t close, but I hope we can put some of the tension away at this point.”

Han Jian scrubbed his hand through his hair, looking up at the sky. “Yeah… I think that’d be fine,” he agreed after a moment. “I’m not sure what you expect to get out of this though. We’re not likely to see each other much next year.”

Ling Qi frowned. Those words were awfully fatalistic, all but outright admitting that Han Jian did not think he was going to make it into the Inner Sect. “Even so, do I need to get anything out of it? You didn’t, after all.”

“Fair point,” he sighed. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret helping you.”

Even though her presence seemed to be the catalyst for a lot of problems, Ling Qi mused silently. True, she could see that all the cracks that had been revealed over the course of the year had been present at the beginning, but it must be difficult not to blame her given the timing.

“I’m glad. You’re kind, I think -” and wasn’t that at odds with her image of wealthy young masters “- and I hope you can do well in the future.” She couldn’t help but suspect that that kind of attitude would not be to his advantage.

<Things aren’t quite so bleak as all that,> Sixiang whispered. <Loyalty and admiration, honestly won, has its own strength.>

“Hmm. I can't quite tell if you’re complimenting me there,” Han Jian noted, reflecting her own thoughts. “In the end though, I won’t compromise who I am. That is what it means to be a cultivator,” he said. “I wish you luck in your future endeavors as well.”

“I will graciously accept your well wishes,” Ling Qi replied. “And in a few hundred years, you can say that the High Chancellor of the Emerald Seas is a friend of yours.”

“Ha! You’ve gotten ambitious, haven’t you? Isn’t making a claim like that a little dangerous?”

“Maybe, but a cultivator has to take a risk now and then, you know?” Ling Qi smirked.

“In that case, let it be said that the Marquis of Han will not forget his youthful ties,” Han Jian replied with a snort.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ling Qi laughed. “Now sit down. I can hear the server at the bottom of the stairs.”

Chapter 184-Years End 5

With this the last week before the start of the tournament, Ling Qi redoubled her efforts to deepen her understanding of many of her core arts, building off the last few months of heavy practice. Ling Qi achieved the sixth step in her Sable Crescent Step art, gaining the coalesced Grinning Crescent Dancer technique. This was the culmination of the arts other techniques, allowing her to access the full utility of her movement art.

When not cultivating, with the help of Li Suyin, she constructed an eagle Ossuary Horror and the bird scouts that made it up. Carving so many of the tiny formation arrays into the bones of the skulls and spines of the little birds that would make up her construct was time-consuming. Tedium aside, her efforts paid off.

She kept it assembled and active while stored in her ring so that she would be able to release it as quickly as she could draw a weapon. With Deepwood Vitality stored in the horror, she had no doubt it would be able to serve its purpose as a screen and support in at least one battle. She would need to choose the best moment to deploy it.

Ling Qi was spending spirit stones like water in these last few days. Even the lingering frugality of her mortal days couldn’t make her regret it. Her Sect points were spent as quickly as she gained them to receive tutoring.

With the help of an Inner Sect tutor, she was able to work through some of the stumbling blocks that had been stymying her advancement. There was the Abyssal Exhalation Art, which she had plundered from Yan Renshu. She couldn’t help but feel that the art didn’t suit her, but she couldn’t be picky yet. She achieved the fourth breath of Abyssal Exhalation, which strengthened and reinforced the worm constructs summoned by the art. The technique to call them was qi-expensive and the summoned worms would never defeat a peer on their own, but they could harry, distract, and entangle. The rest of her time with the tutor was spent learning how to avoid disrupting them when she empowered them with her other arts, such as Thousand Ring Fortress and Argent Current.

Ling Qi was also studying with Zeqing to Master the penultimate melody of the Forgotten Vale. She learned the Traveler’s End technique, which empowered the qi constructs of the other Forgotten Vale Melody techniques even further, making the effects more durable and long lasting. While active, the mist would not fade, even if Ling Qi ceased to play herself, and it would protect the mist by forcing absorbing any attempts to disrupt and dispel it. Truly mastering the art would require higher cultivation, but for now, she had another potent tool at her disposal.

There was one art which she could fully complete though. Ling Qi had won the Argent Mirror Art from the same trial that had gotten her Zhengui, the trial which Meizhen and she had undertaken together. It was not a flashy art; as a perception and spiritual defense art, its effects were mostly passive. It allowed her to read qi auras and peer through illusions. Mastering the fifth and final true reflection stage was much the same. By pulsing her qi in just the right way, she could disrupt spiritual or illusory arts that had taken hold of her.

as she cultivated the art, she began to comprehend it more. All arts were lessons. They taught their user how to manipulate their qi in the right way to alter the way the world worked, if only for a moment.

As she sat beside the vent which she and her friends had won through investigation and battle so early in the year and cultivated the art’s final secrets, Ling Qi found herself pondering the lessons held within the art. Argent Mirror was an art about sincerity. By knowing herself, her own truth, she could in turn see through external deceptions.

But it was hard to not lie to herself, to not rationalize or deceive herself in order to reach the conclusion that she had already decided that she wanted in the layers of the mind beneath conscious thought. In her thoughts, she found herself visualizing a mirror, a reflection. Was having that mirror always in her thoughts something she could live with?

Ling Qi thought of her mother and the lies she had told herself to make their separation less painful. She thought of Xiulan, who had been so hurt by the quiet lie that had existed between her and Han Jian. She thought of Meizhen and the strained awkwardness that had existed between them for so many months.

She thought that she could live facing the truth. Ling Qi would only ever be herself.

***

With the week winding down, Ling Qi didn’t allow herself to forget her plans to check on Xiulan and Meizhen. She was glad that she hadn’t when she reached Xiulan’s training field early on the last day of the week.

Her friend looked positively haggard, her normally immaculate appearance disheveled and smudged by ash. Xiulan’s aura had grown significantly more potent to Ling Qi’s senses despite having not broken through in her physique. The other girl appeared to have spent this final week building her qi reserves in preparation for the tournament. She had also reduced the training field to a barren, charred plain with whole stretches of the soil glimmering like glass.

“Xiulan, when was the last time you slept?” Ling Qi asked as she approached the other girl, picking her way through the field. “Or bathed for that matter?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

Her friend shot her a dirty look as the blazing flames leaking from the corners of her eyes and the tips of her fingers faded. “Just last evening,” she sniffed. “You shall excuse me for not wishing to waste scents and cosmetics in the midst of a stretch of intense training.”

As if that itself wasn’t a great change from the girl she had met at the beginning of the year, Ling Qi thought. “And sleeping? Xiulan, you are beginning to resemble a racoon dog.”

Xiulan raised her uninjured hand, touching her cheek just below where the dark circle under her eye ended. “... Perhaps three months ago,” she muttered. “What did you want, Ling Qi? I cannot imagine that you took time from your own training merely to comment on my appearance,” she demanded.

“I didn’t,” Ling Qi admitted. “I took some time out because I wanted to speak to you about taking a break.”

“I hardly have the time. The tournament will start in a matter of days,” Xiulan snapped. “Ling Qi, we cannot all…”

<Interrupt. You can’t let her get going,> Sixiang murmured.

“You are more intelligent than this, Xiulan,” Ling Qi said flatly. “I do not know what it is like to have lightning on the brain,” she began, using the Argent Mirror to eyeher friend’s nigh blinding aura and its crackling radiant core, “but I know what the tempting whispers of the dark are like. Gu Xiulan, this is not you.”

Xiulan scowled and opened her mouth to speak before stopping herself, her eyes narrowing. Her aura shuddered, flickering wildly, before the blazing furnace of her spirit dimmed, grounded and banked. “Spirits,” Xiulan said. “I am a bit of a mess, aren’t I?” She looked down at her charred and soot-stained gown. “Ancestors above, Mother is coming for the tournament! If I appear like this…”

“It will be fine,” Ling Qi said, patting her friend on her good shoulder. “It’s nothing a night out and a good sleep won’t fix. I just wanted to make sure you got that before you ran out of time.”

“Even now, I want to refuse and resume training,” Xiulan grimaced. “Perhaps Sister Yanmei was correct about including a calmer element in my repertoire.”

“That might not be the worst idea,” Ling Qi said agreeably. “Will you be alright now though?”

“I think I will,” Xiulan replied, looking down at her good hand and flexing her fingers as sparks danced between the digits. “I should thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Ling Qi dismissed. “Just do the same for me, if you would.”

“Of course,” Xiulan said. “I suppose you had something in mind?”

“I had considered a trip to that shop with the shaved ice desserts to cool your head,” Ling Qi teased, relaxing now that her friend seemed to have regained her senses. “But perhaps a visit to the bath house first?”

“That seems acceptable,” Xiulan agreed, stepping past her, the glassed soil crunching under her shoes. “I shall have to see if I can do anything with that tangle on your head. I am not the only one who has let themselves go.”

“I let my hair hang free as a choice,” They were easily falling back into their old rhythm.

“Foolish girl, you will be standing before half or more of the notables in the Emerald Seas next week. You cannot seriously mean to go out without even styling your hair.” Xiulan rolled her eyes as they exited the ruined training ground.

If her friend’s smirk was a bit brittle and her playful tone a bit forced, Ling Qi chose not to notice it.

***

Ling Qi was in good cheer as she made her way up the street of the residential district, having parted ways with Xiulan. Their day together had been nostalgic. This past year seemed longer than several of the previous put together. She still worried for her friend, but she wouldn’t infantilize the other girl by following her home to ensure that she went to rest.

Ling Qi found herself strolling along the street slowly, observing the little homes in their neatly laid out rows. She would miss this place. Despite the troubles she had faced in the Outer Sect this year, this had been her first real home since she had been very young. Although she had decided to leave it behind, she didn’t think she would ever quite shake that connection to the Argent Peak Sect.

This affection was probably intentional.

<No reason to think of it in such poor terms,> Sixiang whispered. <Do the intentions of this place’s builders change your memories?>

She supposed they didn’t. As she arrived at her home, she was surprised to feel Meizhen’s presence inside, as well as Cui’s. The other girl had been busy as well, so they had only seen each other at the Black Pool this week. Stepping inside, Ling Qi made her way to the dining room where she found her friend seated at the table. Meizhen was watching the stars through the window, Cui looped loosely around her shoulders..

“Taking it easy this last night as well?” Ling Qi asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I intend to be well rested on the morrow, yes,” Bai Meizhen replied softly, idly stroking Cui’s head. Her faintly glowing eyes flicked Ling Qi’s way. “And regardless of what happens, this is the last day we will be living together.”

“It is,” Ling Qi agreed quietly, moving to take a seat beside her friend. Cui’s tongue flicked disdainfully at her. “How is Zhengui? He was cultivating in the garden when I left earlier.”

“Asleep, the child,” Cui hissed.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” Ling Qi replied. “I hope he did not try your patience too much.”

“Cui is always pleased to receive praise and admiration. Do not let her fool you,” Meizhen said dryly. Cui turned up her snout in response, not dignifying her cousin’s comment with a response.

As the resulting silence began to stretch, Ling Qi said, “I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me since the first day at the Sect. I know I must have been frustrating to deal with.”

“You were,” Meizhen agreed, the corners of her lips quirking upward in a smile.

“You aren’t supposed to agree so readily,” Ling Qi complained, her own smile putting the lie to her words. “And… I won’t apologize again, but… I have never meant you harm.”

She could sense Cui’s irritation, but Meizhen simply gave the tiniest of nods, her expression serene. “I know,” she acknowledged. “And although I am no Zheng ruffian to share blood oaths, I do wish you to understand that to me, you are my closest friend.”

“You as well,” Ling Qi echoed, leaning back in her seat. “We’ll have to seal it over a drink sometime - unless that’s too coarse as well,” she added teasingly.

“I suppose I could look into a vintage from home,” Meizhen said, a touch of amusement in her voice. “It is always amusing to see outsiders attempt to keep them down.”

“I’ll show you,” Ling Qi said with mock confidence before growing more serious. “I’m glad I met you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” her best friend replied, looking back to the square of sky visible outside the window. “Good fortune to you in this coming trial, Qi.”

“Good fortune to you as well, Meizhen,” Ling Qi murmured, resting her hands behind her head. This was a fine way to spend the last night before the tournament.

Bonus: Argent Sect Promotional

Introduction

With a history that stretches back to the establishment of the third dynasty as a center of learning and the honor of being the first Sect to be granted Imperial Charter, there are few indeed which can claim similar prestige as the Argent Peak Sect. Lying at the center of the mountains of the Wall, the Argent Peak Sect holds a key position in the bulwark which defends the lands and homes of the Emerald Seas province from the rapacious barbarian tribes lurking in their mountain lairs.

The Argent Peak Sect offers a challenging but controlled environment to young cultivators in which they may explore their first steps on the path of cultivation. These historic lands hold many sites of power, potent spirits, and other trials on which your children may sharpen themselves for the more difficult path ahead. In addition, the Sect offers robust postgraduate support in the case that the Sect is not your chosen career.

Experience in the Argent Peak Sect military is renowned and greatly sought after by clans the Emerald Seas over, and a strong showing of service will earn recommendations to high starting positions in retinues, guard companies, and other security-related jobs or organizations. In addition, many regional ministers and governors highly regard the recommendations of the Argent Peak Sect when selecting for new Ministry positions.

Sect History

The Argent Peak Sect began as an institution under the fallen Li clan, an educational project for the development of arts and the training of officers. Founded during the rule of Emperor Ren, it proved to be a successful enterprise, turning out many talented officers and officials in its three thousand years of history. Things changed when the barbarians massed under the beast Ogodei, as it did for all of us.

Like many institutions in the south, the Argent Peak Sect was overrun in the invasion, but the hero and current Sect Head Yuan He proved his worth in those days, coordinating the remnants of those defeated by Ogodei’s foul tricks and monstrous tactics. Uniting the scattered strength of the Empire with the assistance of the exalted Prince An, the barbarian leader was defeated and the people of the Emerald Seas breathed safe again.

Granted Imperial commendation at the recommendation of Prince An, the Honorable Yuan He became the Sect head and supervised the expansion of the Argent Peak Sect into the institution and bulwark that it is today. The prestige of its alumni has only grown! Notable personages include…

Duchess Cai Shenhua: Her Radiant Grace once attended these storied mountains as a disciple, spending her early years enjoying our educational opportunities before returning home in the wake of the Thousand Wing incursion.

Prime Minister Diao Linqin: The glorious matriarch of the Diao clan arose here as well, first as disciple and then as elder before returning to take position in the renowned Diao clan.

... The text goes on, listing high officials, generals, and various prominent heads of viscount clans in the south.

Enrollment

Enrollment in the Argent Peak Sect is a strict matter. While the proving ground of the Outer Sect is open to all applicants able to pay the fee or for whom the fee is covered through Imperial and provincial programs, entrance into the Sect proper is not so easily obtained. To maintain the high quality of our disciple body and departments, only a limited number of Outer Sect applicants will be elevated each year. Disciples have the option of participating in a test of martial skill and valor in the New Year’s Tournament or alternatively, in a test of production ability through the means of a rigorous exam and project presentation. Meritorious service to the Sect may also allow individual elevation.

However, even the Outer Sect offers many opportunities for those without a strong foundation to connect with the future lords and ladies of the Emerald Seas and even provinces abroad. In addition, the Outer Sect grounds contain curated trial and tribulation opportunities for cultivators of every stripe with only minimal risk of lethality.

Careers

The Argent Peak Sect offers not only opportunities in the wider Empire but also many internal career paths as well.

The Talisman Department: Renowned in the Emerald Seas, the Argent Peak Sect’s talisman department is headed by the Honorable Sima Jiao, a retired Minister of Integrity. The department is at the forefront of developments in ranged war solutions in the Emerald Seas, and new formation researchers and talented craftsmen are required to keep the engine of innovation moving forward. The Sect offers competitive contracts to aspiring Formation Masters.

The Medicine Department: It is a grim truth of the world that in the course of defending our beautiful province, injuries and maimings both abound. Thankfully, our skilled and talented medical staff are on hand to provide for our brave soldiers. The Argent Peak Sect’s medical department offers a full route of support through all levels of the Imperial Physician exams, in addition to plentiful experience in the field.

The Argent Peak Military: These brave souls cannot be forgotten. Though service offers many opportunities elsewhere, the Argent Peak Sect’s fighting forces are second only to the White Plume regiment of Duchess Cai herself in the Emerald Seas. Led by Commander Guan Zhou, son of the heroic Guan Zhong, they stand as an unbreakable bulwark, defending our lands from foreign threats! Join today to attain honor and glory in the name of the Empire!

Spiritual Affairs Department: It is not an easy task, maintaining the curated experience which enables the safe but rewarding paths to success that our Sect offers. For those with the patience, skill, and flexibility to join this department, there are many rewards indeed, including privileged access to spirits and sites in newly claimed land and preferential assessment of resource assignment.

... The document goes on to describe increasingly minor groups and internal institutions.

Apply to Argent Peak Sect today and gain the keys to a bright future!

Note: Please contact through official channels at the Ministry of Communications. Enrollment forms and fees must be finalized and paid by the first of the new year and no later. Fees will not be refunded upon withdrawal of an enrolled disciple. Extra provincial disciples must apply through the Ministry of Travel or receive direct Imperial or ducal allowance. The Argent Peak Sect makes no additional blood or loyalty claims on enrolled disciples, and clans maintain all access and fealty rights to records of activity by their members.

Chapter 185-Preliminaries 1

“Where in the world did all of this come from?” Ling Qi asked in amazement as she strode along behind Cai Renxiang and beside Gan Guangli.

The empty fields to the north of the tournament grounds had transformed since she had last seen them. During her brief stint as a cleaner, she hadn’t given the fields much thought besides thinking it odd that so much cleared land wasn’t being put to use. Now, they were crowded with structures and people. Brightly colored pavilions and waving pennants bore symbols and characters declaring allegiance to dozens of clans, standing side by side with palatial structures which seemed to have sprung up overnight.

“The tournament and the surrounding events will consume an entire week. It is only natural that the nobility coming to observe display their wealth and status in their lodgings,” Cai Renxiang replied without turning around.

“I wasn’t referring to that,” Ling Qi frowned, peering up at a towering structure, more castle than palace, bearing the colors of the Xuan. “Is it really so easy to build such things so quickly? From what you’ve given me to study, isn’t establishing settlements supposed to be difficult?”

“You are correct, Miss Ling,” Gan Guangli said. His booming voice was nearly swallowed up by the noise of the visitors’ field and the hundreds of servants hustling on the orders of their masters. “Beautiful and wondrous as such things might be, they are not meant to last and so are unsuitable for permanent settlement.”

Ling Qi nodded as they made their way through the crowd, Cai Renxiang’s presence keeping the path clear for them. Reading between the lines, “instant” buildings were a luxury for showing off, rather than something practical. Given that the vast majority of the clans present were content with elaborate cloth pavilions, the buildings must be extremely expensive.

<Nothing like a little dominance display to keep a gathering colorful,> Sixiang mused. She could feel the spirit observing everything with interest through her eyes.

<I don’t like this, Big Sister,> Zhengui said. She felt as if he were squirming in discomfort in her dantian. <There are too many big spirits here.>

Her little brother had the right of it. The clashing presence of the many, many powerful auras present overlapped and pressed on her from every direction. Human, beast, and spirit - the least of them were her match, and the rest far overhead. Only harried servants and common guards stood below her here.

<They aren’t enemies, Zhengui,> she thought soothingly. She had a feeling that he could feel her own nerves about the upcoming meeting.

The three of them weren’t wandering without purpose. Cai Renxiang was going to present herself to her Mother, here, before the start of the tournament. As the heiress’ retainers, she and Gan Guangli would naturally be present as well.

How could she not be nervous in the face of that?

Busy with her thoughts, it didn’t take long for the three of them to reach the edge of the field where a large space had been left studiously empty, its borders marked by white plumed guards standing ramrod straight at the corners.

Ling Qi let out a soft breath as they came to a stop. “Ah… how will the Duchess be arriving anyway?” she asked quietly to Gan Guangli as Cai Renxiang spoke to one of the guards. Ling Qi observed as the man began to wave some nearby servants to begin unrolling a carpet for them so that when the time came, they would not be kneeling in the dirt and grass.

“Her Grace will arrive in her carriage, I believe,” Gan Guangli said, his wide arms crossed over his shining breastplate. “It is primarily used for her bi-decennial tours of the province’s major holdings and settlements, but it is also a symbol of power and prestige. I cannot imagine that our honored Duchess would arrive here in anything less.”

“Guangli is correct. The Duchess will be here shortly,” Cai Renxiang said as she returned to them, gesturing for them to take their places on the newly spread carpet. “Keep your eyes on the sky, and enter supplication when the shadow reaches the landing area,” she instructed stiffly. Ling Qi was certain that in this instance, the slight nerves that the heiress was showing were no mere affectation.

Ling Qi nervously fingered the flower ornament woven into her hair as she took her place at Cai Renxiang’s left. Xiulan had helped her put up her glittering hair into an actual style, pins and braids giving order to the usual chaos of her tresses, but it was hard not to feel underprepared.

They waited in silence for some time before Ling Qi felt it. A prickling sensation on the back of her neck. A mounting pressure upon her thoughts. Sixiang sunk away into the depths of her mind, curling up and making themselves small like a frightened child, and a low sensation of alarm arose from Zhengui.

It began as a bright dot in the north, a star shining in the day, but rapidly resolved itself into something more clear. Ling Qi had seen the sealed carriages of the nobility in Tonghou, leaving through the gates and given a wide berth by everyone sane. But even leaving aside its flight, this made those carriages seem like the lowest peasants’ rickety wagons.

The Duchess’ carriage was the size of a small house, its frame and shutters carved from gleaming white wood. Its tiled roof was a brilliant green jade from which strings of living flowers hung. Its two wide wheels were shod with some actinic blue metal that shone with an internal light and rolled forward on crackling storm clouds that billowed out from their spokes. The creatures galloping through the sky, drawing the carriage toward them were no mere spirit horses. Their gleaming silver scales and long, curved horns crackling with heavenly power showed them to be qilin, dragon horses, rare and reclusive beasts that inhabited the more lonely stretches of the Wall.

It took only moments for the carriage to go from barely visible to passing overhead. The instant it did, she followed Cai Renxiang’s lead and dropped smoothly to her knees in a supplicant’s pose. All around her, the Duchess’ guards took the knee as well, and servants scurried away.

Ling Qi kept her head lowered as the thunder of sparking hooves pounding against the air approached, growing louder by the moment. The shadow on the ground circled, growing larger with each pass, until finally, the qilins’ hooves and the spinning wheels of the carriage struck the earth, charring the grass as storm clouds began to dissipate from beneath it.

As the carriage rolled to a stop, the great scaled beasts, fifth or perhaps even sixth grade, which had been drawing it tossed their heads impatiently, lightning dancing along the stiff “beards” which grew from their jaws. Then, the door of the carriage swung open, and all thought of the spirit beasts left her mind. Power, thick and cloying, beat down on her back like the weight of a mountain. If she were not already kneeling, Ling Qi doubted that she would have been able to stay standing. It was a fight to keep her breathing even as she saw a set of shimmering stairs form, composed wholly of light, bridging the gap between the floor of the carriage and the earth below. It was nearly invisible compared to the radiance that had erupted from within the carriage at the opening of the door.

A dusky skinned woman in a gown the color of pale rose petals stepped out first, but Ling Qi could not have described her further if asked at swordpoint. The presence which emanated from the carriage was that overwhelming. The first woman did turn though, offering a hand to aid the woman who emerged. It struck Ling Qi as absurd, the idea that the Duchess could need such a thing.

The Duchess Cai was tall, taller than Gan Guangli in his base state, taller than Elder Zhou. She did not have the doll-like proportions of a traditional beauty, but instead a generous and statuesque figure well displayed by the scandalous garment she wore. The pure white fabric clung to her like a second skin, traced by lines of the palest blue, and the butterflies embroidered across the lower half moved, fluttering across rippling silk and even the knee-high slit in the right side of the gown as she descended the steps.

Although she could not see the Duchess’ face at this angle, the tightness of her gown did make one other detail clear. Her stomach held a slight but distinct curve, which, given that Ling Qi had never seen a cultivator put on even a single kilogram of unintentional weight, could mean only one thing.

“Renxiang, you may raise your head.” The Duchess’ voice was smoky and almost casual in tone, but the light and power beating down on her back precluded any notion of relaxation. “It has been some time since last we spoke, my daughter.”

“It honors me immensely that you would choose to come here for this humble daughter,” Cai Renxiang said submissively. Ling Qi saw the heiress rise smoothly from full supplication to kneeling attention, her long hair swaying with the motion. “Please allow me to offer you welcome to the Argent Peak Sect. I hope its hospitality will meet your needs.”

“Minister Linqin?” the Duchess spoke with the touch of a question.

The woman now standing a step behind the Duchess spoke in an easy, professional tone, untroubled by the terrible power churning in the air. “It will be sufficient for your needs, my lady.”

“Very good,” Cai Shenhua acknowledged. “Renxiang, ask the question that burns on your tongue.”

“While I would not dream of demanding information from you, Honored Mother... why have I not previously been informed of your condition?” Ling Qi’s liege asked promptly. Even Ling Qi could see the tension in the girl’s shoulders; she was as off-balance as Ling Qi had ever seen her.

“Do not feel slighted, my daughter,” the Duchess replied easily, but the pulse of the light radiating from her turned even that casual statement into a command. “I have deemed the situation stable, and thus, I will be making the knowledge public as of this day. Rejoice, Renxiang. You shall soon have a younger sister.”

“This is truly a joyous occasion,” Cai Renxiang replied, almost mechanically. “I will look forward to greeting her.”

“I expect so,” Cai Shenhua said, and Ling Qi saw her take a languid step forward, carrying her closer to the three of them. “Now, I have reviewed reports of your progress and found them satisfactory, but for some things, a letter simply does not do. Cai Renxiang, introduce these two that you have deemed worthy of working in our name.”

“I present to you Gan Guangli and Ling Qi, who I believe to be two of our province’s most promising, formerly unattached young talents,” Cai Renxiang answered, visibly regaining control of herself and her voice. “Gan Guangli has shown great talent as an officer and forged the undisciplined Outer disciples into passable military order under great limitations in both time and resources. He has been an able second in matters of combat when my presence was required elsewhere. He has achieved the third realm in only three years of cultivation.”

“This is that soldier boy you picked up during your provincial tour... He has grown, hasn’t he?” the Duchess asked rhetorically, sounding amused.

Cai Renxiang paused, giving her Mother time to speak further if she wished before continuing, “Ling Qi’s talents have few competitors. Through her personal efforts, an entire enemy power block was broken in a single night, and her aid in gathering intelligence against the Sun Princess was invaluable.” Cai Renxiang was laying it on a bit thick, but Ling Qi wasn’t going to complain. “She has achieved her current cultivation in only a single year, having arrived at the Sect as a mortal.”

“Hoh? How nostalgic.” Ling Qi felt her skin crawl as the Duchess’ attention fell on her like a lead weight. “Both of you, raise your heads. I would see the faces of my daughter’s first retainers.”

Ling Qi carefully did so, copying Cai Renxiang’s posture, although she angled her head a bit lower. Given her status, it would be rude to look the Duchess in the eye without a direct command, which “raise your head” was not. Nobles loved to make things confusing.

Cai Shenhua’s gown was even more scandalous than she had first realized. It bared her shoulders entirely, only gauzy lace prevented more than a hint of cleavage from being visible. Her hair was black as midnight, much like her daughter’s, but cut to her shoulders. Glittering, gem-like threads were woven between the strands, refracting the woman’s radiance into a multitude of colors. What little she could see of the Duchess’ features were as sharp and severe as the light radiating down from them.

Ling Qi watched out of the corner of her eyes as the woman casually paced over to stand in front of the kneeling Gan Guangli, every step a promise of order and absolute authority. She towered over him with her arms crossed loosely over her rounded stomach. “Young man, why do you follow my daughter?”

“Lady Cai Renxiang is the woman who will bring about the world I aspire to.” Gan Guangli’s booming voice was somber and serious, all bombastic affectation gone. “For that goal, I will fight for her until my body and spirit lie broken.” Well, maybe not all of it.

The Duchess was silent, and Gan Guangli remained silent as well, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere behind the power standing before him. Eventually, the Duchess gave a shallow nod of acknowledgement. “I see. Do try not to break too quickly then,” she said almost flippantly.

Then she was standing before Ling Qi, and Ling Qi’s breath hitched at the returned force of the Duchess’ attention, which only grew worse when the woman spoke. “Look at me,” she commanded, and Ling Qi could do naught but obey, raising her eyes to meet those of Cai Renxiang’s Mother.

Over the last few minutes, listening to the powerful woman’s casual speech and watching her movements, Ling Qi had begun to believe that perhaps Cai Renxiang’s fears were overblown, that rumor had painted a skewed picture of this woman. Those thoughts vanished like the morning mist when she met Cai Shenhua’s eyes.

There was no pupil or iris there, only pits of burning colorless light in the shape of human eyes, portals through which something vast and terrible peered from behind a shell of human skin. She could faintly feel the sensation of watering eyes, but her vision remained unblurred, tears seared away the moment they dared form. It was as the sun to a mortal, unfathomable and unrelenting, yet there could be no succour, no averting her gaze. There was only the Light, and she knew that she would stare forever, until it scoured her mind and bleached her soul.

“This one, on the other hand… I approve, Renxiang. It seems you have inherited my aesthetic tastes.” Some distant part of Ling Qi’s mind that wasn’t screaming danger at her was confused until the Duchess’ gaze flicked away, drawing hers with it to the other woman present.

Minister Diao Linqin, with her dark skin and neatly combed but clearly wavy dark brown hair, looked back, unamused. “My lady, perhaps now is not the time for jests,” she reminded gently, somehow unphased by the Duchess’ attention.

The woman-monster hummed and gestured for her to lower her head, allowing Ling Qi to quickly fix her eyes back on the carpet. Ling Qi caught Cai Renxiang shooting her a look of genuine apology on the way back to staring at the carpet.

As she gathered her wits, the Duchess spoke once again. “If not among family, then when?" the elder Cai rebutted, a sarcastic twist on her lips. Ling Qi had no idea if it was genuine or if the woman before her was even capable of humor. It made her recall Sixiang's comments regarding the younger Cai. Was this what Cai Renxiang was crafted in the image of? "Allow me to put the same question to you, young lady. Why do you follow my daughter?”

Under that burning gaze, Ling Qi found the pressure to speak her mind increasing by the moment yet. Every bit of coaching she had received flew out of her head, scattered like dust in a windstorm. Ling Qi panicked as she internally flailed for an answer.

Chapter 186-Preliminaries 2

<Focus.> Sixiang’s mental voice sounded tiny in her thoughts, an echo of an echo, but it was enough. Ling Qi knew she was better than this. Hadn’t she mastered the Argent Mirror? Wasn’t she supposed to know herself?

That was the trouble though. The Mirror couldn’t provide answers on its own; it was only a tool reflecting what was there. Ling Qi had many reasons for joining Cai Renxiang but no easy way to distill her motivations down to a single statement. Taking a breath, Ling Qi put her thoughts in order and began to speak.

“Your daughter offers me strength and a solid foundation from which to grow for both myself and my family,” she said, careful to speak evenly. “And I think I would like to live in and up to the sort of order she wishes to create.”

Ling Qi kept her eyes on the ground, trying not to give any indication of her nervousness as the beat of silence that followed her words stretched on. Had that answer been good enough?

Ling Qi felt her shoulders stiffen as the Cai matriarch made a thoughtful sound. “I do not hate such pragmatic attitudes,” she mused. “See that you do not allow yourself to waver in your devotion to our order.” There was something in the older woman’s tone, some thread of amusement directed at her, that raised the hairs on the back of her neck in alarm.

She felt that Duchess’ radiant gaze turning away from her and nearly sagged in relief. “Minister, see to our lodgings. If I recall, Sect Head Yuan requested that he be allowed a meeting when I arrived.”

“You are correct, my lady. I will ensure that there are no troubles here.”

“Very good,” the Duchess allowed languidly, the silk of her dress swishing faintly as she turned back to Renxiang. “I am satisfied with your performance, Renxiang. I expect that to continue.”

“Of course, Mother. I will not bring shame to our clan,” the younger Cai promised, a hint of tightness in her voice.

There was no further response as the Duchess vanished in a literal flash, searing a line of radiance into Ling Qi’s vision as the beam of light that she had become receded into the distance toward the mountains, taking the terrible oppressiveness of her aura along with her. Ling Qi let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and began to raise her head.

As she did, Minister Diao Linqin, who had turned to watch the Duchess go, turned back to them. Absent the overwhelming presence of Cai Shenhua, Ling Qi was able to actually focus on the other woman. Ling Qi noted for the first time the wreath of pink roses woven into the coiled braids holding the woman’s hair and her slim dancer’s figure. Diao Linqin was a riveting beauty in her own right, despite her atypical features. Ling Qi wasn’t quite sure how to categorize the feeling that gave her, given the Duchess’ earlier words.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the older woman’s demure expression took on a colder edge as she surveyed the three of them. It reminded Ling Qi that this woman was a power in her own right - seventh realm, and the head of a count clan. Ling Qi felt her breath catch as their eyes met, and for the briefest instant, she felt small, a tiny flower barely bloomed, rooted in the midst of the twisting, thorny vines of a garden of transcendently beautiful roses which extended far beyond her senses. The roses were prepared to strangle the life from her and from any other upstart which dared encroach upon its bed.

The instant passed, and she was once more looking at a woman, beautiful and elegant, but no more than that. The Minister’s green eyes rested on Cai Renxiang, who met her cool look with one of her own.

“You are all dismissed,” the Minister said after a moment. “I trust that you know what is expected of you, Cai Renxiang?”

“Of course, Minister Diao,” Cai Renxiang replied calmly, her poise recovered. “Please continue to take good care of my Lady Mother.”

A flicker of a smile touched the older woman’s lips as she turned back to the carriage with a sound of swishing silks. “Continue to make yourself valuable, Cai Renxiang,” she said in clear dismissal.

Ling Qi stood alongside her liege, glancing between the two of them before Cai Renxiang led her and Gan Guangli away. She held her tongue until they were well away and cloaked by the noise of passersby to boot.

“... May I ask what that was about?” Ling Qi asked, pitching her voice low.

“The good Minister is not fond of our Lady,” Gan Guangli answered, his voice a low rumble. Even his boisterous spirit was subdued in the wake of that encounter.

“It is nothing to be concerned over,” Cai Renxiang said. “Diao Lingqin’s loyalty to my Mother is absolute. If she is acting against me…”

Then they had bigger problems, Linq Qi finished, but she wasn’t sure it was so simple. She wondered why a grown woman of such power would openly dislike someone Cai Renxiang’s age. Ling Qi re-focused on the tension she could see in the heiress’ shoulders.

“I am sure the Duchess is simply further solidifying the foundation of the Cai now that you have proven that you can be trusted to do well on your own,” she offered as they passed between a pair of ostentatious tents.

“Indeed,” Gan Guangli agreed. “With a second daughter of your caliber, the position of the Cai is only more secure.”

She caught a glimpse of the other girl’s face as she glanced back at the two of them. There was a vulnerability there that seemed alien. “... Of course. Mother prizes efficiency above most else,” she said before turning her eyes forward once more. “It is only sensible that she begin developing other resources as well.”

<Don’t push it any further,> Sixiang murmured, giving the impression of peeking out of a hiding place. <Not here and now.>

It was nice to hear that her spirits hadn’t fainted, Ling Qi thought wryly. She had been worried that she was alone for a moment there.

<Zhengui is sorry, Big Sister,> her little brother said. <The light was...> His thought trailed off into a shudder of unease.

She sent him a feeling of reassurance; she hadn’t meant to imply that she was upset with him. Ling Qi turned her attention back to her human companions as they reached the central “square” of the campgrounds.

“Our time until the opening ceremonies is short,” Cai Renxiang said as she faced the two of them, her usual expression firmly back in place. “As we discussed, we will be splitting the duty of providing greetings and regards to those visitors relevant to the interests of the Cai.”

“I will ensure that the Wang and Jia clans, as well as the other Sect contingents, receive their proper welcome,” Gan Guangli agreed, thumping his gauntleted fist against his breastplate.

They had spoken about this on the way over to the campgrounds. There were a number of groups only here because Cai Renxiang was or who were simply important enough for the Cai to give them face. Ling Qi was still trying to keep it all straight.

“And I will see to the Bai and Xuan,” Cai Renxiang agreed, for it would be insulting for anyone less than the heiress to show up at the doorstep of the ducal clans. It still rankled a bit that she couldn’t be the one to greet Meizhen’s family.

“And I have the Bao and the Luo,” Ling Qi said. Ling Qi would greet the Bao because she was at least acquainted with the third daughter of the house, and had the responsibility for the other because she expected her moon ties to be the most helpful there.

“And the Golden Fields?” Cai Renxiang asked, raising an eyebrow. “I am aware that the matter is somewhat complex, but you do have the strongest connections there as well.”

Ling Qi glanced away, pursing her lips. Cai had spoken to her about being the one to go and offer their regards to the far flung province’s contingent, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to insert herself further into the politics of that place. She knew Cai Renxiang would shoulder that burden if she didn’t, but she was giving Ling Qi the opportunity to further those ties if she wanted. Given the cursory nature of the meetings with the two count clans, Ling Qi would have time for a third meeting.

“I can handle the Golden Fields,” Ling Qi replied after a moment’s thought. Even in her own head, her concerns regarding the matter seemed petty and ill founded. If she couldn’t deal with a somewhat awkward meeting, she should probably give up now.

Her liege nodded once, and to Ling Qi’s eye, she seemed satisfied with her answer. Leaving Cai Renxiang with only two meetings would give her a moment to recenter herself before the tournament. That was another reason not to increase the other girl’s burden.

“I wish you both good fortune then and will see you at the opening ceremonies of the tournament,” Cai Renxiang said, meeting their gazes. “Remember what I have taught you of the province’s politics.”

Once the two of them gave their affirmative responses, the three of them split apart. They had gone over the locations and the best order of visitation before even coming to the campgrounds, so Ling Qi already knew where to go. Her first destination was the Bao, who was both the larger clan and the one better connected with the court in the capital. The man they had sent was their clan’s young master, the eldest son of the current head, whereas the Luo had sent an older cousin from a branch family.

Thei Bao’s space was placed on the west side, a short walk from the grand pavilion of white silk being erected for the Duchess. The Bao had elected for an expensive temporary structure, a small guest house that was nonetheless larger than the three story home she had provided her mother in town. It was surrounded by a low curtain wall and a built-in garden. Its roof was tiled with green jade, and the walls were carved from a dark, nearly black wood, polished to a gleaming shine.

A man and a woman dressed in light lacquered armor over finely padded gear in the Bao’s colors stood guard at the gates. Their stances, alert and at attention, straightened up further as she approached.

LIng Qi stopped at a respectful distance, just off the main path where she would not be impeding traffic, and gave a very small bow appropriate to greeting the subordinates of a cultivator who outranked her.

“Baroness Ling, presenting herself to offer greetings and well wishes to the representative of the Bao in the name of the Cai clan,” she said smoothly, remembering the line by rote.

The woman, who looked to be the older of the two, bowed in return. “This humble sentry will be honored to carry word of your presence to the Young Master, Baroness Ling.” The reply had the same air of practised ease as her own line. “I must humbly ask for your patience in the interim.”

Ling Qi reviewed her etiquette lessons in her head. The guard’s response was a bit more respectful than was strictly necessary given the difference in ranks involved here. Knowing that, she adjusted her response accordingly.

“Do not trouble yourself with undue haste,” she said. “Please give your Master my personal regards for his courtesy.” Talking like this all the time was going to be tiring, Ling Qi thought.

<The moon does not have any one face, and neither should you,> Sixiang whispered, amused at her internal grumbling.

That didn’t exactly square with the lessons of Argent Mirror, Ling Qi mused as the guard bowed again and went inside, leaving her under the watch of the other one. Then again, that was likely her inexperience speaking. Sect Head Yuan, the inventor of the Argent arts, surely had experience dealing with courtly matters; she doubted that his art would conflict with such an essential part of cultivator life.

She was not kept waiting long. The guard returned to escort her inside, letting her pass through the gates and into the garden. It was lovely, filled with all sorts of plants which she did not recognize, making Zhengui forget his woes regarding the earlier meeting with the Duchess in favor of drooling over the array of treats.

The decor of the Bao’s guest home was one of understated luxury, but she was almost brought up short as she left the entrance hall and caught sight of what could only be the man she had come here to meet. Bao Quan was a man of middling height with a heavyset build and cheerful features. He was also more extravagantly dressed than any male cultivator she had ever seen before, not counting the abominable robes that Elder Jiao favored. Threads of precious metals she only recognized from books were woven into his robes, and jade rings adorned his fingers. Even his luxurious, chest length beard was kept in place by clips carved whole from valuable gemstones, and the black scholar’s cap he wore had a diamond the size of a child’s fist embedded in the cloth, set right above and between his eyes.

This flashy guy was the older brother of Li Suyin’s dour and reclusive senior sister?

Despite her surprise, she remembered to keep her manners as the guard who had led her into the room where the Bao representative was seated bowed low to her master. “My lord, may I introduce Baroness Ling, as requested.”

Ling Qi bowed in turn, bringing her hands together respectfully as she did so. “Sir Bao Quan, you honor me with a direct meeting,” she recited. “This humble retainer of the Cai would like to convey her liege’s thanks and well wishes toward your personage and your clan.”

The older man was only silent for a beat before he rose from his seat, a jovial smile on his thick features. “I hear and accept them, young Baroness,” he replied cheerfully, flicking a hand in dismissal toward his guard. And why not? He was in the fourth realm of cultivation, his aura a glittering, gleaming thing that spoke of the untold wealth of the earth. “I suppose the Lady herself is entertaining the Bai and Xuan delegations?”

“She is, Sir Bao,” Ling Qi answered, straightening up after an appropriate interval. She couldn’t let her guard down just because he seemed friendly. “I sincerely hope that you do not take my presence as a slight.”

“Of course not,” the man scoffed. “I am aware enough of my own position. The Xuan are our greatest external customers, and opening up those reclusive Bai to further relations would be quite a coup. This turmoil between provinces has been terrible for business,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “But I am being a rude host. Be seated, be seated,” he continued, gesturing at the other seat in the room, a richly upholstered chair that probably cost more than her house.

Ling Qi waited a beat for her host to take his seat first before doing as he instructed. Sitting in it felt like sinking into a cloud. “You are too kind, Sir Bao.” The constant refrains of humility were a little irritating, but she could put up with something small like that. “My lady Cai would like to express her gratitude at your arrival here to witness her graduation.”

“I look forward to seeing the Young Miss’ triumph. The Bao could hardly offer the insult of ignoring such an occasion,” he said with a small chortle. “Besides, it does give me a chance to visit my adorable little sister.”

Ling Qi paused, picturing Bao Qingling’s unhealthy pallor, dark ringed eyes, and expression of bland disinterest. She wasn’t sure of any definition of the word “adorable” which that girl fit. Thankfully, she kept any of that dubiousness from reaching her expression. “Miss Bao is doing well,” she said instead. “I am sure she will be pleased to see you.”

The older man looked at her with some interest, folding his hands over his stomach. “Ah, yes, I do believe she mentioned you once in her letters. A friend of her little project, was it?”

“Just so,” Ling Qi replied, feeling a little put out at the mildly demeaning description of her friend. “I have visited her workshop once or twice. It is very impressive.”

“Such an industrious girl, my sister,” Bao Quan said, looking pleased. “So shy though. I shall have to pay her a visit.” He shook his head slightly. “So, Miss Ling, before we grow too distracted, was there any other business the young Lady Cai had to convey?”

“Only a few small matters,” Ling Qi demurred, producing a small bundle of letters from her sleeve with a flick of her wrist. A slight flexing of the air around her carried the letters into the older cultivator’s hands. “Lady Cai has asked me to convey to you these recommendations for production disciples which might be worth some small attention...”

Her talk with the Bao representative went on for a bit longer as they reviewed the small matters Cai had asked her to convey and engaged in polite small talk. For what it was worth, Bao Quan did seem like a genuinely cheerful and mostly pleasant man, so Ling Qi thought the meeting went well.

Chapter 187-Preliminaries 3

It was a good thing her first meeting went so well because it left her unstressed for the next.

The Luo representative was housed in more modest accommodations than the Bao. Rather than a house, they set up a number of tents surrounding a larger pavilion made of a thicker sort of cloth. If she remembered her lessons correctly, the Luo controlled a fair amount of pasture land; they and their subordinates bred a few particular types of livestock with special properties. It would make sense for them to use their own products.

The guards at the Luo’s entrance were dressed more like woodsmen than city guards. They had been less polite in their greetings, though still within the bounds of propriety. Ling Qi had been led to one of the side tents to wait on the arrival of their representative. The inside of the tent was comfortable enough, the bare ground covered by thick rugs and colorful cushions, and was lit by the soft light of a floating paper lantern suspended in midair.

<I hope you intend to be a bit more helpful for this one, Sixiang,> Ling Qi thought as she settled in to wait.

<You had the last one handled,> her spirit sent back. <I would have given you a nudge if you drifted off course. It looks like you can manage socializing if you focus though.>

Ling Qi restrained herself from snorting at that half compliment. She couldn’t gainsay the spirit though. It was still difficult not to slip back into more casual modes of speech by accident. She turned her attention instead to Zhengui and prodded him with a feeling of concern.

<Big Sister shouldn’t worry,> he replied in her thoughts, sounding distracted. <Zhengui will not distract Big Sister from important things.>

Now that they were away from the Bao’s garden, Zhengui had returned to being on edge about the sheer number of powerful people she was surrounded by. There was little she could do to reassure him on the matter, not when Ling Qi was bothered as well.

Ling Qi was distracted from her thoughts when the tent flap opened, revealing one of the lightly armored guards holding it open for a much older man. The Luo representative, Luo Jie, was a spindly sort to her eye. He had long limbs and a thin build, partially concealed by the ankle-length cloak of soft leather worn over his shoulders, concealing the rest of his attire. Luo Jie had narrow, severe features, marked by a surprising amount of wrinkles for a cultivator, mostly around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. His head was clean shaven and bare, but a long thin gray mustache framed his frowning lips.

Ling Qi rose to her feet and offered a bow to the elderly cultivator, trying to ignore the man’s unsettling aura. Luo Jie’s aura felt like being alone and unarmed in the woods at night while predatory eyes gleamed from within every shadow. His realm of power was unreadable.

“Eight Maiden's blessing on you, Sir Luo,” she said calmly, Sixiang’s murmurs feeding her the right words. “I offer my gratitude for this meeting, and the chance to offer my Lady’s regards and well wishes.”

The older man’s head tilted slightly, his already half-lidded eyes narrowing further as he examined her. “May the Dreamer’s attentions remain benign, child,” he grunted, offering only a perfunctory nod in response to her bow as the guard allowed the flap of the tent to close behind him. “You are Baroness Ling then?”

Sixiang felt a little huffy at his response, but Ling Qi forged on. “I am, Sir Luo. I hope that my presence is satisfactory.”

The old man waved a gnarled hand dismissively, picking his way across the thick carpet. “I accept your Lady’s intentions. The question is, do you know them?” he asked, fixing her with a look that told her that he was not yet impressed.

Ling Qi hesitated before straightening up and meeting his eyes. In a more normal situation, it would have been rude, but the families that followed the older ways had their own traditions. “Lady Cai believes that I can more easily relate to you and yours given my own affiliation with the moon.”

Luo Jie smiled thinly in response. “You have a maiden with you, true, hiding in your thoughts, and the scent of moonlight on your skin. Do you imagine that privileges you, Baroness Ling?”

Ling Qi listened to Sixiang’s whispers as she considered her answer. “Sir Luo, I am not of any of the old families, but I do regard the spirit we both revere as a patron. I cannot say I understand all of the differences between your ways and others. I have only just begun to learn the Imperial ways after all,” she began answering, emphasizing that at the moment, she didn’t have a side. “I am, of course, willing to receive instruction on these matters.”

The older man crossed his arms under his cloak. “Mmph, good enough,” he muttered before seating himself cross-legged atop one of the larger cushions. “Any voice not entirely bound by that rigid mindset is a boon. See that you retain your flexibility going forward.”

“You can see which moons smile upon me, Honored Elder,” she replied mildly at Sixiang’s prompting. “I will not lose sight of the value of an open mind,” she finished, seating herself across from him.

Once again, he gave her a thin smile. “Under blinding light, there is little room for shadows, sleep, and secrets. Be careful in your doings.”

“Of course, Sir Luo,” she said. “I thank you for your advice.”

“Regardless, I accept your Lady’s gratitude and regards. Were there other matters you had to speak of?”

“Only a few,” Ling Qi said. “First, I have a proposal from the Wang clan regarding new livestock populations captured in recent action against the Cloud tribes. Lady Cai believes this may serve to improve provincial unity, so she asks that you will give the matter some thought...”

The rest of her meeting went by quickly enough with the taciturn Luo representative agreeing to consider the matters Cai Renxiang had asked her to bring up. Soon enough, she was on her way, dismissed from the Luo compound and its slightly unsettling inhabitants.

She had her final, most difficult task left. How Ling Qi approached the Golden Fields contingent would likely serve to bias future interactions with them. The Golden Fields counted among their number people from the Han, Fan, and Gu, not to mention one of the grandsons of the current Duke Guo. Cai Renxiang had asked her to secure an invitation to meet with the Guo.

She had the most ties with the Gu clan; she was close friends with Xiulan, and she had parted with Gu Tai on good terms. In addition, the representative was Xiulan’s mother, which gave her another connection.

On the other hand, the Gu were the vassals of the Han, and bypassing the Han like that could be considered rude. But she wasn’t as close with Han Jian, so she wasn’t sure if they would be willing to introduce her to the Guo.

Ling Qi thought over the possibilities with a frown. In the end, she was probably going to make someone unhappy. Of course, she could just go straight to the Guo, but even as a representative of Cai, that was audacious given her own rank as a Baroness.

Since her goal was to secure a meeting with the Guo, it made simple sense to go to the family that was most likely to allow her to do so. It would allow her to pay respects to the mother of one of her best friends, and doing so would be a show of filial piety, making the choice to go to the Gu fairly uncontroversial.

She walked through the sweltering heat of the Gu’s “travel home.” It was smaller than the Bao’s near palatial residence had been, but it made up for it in exoticism. It was a single story building crafted whole from the bones and gleaming red scales of a potent spirit beast. Radiant qi emanated from every surface in its interior.

The Gu guardsman escorting her, dressed in a colorful panopoly with his face concealed behind a crimson headwrap and scarf, seemed unbothered by the heat despite being a realm below her in cultivation.

<They really do go all in on the theme, don’t they?> Sixiang mused, looking out through her eyes at a wall hanging depicting a phoenix rising from a barren field, streamers of multi-hued fire trailing its wings. Ling Qi had to agree. Even the rich carpet was patterned with rippling lines that called to mind heat hazes and flames. At least Zhengui was finally enjoying himself; the qi emanating from the building had him all but wriggling in happiness in his spiritual form.

“We are here, Lady Ling,” the young guardsman said as they arrived at the end of the hallway before a doorway blocked off by a curtain of diaphanous silk. “Lady Ai will receive you inside,” he continued, standing aside to give her room to pass.

Ling Qi nodded, taking only a moment to prepare herself. She knew very little about Ai Xiaoli, Gu Xiulan’s mother, aside from the fact that she was originally from the Celestial Peaks and had exacting standards about appearances.

Stepping forward, Ling Qi parted the curtains and stepped inside to find herself in a richly appointed sitting room, not too dissimilar from what she had seen in the Bao residence. She did not let her attention linger long on the decor because the woman, a fifth realm cultivator, seated comfortably on the other side of the small polished table that served as the room’s centerpiece demanded attention.

Her first thought was that Xiulan’s mother looked like a porcelain doll brought to life. Ai Xiaoli was a petite woman, even shorter than her own mother, and was elegant in appearance. She was pale, but not unnaturally so like Meizhen, and her raven black hair shimmered like silk in the light of the room. There was a faint chiming from the dangling ruby earrings and jade ornaments in her hair as the woman turned to look at her.

Ling Qi stood before a mirror-like oasis, its azure waters reflecting the clear desert sky. All around her, golden sand stretched into infinity. The lake was surrounded by a riot of green, and colorful fish darted through the clear waters. And yet, the surface was still, unmarred by a single ripple.

Then Ling Qi blinked and she was simply looking at soft brown eyes beneath long eyelashes. Hastily, Ling Qi bowed respectfully, struck by a nagging inadequacy now that she stood before the living image of what she had been taught a woman should be. The Duchess’ beauty had been harsh and inhuman - and unthreatening for that. It was irrational, she knew, but it really did seem unfair. This was a woman who had five daughters? She barely looked older than Xiulan’s elder sister!

Ling Qi squeezed her eyes shut. Why was she panicking over something so superficial?

“My apologies,” her host said in a soft voice like the chiming of bells. “That was terribly rude of me.”

Ling Qi cleared her throat but didn’t raise her head as she scrambled to get her thoughts in order. “You have my gratitude for allowing me this meeting, Lady Ai. May I ask what that was though?”

“A minor slip on my part,” Xiulan’s mother answered evenly. “My previous meeting was somewhat aggravating.” After a beat of silence, she continued, “You may raise your head, Miss Ling. Please have a seat, and I will send for tea. I am interested in speaking with the girl who has made such an impression on my daughter.”

Ling Qi wasn’t sure if she believed Ai Xiaoli’s answer. She had never seen a higher realm cultivator really slip up, but it wasn’t as if she had much experience with meeting such people. Sixiang was silent on the matter, and she could tell the spirit was studying her hostess carefully. “Of course, Lady Ai. Gu Xiulan is among my closest friends, and I was pleased to know that you would be here for her.” Straightening up, she took her seat across from the older woman.

“It is good to know that Xiulan has found another young lady to spend time with,” Ai Xiaoli replied neutrally, reaching out to grasp a tiny jade bell on the table and ring it once. The woman’s dainty hands were nearly lost in the silk and lace of her voluminous sleeves. “She has always had a streak of boyishness in her demeanor.”

Ling Qi wondered at that. “Gu Xiulan helped me greatly in learning what was expected of an Imperial lady. She took your lessons very well,” she praised. “I am certain she will be more herself when the stress of the tournament is over.”

The woman regarded her from under her thick eyelashes for a moment, and Ling Qi did her best not to squirm under the woman’s piercing gaze. “I am certain you are correct. Although it hurts to see my child in pain, it is… a trial she will overcome,” the older woman said, neither her voice nor her expression betraying a single thought. “And I am thankful for the support you have given her in the matter. Unlike some.”

Ling Qi held in a shudder. Something dark had touched Ai Xiaoli’s voice for just a fraction of an instant. “It might be presumptuous for me to say,” Ling Qi said carefully, “but it is nothing for which I require thanks.”

Xiulan’s mother considered her. “Is that so? It seems Xiulan is not as poor in her judgement of character as I had worried then.” Ling Qi wasn’t sure if she should be insulted by that statement. It had been said mildly and without reproach, but…

<It wasn’t aimed at you,> Sixiang whispered, sounding frustrated. <At least I don’t think it was. Or is that what she…>

Ling Qi tuned out the spirit’s muttering and met her hostess’ eyes, noting the faintest light of amusement there. “Gu Xiulan is hasty at times, but I think her judgement is sound,” she said with just a touch of stubbornness that slipped through her control.

“Indeed. Hastiness is simply in her blood. She is very much her father’s daughter,” Ai Xiaoli mused fondly. “I think that is enough talk of serious topics for the moment,” she continued as the curtains rustled and a servant arrived to set out the tea.

Ling Qi glanced at the servant as she finished setting things out and bowed low, receiving only a bare acknowledgement from Xiulan’s mother before respectfully backing from the room. “As you say, Lady Ai,” she agreed. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said as she took the cup of shimmering green tea set out for her, the cup hot against her hands.

“You are welcome to it,” the older woman said mildly, leaving her own cup to cool for the moment. “Now, I have heard much of the Sect from Xiulan, but I am certain that she has left things out. Tell me: just what have you children been up to?”

Despite the gulf in cultivation and age between them, Ling Qi recognized the expression so similar to the one Xiulan wore when seeking gossip. Iin some things, Xiulan still took after her Mother. She had no doubt that the woman across from her was fishing for more than personal amusement, but she had no reason not to share. “Well, there are a few things Xiulan might not have been privy to,” Ling Qi replied, taking a careful sip from the steaming cup. The heat of the tea made her mouth tingle pleasantly. “If Lady Ai thinks it is important…”

Her friend’s mother smiled thinly. “Now, now, no reason to hold back, Miss Ling. We are only amusing ourselves after all. I have a tale or to two which might be of interest as well.”

It was amazing, Ling Qi thought as the two of them began to swap gossip, the commonalities that even powerful cultivators retained with mortals. If Lady Ai’s stories were any indication, Xiulan had been a rambunctious child. It was a little hard to picture proud, self-confident Xiulan skulking her way into the family's stables because her father had refused to give her a horse of her own when she was six. Getting into fistfights with boys a year or two older and making them cry was a bit more believable. It seemed Xiulan’s temper had actually cooled a fair bit by the time she arrived at the Sect from both cultivation and time spent with her mother.

In return, Ling Qi shared stories of Sun Liling and the grand “war” between Cai Renxiang and her, and eventually, the meeting ended amicably. She now had an invitation to the gathering the Guo would be holding tonight after the preliminaries ended. She might be starting to get the hang of this after all.

For now, it was time to put politics out of her head and focus on the preliminaries.

Chapter 188-Preliminaries 4

Standing under the bright morning sun was far more difficult when facing a sea of cultivators, their many and varied auras mixing in her vision like a smear of nonsensical color.

She stood alongside Cai Renxiang in the front row of the disciples lined up on the paved path leading to the four arenas. On her other side was Kang Zihao, clad in his sleek silver armor. The proud boy hadn’t even looked at her as they had lined up, standing straight with his eyes forward and his plumed helmet under his arm. All of the other participants were here as well, many of them she only knew from passing sight.

It was difficult to pay the other disciples any mind with the veritable wall of power which faced them in the stands. In the center of the horseshoe-shaped tournament stands, the glowing star that was Duchess Cai was present in the highest box, shining down like a second sun. A handful of others stood out as well, even in the morass of potent auras, and at this distance, even Ling Qi’s keen eyes could hardly make them out.

There was a tall man with a great shock of white hair and a long white beard framing his face like a lion’s mane at one end of the horseshoe. At the other end of the horseshoe was a woman with hair the color of steel in a tight bun and burning golden eyes that were all too familiar. A pair of individuals in wide turtle patterned hats and heavy robes were seated beneath the Duchess’ box. Beside them stood a towering red haired man clad in black furs, with biceps as wide as her waist.

She felt a bead of sweat make its way down her temple. As if the guests’ presence wasn’t enough, above them in midair and floating over the exact center point between the four arenas was Yuan He, Head of the Argent Sect, Hero of the Emerald Seas, Fist of the Heavens, and Slayer of the Great Khan Ogodei. He looked the part. Yuan He was a tall man unbent by age despite deep wrinkles that marked his face and the long white beard which hung past his waist which was bound by ribbons of silk. His hair was short cropped but naturally spiked, and she could scent lightning on him.

He raised the polished wooden cane which he held in one hand and brought its steelshod point down as if rapping it on the floor. Thunder rang out along with a burst of wind that sent his white over-cloak fluttering, silencing the cacophony of the crowd.

“Welcome, honored guests, to the Argent Peak Sect,” the old man’s voice rang out, deep and commanding. “I welcome you all to witness the fruits of another year of Imperial prosperity. This year’s disciples are among the finest I have seen in this century,” Sect Head Yuan said, a touch of pride entering his ancient voice.

Ling Qi could practically feel the sullen shifting of disciples in the furthest back rows. Although there were other factors, such as Sun Liling and Bai Meizhen being placed at opposite ends of the front line, the disciples were organized mostly by strength of cultivation.

“I have no doubt that many of them will go on to fulfill momentous roles in our great Empire. I am certain that they are eager to impress you themselves however, so this old man shall not hold your attention for much longer,” the Head continued, running his fingers through his beard. “Disciples! The first round is beginning. When your name is called, advance to your assigned stage!”

Ling Qi took a deep breath as her fellow disciples began to be called up one by one, gradually filling the four stages. Sun Liling and Kang Zihao were called to the first arena, along with a bevy of older disciples, Gu Xiulan, Fan Yu, Chu Song, and Huang Da to the second, and finally, Gan Guangli, Ji Rong, Sun Liling’s second, as well as Han Fang, to the fourth. In the end, her name was not called. She would be fighting in the second round of preliminaries.

Ling Qi’s eyes flicked over to where Gu Xiulan stood in the second arena, immaculate in appearance. The only sign of her recent troubles was a few dark, spidery scars half-hidden by cosmetics, the thread of gold veil she wore these days, and the tight cloth wrap on her arm.

Ling Qi turned her eyes to the fourth arena containing Gan Guangli, Sun Liling’s vassal, Ji Rong, and Han Fang. This was the more dangerous fight, containing at least three actual competitors even if only two would advance from it. She stood to gain the most from watching this one. While Chu Song was a third realm second stage, one stage above Xiulan’s third realm first stage, Ling Qi was confident that Xiulan would advance from her preliminary.

Ling Qi was distracted from her thoughts then as the air around the arenas began to grow hazy and distorted. Her eyes widened as she looked to the now glowing gemstones set in the pillars at the corners of each arena. Right, there had been formations on those…

As if reading her thoughts, Sect Head Yuan spoke then. “Honored guests, what you see before you now is the craftsmanship of our esteemed Master of Formations and Head of the Talisman Department, Elder Sima Jiao,” he announced. “It will provide our disciples with a more varied and realistic battlefield on which to display their talents. Of course, it will not impede your enjoyment of the event. Simply focus your attention upon the disciples you would like to watch, and the formation will ensure you a splendid view.”

Ling Qi frowned at the implication and tried to focus her thoughts on both Xiulan and Gan Guangli, only to wince as her vision exploded into conflicting smears of color. Focusing on more than one disciple was beyond her. Grimacing, she focused on Gan Guangli, and the steadily darkening air around the fourth arena cleared before her eyes, revealing her peer in Cai’s service.

Within the formation, Gan Guangli now stood in a misty scrubland at the top of a hill, fog curling around his knees. The tall boy peered around into the dark gaps between the scraggly trees which served to obscure his view. He stood alone, which meant that along with the addition of terrain, space within the arenas was being expanded as well.

She supposed that meant that her idle plan of flooding the entire arena with mist was probably out. She watched Gan Guangli crouch down and press his hand against the ground for a moment. While she could hear the crunch of dirt under his armored boots, her ability to sense qi within the arena was stunted. Perhaps that was a good thing though. If she had to fight with the press of powerful auras in the crowd looming over her, it would be like trying to fight with a blinding light shining in her eyes.

A moment of focus shifted her view to Ji Rong, who was even now speeding through the undergrowth, legs blurring as he ran beneath the trees. Sparks crackled around eyes that darted around with a wary alertness that she hadn’t noticed before in the scarred boy. Han Fang was moving through the woods as well, his movements were silent despite his bulk. Ling Qi had to continually focus on him for her eyes to not slide away, guided by threads of wind that wrapped around him like a cloak.

Sun Liling’s vassal, Lu whatever-his-name-was - oh, Lu Feng - proved to be the most active as she turned her attention to him. Lu Feng was dropping down from the trees, his long silken black hair fluttering like a flag as a male disciple she didn’t recognize let out a choked scream, scrabbling at his throat before the stronger boy’s knees struck his back and drove him into the ground. Ling Qi grimaced as the unknown boy’s struggles ceased, the wire coiled around his throat glowing crimson in the mist, and jagging lines of qi erupted from the pinned boy to coil around the Sun second’s arms. A moment later, the unknown boy faded like a ghost from beneath Lu Feng, and she heard the Sect Head call out a name. She felt a flash of pity for the poor boy, the very first one out of the tournament.

She focused her attention back on Gan Guangli then and found him standing atop the hill he had started on. He stood ramrod straight, his spike gauntleted hands clasped together and his head bowed, as if in prayer. His height and bulk were only beginning to grow, inching upwards at a snail’s pace, but she knew that would change once the fighting properly began.

Then, first one disciple, then another, began to emerge from the trees below, dashing up the low slope of the hill. It took a moment for Ling Qi to recognize them vaguely from the time she had helped Gan Guangli train his followers. The disciples gave hasty bows before forming up around him, raising their shields and straight swords. As they fell into position around Gan Guangli, she saw their stances firm up almost imperceptibly at the same time that the taller boy’s armor began to take on a greater gleam.

For the next several minutes, the scene remained much the same. She took the occasional crash or flash of light from the forest as her cues to look in on the other boys. Lu Feng’s tactics were brutal and unfair, but Ling Qi had trouble not noticing some resemblance there. No eerie music followed him, but he appeared and disappeared from the mist like a phantom. His foes often didn’t even glimpse him before their limbs were tangled in his wires, and the bands of qi coiling around his arms grew more solid with each defeated opponent.

Han Fang, on the other hand, was much louder when he did strike, and most of the true disturbances in the arena came when his hammer splintered a tree or cratered the ground with a thunderous boom. He was prowling the edges though, hanging back, only striking ruthlessly to put down lone foes. Ji Rong surprised her though. He had not, in her sight, stopped for a fight even once, unless she counted the time he used a second realm disciple’s head as a springboard when the boy got in his way. His expression of focused determination worried her.

In any case, with this amount of time, Ling Qi had figured out the layout of the terrain. Gan’s hill stood near the center with the scrubby forest radiating out in every direction for at least a kilometer or two. Walls of impassable fog formed the boundaries of the arena. By now, three more disciples, an archer, a spearman, and a girl with an odd fan-like weapon, had joined up with Gan Guangli, and the group had begun to march on an unerring path toward Lu Feng’s current position.

She wondered how Gan Guangli knew where the other boy was, but Ji Rong was going to intersect them before they reached Lu Feng. She could see the moment when Gan Guangli realized it too, his gaze snapping over in the direction of the unsubtle qi of her fellow commoner.

“Steel Rampart, now!” Gan Guangli’s voice boomed as the six of them moved as one to face the threat. Two shields crashed together, forming a wall in front of their looming leader as Ji Rong erupted from the mist like a luminous bolt, scattering the mist in his wake. Lightning crackled in his shaggy hair, and the stormcloud embroidery on his loose robe roiled and rumbled like the real thing.

A pale arrow, its barbed head aglow with toxic purple light, was snatched out of the air before it could hit him, the scarred boy’s aura sparking and hissing where it met poisonous qi in the instant before the arrow was reduced to charred ash. Then he was upon them. A sound like a temple gong rang out as Ji Rong’s fist struck gleaming metallic qi spread in a wave from the two locked shields below him, but it only took an instant for cracks to spiderweb out from the point of impact.

But then, a spear lashed out from behind the shield wall like a striking serpent, piercing the metal qi with nary a ripple to bite at Ji Rong’s flank, forcing the boy to twist away only to be buffeted by a gale that stripped the leaf from every tree for a dozen meters around, driving him back to the ground in a crouch. Despite that, when the fist of a giant came down like a gleaming hammer from above, he rose to meet it in a single twisting motion. He drove his own lightning-wreathed fist into Gan’s gauntlet-clad hand with a cracking boom of thunder, halting it as the ground beneath him cratered downward.

The snaking spear came again, this time for his throat, but it was batted aside by his free hand even as he trembled under the crushing force of Gan’s fist. Blades of wind descended on him from every direction, visible only as distortions in the air, but they lost cohesion the moment they reached his flaring actinic aura.

“You can’t hold me down this time!” she heard him snarl, and in that moment, she was almost blinded by the flash as Ji Rong dissolved into lightning.

She saw Gan’s balance shift as the force pushing back against his fist vanished, staggering him, and she struggled to follow the movement of the crackling bolt of raw qi that had been Ji Rong as it zigged and zagged, first to the left, and then to the right, and then straight up, all in less time than it took to blink, only to resolve back into Ji Rong’s form right as his sandaled heel crashed into the top of Gan Guangli’s head like a bolt descending from the heavens. The blow slammed the now three-meter tall boy into the ground with the force of a falling tree. To their credit, Gan’s subordinates scattered, avoiding being crushed by his bulk. Ji Rong brought his hands together in midair and began to discharge a bolt of roiling plasma right into the fallen giant’s back with a victorious snarl.

The blast fizzled in Ji Rong’s hands as a booming warcry blasted the fog from the vicinity. A golden hand seized him by the throat and swung the scarred boy away, smashing him bodily through one of the trees still standing with a splintering crack. As she watched, Gan Guangli climbed to his feet, gleaming armor scuffed and dirtied, the fading phantom of a serene many-armed figure fading like morning mist from the air behind him.

“You are still too arrogant Ji Rong!” Gan Guangli shouted, even as his subordinates began to regroup around him. “Do you-”

Whatever he was going to say was lost as the boy with the spear, having just taken up his position next to Gan Guangli, suddenly thrust his spear upward, its tip still aglow with metallic light, right into the pit of the giant’s arm. Gan Guangli let out a howl of pain as crimson qi surged up through the boy’s arm and through the spear, and Ling Qi glimpsed the nigh invisible wires corded around the boy’s arms and throat before they dissolved under the power being poured through them.

“No one wants to hear you posture, Guangli.”

Chapter 189-Prelimaries 5

Lu Feng’s dry voice had echoed from the mist. His unwitting puppet slumped, limbs still jerking spasmodically as his spear dropped from nerveless fingers.

“Do you think anyone finds your nonsense endearing?” Ling Qi heard the scorn in his voice as she focused on him, finding the boy clinging to a tree branch high in the canopy, a wispy veil of leaves that was likely much more convincing without the formation’s viewing function hiding him. She noted that the qi coils around his arms had vanished, presumably due to being used up in the sneak attack.

Before anyone could react, half of a splintered tree slammed into the shocked shield wielders, sending their booted feet grinding backward through the dirt toward their wounded captain. “Tch, took you long enough, pretty boy,” Ji Rong spat out, along with a mouthful of blood, as he stalked back into the clearing.

“You speak as if I am not the reason that you were only fighting six on one,” Lu Feng griped, his voice echoing from everywhere.

“Such villainous tactics,” Gan Guangli growled, standing straight even as his right arm hung useless at his side, blooms of crimson and lilac flowers appearing through the gaps in his armor. “I would ask if you had pride Lu Feng, but I already know the answer!”

“Keep your bullshit to yourself,” Ji Rong said darkly, cracking his knuckles. “That creep has one thing right. I don’t want to hear it.”

“My lady’s regret is wasted upon a thug like you,” Gan Guangli scowled as his remaining subordinates gathered around him, eyeing each other warily. “I shall smite you…”

Ling Qi almost missed Gan’s good hand twitching, his fingers forming a symbol, and the archer and the fan-wielding girl both spun toward Lu Feng’s position. The wind howled as a miniature tornado sprung up around the tree Lu Feng was hidden in, ripping dirt and grass from the ground as it spun up, entrapping the wire-wielding boy. A sizzling arrow spun from raw black tar-like qi shot through it unhindered, piercing directly through both the bracer that was raised to block it and the forearm wearing it. To his credit, Lu Feng only snarled as the toxic qi sizzled in his wound, a corona of light like a thousand petalled lotus springing up behind his head to blast away the tornado and free him from its buffeting winds.

The other combatants were not idle. Ji Rong sprang forward with a loud warcry, repeating his earlier charge, though he changed his tactics. Whereas before, he had crashed directly against the shield wielders’ defense, this time he twisted in midair to use their shields as a springboard and launched himself over Gan Guangli’s head, escaping the now four-meter tall boy’s grasp by the smallest of hairs.

Despite the warning shout from Gan Guangli, the fan-wielding girl was not fast enough to avoid the descending bolt that Ji Rong transformed into, screaming as his feet crashed into her back and sent lightning coursing through her limbs. Ling Qi winced as the boy raised his foot and stamped down a second time, hearing ribs break as he put the girl out of the fight for good. One of the shield wielders was the next to fall. Ji Rong caught his blade in one hand, earning a bloody gash in his palm before slamming a lightning-charged knee twice into the boy’s groin.

There was no more talking now, no more time for it as the remaining combatants clashed amidst booming thunder and flashing light, reducing the terrain to little more than scorched wasteland. Yet despite the flashiness of the display, Ling Qi was quickly coming to an unpleasant realization.

Gan’s remaining arm was tangled in Lu Feng’s wires. His useless right arm was growing worse, twitching spasmodically as flowers continued to push out from the gaps in his armor, their petals dripping with fresh blood. Gan Guangli bellowed furiously, his armor flaring gold and golden hands formed in the air behind him, attached to arms that were more like sinuous whips. Three lashed out, two battering Ji Rong’s defenses and driving him back while the third struck out at Lu Feng, swelling to titanic size and smashing him into the ground with its palm.

It wasn’t enough. Even with her senses muted, Ling Qi knew that Gan Guangli’s technique was highly draining from the way his aura dimmed and his chest heaved with exertion.

Gan Guangli hurled himself at Ji Rong while the boy contemptuously dodged a brace of arrows fired by Gan’s remaining allies. He moved with impossible grace for someone as big and bulky as he was. But with only one arm and his continuing wound, it wasn’t enough. Ji Rong was an actinic blur, and he seemed more confident with each successful dodge.

A sizzling wire of crimson qi snaked out from the palm-shaped crater and coiled around Gan Guangli’s ankle; giving him a single, sharp tug. He stumbled, falling to one knee, and Ji Rong flashed there, both of his palms pressed against the scuffed expanse of Gan Guangli’s chestplate. A blast of lightning erupted from her peer’s back, his cry of pain drowned out by the thunder that happened a moment later.

Gan Guangli fell.

His remaining allies didn’t last long after that.

Ji Rong spat to the side as the last shield-wielding boy slumped to the ground. “You look like shit, pretty boy,” he commented, glancing at Lu Feng.

“Savor this moment,” his companion replied. Lu Feng looked terrible. One eye was swollen shut, and his clothing was badly shredded, his whole torso looked like one giant bruise. “It is the only time in which you will be able to say that you are more handsome than I.”

She scowled as she saw Ji Rong roll his eyes and turn away from the crater where Gan Guangli had fallen before his body had faded away. “Like I care,” he retorted irreverently. “So, are we done then or…?”

Lu Feng opened his mouth to respond but he never got a chance. The once handsome boy was consumed by a massive plume of dust as something slammed into him with terrible, thunderous force, ripping yet another crater in the pockmarked field. It only took a moment for her to make the connection as to what had just happened.

As the dust cleared, she saw Han Fang standing there, one foot on Lu Feng’s back as he raised his hammer, its head speckled with blood and hair. Ji Rong had already fallen back into a fighting stance, his expression suddenly wary. The mute boy simply rolled his shoulders and cocked an eyebrow, slapping the haft of his hammer into his palm in response.

A grin began to break out on Ji Rong’s face, but then a loud, piercing gong sounded. Ling Qi’s vision of the fight faded, leaving her once more looking at the arena normally.

It was over.

Ling Qi looked at the other arenas and found each one clear, leaving only two disciples standing. Her eyes immediately focused on the second arena. In it, Chu Song stood, nursing a dozen ugly-looking burns, and Xiulan was standing as well. Xiulan looked somewhat worse for the wear, her hair badly askew and a scowl on her face. Her back was wet with blood where someone had driven a blade into her. She was cradling her bad arm gingerly, and her wrist was bent at a bad angle.

As for the remaining arenas, unsurprisingly, Sun Liling and Kang Zihao stood victorious in the first, and in the third, she saw Wen Ai and a handsome boy she vaguely recognized from the girl’s party.

Her gaze moved to Cai Renxiang, whose expression might as well have been carved from stone. She didn’t need words to understand. As the sole remaining Cai retainer in the New Year’s Tournament, Ling Qi could not afford to lose her preliminary or even give a bad show in winning.

She listened with half an ear as Sect Head Yuan spoke, congratulating the victors on their prowess and praising their ability. He also indicated that any injured victors should promptly go to the infirmary where the rest of the defeated disciples had been sent.

As he spoke, she stole another glance at Cai Renxiang. The girl’s day had been pretty poor so far. Between her mother’s “good news” and now this. It might have been impulsive, but Ling Qi couldn’t just do nothing. With her long sleeves hiding the motion, she let her fingers brush the back of her liege’s hand, drawing her attention. Meeting her gaze without turning her head, Ling Qi did her best to project confidence into her expression. Without words, there was only so much she could do, but…

She caught something in the other girl’s gaze and received the smallest, shallow nod. Although Cai’s expression didn’t change, Ling Qi thought she saw the other girl’s shoulders straighten almost imperceptibly.

There wasn’t time for much else as they were called to their respective stages. Bai Meizhen and Cai Renxiang each had their own arena, along with a large number of very unfortunate second realms. Han Jian and most of the remaining older disciples went to the third. Ling Qi went to the fourth. With her came Shen Hu and a miscellany of other disciples, the vast majority of which she was pretty sure had been Sun supporters.

Except for Shen Hu, who glanced at her with an expression of vague interest, none of them looked very happy to see her, but neither did they look surprised. Shen Hu had cleaned up. He was wearing a pair of baggy black pants held up by a grey sash, but he hadn't bothered with anything else. Did he idolize Elder Zhou or something? She looked away from him with a huff.

Of course she would be the only one in the second round to get peer competition. After seeing the composition of Gan Guangli’s preliminary, with three first year third realms stuffed into one arena and two of them allied against her fellow retainer, Ling Qi suspected manipulation. There was no use complaining though.

Ling Qi prepared herself as the formations began to light up and the arena blurred and faded away, only to laugh as she found herself standing ankle-deep in the snow atop a stony cliff, a slow rain of snowflakes veiling the sky from her sight. It seemed Xin - and Elder Jiao - were looking out for her because she recognized these cliffs. How could she not when she had trekked up and down these for months to meet her mentor, Zeqing?

Now, she needed to decide how to handle her competitors.

Ling Qi flicked her wrist, expressing her flute from within her ring as the echoes of her laughter faded into the snowy sky. There were so many things she needed to consider. How her performance would reflect on Cai Renxiang in the wake of Gan Guangli’s failure. The likelihood of defeat if she decided to face down Shen Hu. The effects it could have on her friends’ elimination matches if she allowed another third realm to pass. What tactics would meet the most approval from the audience. That and more passed through her thoughts, but…

<It’s fine to have a little flair, you know,> Sixiang tempted, the spirit reading her mood perfectly. <And no glory comes without risk. Why not let yourself have a little fun for once?>

<Big Sister? What are we going to do?> Zhengui asked a moment later, sensing her indecision. <Do you want Zhengui to beat them all up?>

Ling Qi let out a breath, looking out over the cliffside. She could sense other disciples, distant candles in the storm. “Not just yet, little brother,” she murmured, raising her flute to her lips. “You'll get your chance soon.”

Ling Qi knew objectively that she was powerful for an Outer disciple. In under a year, she had risen to the point where she could escape the clutches of Sun Liling and force Bai Meizhen to take her seriously. There were only a handful of others who could realistically be called her peer. She still didn’t feel that way. She could hunt beasts and treat with spirits, but when it came to fighting people, she still felt like a thief. Hiding and running were her go-to tactics, and she was conservative with her techniques and rarely showed off.

It was time to break that pattern. A soft melancholy song began to play. Mist poured from her flute, a roiling waterfall of clinging, cloying clouds that swiftly veiled her and flowed out. It consumed the cliffside and rolled further and further out as Ling Qi pushed more and more qi into her construct. Flickering black shadows took shape, red of eye and black of claw, as the mist grew thicker still, taking on a heavy weight from the protection she layered upon it.

Sixiang’s laughter chimed softly in her ears as Ling Qi lowered her flute and swallowed a pill, restoring most of the qi she had just spent. “What’s so funny?” she asked idly as she began to walk toward the cliff, her melody still playing all around her.

<Oh, I was just thinking it’s such a lovely night for a stroll,> the spirit replied playfully.

Ling Qi glanced up at the silver sliver grinning down from the snowy sky. “I guess it is,” she agreed, reaching the cliff’s edge. “Nothing like a nice, moonlit walk,” she said before her body dissolved into darkness and flowed over the stony edge like dark water, taking the roiling bank of cloying mist with her.

Chapter 190-Preliminaries 6

Zou Chen scowled at his “companions” as they quarrelled like children. This frustration… It seemed that this year was not ready to let up on him just yet. Joining the prestigious Argent Peak Sect should have been a great opportunity for advancement, and joining his fortunes to Sir Kang’s should have only secured his opportunity further. He stood at the peak of the second realm at a mere fifteen years of age and would likely break into the third realm within the next year. In any other place, in any other time, that would have been enough.

Yet here he stood, having to team up with this rabble of commoners and scions of insignificant baronial houses just to hold even a chance at moving on to the actual tournament. He could only curse his fortunes that so many mighty houses had chosen to stack their own scions against each other here of all places. That they would be joined by so many common-born cultivators of freakish talent added insult to injury.

“Cease your squabbling,” he snapped, rapping the butt of his spear against the snow-covered ground. “The plan is simple, is it not?”

“Easy for you to say,” one of the impertinent commoners grumbled. He glared at the boy, who scowled back, crossing his arms. “You’re not the one who has to hold the line.”

“It is only thanks to me that you will have a chance to strike at that wretched girl at all,” Zou Chen snarled. “The talisman that will blow away the sneak’s mist was provided by my house.” It had cost him too. His Father had been displeased at the expense of equipping him with such a potent thing, but when he had learned that he would be matched against that girl, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and plead for the use of it.

He still remembered the gawky, plain little rat stumbling around the mountain in ignorance at the beginning of the year. He remembered her trickery during Elder Zhou’s test, shoving him into that wretched well and taking the position that should have been his. He remembered the humiliation he had suffered in the ambush arranged by Kang Zihao on the Bai scion and of falling in with that worm Yan Renshu after Sir Kang had abandoned him for their failure. If he had been given a tenth of the good fortune that a rat like her had enjoyed…

Stewing in his rage, Zou Chen endured the others bickering as they finally decided on the battle lines and moved out, fanning out to begin their search for the target. It would likely be difficult. The rat was good at hiding after all.

It was, of course, at that moment that he heard the faint notes of that damnable song, echoing across the snowy field that they had gathered in. His gaze snapped upward to the black cliffs that loomed above, he saw it. A titanic wave of mist flowed down the slopes.

He heard the others cry out in alarm, reorienting their formation toward the enemy. He felt his mouth grow dry as it sped toward them, flowing with the speed and fury of a spring flooding. Since when had she been able to summon so much mist? When had she been so fast?!

Gritting his teeth, Zou Chen raised his right arm, wrapped in the lengthy chain of beads that formed the Rippling Resplendence Rosary, and shouted the signal to the others to prepare their strike. They couldn’t afford a mistake now!

As the forward edge of the mist engulfed the two boys at the front, he channeled his qi into the rosary until the beads began to shine and then to crack as he overloaded the talisman, preparing its emergency function. As the first tendrils of mist curled around his ankles, he thrust his hand forward with a triumphant shout. The beads on his arm exploded violently, a rippling wave of visible lake qi erupting outward through the mist, leaving his arm numb.

The mist did not vanish.

It lightened and grew thinner, but it wasn’t gone. The girl to his right, her bow and arrows imbued with enough supporting techniques and talismans to glow like a miniature sun, loosed her shot with a howl of wind and thunder, but the barely visible shadow at the center of the mist merely flickered to the side, avoiding the projectile with contemptuous ease. Or perhaps it had never been the technique’s caster in the first place.

Zou Chen backed up, alarm building as he batted away the shadowy claws of some twisted thing that had sought his throat. The mist grew thicker once more, chilling him to the bone as it dragged at his limbs and seeped into his channels, leeching away at his vigor. He heard the others crying out and fighting and turned to find them, but they were no longer visible. He fought his way toward the sounds regardless, the darting blade of his spear batting away phantoms and churning the mist around him.

All the while, that horrible song played unceasing.

Zou Chen cursed, his spearpoint slashing through the twisted phantom of a wolf and darted toward where he last remembered seeing his allies. This shouldn’t have happened. His talisman should have destroyed any qi construct not at the fourth or fifth step of the third realm. That damned commoner rat! It wasn’t fair!

He choked as he heard a high, clear voice sing out. His spear fell from nerveless fingers as a horrible cold washed through him, freezing his flesh and freezing his qi. In his weakness, phantoms tore at him, shadowy claws tearing his robes and skin alike. As he fell to his knees, he glimpsed her in the mist, standing atop a boulder. In the mist and darkness, the only thing he could make out were her eyes, glinting like chips of glacial ice.

There was nothing in that gaze. No pity. No recognition. No care at all.

Was he really so small?

***

Ling Qi looked away from her enemy as his body dissolved into glittering lights. That had been alarming, she admitted privately. The talisman he had used had stripped the protection of Traveler’s End from her mist in an instant, but thankfully, her technique had done its job and absorbed the dispel, leaving her mist still active. The other disciple’s frantic follow-up attempts to dispel her mist had been useless, too weak by far.

Still, it was probably for the best that she took that one out permanently. He might have had other tricks up his sleeve.

<One of them just ran off the cliff,> Sixiang laughed.

Ling Qi cursed under her breath. If the disciples were knocked out of the arena, she couldn’t drain their qi to restore her own. She had been able to recover almost back to full capacity so far by sweeping through the narrow ravines and over cliffs, dancing around various disciples and letting her Elegy do their work.

It was time to stop messing around. She could sense Shen Hu from here. The other boy was making no effort to hide his aura, and without the “noise” of the crowd, he stood out like a mountain among pebbles.

With a small flex of her legs, Ling Qi bounded from the boulder back to the cliffside, using the surface to spring out to the other side of the snowfield, her limbs trailing off into shadows as the wind howled in her ears. Leaping and running through the familiar cliffs, disciples fled before her mist, and she followed, changing course just enough to tangle them in the mist for a few moments to recover the qi spent keeping her Grinning Crescent Dancer technique active. It didn’t take long to find the plateau that Shen Hu was camped on.

It was a worrying sight. What had been an open rocky field was now a bubbling expanse of wet mud. Snow fell upon the sticky field and immediately melted, leaving pools of stagnant water and soft clay exposed to the open air. At the center on a crumbling platform of still dry stone stood Shen Hu, his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his bare chest. His forearms and hands were clad in leather bracers and gloves with faintly glowing stitching. His eyes snapped open as she approached, and he turned toward her, a smile blooming across his pale features.

“It looks like this isn’t going to be boring after all,” he said brightly, peering into the roiling cloud of her oncoming mist. “Come on then!”

Ling Qi didn’t respond as she leapt from the last cliff, carrying her mist with her, and expressed her flying sword, its singing joining her own. She arced upward, activating the powers of her gown to remain airborne even after the impressive force of her leap ran out. She kept her eyes fixed on Shen Hu as she let the vital warmth of wood mingle with the cool absence of darkness, thick barklike armor formed of raw qi spreading over her body in an instant.

Shen Hu wasn’t idle either. Glittering growths of black diamond were spreading across his hands and forearms as he raised them into a ready stance. Then the mist was upon him. The dark haired boy jerked back with a frown as multiple techniques simultaneously assailed him, his still, reflective qi rippling under the assault. Phantoms clawed uselessly at his increasingly armored hide, but she found his spirit less well guarded. The cloying, draining notes of her Elegy found purchase, but the mist had failed to cloud his senses.

His eyes followed her silhouette as she soared overhead. A rumble echoing through the air was the only warning of his counterattack. A geyser of mud exploded upward violently, and she flew out of the way. A second and a third followed, forcing her to spin and twist crazily in the air to avoid them.

By the time she emerged from the gauntlet, Shen Hu was gone from her sight. She could still sense his qi, but he was beneath the mud now, his aura hidden beneath the qi that saturated the whole of the field. Worse, she found that her mist could not penetrate the wet soil, infused by his own qi. Ling Qi landed, clinging to the side of one of the cliffs overseeing the field with a frown. This was going to be difficult.

For a moment, she stared down at the artificial mud flat below, letting the power of the Argent Mirror flow through her eyes to try to determine her enemy’s position in the muck, but it proved fruitless. His qi was blended so well, it was almost as if…

<It’s a bit of a reversal, isn’t it?> Sixiang mused.

<Oh! The bad guy is pretending to be a beast!> Zhengui exclaimed a moment later, seemingly not wanting to be upstaged by Sixiang.

Ling Qi didn’t take the time to reply as she sprang back out, blurring into a black streak as the power of her gown took hold. The moment that her mist touched the rippling qi of the mud field, she sang out the first sharp notes of the Frozen Soul Serenade, and beneath her, water and mud froze solid in a meters long streak. There was a deep rumbling groan from the mud below, and a fluctuation in the qi that confirmed her theory. The mud field was Shen Hu’s spirit beast.

Shen Hu didn’t take her invasion without retaliation. Weighty qi slammed down upon her meridians, dragging her earthward despite her efforts to rebuke the spiritual attack. Ling Qi felt lethargy flood her body, the urge to simply lie down for a long nap under the humid summer sun surging in her thoughts.

<None of that now,> Sixiang chided, the spirit’s own chaotic qi surging out, expelling the invading muddy qi.

Ling Qi twisted herself violently to the side the moment her energy returned, avoiding the pillar of sharpened black gemstone that had erupted from the mud below. Its gleaming surface exploded outward as she did, dozens of zigzagging spires of sharp rock springing out to catch her out of place, but they scraped harmlessly off of the wood qi which infused her gown and flesh, draining only her qi.

Ling Qi grimaced as she flew straight up, speeding off toward the cliffs to get out of range of Shen Hu’s attacks. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she did have a plan now. Since the field was his bound spirit, then she could target it with her mist, even if she couldn’t get at him directly.

For now though, she needed to regain the qi she had just spent fighting.

The other disciples were growing wise to her strategy. As she made a pass again, weaving through the mountains to strike, drain qi, and leave them behind, many tried to run or hide rather than face her. Cai’s former subordinates, what few of them were here in this arena, looked to be taking advantage too if the reduction in the number of targets were an indication.

Ling Qi frowned. She was on a time limit.

Her second assault on Shen Hu was much less direct than the first. She descended on him from the cliffs above like a sudden storm, circling his spirit beast at the edge of her mist’s range, so that only a few meters overlapped the mud at a time. She felt the beast’s discontent in the rumbling earth as its qi was sapped away, one bit at a time. Several times, she felt an attempt to dispel her mist ripple outward, but it simply splashed against her own qi uselessly. The most troublesome thing was that technique that inspired lethargy that he kept casting over her, but thankfully, Sixiang took care of that.

She glimpsed Shen Hu once or twice, noting the growing frustration on his face. After the first few passes, she had a good feel for the range of his diamond spears, and even when he launched the twisting things at her, they weren’t too hard to avoid at this distance. She nipped at the edges of his spirit with mist, frost, and song, slowly wearing it down. It was perhaps not the most glorious tactic, but Ling Qi thought that there was a certain beauty in the inevitability of his end.

Unfortunately, the need to stay in flight, away from the muddy ground that was his domain, drained her reserves quickly, forcing her to peel off for recovery. With the number of disciples hiding on the mountain dwindling, finding easy prey grew harder.

This was the point where her plan met its first major problem. As she was tracking down a fleeing second realm, she felt Shen Hu and his spirit’s qi, that towering aura which had allowed her to find him, shrink inward and fade from her “sight.” Ling Qi considered the problem while she swooped down on the fleeing girl she was chasing, letting the mist overtake her and drain her qi.

Losing his mud field was a disadvantage since it was preventing her from striking at him more strongly and more directly, but it also kept him immobile. If he was now going to move around stealthily, she would have to keep her eyes open for any ambushes. She would assume that he could move through the earth the way she could move through shadows and watch her footing.

With that in mind, Ling Qi left the disciple she had been hunting behind, shivering in the snow and drained of energy. Keeping to the highest surfaces she could find, Ling Qi began to hunt for Shen Hu. It proved far more difficult than she had hoped. When she returned to the rapidly drying and freezing mud field, she found little to go on. There was certainly nothing so obvious as physical tracks, which made what she had learned about tracking from Su Ling mostly useless. She could feel the traces of his qi, or rather, that of his spirit beast, but only up until it reached the cliff face which she had been using as a springboard when attacking him. There, it entered the rock and faded beyond her senses.

Her head jerked up a moment later as she felt a burst of his qi to the east. Pouring on speed, she flew toward the location, only to find disturbed snow, a splotch of runny mud, and the fading light of a disciple who had been defeated.

The next quarter of an hour was spent in a game of cat and mouse. As she chased the fading trail of his qi around the mountain, one disciple after another fell, drowned in mud, their backs slashed open by diamond claws, or simply hurled from the cliffs. That was not to say that she didn’t catch up to him at times, coming down with the fury of a winter storm and battering the spirit he wore like a suit with song and ice.

Every time she found him and struck, he would just sink back into the earth, an infuriating grin on his face as her mist washed over him. She could feel the mud beast growing weaker with every engagement until at least it crumbled, fading back into this dantian, but even the loss of his spirit beast came too late. The boy proved absurdly resilient, and a slate grey slab of polished stone as large as a grown man that seemed to be his domain weapon would flash out to absorb her attacks before vanishing back into his dantian.

As the mountain peaks and her mist faded, Ling Qi scowled at the boy who now stood across from her in the arena.

“It’s not fair to get mad when you’re the one who played dirty first,” Shen Hu pointed out lazily.

“I know that,” Ling Qi huffed. “How did you keep escaping my mist even after you left the mud field? I felt it catch you.”

He cocked his head to the side as the arena began to lighten up. “How did you keep throwing off my Languid Summer art without even slowing down?”

“Fair point,” Ling Qi replied grudgingly but didn’t answer otherwise. She wasn’t just going to reveal Sixiang if she didn’t have to. Did he have a second spirit as well? That would certainly be a change. Few disciples had any spirits, and of those with more than one, she only knew of herself and Bai Meizhen.

Ling Qi looked around as the sky came back into view and noted, somewhat sheepishly, that the other three arenas were already clear. Cai Renxiang and a former enforcer stood in one while Meizhen and a rather ill-looking boy shared the second. Han Jian stood in the third, looking heavily battered as he leaned on Heijin for support, along with one remaining older year.

“With our final match being settled at last -” a voice announced as Ling Qi looked up and met the storm grey eyes of Sect Head Yuan, looking down at their arena with a faintly amused expression, “- I call this first day to a close. Congratulations to all of our fine disciples who have passed through this initial crucible…”

Ling Qi listened as the Sect Head went through the formalities of ending the preliminaries, joining the other winners in a line as they stood before the audience. While she would have to speak with Cai Renxiang and Gan Guangli first, she would have some free time between now and the Golden Fields party in the evening.

***

Ling Qi folded her hands in her lap, keeping her expression neutral. Across from her in the windowless meeting room on the second floor of the tournament building, Cai Renxiang sat with her eyes closed, breathing deeply. The only overt sign of the other girl’s stress was the rapid tapping of one of her fingers on the wooden armrest of the chair.

Sect Head Yuan had ended his speech just minutes ago, giving the gathered winners leave to make their exit. Cai Renxiang gestured for her to follow, and so she had, pausing only to give a small nod of acknowledgement to Han Jian and Bai Meizhen. Since then, Cai Renxiang had not spoken yet, and Ling Qi wasn’t inclined to be the one to break the silence.

“You did well.” Ling Qi looked up as her liege did just that. “Although you made a tactical error at the end, the outcome was still favorable.”

“Thank you,” Ling Qi replied, frowning at the assessment. “How could I have done better?” she asked. She couldn't really see where she could have improved unless she had gotten a lucky shot in on Shen Hu.

“Your overall strategy was well thought out,” Cai Renxiang elaborated, finally opening her eyes and meeting Ling Qi’s gaze. “Once it became clear that you could not outpace him, it would have been better to find at least one of the lesser disciples to protect.”

She hadn’t thought of that, but it probably would have forced her opponent to come to her or made him look like a coward if he had refused to engage. “I will remember that for the future,” Ling Qi acknowledged before changing the subject. “Did your own match go well, Lady Cai?” She knew the other girl wouldn’t have had trouble, so the real question she was asking…

The corners of the faintly shining girl’s lips quirked downward. “I achieved what was necessary. I do not much care for the method I was forced to use,” she said, drumming her fingers against the armest. “That may have been the point,” she finally added in a tone that was suspiciously close to a grumble.

Ling Qi let the silence extend before asking, “What was your match like?”

Cai Renxiang let out a frustrated breath. “I was left to face my enemies on an open plain. Given my opposition’s weakness, even being seen to put forth serious effort would have been a failing on my part, as would allowing the preliminary to proceed for too long. In the end, I chose to make use of my Mother’s Incandescent Tyrant Art to force submission in an instant,” she said, frown deepening. “I dislike the indiscriminate nature of the art’s ultimate technique.”

Ling Qi opened her mouth to ask what the art was, but then she glanced toward the faint halo of light behind the girl’s head and remembered that terrible pressure exuded by her Mother. She was pretty sure she knew already. “Well, you succeeded in showing your strength though, right?” she pointed out, waiting for the shallow nod from her liege before continuing. “Then it’s fine. Sometimes, collateral happens.” It wasn’t like she had never caused damage in the process of getting away with a theft when stealth failed. “I have to ask… Why were the makeup of the preliminaries so clearly stacked against us though?”

“I find that my understanding of Mother’s thoughts on the matter is lacking,” Cai Renxiang admitted, the pale light glimmering behind her head slowly ebbing back to a more healthy brightness. “I imagine that it was meant to test my abilities further,” she theorized slowly. “Yet in allowing others to exercise such power openly, here in Emerald Seas, in front of her very eyes… All my lessons say that this is a loss of face for the Cai.”

“Maybe the Duchess regards that as an acceptable cost?” Ling Qi hedged. She didn’t know much about this kind of thing, but in her one meeting with the woman, she had felt a certain irreverent attitude in her bearing.

Her liege shook her head, the dangling diamond earrings she had donned for the tournament jangling faintly. “Perhaps. And yet, I have never known my Mother to accept a slight without offering retort, even in the service of other goals. It may merely be my inexperience, but I feel that I am missing some portion of the pattern she is weaving.”

Ling Qi glanced up as she felt the presence approaching from outside, its qi muted and guttering low. Cai Renxiang fell silent as well, her expression of consternation smoothing away into her usual stern expression as she stood up from her seat just in time for the heavy sound of the door’s knocker to ring out.

“Enter,” Lady Cai said, all the little traces of frustration and emotion in the girl’s voice fading away.

Ling Qi ignored Sixiang’s murmurs about the deliberate nature of those “slips” as she carefully stood up as well.

The door opened, and Gan Guangli stepped through, looking positively small. Wearing a plain silver robe, he seemed diminished. As the door silently swung shut behind him, the tall boy first fell to his knees on the thin carpet and then fell forward into a full kowtow with a booming thud. Ling Qi winced at the sound of his forehead hitting the floor.

She glanced worriedly at Cai Renxiang, who looked down at Gan Guangli without expression. “Baron Gan, explain your failure,” she stated blankly.

“I have no explanation sufficient for the insult I have allowed to be dealt to you,” Gan Guangli replied, his voice muffled by the carpet. “This servant’s preparations and strength were both insufficient.” Ling Qi shifted uncomfortably at the brittle edge in the boisterous boy’s voice. “I can only beg forgiveness for my weakness, Lady Cai.”

Silence fell in the wake of Gan’s words, and Ling Qi glanced surreptitiously at Cai, whose expression hadn’t changed. As seconds ticked by, the atmosphere in the room only grew more uncomfortable, but Ling Qi held her peace regardless.

Finally, Cai Renxiang spoke, and her words were without pity. “You have no excuse then,” she said calmly. “The failure is wholly your own, and as such, you will need to work without pause to redeem yourself. Since it is no longer possible for you to be at my side, you will need to be reassigned.”

She saw Gan Guangli’s fists clench, and she found herself wishing that Cai would be more understanding here.

Sixiang sighed irritably. <Do you really think that the big guy would be happy with that?>

Ling Qi lowered her eyes to the floor. She knew Gan wouldn’t. Her liege continued to speak, unmindful of Ling Qi’s internal conversation.

“... In the year following, it will be your duty to improve on the discipline in the Outer Sect. Recruit the talented in my name, and forge them into fighters worthy of the Cai. Show the province our might in the next year. In this, you will have your chance to regain your honor as my shield. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely, my Lady Cai,” Gan Guangli vowed fervently. “I will not dare bring such shame to your name again. I will carry your generosity in my heart, even in your absence!”

Cai gave only a small nod in response before looking to Ling Qi. “I will be relying on you in the coming year, Baroness Ling. I hope that you will be up to the task.”

“I thank you for your confidence, Lady Cai,” she replied, falling into formality as well. “I will do my best to solve any problems which you come upon.”

“Very good,” the white clad girl said, letting out a breath. “Ling Qi, you are dismissed. There are some private matters which I must take care of.”

She wasn’t dismissing Gan though. She bowed and offered some formal words of parting before leaving Cai to it. As she stepped out and turned to close the door, she caught Gan’s shoulders shaking and Cai’s hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

Ling Qi turned her eyes away and closed the door. Some things were not meant to be seen.

Chapter 191-Tournament 1

Ling Qi found her afternoon free. She would have to make sure she left herself time to get ready for the Golden Fields gathering tonight, but that still left her time for her own interests.

Ling Qi considered seeking out Meizhen or Li Suyin, but eventually, she decided against it. The two of them would be busy with their families, and she didn’t want to butt in there. She could visit her own Mother, but she thought that she would rather wait until she actually had her Inner Sect placement secure.

She did have an idea that had occurred to her in the aftermath of her preliminary today. It had been nice to face someone in a real match and not come out of it as enemies.

Of course, her idea ran into some trouble when it came to actually tracking the boy down. Shen Hu had wandered off almost immediately when the victorious disciples had been excused. Still, with so many people around, a few polite inquiries eventually gave her a lead.

His trail led her down off the mountain and out into the lowlands. She found Shen Hu at the side of one of the little rivers that wound its way through the Sect’s lands, standing barefoot and ankle deep in the mud as he poured water out over the bubbling mass of muck that was his spirit beast. Said beast rumbled dangerously, the marsh reeds growing from it rustling as she alighted on a tree branch a few meters upriver from them. Shen Hu looked up at that sound, lowering the wooden bucket in his hands.

“Hello. Did you want something?” he asked bluntly but cautiously.

Ling Qi allowed herself to drop into a seated position on a lower branch, the thin limb flexing under her weight but holding steady. “I wanted to congratulate you on a good match,” she answered. Now that she was here, she regretted that she hadn’t planned this out better; she wasn’t sure where to take the conversation.

<Stop laughing, Sixiang,> she thought grumpily.

Shen Hu stared at her then nodded, turning to refill the bucket from the river. Ling Qi caught sight of formation characters glimmering on the inner edge as it took in water. “Well, thank you,” he replied, glancing up at her with a neutral expression. “A straightforward fight would have been more fun, but that’s probably because I’m better at those.”

Ling Qi nodded, smiling slightly. “I won’t apologize for sticking to what I’m good at,” she said. “Is your spirit beast doing well? It did suffer the brunt of things.”

Shen Hu hummed in agreement, pouring out the water over the mud beast’s bubbling body. The water he poured sparkled with an almost unnatural purity now, unlike the rather mundane river water. “Lanhua is fine. She just needs a good rest and feeding, don’t you, girl?” he said with a touch of warmth. The living mud pit below him let out a burbling rumble that somehow sounded content. Shen Hu glanced back up at her then. “How about you?” he asked slowly. “You didn’t get hurt, but I remember you having a beast too. He alright with getting left out of things?”

Zhengui had been dissatisfied at not getting to help, but in the aftermath of the preliminaries, he had fallen into a light doze, so she hadn’t really chatted with him about it. “He wanted to help, but he’ll get his chance starting tomorrow. I doubt they’ll set up the singles to give that much advantage to one of the fighters.”

It would be ridiculous for her to expect to be given so much free reign to set up again. Besides, running around for the whole match would be less impressive in a duel.

Shen Hu simply nodded in response, turning back to his own spirit beast. Silence remained between them before Ling Qi broke the silence. “Did you really just miss last year’s tournament on your own?” she asked somewhat incredulously. Even as dedicated as she was to cultivation, something like that would be extreme.

He paused in the process of bending to refill his bucket, and Ling Qi studiously looked skyward. Shen Hu’s pants were riding a little low there. Perhaps it was the weight of the mud dragging at the hems. “My friend Nan Ju was supposed to wake me, but he never showed up,” he said simply as he resumed his work.

“Did you ever find out why?” Ling Qi asked curiously.

“I suppose we weren’t friends after all.” Shen Hu hummed then, looking down in satisfaction as he emptied the bucket onto Lanhua again. “He made it to the Inner Sect. We haven’t talked since.”

“Shouldn’t you be a little angrier about that?” Ling Qi pointed out, giving the boy a side-eyed look as he adjusted his sash, fixing the error she had noticed.

“I was pretty mad,” Shen Hu admitted, turning to face her. “That is why I left to cultivate on my own. It was my own fault for relying on one person like that.”

<Running off like that probably left him weaker than he should have been,> Sixiang noted. <You humans need tutors and such to learn your abilities, don’t you?>

Ling Qi didn’t reply to Sixiang’s musings. “I hope you aren’t going to just become a hermit,” she teased lightly. “That’d be kind of a loss, wouldn’t it?”

As Lanhua settled into a more even pool at his feet, bubbling more slowly in a facsimile of sleep, Shen Hu nodded. “Mm, I probably got a little carried away. I can’t repay the Sect if I just wander off,” he said seriously.

“Yeah, you would not do anyone any good like that.” Ling Qi considered what else she could say here, and with some prodding from Sixiang, she eventually continued, “In any case, it’s been nice talking with you, Shen Hu. If we both make it into the Inner Sect, I wouldn’t mind training together some time.”

Shen Hu blinked, and then, after a moment, he smiled. “Yeah. You’re Ling Qi, right? I wouldn’t mind that.”

Ling Qi looked away, feeling oddly self-conscious. “I should go back. I have to prepare for a big gathering tonight. I’ll see you at the tournament tomorrow?”

“See you there,” he replied with a nod.

As he turned back to the river, Ling Qi took flight, the swaying of the branch she had been seated on the only remaining sign of her presence.

***

Ling Qi had not been prepared at all for what a gathering hosted by a ducal clan was like. Comparing it to the parties she had attended at the Sect was like comparing night to day.

At the far end of the grand pavilion of light blue and black silk floated the twanging notes of a zither played with skill that Ling Qi could not honestly say was inferior to her own. On a raised stage to her right, a pair of women clad in trailing scarves and jingling bells danced, curved swords in hand; the flash of metal and the swishing of silk drew appreciative comments from the watchers nearby.

There were a dozen little stages like that, each containing their own display of entertainment and skill. A man in a bright feathered cloak in Gu colors performed acrobatic tricks with a pair of whirling, burning batons, tracing out images of legend in the heat haze around him. Opposite him, a heavyset man with a passing resemblance to Fan Yu skillfully sculpted the pillar of stone sharing his stage into shape after shape upon request from his viewers.

Her fellow attendees themselves were a riot of sensation. They were bewildering not simply in a visual sense, though there was certainly plenty of variance in that. Brightly colored and adorned robes and gowns formed an ever shifting sea of color and conflicting patterns. For Ling Qi, the truly dizzying part was the overwhelming nature of their spiritual auras. Unlike at the Sect, she was surrounded by people who were at the worst, her peers in cultivation, and at the best, far, far above her ability. Although their qi was politely restrained, even so, flashes of dozens of domains nipped at the edges of her senses, making it difficult to focus on her efforts to mingle.

It seemed that she had made a positive impression so far with her performance in the preliminaries. Ling Qi kept her smile through the congratulations and the probing questions, some more subtle than others, regarding both her and Cai Renxiang and their future intentions. Then there were the “commiserations” regarding Gan and his loss, many which sounded less than sincere to her ear. Sixiang’s whispers helped her here; with the knowledge that she was being prodded and tested to discern her temperament and weaknesses, she kept her composure. And, well, she didn’t truly expect Golden Fields courtiers to be sympathetic when it was a Golden Fields competitor that advanced from that arena.

Then there were the betrothal offers. Middle-aged men and women alike offered to introduce her to younger cousins or sons. Generally, they insinuated that now would be a good time to start thinking about the future and wouldn’t the so-and-so family be a fine connection for a young up-and-coming baroness. Ling Qi managed to politely deflect those for the most part, citing the need to consult with her liege and her need to focus on her personal cultivation in the immediate term, but it was a hard reminder that she would start having to think about such things sooner than she liked.

Some encounters were more pleasant than others. Her chat with the jovial Bao Quan was refreshingly pleasant, even if the jolly man did manage to slip his own offer in. Apparently, his youngest nephew was about her age. For all that she knew intellectually that it was a surprisingly good offer given the status of the Bao, Ling Qi couldn’t bring herself to do more than stall and excuse herself. She really did need a moment to catch her breath.

<It looks like humans really can throw a ball after all,> Sixiang commented as Ling Qi stepped out of the crowd, finally reaching the refreshment table near the rear of the pavilion. <It’s not home, but this isn’t bad either.>

Ling Qi was glad someone was having fun, she grumbled internally. She just felt wrung out. Sweeping her eyes over the wide array of sparkling, many hued drinks available, she followed the table toward the non-alcoholic ones. There were plenty of those, including juices of exotic fruits and distillation of nectars and stranger things. Eventually, she chose to stick with something simple, a gleaming cider made from certain apples in the Ebon Rivers province according to the label.

Turning away from the table after the attending servant filled her cup, Ling Qi took a step back toward the crowd, mentally preparing herself for another round, only to bump into someone after just a couple of steps. The superhuman grace that she had acquired in the past year saved her from fumbling the cup in her hand.

Ling Qi had managed to run into someone she was quite sure hadn’t been there a moment ago. She cursed internally as the man she had run into began to look back over his shoulder at her, already running through the ways to apologize while trying to figure out who he was and what kind of status he had.

The man was tall and wiry in build, if a bit past his prime going by the thinning grey hair at his temples. Something about his demeanor struck her as strange. In this party, she had not met a single person who seemed less than absolutely self-assured. The man in front of her though looked withdrawn, his posture subtly folded inward and his expression tired and worn. He had probably been handsome once, but his aristocratic features were worn by wrinkles and a handful of fading scars that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Ling Qi did not recognize him from her briefings with Cai Renxiang, but his white silk robes looked to be of incredibly high quality to them, she noted nervously. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she bowed low and formally. “My deepest apologies, Honored Sir. I hope that my clumsiness has not troubled you overmuch.”

There was a beat of silence in which she waited on tenterhooks for his response before she heard a brief dry chuckle. “Raise your head, young lady. It is this old man’s fault for losing himself in thought.”

Ling Qi straightened up, relieved. “Please do not take the blame. It was my lack of attention at fault.”

He shook his head slightly, and for a moment, Ling Qi found her eyes sliding past and away from him, leaving her wondering just what she had been doing and why… He snapped back into focus then, a tired smile tugging at his scarred cheeks. “You understand then,” he said gently. “Think nothing of it.”

“I see,” Ling Qi said hesitantly, processing the implications of an art, or more likely, a domain, like that. “Thank you for your understanding, Sir…?”

“Hou Zhuang, representing the Bai at this gathering,” he replied with the slightest incline of his head.

Ling Qi blinked, her thoughts grinding to a halt as she belatedly noticed the tiny serpentine patterns woven through the hem lining of his robes. Did that mean this was…?

The older man snapped his fingers, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Ah, you would be the Baroness Ling, correct?” At her silent nod, he continued, “Might I ask how Bai Meizhen has fared? I believe she chose to support your liege’s bid in the Outer Sect.”

She had to wonder why he didn’t ask her himself, but she wasn't going to voice a thought like that to him. “Miss Bai is among my lady’s most trusted allies,” she answered diplomatically, pausing as a whisper from Sixiang crossed her thoughts. “She is Lady Cai’s only true peer.”

“I see,” the man said neutrally, his eyes wandering over her shoulder. “It is good that she is representing the family so well.” His words were polite, but Ling Qi thought, just for a moment, that she saw disappointment in his expression.

It was perhaps not the most prudent move, but…

“Miss Bai has prospered greatly this year,” she offered, knowing that someone so far above her in cultivation could not fail to read the familiarity in her words. “I think that she has found her time at the Sect most rewarding.”

She stiffened as the man’s wandering gaze focused on her, and she felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck as if the man was looking through her. “That is good to hear,” Hou Zhuang said a moment later, lifting the uncomfortable sensation. “I believe you have someone seeking your attention though, young lady,” he said gesturing off to the right. “Do not let this old man keep you.”

Ling Qi looked over to see Xiulan trying to get her attention. It seemed it was time. She offered a slightly nervous smile to the older man and another quick bow.

“By your leave, Sir Hou.”He waved her off, turning back to watch the mingling crowd of nobles with a distant expression, and Ling Qi turned away, striding toward where Xiulan waited, her good hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised in question.

Chapter 192-Tournament 2

“Who was that you were speaking to?” Xiulan asked as she came within a polite distance. The other girl had cleaned up well since her match, she had changed into a rather form-fitting gown of crimson silk with black hems and flame patterned golden embroidery and a matching veil. The daring neckline that left her shoulders partially exposed seemed rather tame, now that Ling Qi had seen Duchess Cai’s choice of dress.

Ling Qi repressed the twinge of old jealousy her friend inspired with the ease of practice. “I am fairly certain that that was Bai Meizhen’s father,” she replied, an edge of bewilderment in her voice.

Gu Xiulan blinked, looking perplexed as she glanced over Ling Qi’s shoulder. “Really? I had not thought…” She shook her head, the little ribbons woven into her braided hair swaying with the motion. “Well, regardless, Mother sent me to fetch you. Sir Guo will have a free moment soon.”

“Oh, good,” Ling Qi said, relieved. She had been worried that she might miss her timing by choosing to navigate the party herself. She moved to follow Xiulan as her friend began leading her toward the other side of the pavilion. “How did your match go? I’m afraid I only saw the end.”

“Well enough,” Xiulan proclaimed haughtily. “After I crushed the first few challengers, most of them fled before me until I met with the Chu girl.” She grimaced then, stopping just short of touching her side where Ling Qi had seen her wounded. “Then that execrable little cave dweller struck me from hiding.”

She assumed that Xiulan was referring to Huang Da with that epithet. “I take it you expressed your displeasure?” she asked with a small smile.

“I did,” Xiulan replied, sounding pleased. “Though I was not the one who finished him,” she added grudgingly, her face taking on a more pinched expression behind her veil.

Ling Qi glanced at her friend as they moved through the gathered nobility. “Who did?” she asked, thinking that she already knew given Xiulan’s reaction.

“Fan Yu, of course,” Xiulan answered irritably. “He insisted on sticking to my side,” she grumbled. “I suppose it was entertaining watching him beat that fool unconscious with his bare hands. My fiancé is not without his strengths.”

Xiulan sounded less bitter than usual, but Ling Qi couldn’t be sure if that was due to true feelings or their current environment.

<A little of both, I think,> Sixiang whispered. <Oh, I wish I still had a body…> they mourned, fading back into the background of Ling Qi’s thoughts.

“I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to see it,” Ling Qi said. She had left Huang Da behind in her dust, but she couldn’t say that her antipathy for the boy had disappeared.

“There is a certain pleasure in such things,” the voice of Xiulan’s mother interrupted them, tinkling like bells, as they reached the older woman. Ling Qi’s original estimation of the woman was right. Ai Xiaoli was positively tiny, even standing up. The older woman looked up at them with a serene expression, half-hidden behind a painted silk fan. “The menfolk must prove their value somehow, yes?”

Ling Qi flushed at the implication but bowed respectfully to her friend’s mother. “Lady Ai, thank you very much for your invitation.”

Beside her, Xiulan offered a shallower bow, looking chagrined. “I hope we were not being too casual, Mother,” she said, not raising her eyes.

“Hm, you were within acceptable bounds, dear,” the dainty woman replied, closing her fan with a snap. “It is expected for young ladies to be a bit indiscreet in their gossip,” she continued, glancing toward Ling Qi. “It keeps young men on their best behavior after all.”

“I will take your advice to heart,” Ling Qi said respectfully. She was mostly sure that Xiulan’s mother was having some fun at their expense.

“Be sure that you do,” Ai Xiaoli said airily before beckoning them to follow. “Now come. It would not do to keep Sir Guo waiting.”

It did not take long to reach the rear corner of the tent where the Guo scion himself was holding his court in miniature. As they approached the small gathering, Ling Qi caught her first sight of him.

He didn’t look much older than her, perhaps around the same age as Gu Tai. He was tall with a lanky, athletic build made obvious by the form-fitting sleeveless shirt in the light blue colors of the Guo; the shirt was held closed by onyx clasps that resembled the pincers of a beast, probably a scorpion given the Guo’s ancestor. His pants were of similar make to the ones Sun Liling wore, but they were a light cream shade. He had a fairly handsome face with a rather sharp nose and cheekbones, and he wore his black hair in a single tight braid that fell down to the base of his back, threaded through with gleaming metallic strands.

The Guo scion was flanked by a pair of large men in heavy padded armor, their faces mostly concealed behind fabric wrappings but with alertness in their dark eyes. The young man himself appeared to be chatting animatedly with a third guard, who appeared no different than the others, save for his third realm cultivation. As for the Guo scion himself, it appeared that he was pushing the limits of the third realm himself.

“Oho, welcome, Lady Ai,” Guo Si, the eighth grandson of the current Duke of Golden Fields greeted them as they approached, Xiulan’s mother in the lead. The man he had been conversing with dutifully stepped back, leaving the Guo scion to converse with them alone. “I hope you have found my family’s presentation enjoyable so far!” he said brightly, spreading his arms wide. Guo Si had quite a lot of definition for such a thin guy.

Ai Xiaoli offered a formal bow that was a study in elegance, which Ling Qi quickly followed, along with Xiulan, her cheeks flushing a bit at the feeling of inadequacy that spiked up from watching Xiulan’s mother in motion. “Sir Guo has done amazing work, as always,” the older woman replied demurely. “Truly a credit to the resources of our fine province.”

Ling Qi felt the young man’s gaze brush over her, prickling like the sun on a hot summer day. “You are too kind, Lady Ai. The Gu have provided much to this endeavor as well.”

“Sir Guo gives this one too much credit,” Xiulan’s mother said smoothly. “We wished only to ensure that our province could give the best showing possible.”

“And what a showing it was and is,” Guo Si said cheerfully. “So raise your heads, please. Who are these two young ladies with you?”

As Ling Qi raised her head, she could tell from his tone that he already knew. Letting Lady Ai introduce them was just a formality, albeit an important one. “This is my youngest daughter, Gu Xiulan,” the older woman began. It took effort not to flinch when Ai Xiaoli simply appeared beside her daughter, vanishing from her place in front of them. “As you can see, my husband’s blood burns brightly indeed in her.”

“Very much so,” Guo Si agreed, smiling charmingly at Xiulan and offering a tiny bow of acknowledgement. “Your family has produced yet another beauty, and one of such strength as well. Truly, the house of Gu is blessed,” he continued, a touch of amusement in his voice.

Ling Qi could practically feel the sparks of insecurity flaring up in Xiulan’s aura, but a glance from her mother quelled them. “We are quite proud of our youngest generation. The Gu will be relying upon their talent in the future.”

“And what talent it is,” the Guo scion said, his gaze wandering across her friend’s veiled face. “You gave a fine showing in the arena this day, Miss Gu.”

“Thank you very much, Sir Guo,” Gu Xiulan replied, mimicking her Mother’s demure tones. “I am pleased that you feel that I did not waste your time.”

Nodding in reply, the young man turned his eyes to Ling Qi, who had to hold from swallowing at the spark of intense interest she saw there. “And who might this be?”

“My daughter’s good friend, the Baroness Ling, retainer of the Young Mistress Cai,” Ai Xiaoli said formally. “She requested that I introduce her on behalf of her liege.”

“Indeed?” Guo Si asked neutrally. “I would have happily met with your Lady if she had only asked.”

Ling Qi thought quickly, scraping together a proper response. “I beg that you take no offense, Sir Guo. My Lady’s schedule was made very frantic this morning. In addition, it was this humble vassal’s request to handle the meetings with the Golden Fields.”

Ling Qi held her breath as the young man studied her, his expression neutral. Then, his expression broke into a rueful grin. “I understand, Baroness Ling. Why, with the Bai’s heir, the Twin Admirals of the Xuan, and even that Butcher King in attendance, I feel quite small indeed!” He laughed, but there was a gleam of something else in his eyes that passed too quickly for her to read, even with Sixiang’s help. “I am somewhat surprised that Her Highness did not decide to drop by at this point.”

Ling Qi dutifully laughed at his joke, along with Xiulan and her mother. “I am certain that Lady Cai would make the time to meet with you if you wished it, Sir Guo,” she said after an appropriate moment. “Of course, I do not mean to impose. I merely act as my Lady’s eyes and ears.”

“I suppose you do make quite the herald,” the Guo scion said with a chuckle. “The cold night that comes before her brilliant dawn,” he mused poetically. “Very well. By all means, inform the resplendent Lady Cai that this humble young master would be honored to take tea with her before the week is out.”

Sixiang let out a snort of laughter in her head, almost causing Ling Qi’s eye to twitch as the spirit’s thoughts filtered into her own, helping her assemble the pieces. His interest, that flash of jealous irritation, those flowery and almost improperly humble words…

Letting none of her thoughts appear on her face, Ling Qi smiled demurely and bowed her head. “I would be honored to pass your message, Sir Guo. My Lady will be honored as well, I am sure.”

“I shall look forward to her answer then,” the Guo scion said amicably, turning his gaze back to Ai Xiaoli. “So, Lady Ai, I must ask, just where did you find such a supply of Sparkling Onyx Pomegranate…”

Ling Qi allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief as things turned toward small talk, allowing her to relax a hair, and considered just how to go about breaking the news to Cai Renxiang that Guo Si was a little smitten with her.

There was worse news she could deliver.

***

“You say that you believe Guo Si wishes to court me?” Cai Renxiang asked, sounding faintly bemused as she leaned back into the padded chair behind her desk.

“That was the impression I received,” Ling Qi replied, sinking into her own seat in her liege’s office. In the aftermath of the festivities, she had come here on the other girl’s request, so that they could discuss things before the tournament proper began in the morning. “Sixiang agrees,” she added, drawing a snicker from the spirit in her head despite the presence of the Cai.

“I will pen a reply before I retire then,” Cai Renxiang noted. “We have never interacted before. What a strange thing. Useful, but strange.”

Ling Qi let out a quiet hum of agreement. “I hope I did not overstep my bounds by telling him you would agree,” she said cautiously. “I know this kind of thing can be uncomfortable.” Although they had parted on good terms, she knew that she had felt pressured and a bit unhappy with the whole Gu Tai business at first.

“No, I would not give offense by refusing such an invitation. You were correct,” Cai Renxiang replied. “It is simply something I will have to keep in my thoughts when we speak later. Physical attraction is a useful lever.”

Ling Qi kept herself from grimacing. She had forgotten who she was talking to. “Do you think it will go anywhere?”

“His advances, you mean?” the younger Cai clarified. “It is unlikely, I think. I do not believe Mother would find such a match favorable. While trade from Golden Fields is valuable, their power is too tied up in fighting the very land in which they live. If I must speculate, I imagine that Mother will arrange something with a man from one of the ducal houses of the core provinces in the coming decade.”

“Not angling for a prince?” Ling Qi asked dryly. The other girl really didn’t think anything of this kind of arrangement, did she?

“The youngest living prince is a century my senior and married besides,” Cai Renxiang denied. “I’ll need to educate you on the state of the Imperial family soon. Mother might arrange something with one of the sons or grandsons of a prince or princess though.”

Ling Qi had been joking, but she should have expected an answer like that. “Well, leaving that aside, I do not have anything else of significance to report.”

“Very good,” her liege replied with a nod, lacing her fingers together atop her desk. “I trust you recall what needs to be done in regards to your own propositions?”

Ling Qi sighed. “I will finish writing up the deferrals tonight.”

“Good. You are wise to put off such choices. Your value will only increase in the coming years. I would suggest keeping the lines of dialogue open with the Bao however. It is clear that they wish to tie themselves closer to the Cai.”

At least her talent gave her some breathing room when it came to matters of marriage and political ties, since her title could still change relatively quickly based on her cultivation achievements. “Did anything of interest happen on your end?”

“I believe I have made a good impression upon Bai Suzhen and the brothers Xuan,” Cai Renxiang said with a touch of satisfaction. “Our current troubles have been mitigated by our own performances for the moment. I have learned that Bai Suzhen will be taking her father’s seat as the Head of the Bai clan in the near future, allowing him to fill the position of Patriarch. I suspect the Bai’s politics will be shifting somewhat as a result.”

Maybe she should ask Meizhen about her aunt the next time she got a chance then. “That’s all a little over my head. Hopefully, that goes well for them.”

“Indeed,” Cai agreed. “In any case, we should discuss the tournament.”

“What should I expect tomorrow?” Ling Qi asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“The tournament will begin with an exhibition between elders,” Cai explained. “The stated purpose is to encourage disciples by allowing them to view what they might aspire to, but it is also a show of strength for the Sect. Following this, the brackets will be displayed, and we will know our opponents, as well as the terrain our battles will be assigned to.”

“Will the matches be fought four at a time again?” Ling Qi asked before correcting herself, “No, I suppose that would make the tournament end too quickly.”

“Correct,” the other girl agreed. “Disciples will be given one quarter hour to prepare themselves and plan, and then the matches will proceed one at a time in sequence. When the first round is complete, we will break until the following day.”

Ling Qi frowned. That prep time would probably work against her. She didn’t really have a sideboard of secondary arts to attune in preparation for specific opponents. “What do I do if I am paired with you?” she asked. There were other worrying match ups, but that was the one that concerned her the most.

“That will not happen tomorrow. It would be a blatant insult to the Cai. If it occurs in a later round though…” She paused. “I will give you the opportunity to display your talents. I cannot afford to display certain abilities before the final rounds however,” she said bluntly, meeting Ling Qi’s eyes.

Ling Qi nodded. It would sting to willingly lose, but Ling Qi was well practiced with casting aside pride. Such a thing would be a minor issue at most. “Alright.Was there anything else?”

Her liege shook her head. “No, I believe we are finished. Rest well, Ling Qi.”

“You as well, Lady Cai,” she replied, rising from her seat to bow. “I will see you in the morning.”

Interlude: Sun Liling

In a harshly lit garden of tall yellow flowers at the center of the verdant compound which belonged to the Sun family, the heir of Sun Shao scowled at her reflection in the pond.

She hated mirrors.

These meditative ponds were supposed to help with reflection, but all they ever did was irritate her. Her reflection scowled back at her from the pond, and looking at its soft, feminine features twisting into that ugly expression just made her mood worse. Snorting, Sun Liling turned away and closed her eyes, letting out a breath in accordance with her art of cultivation, allowing a trickle of energy to cycle through her Ajna chakra and calm her emotions.

It was so damned annoying how useless these Easterners were. Things had been going well enough at first. She had asked, and Grandpa had agreed, to lean on the Sect for favorable preliminary brackets. She was never going to let Lu Feng live down getting jumped like that, but at least Cai’s right hand and acknowledged retainer had been publicly eliminated in front of the Emerald Seas nobility in an Emerald Seas tournament.

Grandpa had advised her that it would be better if the boy had his squad of enforcers with him, and upon thought, she had agreed. Gan Guangli losing a one versus two peer fight was expected, and Cai could probably spin it well if he had put up a good fight in his defeat. Gan Guangli losing with his squad when he outnumbered her representatives and had held himself out as a commander-type cultivator … That was another matter entirely.

Those useless twits who had been up against Ling Qi though! She hadn’t expected them to win. She had only really expected them to wound and embarrass the girl, but they couldn’t even manage that. Instead, the girl had waltzed through the preliminary and spent the time having a flashy, if ineffective, battle against another third realm one stage higher. As it was, that Cai witch wasn’t looking half as bad as she had wanted.

Sun Liling cursed her own poor judgement. Looking back, if she had just spent a bit of effort being friendly, she was sure that the lonely commoner she had met that first day of the Sect would have latched on to her as strongly as she had done so to the Bai. And even if she had rebuffed the girl, she could have stayed on the council and politically isolated the snake, rather than allow Cai and Bai to form a working relationship, much less the regular tea parties she had heard of. While neither were decision makers in their respective clans, who knew what could come out of Sect friendships formed before cultivators got set in their Ways.

Letting out a breath, Sun Liling opened her eyes. There was no use in stewing on past mistakes. From what she could feel approaching, she had much more important concerns. As the door at the edge of the garden opened, a genuine smile bloomed across her face as she sprang over the pond, running toward the man who had just entered the room.

Her great-grandfather caught her easily as she embraced him, not rocking back even a step. Right here, with his beard tickling her cheek and his heavily calloused hand resting affectionately on her head, she could forget the troubles and humiliations of the past year. Even if his true body was back in the capital of the Western Territories, it still felt the same. This was the one place in all the world where she was utterly safe and could allow herself a little weakness.

“Grandpa, I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, her voice muffled by the thick red fabric of his robe.

“Likewise, my little warrior,” the elder cultivator replied quietly, his deep voice softened by affection. Though she wasn’t looking at his face, Sun Liling knew that the dark crimson eyes and stern, craggy features which sent courtiers and soldiers alike scurrying would be lit by love that belonged only to her.

For a moment, they stayed like that, content under the harsh light of the false sun that lit the garden, before Sun Liling reluctantly stepped back and bowed her head to her great-grandfather. As wonderful as it was to see him again, she couldn’t put this off.

“Great-Grandfather, I must apologize. Your unworthy great-granddaughter has failed to live up to the name of Sun,” she said. The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Even if she knew he would be understanding, it only made it worse. Grandpa doted upon her, and she failed to bring him glory.

She heard him sigh, his wide shoulders rising and falling, and he raised a hand to stroke strands of the wide white beard which hung over his chest. “I will not blame you overmuch for the impetuousness of youth,” he said, his rumbling voice serious, “for that is the purpose of the Sect. Have you learned your lessons in this?”

“I have, Great-Grandfather,” Sun Liling replied, not yet raising her head. “I relied too much upon direct force and neglected my preparations and intelligence. My timing was too impulsive.”

“Then raise your head,” Sun Shao directed. “It is my failure as well. I neglected your education in strategy in favor of tactics and combat. I did not expect your time in the Sect to require such things.”

“The Cai heiress is no easy enemy,” Sun Liling agreed bitterly, “for all that she is the lesser in a fight.” It was only that Cai gown which even gave that girl a chance of standing up to her in a fight.

“Do not lose sight of the real enemy, Liling,” Sun Shao warned. “We have no true quarrel with the Cai, despite her daughter's distasteful choice in allies. It is the Bai girl whom you must focus your efforts on. Everything else is but a minor game.”

“Of course, Great-Grandfather,” Sun Liling replied, lowering her eyes. She knew that the Sun could absolutely not afford to look weak in the face of the increasingly resurgent Bai. While the Imperial throne was still against them, the will to continue antagonizing the ancient clan was growing weaker by the year.

“As long as you understand,” Sun Shao said gravely. He stepped forward to once again rest his hand on her head. “Family is everything,” he said quietly.

“Everything for family,” she repeated back formally.

The older man let out a chuckle. “Enough of this. You have mastered the Scarlet Devil Raiment and begun the Sanguine Ashura Armament, have you not? I think it is time that your old Grandpa showed you a new trick or two for the elimination rounds.”

A grin lit Sun Liling’s face, and she followed Grandpa deeper into the garden.

Chapter 193-Tournament 3

Standing under the bright morning sun, Ling Qi could not help the restless nerves that made her want to shift from foot to foot rather than remaining perfectly still, lined up between the other winners of the preliminaries. The weight of the crowd’s collective auras tingled at the edge of her senses and weighed down on her shoulders still, but after last night, it was easier to endure. A surreptitious glance to either side showed her fellow competitors all standing at the same attention.

Cai Renxiang stood to her right, looking as stoic as ever. On her left stood Gu Xiulan, whose eyes burned with a fierce ambition and confidence as she gazed up at the stages and the Head of the Sect. Breathing in, Ling Qi focused her attention ahead as the Sect Head began to speak.

“Welcome, all, to our second day of competition,” the old man announced, his ancient voice carrying easily through the stadium. He faced away from them, leaving her with only the sight of his billowing white cloak with the characters for “silver” and “wholeness” splashed across it. “Yesterday, you were witness to the winnowing of the Outer Sect down to the core of its most talented, but today, we will begin the true testing,” he continued. “Though unity is the strength of the Empire, each link in a chain must be forged to utmost strength, else the entire length be shattered. Today, our youth will display the strength that will carry the Empire into the future!”

It was hard not to feel at least a little swell of pride as the Sect Head spoke. Just one year ago, Ling Qi had been a helpless mortal, and now, she stood here listening to one of the heroes of the Empire praising her, if indirectly. Later, she could worry about politics. Today, she just had to show the results of her cultivation.

“Before we begin the tournament proper however,” Yuan He continued, and from the motion of his arm, she could tell that he was running his fingers through his beard, “we have the exhibition. In a normal year, a pair of our own elders would take the stage for a demonstration to encourage our disciples with a taste of what they might one day achieve.” Ling Qi had been somewhat curious if Elder Jiao would be one of the ones participating. The Sect Head made it sound like something was changing though. Were the Elders busy?

“This year, however, a special arrangement has been made. In deference to the many august personages present, our most resplendent and honored Duchess has deigned to grace us with her performance, and the honorable and most redoubtable Lady Bai Suzhen has volunteered as her opponent.”

Ling Qi blinked, bewildered, as a susurrus of murmuring and noise began to wash over them from the stands. She glanced at Cai Renxiang but found the girl’s expression pinched in the tiniest of frowns. The Cai heiress hadn’t been expecting this either.

The Sect Head rapped his cane against the air beneath his feet, the resulting boom of thunder silencing the noise as he began to sink down through air until he stood at the edge of one of the four stages. “I will undertake the duty of containing the clash to the stage, and our own venerable Elder Jiao will see to the maintenance of the arena,” he announced.

Ling Qi saw a flicker of shadow on the far side of the arena, and there stood Elder Jiao, his expression set in a frown of passive irritation. As she watched, he raised his hands, placing them upon one of the four corner pillars. “Disciples, pay your utmost attention. It is a rare day when one is allowed to witness the peak of cultivation.” Ling Qi straightened her shoulders as the Sect Head spoke, glancing back over his shoulder at them. “I cordially invite our honored guests to take the stage.”

In an instant, the empty arena was occupied. There was no flash, no burst of wind or sound, only perhaps a tiny pop of displaced air as two figures appeared between one instant and the next, facing each other in the arena. Ling Qi shuddered as that same oppressive aura from yesterday slammed down onto her shoulders, but without it, she might have hardly recognized her liege’s mother.

Cai Shenhua’s appearance had almost changed entirely from her appearance yesterday. Where before she had worn a clinging, form-fitting gown of scandalous cut, she now wore an elaborate dress to match anything Ling Qi had seen at the Golden Fields’ party last night. The tall woman was swathed in multiple layers of white and pale rose silk with wide billowing sleeves and a meter-long train of fluttering silk and lace at her feet. Her dark hair hung down to her feet in four braided streamers like black silk, fluttering behind her in a phantom wind that kept any part of her from touching the ground.

The other woman on the stage was much more austere in appearance. Bai Suzhen looked much like her niece in the structure of her face. Her chin was perhaps a bit sharper, and her lips a bit thinner, but it would be easy, if she did not know already, to wonder if the woman was Meizhen’s mother. Her white hair was shot through with streaks of steely color as if her hair were truly strands of metal and was woven through an elaborate headdress which rose above the back of the woman’s head like a fan of jade knives.

“I thank the both of you for your gracious acceptance of my little impulse,” Cai Shenhua said, her rich voice light. In her right hand, she casually held a silk fan, half-concealing her smiling face. “It is so very rare for me to receive the opportunity for exercise.”

“It is my honor, Duchess Cai,” Yuan He said humbly, bowing his snowy head. “I regret only that I could not receive your attack myself.”

“There are few others I would trust to properly contain a match such as this, Sect Head Yuan,” the Duchess replied easily. “Another day, perhaps.”

“The arrangement proposed was satisfactory,” the Bai heir’s cool voice rang out, her expression neutral as she faced the Duchess with her hands hidden in the wide aquamarine sleeves of her simple but luxuriously layered gown. “It will be an honor to face the strike of a cultivator of such skill.”

“And I will be honored to test the defenses of the legendary Bai clan,” Cai Shenhua replied evenly, a slight smile still playing across her lips. “If you and your subordinate would prepare…?”

Ling Qi felt a tingling feeling of worry begin to bloom in her chest. Something far above her head was being set in motion here. She wished she could see Meizhen’s face right now. Perhaps she was aware of what was going on. A glance at her own liege revealed only hints of worried realization.

Sect Head Yuan cleared his throat then, raising his free hand toward the stage as he did. “The exhibition round will continue until the first drawing of blood. Begin!”

Ling Qi had no more time to think then. The fan in Cai Shenhua’s hand snapped shut, and the world vanished.

She floated bodiless in the face of a wall of whirling dust and wind that stretched out beyond her sight in all directions, endless in its churning fury and yet utterly silent and controlled. Yet for all its awe-inspiring size, she could barely pay it any mind. Above her head floated an incomprehensibly vast mountain of white metal. No, a mountain wasn’t quite right. It was a city.

A many tiered city of unfathomable beauty, its every angle was utterly perfect. Figures clad in white thronged in its streets, moving in an incomprehensible yet somehow perfectly ordered dance, stirring faint memories of warm water and immaculate hands working the stress from tired muscles and the filth from clogged meridians.

At the very peak of the city, where the lord’s palace would usually be, was a woman’s face sculpted from the same colorless metal that made up the rest of the city. The face was relaxed, her eyes closed in repose and her lips slightly parted, and with each instant that passed, ethereal threads emerged like breath, scattering outward to settle over the city like rain. It was nearly impossible to tear her eyes away from the city, and Ling Qi found her heart filled with a deep longing. How heavenly it would be to live in those streets, perfect in form and purpose.

Only the churning of another presence dragged her eyes away from the dreamlike city. Far below, in the mountain-city’s shadow, there was a lake stretching beyond sight, its surface mirror smooth and dark, a shade of blue that was nearly black. The only interruption in its smooth surface came from an island in its center. It was no natural thing though. Emerging from the lapping waters, a monolith composed of scattered bone and melted steel rose, sharp-edged and pitiless. The edges of countless weapons bristled outward, menacing and sharp, their edges seeming to slash at her very eyes even from this distance, and amid the fused remains of blade and armor, nestled in crevices and impaled upon blades, were human and beastial skulls. They formed the only spots of color upon the menacing cliffs, and from their empty eye sockets dropped tears of poisonous black tar. At the narrow top of the mountainous island was a flat plain ringed by bristling blades, and at its center was a rippling pool of clear blue waters in which sinuous white shapes swam and coiled about one another.

For a moment, there was stillness as the city floated, serene above the lake, but then Ling Qi found her gaze dragged upward at the sound of well oiled machinery shifting. Her eyes widened as she once again beheld the resplendent city and noticed what sat upon its walls.

One hundred thousand siege engines opened fire, and it was as if the very stars were falling from the heavens. Beneath, the surface of the lake boiled violently, steam rising from the heat of falling streamers of colorless light. But the roiling waters could not be wholly traced to the action above. From white-capped waters, a single gleaming shard of metal shot upward, too fast to be seen as more than a flash, and then another followed, and another after that.

From the black lake poured blades of every shape and make, filling the sky as surely as the falling light with gleaming edges that screamed for blood. A million blades and more all howled through the sky to explode against the incoming barrage. When they met, Ling Qi was blinded and deafened by the blast of their explosive impact. By the time she had blinked the stars from her eyes, the sky was clear save for a handful of silver comets streaking upward toward the gleaming city, the very light it had disgorged rising back to strike at its maker only to disintegrate into twinkling lights as they impacted the shimmering threads which surrounded the city.

Twice more did the city and the lake exchange fire, their projectiles no longer meeting head-on but spiralling and twisting through the air at impossible angles, clashing in the sky as they sought holes in their opponent’s defenses. Despite the dizzying array of projectiles screaming through the sky, the city and the island both remained utterly pristine.

Ling Qi felt the pressure on her shoulders redouble then as the eyes of the face at the peak of the city opened by just the slightest crack. Twin crescents of liquid starlight lashed out, boiling the very air in their passage as they slammed down into the dark waters and carved an explosive rift of steam down to the very bed of the endless lake, exposing bone white earth as it ripped through the waters toward the central island.

Just before the lashing lines of colorless light could reach the central island, the waters roiled, and from their depths emerged a serpentine tail, mammoth in scope, its scales forged of steel and adamant. It swung through the air with impossible swiftness for such titanic size, slamming against the incoming beams with thunderous force. Metal scales glowed white hot at the point of impact, weeping droplets of molten steel into the hissing, white-capped waters below.

But the deflection succeeded, parrying the line of destruction back into the endless black waters…

Ling Qi blinked then, almost losing her balance as the world once again changed. She found herself back where she had been, standing before the arenas of the tournament ground. It was obvious that she was not the only one feeling the disorientation, and those whose cultivation were only in the second realm were the worst off. Han Jian was pale, sweat gleaming on his brow, and one of the other boys who had squeaked through the preliminaries was nearly on his knees.

In the arena, the two combatants had not seemingly moved an inch from their starting position. Yet dozens of rivulets of liquid metal from the slowing melting shards of steel scattered around the arena and the cracked stones at the Duchess’ feet spoke of the battle which had just taken place. Cai Shenhua’s expression was serene as the last flickering vestiges of a curved saber of light faded from her left hand.

Bai Suzhen was a bit worse for the wear. She slowly lowered her right hand, which had been extended, palm outward. Ling Qi glimpsed a deep cut bleeding silver fluid on her hand before it vanished back into her slightly frayed sleeve. More obviously, the twin meter deep furrows of vaporized stone extending diagonally past the Bai heir to the edges of the stage evidenced the deflected attack.

A glance showed Sect Head Yuan and Elder Jiao still standing at the edge of the stage. The Sect Head looked as serene as ever, if somewhat thoughtful, but Elder Jiao’s teeth were grit in frustration and effort. It was strange to see an Elder look genuinely out of breath.

“I see the prowess of the Bai is not exaggerated in the slightest,” Cai Shenhua said then, her voice still light. “What impeccable movements, Lady Bai.”

The elder Bai tipped her head in a very shallow bow, the ornaments in her hair flashing in the morning light as the rivulets of liquid metal scattered across the stage began to flow back toward her feet. “You are too kind, Duchess Cai. The edge of your blade is as ferocious as the tales say,” she said evenly.

“Hoh, it is good to see that I have not lost my touch,” the Duchess said, snapping her fan back open with a twitch of her fingers. “I hope that we might one day have another round when you take your next step.”

“I would be most satisfied with such an arrangement. You honor me with your regard,” Bai Suzhen said as the last gleaming drops of metal vanished beneath the hem of her gown. It was only Ling Qi’s familiarity with Meizhen that allowed her to see the hint of a satisfied smirk playing about the older woman’s lips.

Ling Qi shuddered as she felt a brief pulse of power wash over her, furious and copper scented. It was gone almost before she could perceive it. She was right. Things far over her head were being played out today. She felt a tiny hint of resentment that whatever she did today, it would be overshadowed by the plays of those who stood above her, but letting out a single breath cleared it away. That was just the nature of the world. That was part of why she couldn’t stop climbing.

As the two monstrous cultivators traded the final formalities and returned to the stands, Sect Head Yuan turned to face them. By then, those who had been impaired had already scrambled back into position. “As you can see, disciples, the peak of cultivation is a long climb indeed,” he said, moving his gaze along the line steadily. “Do not be discouraged, but rather, carve that knowledge into your hearts and strive for those heights.” The elderly man’s eyes met hers, and in them, Ling Qi saw the living heart of a storm fit to consume the world.

The moment ended as his gaze continued past her. “Now, let us announce the pairings for this day’s battle. You will have one quarter hour to prepare for your match… and to give our esteemed Elder Jiao time to repair the first arena,” he said with a faintly amused smile before raising his free hand and snapping his fingers.

Lightning crackled in the sky over his head, lines of light and fire carving themselves into the air as they spelled out the tournament brackets.

Chapter 194-Tournament 4

Ling Qi closed her eyes as she considered her options for the fight ahead, shutting out the murmur of the crowd washing over her and the actions of her fellow disciples. She had faced off against Chu Song and her group earlier in the year during one of the factional conflicts between those aligned with the Sun and Cai. It was a fight her side had won, albeit with Bai Meizhen handling the duel against Chu Song.

Chu Song had been a close range fighter; quick on the draw with her usage of wind and mountain arts. Ling Qi had to consider that Chu Song might get the first blow in, and for all that she was tougher in a straight fight than many would suspect due to her Thousand Rings Fortress art, her advantage would be greater in medium to far range. She couldn’t say she was particularly eager to engage in a melee brawl with the heavy-set girl. On the plus side, Ling Qi remembered that she had managed to snare Chu Song within her mist in the last fight. While the girl had probably tried to bolster her spiritual defenses since then, she felt confident that without the realm advantage Chu Song had held previously, any improvements would not be enough.

Ling Qi turned her thoughts further inward to her spirits, who had been remarkably silent since the start of the demonstration.

<Zhengui, are you alright?> she asked, only now noticing the way that he seemed to have shrunk in on himself. When silence was her answer, she turned her thoughts to the feeling in the back of her head, the complex mix of thought and emotion that represented her other spirit. <Sixiang?>

<You’ve got steel nerves, you know?> Sixiang’s voice shook in her thoughts. <...like Grandmother after the Millennium Wine Incident,> they trailed off, muttering something about thieving monkeys.

Understanding quickly clicked in Ling Qi’s thoughts. <They’re gone, Zhengui,> she thought, doing her best to surround the young spirit with feelings of comfort. <It’s alright now. Big Sister promises.>

<Is Big Sister sure?> Zhengui asked, his voice trembling like a child’s after a nightmare.

<I am,> she thought soothingly. <Don’t worry. They weren’t enemies anyway. You’re safe, little brother.>

<...Okay.> Ling Qi felt Zhengui’s presence shifting as if he were poking his head carefully out of his shell. <Are we fighting now, Big Sister?>

<Soon,> she thought. <Do you remember Chu Song?> she asked, thinking of the girl’s face.

<Oh! The mean girl who scared Big Sister when Zhengui was small!> he chirped, recovering from his fear with the speed only a child could manage. <Do you want Zhengui to bite her?>

<Maybe if you get the chance,> Ling Qi thought, a small smile reaching her lips. <Here’s the plan…>

Soon enough, the time for preparations came to an end, and the contestants of the first match were called to the arena. Sun Liling was dressed in her customary boyish clothes of red and black, differing only in the gleaming jade bands that now adorned her wrists, and the intricate golden wire woven through her braid. Her expression was stony, and it would have been difficult for Ling Qi to miss the fury in her eyes.

Her opponent looked unsteady. Hei Boqin was a handsome boy of above average height with an athletic build similar to Han Jian’s, cultivation straining at the edges of the second realm. He could have been attractive, had he not held the look of a man being led to the gallows as he took his place in the arena across from Sun Liling.

“It is my honor to face the Princess of the West,” the fair-haired boy said, offering a low bow as the arena’s formations began to glow and shimmer.

Sun Liling’s expression didn’t change as she rolled her shoulders, loosening up in preparation for the match. “Yeah. It is. Let me give ya my condolences,” she drawled as the stone arena faded and shifted into golden sand dunes around them. “Nothin’ personal.” Her tone was flat and cold.

The boy grimaced and straightened up as the terrain solidified. “As you say, Princess.”

Outside the bubble of altered reality which formed the fighting stage, Sect Head Yuan’s cane rapped once against the stone of the balcony, the resulting clap of thunder signaling the start of the match.

A straight-edged sword sprang immediately to Hei Boqin’s hand as he began to backpedal, a layer of metallic qi washing over his body like armor. A brief distortion of air beside him brought forth an enormous boar, three meters at the shoulder with tusks as long as a man’s arm. The beast’s hide, formed of overlapping plates of burnished bronze, glinted in the bright desert light, and not a moment had passed before its mighty legs launched it into a full charge down the slope of the dune towards their opponent.

As the beast bore down upon her, Sun Liling simply… stood there, posture utterly, contemptuously relaxed. Cloven hooves thundered against sand, kicking up plumes of dust in their wake, vicious tusks glinting with the promise of violence. Still, she did not move.

In the span of an instant, she was gone.

The boar did not have the time to acknowledge the absence of its target. Only a crater of hardened sand and muffled boom remained of the Princess. As it charged through that empty space, a slipper-clad foot touched down upon its back, and Sun Liling launched herself towards its master. A terrible rent opened in the boar’s plated hide in the wake of her passage. A trailing ribbon of crimson flowed upwards, coalescing into that familiar barbed spear as she rocketed through the air over the dune.

Behind her, the boar let out a piteous squeal of agony as one wound became six, five sharp stakes of wood erupting from the sands into its underbelly. They drove it upwards off the ground, legs flailing frantically, uselessly against air and bark. The momentum of its own charge had skewered it so thoroughly that no escape could be had.

From the darkened sand beneath emerged Dharitri, immaculate and smiling beatifically as blood poured down her outstretched arm. It was the terminus of the stakes, lovely flesh transforming into a claw of jagged wood. Sun Liling’s spirit looked much the same as the last time Ling Qi had seen her in that fight that had kicked off the faction ‘war’ - willowy and tall, with smooth, ochre skin barely covered by scant, red silk scarves. Her eyes closed in contentment as her flesh drank in the dripping blood and sinuous bronze flesh.

Hei Boqin fared no better than his spirit beast. The descending lance of crimson batted aside his guard as if it were nothing more than a paper screen, speartip shattering protective metallic qi like so much glass. In the next instant, twin curved blades pierced his abdomen, wielded by a pair of skeletal arms forged of blood that drove their sharp tips in and through, emerging from his back in twin showers of gore and arterial spray.

Only then did the Sun Princess’ feet again touch sand.

“You yield?” she asked conversationally, looking down at her slumping opponent without any particular emotion.

Hei Boqin coughed violently, blood speckling his lips, and weakly nodded his head. The blades holding him upright dissolved back into the blood from whence they had come, leaving him to slump bonelessly to the sands. Hei Boqin and his spirit beast shimmered, dissolving into a cloud of glowing lights before the false terrain began to fade as well.

She wasn’t going to learn anything about the strongest opponents in the first round. The competition would not be strong enough to push them to reveal any hidden trump cards.

“The winner of the first match is Sun Liling, by right of forfeit,” Sect Head Yuan stated evenly, unaffected by the quick and brutal ending of the match. “Would the young Sirs Han Jian and Shen Hu please proceed to the third arena?”

Ling Qi let out a breath as Sun Liling hopped down from the raised platform of the arena, her armaments already vanishing. The other girl looked up then, and Ling Qi met her eyes. She saw the promise of violence there.

Han Jian and Shen Hu passed the princess by as the red-haired girl took up her place at the far end of the reduced line, and Ling Qi turned her attention to the next match.

In the arena ahead, Han Jian was taking up his place across from Shen Hu. His expression and posture were perfectly neutral, unusual enough for the friendly boy. “I hope we can have a good match,” he said in a polite and even tone as the formations began to flicker around them.

“I suppose,” Shen Hu replied, standing with his arms crossed over his bare chest. “Ah… Sir Han, right?”

“Yes,” Han Jian answered. “If you don’t mind me asking, I haven’t heard of the Shen family…?”

“Our village is pretty far out west,” Shen Hu admitted. “You’re from the eastern desert, right?”

As they spoke, the terrain solidified around them, leaving the two boys standing across from one another in a field of waist-high yellow grass stretching out to the horizon in a flat plain. “That’s right,” Han Jian replied, shaking out his sleeves.

Thunder boomed, and the match began.

Mud boiled out of Shen Hu’s every pore, building him higher and higher until he towered over the tall grass, encased within Lanhua’s muddy bulk. The air shimmered as Heijin sprang forth, golden fur gleaming as he darted out into the field to vanish like a shadow.

Han Jian did not move from his place as his sword appeared in his right hand and dark stripes began to crawl across his skin, matching the tiger striped patterns of his armor. To Ling Qi’s surprise, Han Jian ripped a strip of white silk from his white sleeve with his newly sharpened fingernails. Casting the ragged ribbon into the air, his sword blurred, and the strip of silk was cut into a half dozen scraps of fluttering cloth.

As she felt the surge of qi flood the pieces of his garment, she glanced over at her liege, who met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. She had almost forgotten that Han Jian had received a Cai robe as well.

As Shen Hu’s lumbering form picked up speed in its ungainly charge, the scraps of silk expanded, rapidly growing to the size of grown men in height. They were simple things, a child’s paper dolls writ large, but the blade-shaped edges of their limbs gleamed with a metallic sharpness.

Shen Hu’s momentum could not be so easily stopped. Encased in mud, the only part of him visible was the pale face set in Lanhua’s ‘chest’, he crashed through the line of constructs, trampling one underfoot and scattering the others. Black crystal claws emerged from the bubbling mud at the end of Lanhua’s massive club-like arms.

Han Jian fell back in the wake of his charge and began to raise his sword, only to falter, his shout dying in his throat as his eyelids drooped. There was a flash, and Ling Qi noticed the understated gold stud in her friend’s ear as it glowed with heated qi. Han Jian’s eyes snapped back open, but that moment of lethargy had cost him precious time. He could do little but raise his sword in a partial block as the mud beast’s fist slammed into his breastplate.

As Han Jian flew backward from the force of the blow, Shen Hu’s spirit beast staggered, mud and muck spraying from its back when four-meter long gashes appeared in its lumpy flank courtesy of Heijin, who was vanishing back into the waving grass. While Shen Hu remained off-balance, the five remaining constructs converged on him in unison, their paper-thin limbs lashing out while streamers of heat began to rise from them, distorting the air.

Ling Qi glanced over to see that Han Jian had landed on his feet, his expression set in a grimace as he raised his sword, the same heat pouring off of his own body. Yet the lumbering mud beast merely shook itself like a dog shedding water, its malleable body warping to avoid the slashing blade limbs of the constructs even as the gashes left by Heijin closed with a sucking sound of a boot caught in wet muck.

A black blur lashed out from the spirit’s chest, diamond claws reducing the head of a construct to tattered scraps of silk, and muddy limbs flattened and sharpened as Lanhua’s entire upper torso rotated with sudden and explosive motion, breaking and flinging away the tattered remains of the constructs surrounding it.

Ling Qi saw Han Jian stumble again, the sword nearly dropping from his hand, only for his earring to flash again, albeit dimmer this time. The moment he recovered, Han Jian swept his sword through the dirt in one smooth motion, the wake of the blade ripping dirt and dust from the ground to form a howling wall of whirling debris.

A move to buy time and recover, she thought.

The mud beast’s rumbling charge would not give him that time. It burst through the barrier hardly any worse for the wear, bearing down once more on the backpedaling Han Jian. As the massive, club-like arms rose to strike him down, the very air trembled with the force of the roar unleashed by Heijin as he pounced upon the mud beast’s back. Muck and reeds were blown away, Lanhua’s back cratering inward from the thunderous sound, and Shen Hu was sent flying as well to tumble through the grass, separated from his spirit.

As Shen Hu staggered back to his feet, disoriented, and Lanhua wobbled, pulling herself back together, Heijin leapt towards longer grasses, intending to hide and repeat once more the ambushes that had been so effective. It was not to be. The young tiger’s limbs went limp in the midst of his jump, leaving him to crash into the ground in an ungainly sprawl. Han Jian had tried to capitalize on his opponent’s opening but found his blade trapped by a stone-encrusted forearm. Ling Qi winced as Shen Hu’s other hand lashed out, sending up a spray of blood as diamond claws punched through steel and cloth alike.

Heijin was doing little better than Han Jian. As he struggled back his feet, golden fur now covered in muck and dust, Lanhua was upon him. Literally. Abandoning all semblance of humanoid form, the muck beast crashed down over the young tiger in a wave of damp earth, engulfing him and dragging him further away from Han Jian. The tiger struggled. Mud bubbled and burst as blades of wind and bursts of sound erupted from the roiling pool of mud, the feline’s furious struggles impotent for the moment.

Lanhua didn’t need to hold the tiger long after all, Ling Qi thought. Han Jian fought with desperate skill, his sword a blurring arc of silver, sending up sparks as he parried and avoided blows from Shen Hu’s stone talons. Ling Qi could see that it was hopeless though. For every strike avoided, another slipped through Han Jian’s guard, sending up embers of dusty gold qi where they would have carved into flesh, and against Shen Hu, every slashing trail of searing wind and every burst of stinging grit washed off his armor.

The outcome wasn’t really in question. Shen Hu was a realm and two stages higher than Han Jian. He seemed hardly winded by the fight while Han Jian’s expression was tight with strain, forehead gleaming with sweat. No matter how valiantly he struggled, eventually the end would come. The final mistake was a poor block made at an awkward angle, the force of the blow tearing the sword from his hand and casting it into the long grass beyond Han Jian’s reach. Without hesitation, a crystal-studded palm slammed into his forehead, shattering the gutted remains of the tiger-stripped boy’s aura.

It was over.

“The winner of the second match is Shen Hu, by right of knockout,” Sect Head Yuan said as Han Jian flew back from the force of the blow, falling to the dusty ground and failing to rise. The silence of the moment was shattered by a furious yowl from Heijin, but even that faded an instant later as the losing competitors vanished into twinkling lights, leaving only Shen Hu and his own spirits in the arena.

The sounds of the crowd were far more muted this time.

Chapter 195-Tournament 5

“Miss Ling, Miss Chu, proceed to the second arena.” Ling Qi started as she heard the Sect Head speak her name, but quickly straightened her shoulders and stepped out of the line of competitors, along with Chu Song.

Ling Qi shared a look with the other girl, who was now only slightly taller than her, and found her opponent’s expression cold, which was hardly unexpected. The other girl had not been fond of the Cai when last they had met, and Ling Qi was now a direct retainer to the clan’s heiress. As they stepped into the arena, pacing to the far ends, she saw the older girl take a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her hands.

“I see you didn’t give my words the slightest bit of regard,” Chu Song said as the gemstones set into the arena’s pillars began to glimmer. “I can’t say that’s unexpected.”

Ling Qi made a noncommittal sound, idly tapping her foot to the beat of the tune Sixiang was humming now in the back of her head. She would have to ask the spirit what it was called later. It would be rude to ignore her opponent, she supposed, but she had to remain conscious of the fact that what she said would be heard by any who cared to hear.

“I’ve studied some history since that time at the vent,” she started.

The muscular girl raised an eyebrow. “And what does that have to do with anything?” her expression darkened a moment later. “You gonna say we deserved it for failing to hold back Ogodei?”

Ling Qi shook her head, her braided hair swaying with the motion. “No, it’s just… Things don’t really change, you know?” She didn’t think about things like this often, but the difficulty of true change was often in the back of her thoughts as she learned more about the past. “Yesterday, a million people were crushed by the world’s unfairness, and today, it will be the same for a million more.”

“Didn’t take you for the philosophizing sort,” Chu Song snorted as the shapes of trees began to take form around them and the distance between their positions began to stretch. “What’s your point?”

“No matter how peerless my honored ruler’s might is, she didn’t change that,” Ling Qi replied. “You aren’t special for suffering. After all, even with all your misfortune, there are countless people who would sacrifice everything to be in your position.” What person living in the gutters would not kill for the chance to join even the least of cultivators?

Chu Song sneered. “Sounds like you’re making excuses. Lil’ self-serving, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ling Qi agreed. “I guess I just don’t really care about the fading ghosts of clans a hundred years dead.”

Ling Qi felt a little bad as her opponent’s expression twisted into fury, but her words had the desired effect. Thunder boomed, rustling the leaves of the trees overhead, and Chu Song launched herself toward Ling Qi, her massive slab of a greatsword appearing in her hands.

The charge was sloppy.

Ling Qi launched herself skyward, darkness pooled in her channels and washed across her skin, her limbs blurred into misty incoherence as she expressed her flute, its silver markings gleamed amidst the shrouded trees. The first melancholy notes of the Forgotten Vale Melody echoed through the once bright summer sky.

Below her, the area where she had stood and the closest trees in every direction were blown away, howling wind carved through wood and dirt alike as an arcing blade of air tore apart the terrain. For Ling Qi, it served only to make her gown rustle in the rising winds.

Ling Qi did not stop there, flying further still into the sky, carried on the dark wings of her gown. Abusing her flight against Chu Song to set up her music in peace was unfair, yes, but expecting fairness in a competition such as this was foolish. She called forth the shadows of hungry spirits to infest her mist, writhing and snatching at the promise of violence. In the dim light, her skin darkened with deep green qi, layering itself like bark as she wrapped herself in the Hundred Rings Armament technique.

Ling Qi almost paused in her playing when she felt a sudden and violent shift in the air all around her. The nearby clouds were torn asunder by the suddenly swirling wind before a whirling, invisible twister slammed into the top of her mist. Ling Qi quickly channeled still more qi through the pulsing lines of vital energy that laced her spine, adding another layer of defense to the rough, barklike aura that enshrouded her.

Wind tore at her hair and gown, howling, screaming, trying to scatter her building melodies to the four corners of the world. Futile. Her music and mist were beyond such things now, lessons learned in the all-consuming embrace of Zeqing’s snowstorm. The serene notes of the Forgotten Vale floated over noise and fury, unperturbed by the tantrum of the winds.

<Are you ready, little brother?> she asked as her mist grew more cloying still with her song seamlessly transitioning into the Starlight Elegy. Below, she could feel Chu Song and her spirit beast, fruitlessly trying to stop her build-up.

<Zhengui will beat up that bear good, Big Sister!> Zhengui exclaimed, eager for his first real battle.

Ling Qi worried. The bear had quite the cultivation advantage over her Zhengui, but she would be nearby, effectively bolstering Zhengui with her mist, hindering their opponents. Ling Qi was confident that Zhengui could at least hold the beast off while she dealt with Chu Song. Her little brother was young, but he was tough indeed.

Ending her ascent, Ling Qi began to dive as she played the first notes of the Traveler’s End, the finale of her performance, the mist becoming completely opaque to mundane sight. At fifty meters up, she expressed Zhengui above the concentration of mountain and metal that could only be Chu Song’s spirit. Her little brother dropped like a stone with an excited woop from both of his heads, and his shell glowing with magmatic heat that distorted the very air around him.

Ling Qi swooped below the treeline and cut off the flow of qi to her gown, turning her flight into a controlled fall. Chu Song awaited her, skin faded to the color of granite and a veritable tornado screaming around her torso-sized blade. A crescent of silver shot toward her from above the girls head and met its match as the girl’s lower quality flying blade clashed against the onyx edge of Ling Qi’s singing blade.

Despite the power Ling Qi sensed in the other girl’s sword, it could not reach her. Chu Song’s eyes glowed with the light of a perception art, but Ling Qi flowed around the path of the first blade of wind launched from Chu’s blade. The second was met with a single, sharp note from her flute, a muffled boom of imploding air resounding through the arena as both attacks shattered. The cloying qi of her mist sept into Chu Song’s channels, clouding her senses and sapping her vitality, but the girl only roared a battle cry and charged forward.

Some distance away, Ling Qi could sense that Zhengui and the great bear were engaging in battle. A massive paw crashed into the smaller tortoise’s shell with a ground-cratering smash, only for the bear to rear back with an irritated roar as superheated ash engulfed its head.

Her enemy’s charge faltered as a pulse of hungry darkness washed over the field and Chu’s flying sword was sent spinning away. In that moment of weakness, Ling Qi spun from the path of the charge with a dancer’s grace, gown flaring out around her legs and pulled back from the melee, careful to keep Zhengui in the embrace of her mist. Not content to merely defend herself while the mist did its work, she sang the Aria of Spring’s End.

The wordless notes of the song caused the temperature to plummet immediately, frost rippling across grass made damp from her mist. This time, when Chu Song spun and slashed at her, Ling Qi fought back directly. Between the techniques of her various arts, qi from all around her streamed back in to refill her reserves.

She did not intend to play fair.

Ling Qi flitted through the mist like a shadow, battering the older girl at the center with bone-chilling cold carried on the notes of a sad, lonely melody and drank deeply from her despair. Always just out of reach of Chu Song’s sword, she led the girl on a merry, hopeless chase. When a wind blade clipped her shoulder, it served only to chip at her recovering qi. When Chu Song tried to link back up with her spirit, crying out his name, Ling Qi buried her deeper still in the mist until the girl could not even perceive her own spirit beast.

Part of Ling Qi delighted at the feeling of power she felt as her opponent's movements grew weaker and more sloppy. She had strived for this. This strength and control. An enemy she could only cower before half a year ago was reduced to stumbling around, lost and at her mercy.

Ling Qi let out a quiet breath as Chu Song’s faltering steps found a tree root, invisible in the mist, and the girl’s stone armor crumbled under the eager claws of the mist phantoms. There was no need to be cruel. It was time to end this.

<Done already?> Sixiang questioned as Chu Song glared out impotently into the mist. <You seemed like you were having fun.>

<There’s no point in drawing this out unnecessarily,> Ling Qi thought back. From the noise, Zhengui and the bear, Yan, were still fighting. They were at a stalemate. With his cultivation disadvantage, Zhengui could not hurt the other spirit easily, but weakened by her mist, the reverse was also true, if less so, and Zhengui recovered far more easily.

“Do you yield?” Ling Qi asked, her voice echoing from everywhere within the mist.

“Go to hell,” Chu Song spat, her teeth chattering from the cold.

Ling Qi sighed. “Then don’t complain,” she warned before raising her voice in song again.

The older girl crashed to the ground, covered in frost, her qi extinguished.

Ling Qi let out a deep breath as the trees and her enemy began to fade along with her mist. Zhengui trotted back to her side. His shell was chipped, and Zhen was bleeding, superheated white fluid dripping to sizzle on the stage, scales torn from his snout in a bloody line, but even now, she could see new ash-grey scales sprouting.

“Are you alright, little brother?” she asked lightly.

“Zhen’s face itches,” the young serpent grumbled. “But it is nothing!” the proud half of her little spirit declared.

“Gui kept the bear from bothering Big Sister!” his other half chirped.

“What a good little brother you are,” Ling Qi praised. “Return now though. We need to make room for the next fight.”

As Zhengui dissolved with an agreeable chirp, Ling Qi regained her sight of the tournament grounds, meeting the Sect Head’s eyes.

“The winner of the third match is Ling Qi, by right of knockout,” he announced as the last vestiges of the formation-generated terrain faded.

Ling Qi smiled and stepped down from the stage. Despite her victory, she couldn’t rest easy. She still had to progress as far as she could in this tournament to show off her strength. With a better placement, she’d gain a higher starting rank in the Inner Sect and show that the Cai had made a good choice in supporting her.

Regardless of her final placement, though, she had done it! She had secured her place in the Inner Sect!

Chapter 196-Tournament 6

<Do you think I was too harsh?> Ling Qi wondered as she made her way back to the line of the participating disciples under the bright cheers of the audience. She caught Ji Rong’s eye as they passed one another on the path to the arenas. Perhaps unsurprisingly given his relationship with Chu Song, he was scowling.

<Well, you infuriated her pretty well,> Sixiang noted. <I don’t really get the things you two were talking about though. Is human life really so unpleasant?>

Ling Qi let out a quiet huff as she rejoined the line, returning to her position between Cai Renxiang and Gu Xiulan. <How can you read people so well with so little understanding?> she thought.

Sixiang made a thoughtful sound that echoed oddly inside of her mind. <Dreams and art are born from experience, but they’re expressions of those things, not the feelings themselves. I’ve felt the echoes of your experience in your music, but I can’t really say I understand it.>

<You don’t eat so you’ve never hungered. You don’t feel pain… You don’t even really understand the fear of death,> she mused. She couldn’t imagine what living like that must be like.

<Right,> Sixiang agreed cheerfully. <And the Chu girl… Her pain is secondhand, so I kinda get it. I have memories from Mother and Grandmother after all. But in the end, I’m not her friend.> Ling Qi got the impression of a shrug from the capricious spirit.

<But you share her unease about the Cai,> Ling Qi thought.

<...Yeah,> Sixiang admitted. <Maybe I understand a little more than I thought.>

Ling Qi held in a sigh and turned her attention outward once more. She had been harsh in her wording to Chu, purposefully so, but she hadn’t lied either. Ling Qi had seen her own reflection in the Argent Mirror, and despite her efforts to grow it, she still had little enough room for sympathy in her heart and certainly not for a declared enemy.

In the arena, Ji Rong was facing Han Fang.

“... an ass, but he’s had my back,” Ji Rong said idly, flexing his scarred and calloused hands. “Gonna have to kick your ass for that, you know?”

Han Fang had no verbal reply for obvious reasons, though the bald boy did cock an eyebrow at the threat.

“Tch, forgot. Not gonna get any trash talk from you, am I?” Ji Rong mused as the formations took hold, beginning the transformation of the arena into that of a sheer mountainside cliff.

Han Fang merely smiled, tracing the ugly scar that crossed his throat with one finger.

“Yeah, yeah, I see it,” Ji Rong replied, raising a hand to scratch at the burn scar that stretched across his cheek and neck. “It’s not gonna stop me from breakin’ your jaw again.”

Han Fang shrugged as the arena solidified fully around them, leaving the two boys standing atop a high and misty cliff beside a river that thundered over the edge, drowning out any further speech. The thunderclap that signified the start of the match sounded a bare moment later.

As Ling Qi watched, Ji Rong’s body crackled with heavenly energy, and his limbs dissolved into actinic light. He crossed the distance between himself and Han Fang in the blink of an eye, seeming to almost materialize out of the air with his fist already slamming into the taller boy’s jaw, lifting him from the ground with the force of the blow.

Wind shrieked around Han Fang, and he himself vanished with a thunderous boom before reappearing with a loud crack atop a large boulder set in the center of the river, his hammer now in one hand and a small, glowing pellet in the other. Han Fang flung the pellet at the boulder he stood upon, and a roiling cloud of sand and dust sprang up in its wake.

Ling Qi saw Ji Rong fall into a crouch, his lips moving in speech she couldn’t quite make out over the roar of the waterfall. What she could understand, however, was the intense spike of qi as he pressed two fingers against his forehead and drew forth a crackling orb of blindingly bright energy. It shot from his extended fingers in a searing beam of spiraling energy, striking the cloud. Then, the beam warped, bending at a right angle to shoot to the left and curve around a second boulder on the far side of the river, shattering the cloak of obfuscating qi and sending the previously hidden Han Fang sprawling as the energy drilled through his chest and out of his shoulder, leaving a smoking hole in its wake.

Ji Rong easily avoided the flung hammer that came his way as Han Fang scrambled back to his feet. Ling Qi closed her eyes, and a moment later, her silent prediction came true as the sound of an electrified fist striking flesh reached her ears.

“The winner of the fourth match is Ji Rong, by right of knockout,” Sect Head Yuan announced to the mixed cheers of the audience.

Her own match had been the longest one so far in this first round of elimination duels, Ling Qi noted. She supposed that this was the reason that the Sect had arranged for the crafting competition to take place on the same day; the visitors would probably find this first round rather short.

As the Sect Head called up the next two combatants, Ling Qi could not help but feel a pang of pity for the stocky, dark haired boy who had been matched with Meizhen. Much like Hei Boqin, Wei Jing looked like a man marching to meet the headsman.

While she was well aware of how this match would go, out of courtesy to her friend, she kept her attention focused on the arena rather than any further musing.

Meizhen stood with her arms hanging loose at her sides, seemingly unguarded in posture as she observed her opponent. On the other hand, Ling Qi could see the faint trembling in Wei Jing’s hands as he clasped them in front of his chest and bowed respectfully.

“M-may we have an honorable match, Miss Bai,” he said carefully, keeping his eyes down as the arena wavered and reformed.

To Ling Qi’s surprise, Meizhen actually deigned to respond. “As you say,” she replied coolly, somehow giving the impression of looking down on the older boy despite his greater height. “You are not my enemy, so I will endeavor not to inflict undue pain.”

Her opponent straightened up, looking as if he had bitten into something unpleasant, but he kept his hands together for a moment longer regardless. “This one thanks you for your regard,” he said, swallowing thickly.

The terrain had finished taking shape during the exchange, leaving the two cultivators standing on small isles of dirt protruding from rippling brown waters. The shores were overgrown with rushes and other such plants, and here and there, twisted trees rose from the mist that clung to the ground and water, their branches hanging heavy and low.

The moment that the thunderclap indicating the start of the match sounded, dark waters began to trickle down Meizhen’s back, condensing from the moist air, and Cui’s sinuous emerald coils began to form, coiling around Meizhen’s feet.

At the same time, a long wooden staff capped with bronze formed in the hands of her opponent, and the boy turned, his boots digging deep into the moist earth as he prepared to leap away from his starting island and opponent.

“Running is futile.” Meizhen’s quiet voice rang out like a clear crystal bell, and pale golden fire bloomed in her eyes. That was a sure sign, in Ling Qi’s experience, that Meizhen was putting active effort into her aura of terror. Ling Qi winced in pity as the boy’s limbs stiffened and his eyes bulged out, leaving him to trip and sprawl in the mud, whatever movement technique he had begun to activate guttering out.

Meizhen’s flowing stride carried her out onto the murky waters, her passing leaving only faint ripples as the surface of the water supported her as easily as the ground had, while at her side, Cui slipped silently beneath the muddy surface. As Meizhen’s Abyssal Mantle took on its full shape, her face was shadowed, visible only by the glow of her eyes.

Wei Jing scrambled to his feet, clutching his weapon, and spun to face his approaching doom. He brought the butt of his staff down on the muddy ground with a thump. The earth rumbled and rose, a meter thick barricade of packed earth rising to twice the height of a man in an instant, but then, he screamed as a serpentine head erupted from the waters at his feet, Cui striking in an impossibly fast blur to sink her fangs in through qi, leather, and flesh alike before vanishing back into the waters as quickly as she had appeared.

As his staff dropped from nerveless fingers, she saw Meizhen swipe her hand horizontally through the air in a single, quick motion. In its wake, the waters rose in a sharp wave, carving through the raised wall and allowing her to step gracefully through the muddy rubble to stand a short distance away from her opponent. Wei Jing was struggling to rise off of his knees, but even with his thick pants and boots, Ling Qi could tell that his leg was swollen to a worrying degree, and the blood which wept from the holes left by Cui’s fangs was marked with greenish black flecks.

“Do you yield?” Meizhen asked as she moved to stand over him, her empty hand extended toward his cheek, sparks of poisonous qi dancing around her fingertips.

“I yield,” the boy choked out.

The first round this year was really unfair, Ling Qi thought as the Sect Head announced Meizhen as the winner to a backdrop of cautious approval radiating from the audience. She offered Meizhen a small smile as the girl returned, and the other girl caught her eye for a moment before looking to Cai Renxiang beside her and offering a small nod of her own.

Keeping up appearances could be quite annoying. Ling Qi held back the small sigh that wished to escape her as her friend took up her place on the opposite side of her liege in the rapidly shrinking line.

Ling Qi watched with only minor interest as the next match began. The two participants facing off were Kang Zihao and another of the poor sacrificial second realms. She wasn’t concerned about the other boy as an opponent. Not only was he in the opposite bracket, but he would also be facing off against Bai Meizhen next.

As Ling Qi listened to the two’s dialogue, she realized that Kang was going to be giving the other boy some face. From their conversation, it seemed that the second realm had been one of Kang’s subordinates. Ling Qi couldn’t recall this disciple’s face.

Given her lack of interest in this “fight,” Ling Qi instead turned her attention to Zhengui, who was practically vibrating with happiness at winning his first fight. Praising her little brother for toughing it out against a third realm opponent was more important and more entertaining.

Ling Qi did tune into the match from time to time. The other boy was a spear wielder as well, and Kang Zihao had decided to engage the other boy in a duel of pure spearmanship, showing nothing new. As boring as the match was to her, it looked like the crowd at least enjoyed getting to see a slightly longer match this time. In the end though, the duel reached its obvious outcome, with Kang’s speartip resting against the other boy’s throat.

The next match, on the other hand, Ling Qi intended to give her full attention. As Gu Xiulan’s name was called, she gave her friend an encouraging smile, which the other girl returned with a confident smirk behind her veil. Gu Xiulan marched up the path beside her opponent with her head held high, as haughty and confident as the day Ling Qi had met her. She wore a single layered gown of dark red silk embroidered with flickering flames that clung rather scandalously to her figure. The red glove she had worn since the beginning of the year was gone, replaced with a fine golden gauntlet so well articulated that the plates seemed almost like a second skin.

Wen Ai, on the other hand, kept a more demure expression, her steps flowing gracefully along the path. The girl practically had a whole bouquet of flowers woven into her hair, and the colorful blooms swayed with every step like the dangling ruby earrings worn below. Unlike Xiulan, her gown was a many layered thing, burying the smaller girl in a cloud of floaty silk and lace that seemed quite good at masking the movements of her limbs. Also unlike Xiulan, she was fully in the third realm.

As the two reached the arena and took up their places, both girls bowed politely to one another in almost perfect unison.

“I hope that we may have a good match,” Wen Ai said in her quiet, musical voice.

“That is my hope as well,” Xiulan agreed easily.

“Allow me to offer my condolences for your incomplete breakthrough, Sect Sister,” Wen Ai said. “It must have been a terrible disappointment after your sacrifices.”

Xiulan’s eyes narrowed slightly in the fading light of the changing arena, sparks igniting in her dark brown eyes. “Thank you, Sect Sister,” she said sweetly. “Allow me to congratulate you on your own. A mere two years of effort for such a result is certainly impressive.”

“Thank you for your acknowledgement,” the other girl replied, her voice unstrained as the sky darkened above them, and rough stone replaced the tiled arena under their feet. “I will, of course, endeavor not to worsen your disfigurement in the coming match.”

“I will apologize in advance for any damage you suffer as well, Sect Sister.” Ling Qi recognized the look in Xiulan’s eyes well enough to know exactly what sort of sharp-edged smile hid beneath her veil.

Their arena finished taking shape as the girls fell silent, leaving the two standing on a small rocky isle in the middle of a great expanse of water. White-capped waves rose and dashed themselves against the sheer stony cliffs that made up the isle, and overhead, storm clouds rumbled with unreleased rain.

The starting thunderclap rang out.

Chapter 197-Tournament 7

Xiulan dropped into the fighting stance of her family style and swept her leg out across the damp stone, the hem of her dress flaring up to reveal the knee-high boots she wore beneath. From her lashing limb, a wave of blue-white flames erupted, rushing across the intervening distance toward Wen Ai.

A pair of fans appeared in Wen Ai’s hands and snapped open, exposing the silk webbing on which were painted vistas of floating clouds and clear blue lakes. The cloud-painted fan swept out, and the wind howled, scattering the roaring flames. The shorter girl advanced, dancing gracefully through the falling sparks as her second fan swept around and her form blurred, splitting into three separate images that quickly made distance from one another.

As Xiulan rose back into a guarded stance, embers burning in her braided hair and sparks crackling in her eyes, her hand struck out, two fingers extended. From their tips burst a searing line of near liquid flame no thicker than an inkbrush. The blazing line stabbed into the leftmost image of Wen Ai and passed through, leaving a steaming hole in the construct before it collapsed.

Xiulan was forced to duck, the edge of the rightmost image’s fan cutting through the air where her head had been. She was pushed further as the other girl carried the second fan around, hastily blocking the strike with her new gauntlet, a shower of sparks and clashing qi bursting forth where silk and metal met. The damp air howled, and Xiulan was flung skyward, carried by a rising funnel of wind generated by the spinning dance of the center image.

Ling Qi saw her friend’s expression twist into a snarl as a cutting wind tore off her veil and scored a bloody line across her cheek, similar wounds appearing across the rest of her body. The spider web of scars marring her friend’s face smouldered, and Xiulan’s aura spiked upward in potency. The blood flowing from the cuts strewn across her body caught aflame, and smoke rose from her bandage-swathed arm as she flung her hands outward and let out a loud battlecry.

Ling Qi winced at the explosion of heat and light that followed, forced to close her eyes to keep from being blinded. When she opened them next, Wen Ai was retreating, her wide sleeves scorched and gave off wisps of black smoke that licked at her forearms. Her duplicate images were nowhere to be found. The stone of the isle was glowing cherry red with heat in a wide circle beneath Xiulan’s position, and near the center, rock bubbled and ran like wax. Xiulan herself had been launched higher into the air by the force of her blast. Her once well kept hair was now flying free in a fan behind her head, the fringes aflame. Above her floated a tiny figure made entirely of dancing flames, casting her features in shadow from the flickering, hungry light.

As Wen Ai retreated from the superheated stone and found her ground, soft, rippling light beginning to radiate from her dancing form, Xiulan spun in midair to face her foe, the gauntlet she wore flaring with blazing characters. A whip of deep crimson flame sparked and burst to life in her grasp, nine grasping lashes snapped out.

Wen Ai leapt backward, the air rippled and blurred around her. The first and the second lash went up in smoke as they tried to carve through the damp aura surrounding the girl. The third and the fourth made it through, kicking up sparks as they slashed across the rocks at Wen Ai’s feet, avoided by graceful yet increasingly desperate movements. The fifth and the sixth were parried by spinning fans, knocked aside to coil uselessly in the air, while the seventh and the eighth incinerated a pair of blossoms decorating Wen Ai’s hair. The ninth, though, coiled around Wen Ai’s wrist, and burned through qi to sizzle against exposed flesh.

Ling Qi saw Xiulan grin as her shoulders tensed and she tightened her grip on the fiery whip. The burning fairy above her laughed, a sound like underbrush burning, and threw out her flickering arms at the same time that Xiulan’s whip snapped taut. The faerie released a pulse of burning hot air, and her friend’s weapon shrunk rapidly, pulling her through the air at her foe.

Below, Wen Ai’s eyes were wide with pain, but the older girl grit her teeth, her expression twisted in fury rather than helplessness. Wen Ai raised her free hand, and the air before her began to shimmer with the form of a materializing beast.

It was too late for Xiulan to stop, diving through the air as she was. Her injured arm extended, the crackling plasma of an unreleased Radiant Lance burning between her fingers. Xiulan collided with Wen Ai’s spirit beast, sending up a cloud of smoke and dust.

Ling Qi felt her throat tighten with worry for her friend. Looming between the two girls stood a figure from a fairy tale. A huge blue-skinned hulk of a humanoid clad in only a loincloth of tiger’s skin, its face hideous and ape-like, with protruding tusks and thick brows that cast its eyes in shadow. The thing must have been nearly four meters tall.

Xiulan’s arm was buried up to the elbow in its chest, a burning hole in its lower back marking the exit wound of the Radiant Lance. Ling Qi hoped that the wound would defeat creature, but the beast merely let out an enraged bellow. The sheer force of the sound blew away the remaining dust and smoke in the air and it seized Xiulan and smashed her to the ground.

Ling Qi clenched her fists as she saw blood escape Xiulan’s lips and Wen Ai’s face light up in a vicious smile. Then a screaming comet of fire slammed into the ogre’s hideous face. The ogre let out another bellow, swatting at the buzzing fire now assaulting its eyes, nose, and ears, stumbling back from Xiulan’s prone form.

Xiulan took advantage of the ogre’s distraction to recover, rolling to her feet in a quick motion that belied the unhealthy shifting of bones beneath her skin. She was unbowed, her eyes burned with determination.

Her enemy had not been idle. The older disciple immediately pressed an attack upon her, twin fans slashing through the air and bringing with them gale-like winds and rippling air that twisted perception.

New wounds appeared on her friend - a slash across her right shoulder, a rising knee slamming into her stomach, and a vicious stomp of a dainty heeled shoe likely breaking at least a few toes. Xiulan faced it, reversing her fighting retreat. Her gauntleted hand snapped out to grasp Wen Ai’s wounded wrist.

Xiulan inhaled deeply, unmindful of the creaking from strained and broken ribs, three tongues of flame bursting through the sealing bandages on her ruined arm, and Xiulan exhaled. Flames poured from her lips, blue-bell bright with an incandescent core of white. Wen Ai shrieked in pain as the hungry stream washed over her, ravenously devouring the qi that sought to block their touch.

The burning figure that stumbled away and fell to one knee hardly bore a resemblance to the elegant girl that had entered the ring. The flowers in Wen Ai’s hair had been incinerated, ugly burns stretching across the arm that had been raised to defend her face, and the fanciful gown had been reduced to tatters clinging to a surprisingly practical bodysuit of cloth armor laced with formations.

Xiulan was similarly bent over, taking short, sharp breaths as she tried to recover from the exertion of her previous fire breath. Before she could take advantage of Wen Ai’s disorientation, Wen Ai’s spirit beast stomped over to the girls, having finished catching and smashing Xiulan’s flickering fairy against the ground before stomping hard on the little thing. Ling Qi was glad that the fights took place within Elder Jiao’s formations. She had enough experience to know that the lethality within such arenas was under his control.

Xiulan straightened up, a trickle of sizzling blood leaking from the corner of her mouth as the brute charged her, its swinging fists failing to strike her even in her wounded state. Yet, dangerous as it was, she refused to give the ogre her full attention, having eyes only for her recovering opponent. In the wake of one swing, she slipped under the brute and slashed her own limb through the air. The sky screamed as a bolt of brilliant lighting fell from the heavens to strike at the other girl, even as the beast spun and slammed a foot into her back. The force of the ogre’s kick sent Xiulan tumbling across the rocky ground, stopping just shy of falling into the churning waters around the island.

That did not help his master though. Wen Ai raised her sole remaining fan, and the lighting flared as it met the silken talisman and Wen Ai’s guttering aura. The rippling qi that had shrouded Wen Ai failed. With a sound like shattering glass, the lightning punched through her fan and into her hand, and Wen Ai screamed.

Xiulan struggled back to her feet to face the roaring charge of the spirit beast, but the arena was already fading.

“The winner of the seventh match is Gu Xiulan, by right of knockout,” Sect Head Yuan announced through the cheers of the crowd.

Ling Qi noticed that Xiulan, face triumphant and fist upraised, was fading into the mist of the vanishing formations as well. She supposed that made sense given the extent of Xiulan’s injuries. Ling Qi let out the breath she had been holding. Xiulan had made it through, by the skin of her teeth perhaps, but she couldn’t have been more pleased for her friend.

Ling Qi glanced over, and met Cai Renxiang’s eyes. Her liege was last up. There was hardly any tension in this match though.

Cai Renxiang’s opponent, Shu Hai, had some resemblance to Kang Zihao and Lu Feng. Tall, thin, and handsome, Shu Hai wore polished armor that looked fit for a parade. As they took their places in the arena, Shu Hai bowed low.

“It is an honor, my lady, to face your blade,” he murmured. “To think that I would be able to stand in the same arena as the heir of the one who cast down the accursed Hui.”

Cai Renxiang’s expression remained even as the air began to distort, transforming their surroundings. “The Shu of Xiangmen deserve their honors. Your father has more than earned his position as an officer of the White Plume regiment.”

Shu Hai smiled as a cold and windswept mountain peak formed beneath their feet. “That Your Grace would recall the name of a humble sergeant is all the honor we need. Although… if I may make a request?”

“You may,” Cai Renxiang said. The air around her right hand shimmered, and her sheathed blade appeared.

Shu Hai straightened up, finally meeting her eyes. “This one has no pretensions, so please, allow this soldier to receive the full weight of Your Grace’s blade.”

Ling Qi noticed the subtle way Cai Renxiang’s lips thinned, the faintest show of frustration. “As you wish.”

The starting signal thundered out.

A saber blazed like a colorless sun.

The roar of crumbling rock drowned out the sound of metal rent asunder as the whole of the cliffside gave way.

The match ended.

***

“I will require you to attend me before sunset,” Cai Renxiang said quietly as they left the tournament grounds, the other winning disciples scattering to take up their own business.

“For the Duchess’ gathering, right?” Ling Qi asked, walking just behind her at a careful pace.

“Yes,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “In addition, consider what resources you would like prepared for your coming match tomorrow.”

Ling Qi raised an eyebrow in surprise. “I thought I would not be receiving such assistance.”

Her liege glanced back at Ling Qi. “My wise Mother has chosen not to interfere, but I retain the last of the resources I was granted for my time in the Outer Sect.”

“I see,” Ling Qi replied. “May I ask what sort of budget I should consider?”

“Anything you desire that is available within the Sect markets. Mother has forbidden me from making outside orders,” Cai said. “In any case, the rest of your afternoon is yours to do with as you please.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Lady Cai,” Ling Qi was already considering her current stock of medicines and tools as they split up.

Putting such thoughts in the back of her mind for the moment, Ling Qi made her way toward the central entrance plaza. She had not seen Li Suyin since the beginning of the tournament week, and she was curious to see just how the girl was doing.

Chapter 198-Tournament 8

When she arrived at the main plaza, she found it quite busy, many of the Sect’s visitors drifting toward the main hall at a casual pace, deep in conversation with other visitors. The doors of the hall were thrown open and inside, Ling Qi found the Sect’s attendants and advisors out in full force, providing guidance and service to the visiting parents and relatives. Ling Qi made her way quietly through the crowds, keeping her pace sedate to avoid giving offense to any of the older cultivators present.

A sign laid out on the Sect’s job board pointed her toward the lecture hall in which the judging for the crafting competition would be taking place. Privately, Ling Qi wondered just how so many people were going to fit into one of those rooms and still fit the competitors. She felt a bit foolish for thinking that when she entered and found the room which she had spent so much time in learning the basics from Elder Su utterly transformed.

The lecture hall had been expanded several times over in a way that was impossible given the outer dimensions of the building. The tiered seating where the students had been seated remained, but the plain wooden benches and desks had been replaced with more comfortable seating. The pit where Elder Su had previously lectured from was now partitioned into numerous sections for the competitors participating in the crafting competition. Disciples were busy putting the finishing touches on displays containing various works of talisman-craft or medicine.

Ling Qi spotted Li Suyin’s light blue hair off toward the right corner, fretting over a table holding a long silver pill case and some kind of odd, flat bone talisman. She met the girl’s eye, and her friend smiled nervously back at her.

Glancing across the rest of the competitors, she spotted Fu Xiang with an array of mirrors in various sizes, Xuan Shi standing in the midst of three terracotta discs, lazily circling around him, and Yan Renshu with a series of vials full of oddly-coloured liquid. She even spotted Su Ling’s friend and supplier, the pudgy boy whose name escaped her at the moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ling Qi glimpsed a fluffy black tail through a gap in the crowd. Su Ling was seated in the furthest right corner of the spectators’ area, glancing at the crowd with both irritation and nervousness. Ling Qi smiled to herself, and she made her way over.

Su Ling spotted her as she approached, and she spotted a flash of relief in the girl’s eyes. Su Ling had obviously put a fair amount of effort into cleaning up. Her tangled mop of hair had been combed into wavy ringlets that hung neatly down to her shoulders, and her clothing was free of the scuffs and dirt that usually marked them. Ling Qi could still see the way her pointed ears twitched with ill-concealed nerves though; the furry tips of her ears were constantly in motion as if seeking a threat.

“Good afternoon, Su Ling,” Ling Qi greeted as she approached. “Would you mind if I took this seat?”

Su Ling paused in the process of greeting her, furrowing her brows for a moment before understanding dawned. “... Right. Good afternoon,” she replied gruffly, trying to keep her words polite. “I don’t mind at all. You here to see Li Suyin, I guess?”

“I am. I’m sure Li Suyin will be among the winners,” Ling Qi announced casually as she sat down beside the fox-girl. “Senior Sister Bao wouldn’t have spent so much time on her if she weren’t talented,” she added smoothly, mostly for the benefit of the people who had glanced her way when she had sat down with Su Ling.

Su Ling pursed her lips, eyeing Ling Qi before giving her a faint nod. “Yeah, Li Suyin is a smart girl,” she agreed.

“How are you?” Ling Qi asked more quietly. “You seem a little out of sorts.”

Su Ling held back a snort of laughter. “I suppose. Crowds just aren’t my thing. There have been a few rude individuals around too,” she said, not looking at anyone in particular.

It was hard to remember sometimes, given the company she usually kept, that people like Su Ling weren’t the most well liked. Ling Qi had never quite understood how the prejudice against spirit-blooded worked since so many old and prestigious families were the same. From what little she had gleaned on the matter from studying law with Cai Renxiang, it had to do with an edict by one of the early Mu emperors. It was something about ‘preserving Imperial character’. Whatever that meant.

“That is unfortunate,” Ling Qi acknowledged. “I’m sure it was a passing thing.”

“Right,” Su Ling said, a slightly bitter smile exposing a few sharpened teeth. “You were busy yesterday then?”

“I was. I wanted to make sure my opponent Shen Hu didn’t feel slighted by our match,” she admitted.

“I bet you did.” Su Ling gave her a sly look. “He looked like a pretty fine gentleman.”

Ling Qi changed the subject, controlling her expression. “You were watching the preliminaries then?”

“I was,” Su Ling said, graciously letting the other subject go. “You are pretty scary, you know?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ling Qi said with a glib smile. “What were the crafting preliminaries like?”

Su Ling hummed thoughtfully, drumming her blunt claws on the polished surface of the desk in front of her. “It was kinda interesting. First, there was a timed written exam with a few hundred questions,” Su Ling said, the twitching of her ears finally calming down.

Ling Qi winced. That sounded highly unpleasant. “Short or long form?” she asked morbidly.

“About half and half from what I saw,” her friend answered, shaking her head in amusement. “The ones who finished in time were then given a chest full of reagents to appraise and organise by their uses.”

“On a time limit as well, of course,” Ling Qi guessed wryly.

“Yeah,” Su Ling confirmed. “Final part was using the provided reagents to create a product, which was more fun to watch. Once everyone was done, the elders totaled up the scores for all three rounds. The twenty highest scorers made it to this round.”

“What was Li Suyin’s rank?” Ling Qi asked, casting a glance across the rest of the room. The seats were filling up, so the competition would probably be starting soon.

“Fifth,” Su Ling replied with a touch of pride before looking Ling Qi’s way. “I almost forgot. Did you win your match today?”

“Flawlessly,” Ling Qi said with a grin. “We should probably quiet down though,” she said, noting the shift in the rooms atmosphere as a familiar figure materialized at the fore of the competitors area. Su Ling followed her gaze and nodded, leaning back against the padded back of her seat.

Ling Qi felt an odd ripple in the air surrounding the pit where the competitors were setting up. Her view changed enhanced as if she were sitting in the frontmost rows rather than the very back. Elder Su stood before the competing disciples, facing the audience. The Elder looked much the same, a poised older woman with greying hair but an unlined face. She wore a simple three-layered gown of dark green marked with embroidery depicting a tracery of leafy vines.

“Welcome, honored visitors and observing disciples alike,” the older woman said crisply. “Before you stand the brightest of the Outer Sect’s potential craftsmen and physicians.” There was a touch of pride in her voice as she allowed her gaze to move along the lines of the seating. “Where our more martially inclined disciples form the blade which defends the Empire, it is these young men and women who form the haft which allows that blade to be wielded effectively. I humbly request that you remain silent during the presentations to come out of respect for their efforts. Time for questions and meetings will be allotted after the completion of the exam.”

Elder Su’s words were met with an agreeable silence. Disciples would hardly contradict her, and it seemed that this request was already known and expected by the adults in the room. After a beat of silence, Elder Su gave a shallow bow to the audience and turned on her heel to face the competitors. “Disciple Rank Twenty, Zhu Qing, prepare your presentation…”

Ling Qi leaned back in her seat as the wooden floor of the pit shifted and rotated, bringing a vaguely familiar girl to the fore. If they were starting at twenty, she had some time before her friend’s presentation came up. While she knew it would be rude not to pay attention, she couldn’t rightly say that the actual exam interested her much; the competitors were hardly going to be showing off the actual formations work involved for her to copy after all. Not that she really could. Advanced formations required personalization as much as cultivation did. It wasn't as simple as copying a master’s work to reproduce something great, or so she understood.

So as disciples presented their end-of-year projects, a wide variety of medicines and talismans, Ling Qi kept a polite front of attention while her thoughts wandered. Once she was done here, she would visit Xiulan and congratulate her. After that, would she have time to stop by her mother’s house in the village? She supposed it would depend on how long this exam took. If not, she would have to send Mother a note and give her the good news after the party tonight.

As she considered her crowded schedule, the exam proceeded, one presentation after another passing by. Elder Su remained neutral throughout, showing no approval or disapproval to the nervous disciples.

She glanced over at Su Ling as the other girl leaned forward and then back down at the competitors. It looked like Su Ling’s other friend was up. The pudgy boy was waxing poetic about his project; the thick, paired books weren’t flashy, but apparently they were linked and would remain so even at significant distance. The spiel about its benefits didn’t seem all that impressive to her, but then again, she was pretty sure Cai Renxiang’s book of Imperial tax law was somewhere in the range of fifty kilograms of paper, wood, and leather. So maybe a creation that would record transactions and finances and automatically calculate taxes and fees would actually be pretty helpful.

Ling Qi wondered who would be doing the actual scoring. Elder Jiao was the head of the Talisman Department, so presumably he was lurking about somewhere, and Elder Su would obviously be involved. Perhaps the other judges would be the Sect Head or Elder Ying? But she didn’t even know if the judges would announce the results immediately. A competition like this was probably hard to judge compared to the relatively straightforward result of a series of fights.

Ling Qi found a frown creeping onto her lips as Fu Xiang’s turn came up as the sixth ranked disciple. Her relationship with the older boy was complicated. She didn’t see him as an enemy, but she couldn’t really see him as a friend either. She was glad Li Suyin had beaten him.

Fu Xiang’s project was a communications array. Sets of linked mirrors in various sizes would allow two people to converse across long distances and even record short messages, among other features.

Soon enough, Li Suyin’s turn came, and although her friend looked a little pale as she was brought to stand before Elder Su, she still stood confidently beside her project.

“Disciple Rank Five, Li Suyin,” Elder Su greeted as the floor stopped moving. “Do you swear that your project is your own work?” she asked. She had asked that of every disciple thus far.

“I do,” Li Suyin answered, her head bowed in respect.

The Elder gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement, as she had done every time before. “Then raise your head, and present your work.”

“Thank you very much, Elder Su,” Li Suyin replied, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She turned toward the table beside her and carefully picked up a silver pill case. Flicking its latch open with her thumb, she opened the case, and a faint silvery mist leaked out, forming strange geometric patterns in the air as it dissolved. Laying within the case were three pills the size of a thumb, each one sparkling under the light of the room. They resembled nothing more than balls of liquid silver.

“My project consists of two parts. First are these pills, which I have dubbed Argent Web Pills.” Li Suyin swallowed then, glancing at Elder Su. “I hope the name is not presumptuous.”

“We will see,” Elder Su said noncommittally, her eyes focused on the medicine in Li Suyin’s hands.

Li Suyin waited a beat to be sure that the elder would not continue speaking. “The primary ingredients are the fluid found at the base of the mountain’s Argent Vents and the spirit core of Moon’s Eye White Condor,” she continued, slowly building confidence as she spoke. Setting the case down, she plucked one pill from its resting place and placed it in her mouth, pausing her speech long enough to swallow. “When taken, the pill spreads its medicinal energies throughout the user’s one hundred and eight primary meridians. At this potency, it only affects the lesser fifty four.”

Li Suyin then grasped the leather-wrapped handle of the odd bone instrument that was presumably the second part of her project. Looking closely, Ling Qi noted that it wasn’t bone but some kind of white chitin, and the wider end was wrapped tightly in a thick layer of spider silk. Squinting, she could see that there was a hole carved in the chitin beneath the silk, containing several marble-sized lumps.

“The medicinal energies cling to the impurities which fill unopened meridians, and if left alone, they will eventually cause painful swelling and minor lesions across the body,” Li Suyinsaid matter-of-factly, carefully shaking back her sleeve to expose her pale forearm. “However, by applying the Impurity Devourer to the appropriate part of the body,” she said, pressing the silk-wrapped end of the device against her own arm and gritting her teeth, “the talisman will apply significant pull to the medicinal energies, not only putting the vast majority into the desired channel, but also…” Suyin winced, slowly moving the device up and down her arm from elbow to wrist. “With some minor discomfort, it will draw much of the channel’s impurities out through the pores.”

“I see,” Elder Su said, her eyes following the motion of the talisman. “Precisely how much would you say?”

“R-roughly fifty percent,” Li Suyin answered, losing her confident tone briefly as she finally lowered her arm. The round lumps beneath the silk were darker and more visible now, and the white silk had some faint gray stains. “Many impurities remain too heavy or thick to draw out through the skin with the talisman.”

“Side effects?” the elder questioned.

“A lingering soreness and sensitivity in the affected area,” Li Suyin replied promptly. “In addition, certain components require cleansing and replacement with repeated use.”

“Hardly something unknown in our field,” Elder Su commented mildly, which caused Li Suyin’s expression to brighten. “Very well. A fine display, young lady,” she said, moving back onto the script she had used in previous entries. “Please step back.”

Ling Qi was happy for her friend. Even she had been starting to have some trouble with opening meridians before she had gotten access to the White Room, she could only imagine how much making the process faster by half would help others. Li Suyin would get a spot into the Inner Sect with a project like that.

The remaining presentations went by quickly enough. Yan Renshu, who was ranked third after the crafting preliminaries, presented a series of medicines which greatly increased the growth rate of lower grade spirit beasts. The second ranked disciple, an unassuming boy named Du Feng, presented a flying carpet. Well, flying was a bit much; it hovered a set distance above the ground and moved at the pace of a swift third realm horse. Still, it was impressive.

Xuan Shi, the highest ranked disciple, presented his constructs. Ling Qi was glad that the ducal scion wasn’t participating in the combat tournament. The talismans made by Xuan Shi worked in sets of three and reactively defended against attacks, almost like a defensive domain weapon. However, with each attack they blocked, they would grow stronger against techniques of the same element. With enough sets chained together, he claimed they could defend a whole troop of men or even the hull of a small ship or a fortress gate.

With the last presentation over, Elder Su announced the end of the testing. The results would not be announced until tomorrow.

Ling Qi caught Li Suyin’s eye again as the crowd was released to mingle with the disciples, offering her friend an encouraging smile. As she and Su Ling rose to their feet though, her friend’s attention was quickly drawn away by the approach of an older gentleman with a rather luxurious beard, and he wasn’t the only one queing up to speak with her friend.

“Well, I guess she made a good impression,” Su Ling noted, looking down at the sight. Suyin wasn’t the only one with a bevy of older cultivators looking to speak with them, but she was one of the more popular of the crafting competitors.

Ling Qi was happy for her friend of course, but it looked like she would have to wait some time before being able to speak with Li Suyin. Ling Qi would just have to visit her mother after the gathering tonight.

***

“Congratulations, Li Suyin,” Ling Qi said with a smile as she approached her friend. They had to wait for some time to reach her, but Ling Qi thought that it was worth it to see her friend so clearly happy. “There is no way that you will fail to make the Inner Sect with something like that.”

“I do not want to be arrogant,” Li Suyin demurred, but she could not wholly hide her smile. “It does seem to have been well received though,” she continued brightly. “I am glad you had time to see my competition, Ling Qi. I am sorry I was not able to return the favor.”

“You haven’t missed too much yet,” Ling Qi said. “My real fight is going to be tomorrow, I think.” She wanted to ask her friend how things had gone with her family, but this wasn’t the place for that. Suyin’s mood gave her the answer she needed anyway.

“She’s right. It’s easy to forget how strong this girl is,” Su Ling huffed, glancing at Ling Qi. “You worked out the thing with the ‘pearls’ then?”

“The volatility is much reduced, yes,” Li Suyin answered, clasping her hands. “Your advice on the matter was invaluable.”

“Don’t go leaving me out here,” Ling Qi cut in dryly, heeding the nudge from Sixiang to keep her friends from getting into technical talk here. “How long is the waiting list going to be before I can get one by the way?”

“Well…” Li Suyin began, a fretful note in her voice. Su Ling coughed into her hand, giving their mutual friend a meaningful look. “It will be some time before more devices are ready. Gathering materials is somewhat time-intensive,” Li Suyin finished.

“Well, just let me know if I can help,” Ling Qi said easily. “I’d like to earn a discount if I could.”

“Thank you, Ling Qi,” her friend replied after a moment. “I will be sure to let you know when we prepare the next expedition.”

Ling Qi raised her eyebrows, glancing between her two friends. “Expedition? Just what have you two been up to?”

“Senior Sister Bao provided direction, so…” Li Suyin trailed off as Su Ling met her eyes.

“Probably not the best place,” the fox girl said gruffly.

“Of course,” Ling Qi said, chagrined, glancing at the crowd all around them. “I forget myself.”

“Please do not trouble yourself,” Li Suyin reassured her. “I am looking forward to spending more time with you again, Ling Qi.”

“It has been awhile since we have had our study sessions, hasn’t it?” Ling Qi said after a moment, remembering those first months at the Sect, working out the bare basics of cultivation with Li Suyin. “I will look forward to it as well.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be as exciting as the last time I went out with you,” Su Ling interjected dryly.

“Hopefully,” Ling Qi agreed. “Congratulations again, Li Suyin. We should probably move on though. We don’t want to hold things up too long.”

“Of course,” Li Suyin acknowledged. “I will be cheering for you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Li Suyin,” Ling Qi replied formally, offering an appropriate bow. “Farewell for now.”

As she and Su Ling began to work their way out of the building, the other girl spoke up. “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you act like that.”

Ling Qi directed her attention toward Su Ling without turning her head as they made their way out of the entrance hall and into the plaza. “Does it bother you?”

“Not anymore,” Su Ling said. “It’s just the way things are, isn’t it? Like the changing of the seasons. Maybe I should start reading Suyin’s books on etiquette.”

“You could always get some points together and hire me as a tutor next year,” Ling Qi quipped, not bothering to hide her grin.

“Shove off,” Su Ling replied with a huff. “... Take care of yourself next year,” she added.

“I plan to,” Ling Qi said. “You too, you know?”

“Alone with assholes around every corner?” Su Ling laughed. “Sounds like home.”

“You’re not going to be alone.” Ling Qi rolled her eyes.

“I know,” the other girl said, shaking her head. “In any case, see you later, Ling Qi.”

“See you,” Ling Qi agreed as they parted ways at the gates.

Chapter 199-Tournament 9

By the time Ling Qi made it back to the tournament stadium, the sun was on its way toward the horizon’s edge, painting the sky the colors of sunset. Being cleared by the Inner Sect medics staffing the underground hospice took some time.

As one of the winners and continuing participants in the tournament, Xiulan was afforded a private room to rest in, unlike the losing disciples. Some of the losing disciples had already been released into the custody of family present, who would be responsible for any trouble caused by the released disciple. The rest would be allowed to leave only after the semi-finals were completed.

Ling Qi knocked lightly on the door to Xiulan’s room in the wing set aside for tournament participants. A moment later, she heard her friend’s voice inviting her in and slipped in.

The room was well appointed, its stone walls and floor panelled with finely polished wood softened by decor. A small “window” set into the far wall lit the room, giving a view of the tournament grounds despite the room’s position underground. The only furnishings were a small end table, a narrow but comfortable looking bed set against the rightmost wall, and a pair of padded chairs, one in the corner and one near the bed.

Her friend was sitting up in bed as she entered, her back against the headboard, which left her facing Ling Qi. Her hair hung loose down to her shoulders, and rather than her usual gowns, she wore a soft silver robe similar to the ones Ling Qi had worn at the start of the year.

“Only you would still be looking good after a match like that,” Ling Qi joked as she shut the door behind her.

“As if I would allow a few wounds to mar my poise,” Xiulan replied with a haughty sniff, setting aside the book which had been open across her lap. “My foe had the worst of it by far, I’m sure,” she added with a cruel smile.

“I wonder if she will have to shave her head to fix all of that burnt hair,” Ling Qi laughed, taking her seat in the chair near the bed.

“Unfortunately not,” Xiulan said with an exaggerated pout. “There are many elixirs for that kind of thing.” Her smile grew sly then. “Then again, I was hardly the only one inflicting wounds today. How easily you got under that Chu girl’s skin.”

“Well, it wasn’t a difficult weakness to exploit,” Ling Qi noted. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her statements in that match for all that it had been easy to do in the moment. She didn’t say anything she didn’t believe in, but they had been deliberately inflammatory.

“Oh, indeed,” Xiulan laughed. “Still, it is good to see you dipping your toes into that sort of combat. Perhaps I might tutor you next year,” she added brightly.

Ling Qi smiled at the other girl’s enthusiasm for having made it into the Inner Sect. “Perhaps. Friends should help one another after all,” she said lightly. “Will you be well for the matches tomorrow?”

“Normally, such wounds would leave me bedridden for several days,” Xiulan acknowledged. “However, the Sect makes use of greater resources in cases like this, so I will be well by morning. You would not believe the itching,” she complained, plucking at the hems of her robe with nervous motion.

Ling Qi suspected that “itching” would be the least of her worries if she had suffered the wounds she had seen Xiulan take. “I’m sure you will survive somehow,” she said instead.

Xiulan hummed in agreement. “Where have you been, by the by? I had half-expected you to be hovering over my bedside when I awoke,” she teased, settling her hands in her lap.

“I had thought to leave that to your family,” Ling Qi replied. “I’m sure that your Mother wished to speak with you.”

“... She did,” Xiulan admitted, a complex mix of emotion in her eyes. “But you did not answer my question.”

“I wanted to see the presentations of the crafters,” Ling Qi explained, letting her friend’s discomfort slide. “Li Suyin will certainly be joining us in the Inner Sect.”

“That little mouse?” Xiulan clarified with a small grimace.

“She has more of a bite than you might think,” Ling Qi said glibly. “Just ask how Xu Jia and her friends have been doing.” She felt a little bad about revealing something Li Suyin wasn’t proud of, but she wanted her friends to be friends - or at least not sniping at each other. One had to strike where there was opportunity.

“I see,” Xiulan said, studying Ling Qi’s expression. “Well, I have been wrong before. If she does not get left behind either, I shall admit that your eye is the better one on this matter.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ling Qi said playfully. “In all seriousness though… Congratulations, Gu Xiulan. I knew you could do it.”

“Of course I could,” Xiulan boasted. “I will not let you leave me behind so easily,” she huffed, meeting Ling Qi’s eyes. Silence stretched between them before she looked away. “... And really, there is no need to be so formal in private, Qi.”

“Oh, you do not mind if I call you Lan-Lan now?” Ling Qi asked with a grin.

Her friend scowled at her. “I will find a way to set you alight, no matter how fine your defenses.”

Ling Qi laughed, leaning back in her chair. “You would too,” she mused. “Sorry, Xiulan, but I had to.”

“Tai is going to pay for that nonsense when I see him next,” Xiulan grumbled, crossing her arms.

She stayed with her friend for a little while after that, chatting about minor things, but all too soon, it was time for her to go. Xiulan needed her sleep, and Ling Qi had a gathering to attend. As she left the tournament grounds to meet up with her liege, she considered the question her liege had asked earlier that day in light of having to face Ji Rong next, and if she prevailed against him, Sun Liling the day after.

She was well stocked with everything easily available, and she had no other arts in the first place, so that left picking up some qi cards that were loaded with the Abyssal Exhalation worm constructs and to request her liege charge another card with her techniques, if Cai Renxiang were amenable.

***

“The qi cards will be all I need,” Ling Qi finished with a bow toward her liege as they prepared to leave the girl’s Outer Sect residence for the visitor’s grounds below.

Qi cards could store techniques for later use, opening up more options in a fight. They were falling off in use now. Cards which could store techniques more potent than the earliest Green Realm arts grew rapidly rarer, so she should make use of them while she could.

“I see. You intend to alter your usual strategy then?” Cai Renxiang asked absently as they stepped outside, her feet lifting from the ground a moment later. The light emanating from around her head and shoulders made the evening shadows flicker wildly.

Ling Qi followed suit, luxuriating in the sheer ease with which she could maintain flight in the other girl’s presence. “I just wish to keep my options open,” she said. She wasn’t quite sure of exactly how she would approach her battle with Ji Rong yet, but the worm constructs were effective in bogging down a melee attacker like Ji Rong. They were usually too qi-expensive to use out of the blue in her matches, but in a qi card with the qi expended ahead of time, they would be a potential option.

“I hope my last request wasn’t too presumptuous,” she added carefully.

Cai Renxiang kept her eyes forward as they soared silently toward the foot of the mountain, the cool night air tugging weakly at the hems of their gowns. “It is unusual but not unheard of. You have earned that much favor. Rather, given my resource restrictions, such a thing is only reasonable. Allow me a time to consider which my techniques might complement your skills best.”

Ling Qi let out a near silent sigh of relief. She hadn’t been sure if asking for a qi card charged with her liege’s art would be appropriate, but she remembered that she had turned a fight against Huang Da with Meizhen’s technique earlier in the year. “I see. Moving on then, what are your plans for your mother’s gathering, my lady?”

“We will present ourselves to Mother first, of course,” her liege replied as their flight path began to angle downward toward the twinkling lights of the ostentatious tents and homes built in the visiting area. They were heading toward the vast construction of white silk which now sat at its head. “After, I will speak with those dignitaries I have not yet had time to visit. I cannot give an absolute itinerary.”

“How surprising,” Ling Qi said lightly. “That must bother you a great deal.”

“Quite,” Cai Renxiang agreed, a subtle sour note in her voice. “You will attend to me for the duration of the party. I am certain you know the required etiquette.”

“I do,” Ling Qi reassured her, repressing the urge to sigh. This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?

“Recall that this is to your benefit,” Cai Renxiang reminded her, briefly glancing back as they neared the long carpet spilling out over the grassy field from the entrance of the Cai’s great pavilion. “Good impressions upon those I will speak to will serve you well in the future.”

“I remember,” Ling Qi said, repressing a sigh at the reminder as they alighted on the carpet. “I did well yesterday, did I not?”

“Hmm. I suppose,” Cai Renxiang allowed. “Just do not go drifting off,” she added with a tiny touch of dry humor.

Ling Qi held back a grumble as she smoothed her gown. She was not that bad. The two of them entered the pavilion a moment later, the two guards flanking the entrance saluting and bowing in unison, their polished armor and white plumed helms gleaming in the resplendent light radiating from within.

The interior of the grand pavilion nearly took her breath away. In the center was a great marble fountain, water rising and falling in glimmering spouts from the mouths of entwined dragons picked out in lifelike detail at their center. Smaller fountains dotted the grounds as well, and from the frothing waters rose glimmering rainbows that cast shifting light on the crowd below. The pavilion was well furnished with long tables groaning under the weight of delicacies lining the rear of the tent and well upholstered couches and chairs occupied by chatting nobility surrounding the various fountains.

On the far left of the tent, there was a raised stage where a beautiful woman in a many layered gown played a serene melody on a harp as large as her body. A pair of dancers in trailing silk scarves performed on either side of her, the motions of their limbs and the silken fans in their hands perfectly symmetrical.

Ling Qi didn’t have much time to observe the festivities. Cai Renxiang proceeded further in without pause. Ling Qi put her focus on maintaining the proper distance and pose: two steps behind her liege and just slightly to her left, head very slightly tilted down, and back straight, her hands clasped in front. The pose still felt a little awkward since she was so much taller than Cai Renxiang, but that couldn’t really be helped.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose as they moved further in, exchanging polite greetings as they went. She was more used to the riot of spiritual sensations now, but even here, among so many nobles, she could feel Cai Shenhua’s presence bearing down upon her, an oppressive weight draped about her shoulders. It grew more intense as they reached the Duchess herself, reclining upon a long plush cushioned chaise lounge beside Minister Diao.

Ling Qi shuddered as those empty pools of colorless radiance which served as the woman’s eyes chanced across her face, ducking her head a little more. The Duchess had seemingly shed the outermost layer of the gown she had worn this morning, leaving the pale marble-like skin of her shoulders exposed, although the floaty silks and lace which remained left her figure tastefully ambiguous.

As Cai Renxiang smoothly bowed to her Mother, Ling Qi did the same, her bow much lower of course. It took a moment to drag her attention away from the Duchess and note that the woman was not alone. Seated in a wide arch around her were a great many people who made Ling Qi very nervous indeed. To her left sat Bai Suzhen and Bai Meizhen, the older of which was studying them coolly over the rim of a teacup and the younger of which was studiously not paying her any mind. To her right were a pair of heavily garbed figures with wide tortoiseshell patterned hats seated in individual chairs. Those would presumably be the Xuan admirals she had heard about.

At the “bottom” of the arch was Guo Si and one of his guards, and opposite him was a massive bear of a man with wild red hair and a short beard of the same shade, his bare and muscular arms thrown out casually over the back of his couch. It was hard not to feel as if all eyes were on her, even if she knew they were actually looking to Cai Renxiang.

“Greetings, Mother,” Cai Renxiang said. “Your humble daughter presents herself for your inspection.”

“So you have,” Cai Shenhua replied, the light of her gaze falling upon Cai Renxiang’s back and casting her face in shadow. “Still using that same style, I see. Really, you should do something different once in a while, young lady. That austere look of yours…” The Duchess sighed, resting her cheek in one hand.

Ling Qi did her best not to twitch nervously. This conversation wasn’t one she had been coached to expect in this kind of situation. Thankfully, her liege seemed more prepared for her Mother’s statements.

“My apologies, Mother,” she said evenly, maintaining her picture perfect bow. “I did not feel that I had the time or skill required to make worthy changes to your designs.”

“I suppose so. We will have to have a little mother-daughter time tonight then. I am certain you will look stunning on the morrow,” Cai Shenhua said. Ling Qi couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity at the nigh invisible tremble in Cai Renxiang’s hands which came in the wake of those words. “But I am being rude. Raise your head and greet our guests.”

Ling Qi carefully straightened up a beat after her liege, but she kept her eyes down as was appropriate given the company. Following Cai Renxiang’s lead, she offered shallower bows to each of the guest groups in turn.

“Honored guests, thank you very much for attending,” Cai Renxiang intoned. “As you know, I am Cai Renxiang, and this is my retainer and attendant, Baroness Ling Qi. I hope you have all enjoyed your stay in the Emerald Seas thus far.”

Guo Si smiled, bowing his head in return as he answered first. “The trip was worth every step, I assure you, Lady Cai. The beauty of your home is beyond compare.”

The red-haired giant let out a rather uncouth guffaw, pinning the Guo scion with a look of amusement. “The entertainment has been a bit lacking,” the mountain-like man said baldly. “Your girl gave the closest thing to an amusing show, Guo. Your youngest generation is slipping, Bai Suzhen.”

The aforementioned woman shot the red-haired man the sort of look Ling Qi had only seen on the faces of wealthy women encountering the filth of the street. “As crass as ever, I see, Zheng Po,” Bai Suzhen retorted coldly. “My niece has a kind heart. That is hardly a fault in moderation.”

Ling Qi had to struggle to maintain her even expression at that statement. Bai Meizhen was her best friend, but to call her kind…

“Now, now, do not get distracted now,” Cai Shenhua interjected lightly, raising a cup to her lips. The clear glass in her hands glimmered, the rainbow-hued liquid within shifting hypnotically. “You are greeting my daughter, not airing old grievances.” Ling Qi had to struggle to keep her shoulders straight as the weight of the woman’s aura spiked.

Zheng Po grinned at the Duchess. “As you say, Matriarch,” he laughed. “Young Cai, I look forward to your matches going forward. The young Gu looks like she will at least put up a fight.” He then shot a sly look the Guo scion’s way. “The ladies of Golden Fields are at their best when they are trying to kill you after all.”

“I will be sure to take your compliment home, Sir Zheng,” Guo Si replied blandly, crossing his bare arms over the fine vest he wore. “My aunt will surely be glad that you remember her.”

Bai Suzhen ignored the two men’s byplay to look straight at Cai Renxiang, only briefly glancing over Ling Qi. “You have done well, young lady, despite some early obstacles. I am certain you will give my niece a good match,” she said, briefly resting her hand on Meizhen’s as she spoke.

“I look forward to facing you on the field of battle, Lady Cai,” Meizhen said smoothly, dipping her head very slightly to the other girl.

“A more impressive sight I am sure we will not see this year,” Guo Si agreed, ending his staring contest with Zheng.

“Your words are too kind,” Cai Renxiang replied in the beat of silence that followed. “I will be certain not to disappoint any of your expectations.”

“You have been very quiet, Sir Xuan Ci, Sir Xuan Ce. Do not tell me that you have fallen into torpor on us,” Cai Shenhua said. “Have you been enjoying the festivities?”

“Nay, O radiant one,” the leftmost of the heavily cloaked men spoke. His robes shrouded him almost entirely from view, the space between his high, stiff collar and the lower edge of his hat only just enough to leave his stormy grey eyes visible, along with a band of pale flesh marked by black scales. “My brother and I agree…”

“... thy governance has been a great boon to this weary land,” the other said, his voice softer than his brother’s. “Though, we admit…”

“... that the dance of limbs and blades are not to our interest,” his brother finished. Ling Qi found herself stiffening then as his gaze fell on her, the sight of a storm-tossed sea, frothing and violent, flashed before her eyes. “This one is most curious where thy daughter’s hand found a Brother in these southern climes.”

“It is a matter the Sect would prefer not be aired openly,” Cai Shenhua answered smoothly, saving her the need to try and explain.

“In that case, we shall have to share words with the venerable Yuan He,” the rightmost brother said, turning his gaze to Ling Qi as well. “This one shall hope he needs not inform the young lady of the honor she bears.”

Ling Qi bowed more deeply. “Zhengui is precious to me. I have raised him from his egg with diligent care. I do not intend to give him anything but my best.”

“Zhengui?” the rightmost brother asked, his stern voice sounding faintly bemused. “I see.”

Ling Qi’s cheeks flushed. “It… Ah, his name…” Suddenly, the pun did not seem quite as funny.

“It is fine, young wraith,” the leftmost brother replied. “Worry yourself not over such things.”

“Hah! So even the Xuan have a sense of humor. How surprising,” Zheng Po laughed, glancing at Ling Qi briefly.

“As always, you mistake reserve for humorlessness,” Bai Suzhen said with a sniff.

Cai Shenhua smiled thinly, her radiant eyes narrowing. “Well, my daughter, I am satisfied with your greeting. You are dismissed for the moment. See to our other guests, and ensure that they find our hospitality acceptable.”

Cai Renxiang bowed deeply to her mother once more. “As you command, Mother. It was my honor to be allowed to greet such esteemed guests. Ladies Bai, Sir Zheng, Sirs Xuan, Sir Guo, please excuse us.”

Chapter 200-Tournament 10

As they left Cai Shenhua and the highest ranking guests behind, Ling Qi allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief as the weight on her shoulders lessened. Just standing there in their presence had been stressful. Being ignored completely by her best friend hadn’t felt good either.

“Do you require a moment?” Cai Renxiang asked, pausing to look at Ling Qi.

“No, I am fine,” Ling Qi reassured her. “Please do not delay on my account.” The last thing she wanted was for the other girl to give her mother a reason for complaint.

Cai Renxiang replied with a tiny nod, turning her gaze forward once more, resuming her path back toward the more crowded parts of the pavilion. The next few hours passed in a blur of names and faces as Cai Renxiang made her way through the guest list, trading pleasantries and small talk.

Ling Qi found occasion to speak much less than her liege, but all the same, maintaining the mask of stiff politeness and subservience was exhausting. It was like studying law all over again. She was sure that she was going to forget half of the people she had met tonight, if only due to the blandness of the rote exchanges which passed between them and Cai Renxiang.

How was it that so many people, who she could feel were all unique, their auras a riot of color and imagery, could turn into the same faceless crowds?

<Grandmother says that you humans make your little social rituals for the sake of peace,> Sixiang commented casually as Ling Qi headed for the refreshments. Cai Renxiang had noticed her wandering attention and set her to the task of retrieving drinks for the both of them. She was grateful for the break.

<I’m not sure I see the connection,> Ling Qi thought glumly as she looked over the array of tea blends, ciders, and watered wines available.

<I didn’t understand what she meant either, before,> Sixiang admitted. <But I think I might be starting to see. If a few spirits tear each other apart after offending each other, it’s no big deal, you know? You humans don’t get better from that kind of thing though.>

Ling Qi placed her order with the attendant. Cai Renxiang could have her tea; Ling Qi preferred something cold. Briefly, she wondered if she had developed that from her association with Zeqing. <If everyone acts the same on the surface, I guess it reduces clashes.> It was a grudging thought.

<Mm, well, I don’t disagree with that it seems awfully boring,> Sixiang mused in response to her mood. <I wonder if it’s really the best way. Things weren’t like this in the oldest days.>

Sixiang’s musing faded into her thoughts as Ling Qi headed back toward the beacon that was Cai Renxiang’s aura, two cups in her hands. Weaving through the crowd was second nature. The verbal acknowledgement of the people she was slipping around was less so, but she was growing used to it.

However, as she approached her liege, she paused as she saw the company Cai Renxiang was now with. She was no longer speaking to the viscount functionaries she had left her with, but rather with one of the Xuan admirals, indistinguishable from his brother. Ling Qi held back a grimace. Hopefully, she could avoid a situation in which it became clear that she couldn’t tell the two of them apart. Unless Sixiang…?

<Sorry. I couldn’t tell you either,> Sixiang replied to her unspoken query. <I’m pretty sure that they’re doing that on purpose.>

Not unexpected, Ling Qi thought glumly, resuming her stride toward the two. It wouldn’t do to stand here gawking; she would just end up looking rude that way. So, fixing her expression into one of pleasant subservience, Ling Qi returned to her liege’s side.

“My apologies for my interruption, Lady Cai, Admiral Xuan,” she said demurely as they turned at her approach, lowering her head in a bow. “Your request, my lady,” she added, holding out the drink Cai had sent her to retrieve.

“Thank you, Ling Qi,” the shorter girl said politely, accepting the cup of steaming tea. “Admiral Xuan Ce, please continue.” Ling Qi fell in appropriately a step behind her liege as the other girl’s attention turned back to the high-ranking guest.

“Enough words have I spoken of the avaricious Jin already,” the man replied, briefly glancing at Ling Qi. “My brother and I trust that the withered channels tying the great wood seas to the harbors of the north shall see their blockages crumble.”

“I will do all in my power to ensure it, should Mother choose to trust me with such responsibility,” Cai Renxiang replied evenly. “And I will speak with the Bao on the matter in any case.”

“We are thankful,” the heavily cloaked man said, his hat tilting slightly at his nod. “Treacherous is the sea of imperium when sailing alone.”

“As you say, Admiral Xuan,” Cai Renxiang said. “My honored Mother understands the value of strong ties in times of trouble, and I have personally witnessed the steadiness of your house.”

“The hatchling,” the older man chuckled, his laughter little more than a rasp. “Yes, my grand nephew has exceeded the measure laid for him by elder eyes.” There was a twinkle of amusement in his storm-grey eyes. “It is this old one’s hope that the young miss will offer him support in turn.”

“Xuan Shi is a valued ally,” Cai Renxiang agreed. “It would be my pleasure to do so.”

Ling Qi kept herself from fidgeting through an effort of will as the two of them spoke, keeping herself alert by surreptitiously noting the faces of the guests passing nearby. She could not match names to most of them, but she figured that it would be good practice regardless. She was careful not to let her attention wander too far, and she was glad for that when Admiral Xuan’s gaze turned to her.

“And what of thou, little Baroness?” the man asked. “I would hear thy thoughts on the young one.”

Ling Qi’s eyes widened marginally. Why was he asking her? She was acquainted with Xuan Shi, but they hardly knew one another well. “Sir Xuan is a dedicated and hard working young man,” she said with only a slight pause. “While we have not had many opportunities to speak, he has provided me with helpful advice on the matter of caring for Zhengui. He is a good ally and a credit to your house.”

Cai gave her a faint look of approval out of the corner of her eye, so she hadn’t screwed that up too badly. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that the elder Xuan looked faintly disappointed, which was alarming. There was no sign of it in his voice when he spoke next though.

“Yes, the precious one,” he chuckled instead, making Ling Qi flush. “Perhaps thy wings should carry the two of you north in the future. It would do the child good to meet his kin.”

“I would have no objection,” Cai Renxiang interjected smoothly. “I would need to request that you not borrow my retainer for too long, Admiral Xuan.”

“I am no thief,” the older man huffed, glancing at her again. “... Yet I must express disappointment in my grand nephew’s lack of rigor in some matters,” the man said with a sigh.

“Your words are too kind. I would be pleased to visit your lands alongside Zhengui in the future,” Ling Qi said politely. “I am undeserving of such attention.”

“Hmph. This suthron dance can be tiring,” Xuan Ce grunted, showing a bit of irritation for the first time. “Perhaps to those without Sight, thy words might be true. Portents swirl about this place, forming the seeds of a hurricane, and yet I see thee clearly amidst the gathering winds. The Star Child and Moon Wraith both will know no simple future."

Ling Qi swallowed thickly at the ominous words, sharing an uncertain glance with Cai Renxiang, who responded carefully. “My retainer and I both thank you for sharing your Sight, Admiral Xuan.”

He waved a hand, very slightly shaking his head. “Nay, I will take no thanks for such a prediction,” he said , turning his attention back to Cai Renxiang in full. “Allow me to commend the sharpness of thine eyes one last time, young lady Cai. However, this one must attend to other business.”

“I will take your kind words to heart, Admiral Xuan. Please enjoy the rest of the evening,” Cai Renxiang said, bowing at the waist as the older man took his leave.

Ling Qi let out a breath as he vanished into the crowd, glancing down at the cup of cider she held, now growing warm in her hands. “Should I be worried?”

Cai Renxiang frowned, pausing to finally take a sip from her cup. “Divinations regarding the distant future are hardly reliable,” she said quietly. “Regardless, did you not know that the path you have chosen to follow me on was treacherous?”

Ling Qi nodded. “I suppose I should study up on northern customs then,” she said, changing the subject.

“In the future perhaps,” her liege replied, turning to lead her elsewhere in the pavilion. “Such a visit is far away, and the present yet demands your attention.”

“Of course,” Ling Qi said, straightening her shoulders, mentally preparing herself to return to a state of polite blandness. “What is our next appointment?”

“The Lord Xu,” Cai Renxiang answered. “I will require your presence for only a short while longer, Ling Qi.”

Ling Qi carefully did not express her gratitude for that, simply nodding in response. It would be good to get out of here. Even if she was growing used to it, the presence of so many powerful cultivators was still giving her a faint headache.

Soon enough, Cai Renxiang made good on her word, dismissing her for the evening and returning to her Mother. Looking at the other girl’s back as she went, Ling Qi wished that she could offer some words of comfort, but there were none she could speak in such a public place given the reason for the girl’s stiff shoulders and blank expression.

As she flitted away into the night, little more than a scrap of shadow passing beneath the stars, Ling Qi could not help but ponder on it. She had, for a very long time, resented her mother a great deal with the unfair mindset of a child, but some part of her had never really doubted the woman’s affection for her. Yet for all that she was powerless, in the past and especially now, Ling Qi could not rely on her.

The thought was sour, but Ling Qi could not help but think it. Cai Renxiang though… Her mother was strong, as strong as it was possible to be and still walk the material world. Only a bare handful of people could even question her authority, let alone force her to do anything. Ling Qi envied that, at least a little bit. Yet, she could not envy Cai Renxiang, having looked into that woman’s eyes.

Who could even tell the difference between affection and cruelty coming from something like that?

So as she landed without a sound before the doors of the house she had arranged for her mother and passed wordlessly by the Sect guard at the gate, Ling Qi felt only a faint relief. The light tingle of the house’s alarm formation passed over as she slipped inside, recognizing her qi and falling quiescant, welcoming her home, such as it was. She followed the faint light and sound of fire toward the house’s sitting room. It was a rather chilly night for a mortal.

She found her mother seated by the fire in a soft chair, a book open in her lap. Ling Qi saw the weariness in the older woman’s drooping eyes, but she also saw the determination to stay awake and the faint worry in the lines at the corners of her eyes. Very deliberately, Ling Qi placed her next footfall to make the floorboards creak.

“Sorry I am so late, Mother,” she said softly, entering the room.

Her mother had looked up at the sound of her footfall, and a faint smile broke out on her tired face as Ling Qi spoke. “There is nothing to show concern for, Ling Qi. I am sure that important matters occupied your time,” she replied ruefully, shutting the book in her lap as she stood.

“That is only so much of an excuse,” Ling Qi said wryly, crossing the room in a few long strides to wrap her slim mother in a carefully controlled hug. “I made it into the Inner Sect, Mother.”

Ling Qingge twitched at the sudden contact, as she often did, but all the same, Ling Qi felt her mother’s small hands come to rest on her back. “I am glad for you. Does that mean that you have won your… tournament?” she asked awkwardly.

“Not quite,” Ling Qi said, withdrawing from the embrace after another moment. “I, and seven others, have qualified for the Inner Sect. Now, we will fight to determine our starting rank.”

“I see,” the older woman said, looking up at her with some concern. “It feels strange to me still, to hear my daughter speak so easily of fighting…” She trailed off, looking uncertain as to how to express her concern.

“No one gets hurt too badly,” Ling Qi said, adjusting the truth. “My friend Xiulan had the worst of it today, and she will be fine by morning. The Sect’s physicians are very skilled.”

“Of course,” Ling Qingge replied, sounding relieved. It made Ling Qi feel bad, but there was no good to be had in getting into the gory details. It would only distress her mother for no reason. “Is it the duels which take up the whole day?” the older woman asked, pulling her attention back to the present.

“No,” Ling Qi admitted. “I have been attending parties and meeting all sorts of people,” she said with a grimace. “I almost wish it was more duels. I have so many letters to pen, abstaining from different offers.”

Her mother smiled, seeming more comfortable with this topic. “I see. I am glad your lord is taking care to give you such a good grounding. Does she already have someone in mind for you?”

“Not yet,” Ling Qi said evasively. “That sort of thing… It’s best to wait. I will only get more valuable in the future.” She still felt kind of gross, saying things like that.

Ling Qingge looked pensive. “I suppose so. I believe I had a cousin who awakened. She was not groomed in the same manner as the rest of us.”

“Right,” Ling Qi agreed, seeking a change from the uncomfortable topic. “How is that going by the way? Have you felt anything yet?”

Now, it was her mother’s turn to look uncomfortable. “A certain warmth, a time or two, but no more. I fear you are only wasting resources.”

“It’s never a waste,” Ling Qi replied firmly, meeting her mother’s eyes. A few red stones was a paltry cost for giving Mother a chance to live truly healthy and well. She would give her family as much health and luxury as she could afford. “Please, Mother, keep trying. I don’t want to…” She looked away, not finishing the sentence.

“I will not waste your generosity,” Ling Qingge said quietly. “Let us not speak of such things though,” she continued with a weak smile. “Please, sit down. Tell me a little of your victories.”

Ling Qi recognized the effort to change the subject. She had done the same a few moments ago, but she just smiled, going along with it. “You’re right. No need to talk about heavy things right now…”

Her mother might be but a mortal, but sitting here by the fire, telling slightly embellished stories of the last couple of days, she found that it didn’t matter. She was glad to have her family again.

Bonus: The Ministry of Integrity

Commerce, Communication, Law, and Spiritual Affairs.

These four great institutions have been the bulwark of Imperial governance since the first dynasty. The many clerks and officials employed by the ministries have worked tirelessly throughout the millennia to maintain the Empire’s cohesion and the Imperial peace, resolving the many, many conflicts which arise between the Empire’s Great Families and provinces and ensuring the efficient execution of the Emperor’s or Empress’ will throughout their lands.

- May be too blunt. Reduce implications of fault for the nobility. Further emphasis on how the ministries assist and support.

However, under Emperor Si, a fifth ministry was founded. Headed by then-Crown Prince An, shortly after his success in the South Emerald Seas, it began as a subdivision of the Ministry of Law. The wise prince envisioned the group as agents empowered by the Imperial seal to not only simply interpret law and advise a land’s liege lords but also to punish gross violations of the Imperial will and the orderly operation of society.

In those early days, the agency’s primary focus was on matters of finance. Over the many millennia of the Empire’s rule, it is an unfortunate truth that a great many cities, towns, and villages had become lax in paying their dues to the Throne. The first task, then, was to investigate the aging infrastructure of the Ministry of Commerce and find where the rot had set in at their worst and where the troubles were caused by malicious and disloyal individuals.

Truly, it was a glad day for the Imperial Seat when their revenues doubled in a matter of decades, merely from performing simple upkeep. At last, the damage wrought in the declining days of the second dynasty were set to rights, and this accomplishment earned the Crown Prince many accolades. Indeed, this accomplishment can be credited with truly solidifying his position as Crown Prince.

- Putting it too lightly. The Imperial tax code was a barely coherent morass of incoherent language and special exceptions. It is a minor miracle that the Throne accumulated any income at all before our reforms.

-- True, but irrelevant for the document. Implication of outright incompetence and malice in past and present institutions will not play well, even under current conditions. Better to allow the blame to fall upon generational rot.

When the Prince was crowned as Emperor An, the remit of the agency was expanded to include other crimes. Abuses of the mortal populace, such as barred forms of medicine and cultivation research, were rooted out. Smuggling activities and proscribed cults were curtailed and dismantled, and those disloyal nobles guilty of funding or participating in such crimes punished.

- So short a recounting given the horrors we uprooted. It seems disrespectful in a way.

-- Unfortunate, but it is better for proscribed cultivation methods to die in obscurity than be given attention. We all remember how matters of the Cult of Twilight turned out when secrecy broke.

--- Not one of us took our oaths for glory. Let them be forgotten.

At this point, with many thousands of agents and hundreds of managerial staff, the agency had expanded far beyond the limits of a subdivision. And yet for all that, their workload was crushing, and more personnel were required. So it was that in the thirty-fifth year of his reign, Emperor An decreed the formal formation of the Ministry of Integrity and named Sima Jiao as its first Minister. Along with this expansion came an additional duty.

- I would strike that man’s name from our records if I could.

-- Traitor to the cause he may have become, his deeds still laid the foundation for all else.

Throughout the Empire’s history, it has been plagued by the rise of malcontents and spirit cults, practitioners of forms of cultivation more foul than all but the worst of barbarian practices, and other such ills. Many were the tales of whole clans and towns wiped from the map by crazed individuals of high talent who had stumbled across good fortune or the sponsorship of some malign spirit.

- So many talents lost. I weep for what the Empire has missed.

-- While many began with legitimate grievance, those talents who could not restrain themselves once they had a taste of power and revenge became beasts.

--- The Ministry cannot be faulted for those who became twisted. I am proud to have been turned from the path of mindless vengeance and power seeking.

They would emerge, wreak destruction, and die with great difficulty when the provincial duke’s forces came down upon them. Many even tried to set themselves up as petty warlords or proclaimed that they would usurp the Throne itself! Some, in less well run reaches of the Empire, even maintained long-standing “bandit kingdoms,” avoiding being crushed by ducal forces by making themselves inconvenient to attack.

The Ministry of Integrity was the solution to this perennial trouble. They solved the problem not merely through violence, although much is whispered of Minister Sima, who, it is said, ended the greatest of the bandit kingdoms in a single night and slew the mad violet realm Lu Gong, ending his rampage for “vengeance” against the peoples of the Cao clan and freeing the women bound to him. No, the true solution to the problem was the Wise Emperor An’s expansion of the Great Sect system.

Talent for cultivation cannot be fully controlled. Among the high bloodlines of the Empire, average talent is nearly guaranteed, but high talent individuals have always appeared in the strangest of places. It followed, then, that the reason for so many individuals to take a dark course in their life lay in their lack of opportunity. Find the talented and provide them with education and a place in society, and there would be no more petty bandit kings and false emperors.

It fell to the Ministry of Integrity to identify these individuals before their paths could diverge from virtue.

It is troubling to say that many opposed this decree and the opening of the Great Sects to the common born. Although it is understandable that high lords and ladies would not wish their children to mingle with potentially dangerous individuals, it is the duty of the nobility to educate and care for the common man. This duty has been oft neglected, and the problems, Emperor An reasoned, arose from this shirking.

So it fell to the Throne and the Ministry to make up for this shortfall. To reassure the nobility of the Empire, Emperor An assigned his own daughter, Princess Xiang, who had taken up duties in the Ministry, to lead and coordinate the divination teams and surveillance of the first generation of “common talents.”

- Agent Xiang was truly among our best. It is a shame that she cannot be Empress and Minister both.

-- It is her efforts which saved many of my agents from the dark paths they were on before being turned and recruited into the Ministry.

--- I would approve some expansion of this portion of the text. Further support for the Empress’ reforms would be a useful side effect of the document.

Even less popular but which many argued was just as necessary were the reforms within the Celestial Peaks, allowing agents of the Ministry to chastise the families of young noble scions whose unvirtuous and crass behavior damaged the peace and prosperity of the Emperor’s dominion. This portion of the Ministry’s program remains contentious to this day, but the uptick in economic activity in those regions where such behaviors have been curbed shows their efficacy.

- The looks upon the faces of those silk pants when their childish tantrums began to have actual consequences. I will treasure the memories always.

-- I will treasure more the looks of their bellowing sires when they found that their petty tyranny had reached the ears of the Emperor.

--- It would be impolitic to mention further than this, however satisfactory the duty.

Altogether, the Emperor’s programs seem to have met success with only a few minor instances of unacceptable violence. Soon, new baronies were sprouting up across the Empire, taming long fallow lands and bringing yet more wealth and resources to the Throne and the provinces through their taxes. Over the course of Emperor An’s reign, this practice proved immensely valuable in bringing new and talented blood into the fold, and so the voices arrayed against it dwindled. Now, under the rule of Empress Xiang, even further reforms are being considered.

In the current day, the Ministry of Integrity has left much of the chaos and bloodshed behind. As an investigatory agency, they are without peer, seeking out and resolving snarls in the execution of Imperial law. Under the watch of the Ministry, taxes are paid, order is kept, and the integrity of the Empire is upheld.

- A good introduction. Send it back to be workshopped further by the scribes, and prepare for the more formal documentation

-- At your command, Minister.

Excerpt from the first draft of a historical document for public consumption drafted internally by the Ministry of Integrity

Chapter 201-Tournament 11

Ling Qi wasn’t certain what to think of the girl standing next to her. There was something different about Cai Renxiang this morning, and she was not sure that she liked it. She wasn’t referring to the change in look, although it was unsettling after how unchanging the other girl’s appearance had been for the past year.

From the crimson wings formed of folded cloth still splashed across her chest, the dress spirit was still Liming, but it had been obviously altered. It had in some ways been simplified. The wide billowing sleeves were now drawn in, cinched tightly around its wearers wrists, the cut of the robe seemed more boyish, despite the way it clung to Cai Renxiang’s chest and hips tighter than before, and the lower hem ended a few inches above the ground, leaving exposed the white, high-heeled boots Cai Renxiang wore underneath. A long cut up the side showed that the boots rose to her knees when the powder blue under-layer shifted.

Ling Qi glanced again at the other girl’s face. The touch of cosmetics was light but still striking given the previous lack. Rather than playing down her sharp, unforgiving features, it gave her a more imperious and forbidding air. Even her hair had changed. Twin braids held by white ribbons framed her face in the front while the rest spilled down to her lower back in a smooth waterfall, free and unstyled

Ling Qi couldn’t help but notice that Cai Renxiang’s eyes held an unsettling emptiness compared to when they had parted.

Ling Qi turned her attention to the arenas ahead. She couldn’t afford to gawk at the other girl in public. Sun Liling and Shen Hu were already mounting the stairs which led into the first arena, overseen by Sect Head Yuan. He had given a short speech extolling the virtue and strength of the eight disciples to the audience, as well as urging them to give their all now for the honor of their families, the Sect, and the Empire.

Sun Liling wore a cool expression today, strolling into the arena at a casual pace. The simmering anger that Ling Qi had seen in her demeanor yesterday was nowhere to be found. Shen Hu, on the other hand, had an expression equally as passive as it had been yesterday. Yet Ling Qi could not help but notice the more serious set of his shoulders and the other little signs of tension in his frame as the combatants offered polite bows to one other.

“It’s funny. A few days ago, I’d never even heard of ya,” Sun Liling said casually as she straightened and lowered her hands, her bow having been more a nod of acknowledgement.

“I thought the mountain would be a bit too noisy,” Shen Hu replied as the air shimmered. “I like to take things at my own pace.”

“Heh, I guess that’s fair enough,” Sun Liling said, rolling her shoulders in an eye-catching way. “I’m surprised ya didn’t get rusty, just wandering out in the woods.”

“The beasts around here are a little weak,” Shen Hu admitted. “But they can still make good opponents if you handicap yourself,” he continued, falling into a wide defensive stance. “It’s surprising how much of a fight they can put up in that case.”

Sun Liling laughed, not bothering to take a stance herself, but Ling Qi noticed her fingers curling, preparing to grasp the haft of a spear as the terrain solidified around them. “I guess you’re not lacking courage,” she said, a smirk finding its way onto her face. “Gotta say, I still think your training plan is flawed.”

They stood now on the shore of a small lake, only a hundred odd meters across, with a small burbling stream feeding it. The stream passed between them where they stood on the grassy shore, dotted with a handful of trees.

“Probably,” Shen Hu agreed, breathing in deeply as he opened his hands and extended his fingers claw-like. “I won’t be an easy opponent though.”

“You’ve got a good attitude at least,” Sun Liling said idly, subtly shifting her feet.

A thunderclap stirred the faint morning mists shrouding the lake, and the two figures blurred.

Shen Hu’s forward foot dug into the mud, and the rich earth at his feet splattered in his wake as he launched himself forward, bubbling mud and marsh reeds pouring from his shoulders even as glittering diamond claws grew to encase his outstretched fingertips. The crimson princess grinned in the face of the charge, her green eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Blood gushed from her palms, crawling up her limbs to form gauntlet and vambrace even as her terrible, black barbed spear took shape. As her own feet launched her backward, she drew her arm back, and in the blink of an eye, she launched the spear, which screamed through the air like a newly launched arrow.

A great granite slab shimmered into existence in front of Shen Hu. The blurring missile struck its surface and shattered, sending a spider web of hairline fractures across its surface.

... Only it didn’t.

Ling Qi restrained the urge to rub her eyes as the spear simultaneously struck Shen Hu’s shield and warped past it. Its straight arc bent at a sharp angle to shoot past Shen Hu’s defensive domain weapon and dig a bloody line across the wide-eyed boy’s shoulder as he arrested his charge to try to dodge.

As Sun Liling landed lightly on the extended branch of a leafless tree, Ling Qi caught a faint, split second fluttering of her eyes, but any hope that the Sun girl had suffered a setback died as qi flared from the center of her forehead. A thousand rainbow patterned leaves of a vast lotus flower flickered into sight behind her like a mighty banner.

“Tricky,” she said, clicking her tongue as the armor finished forming across her chest and twin skeletal arms grew from beneath her own, clutching jagged blades. “You’ve got a second spirit after all.”

Shen Hu didn’t respond, now fully encased in the hulking form of his earth spirit. With even his head submerged, Shen Hu seemed to be entirely fused with his beast, an impression made all the greater as its limbs swelled, taking on muscular definition and half meter-long spines of black crystal erupted from its back and club-like hands. Lanhua’s footfalls shook the earth as the two thundered toward the Sun princess.

Lanhua was not content merely charging though. The tree Sun Liling had landed on tilted drunkenly, the soil at its roots softening, and grasping muddy hands rose to clutch at the girl’s limbs.

Sun Liling laughed, launching herself from the branch, her voice distorted, reverberating within the fanged maw of the three-faced demonic helm that now covered her head. “You’ve made another mistake!” she exclaimed, bloody mist erupting from channels all across her armor as she twirled through the air, avoiding the grasping hands and launching spikes of crystal.

Ling Qi felt it then, a ripple of disquieting qi that spread outward from the now fallen tree that Sun Liling had stood upon. Bright colored flowers bloomed from now swiftly rotting bark of the tree and spread outward, devouring grass and soil alike in a multichromatic carpet. It reached Lanhua’s thick, trunk-like feet, despite the beast’s alarmed step backward.

She winced as the beast, who had suffered everything she had rained on it in near silence, let out a warbling scream, a great gash of a mouth opening across its upper body and hungry rootlets digging into its muddy flesh. New flowers bloomed, crawling swiftly up the earthen pillars of the beast’s legs.

Lanhua tore its feet from the writhing ground, leaving behind head-sized chunks of mud in the grasp of the hungry rootlets. It wasn’t enough to escape. Already, new blooms of vibrant green were swelling with cancerous life across the beast’s pockmarked legs.

As if to add insult to injury, a blurred, six-armed form fell on the beleaguered spirit from above. A barbed spear dug into the mud, whipping and darting in a red blur, carving great furrows to seek the flesh beneath, and a mighty arm, raised to swat away the foe, fell with a crash to the earth, cleaved from its body with a single stroke of a mighty black bladed axe. Lanhua’s torso bubbled then, and Shen Hu emerged, gleaming crystal talons raised, only to crash against two upraised curved blades dripping with sizzling sanguine fluid.

Still, the weight of the clash forced Sun Liling away from the thrashing Lanhua, whose wet, bubbling screams had not stopped. The bright colored growths blooming across the spirit’s body wriggled and writhed, spreading with impossible speed, and even as she watched, the dusky skinned Dharitri bloomed from the other spirit’s back, woody stems and soft roots alike flowing together to form the bare limbs of inhuman beauty. The jungle spirit’s beatific smile didn’t change despite the other spirit’s wailing.

Lanhua dissolved then, mud and reed disintegrating back into earthy qi that flowed into the scowling Shen Hu’s navel. He stood at the ready in a vast field of flowers now, flanked on one side by the near naked Dharitri and on the other by Sun Liling.

The princess’ armor had evolved. She still held her twisted, thorny spear easily in her two true arms, but the curved blades held in the false limbs below had grown smoother, more refined, and longer. A third pair of false arms, thick with muscle, sprouted from above her natural limbs. The right upper arm held the massive curve-bladed black axe which had taken Lanhua’s arm so easily while the left upper arm was empty, its hand held near her face, palm out and fingers straight as if in prayer.

“That was unnecessary,” Shen Hu said flatly, ignoring the bloody cut on his shoulder.

“Well, what can ya expect?” Sun Liling’s reverberating voice answered. “Waving a meal like that in front of my poor spirit’s face?”

The boy’s lips were set in a thin line as he turned on his heel and charged, crystal claws outstretched toward Sun Liling’s smiling spirit. Sun Liling blurred, but the slab of gray rock that was Shen Hu’s domain weapon shimmered into existence, blocking her path with a crash. Concern never appeared on the Dharitri’s features as black claws slashed through the space where her head had been. The curvaceous creature’s spine bent, silken garments fluttering as she escaped the path of Shen Hu’s attacks, leaving him to catch only a few strands of dark hair.

The air shimmered with spreading pollen as the spirit fell back before him, still smiling gently, and when next Shen Hu’s crystal claws rose, they met twisted talons of thorn and wood, scoring deep wounds that wept glistening sap. The sound of shattering stone heralded the end of his advantage, and Sun Liling fell upon him like a crimson meteor. Commendably, he held under her initial assault.

But for all of his ability, Shen Hu was losing. Even as black greaves formed over his legs in a desperate attempt to even the number of limbs, wounds opened across his arms and chest. Sun Liling was overwhelming in her speed and strength, and worst still, Ling Qi could feel more power flooding into the demonic girl, powered by the melodic voice of the jungle spirit Dharitri, who, in the wake of her partner’s assault, had leapt back, escaping the battle. Her limbs were already swaying gracefully through the movements of an eye-catching dance even as her rich voice rose in a foreign song.

Ling Qi felt a spike of irritation.

The battle was not in question by this point. Unable to break her guard nor get away, Shen Hu had no path to victory. Sun Liling danced around him, the staggering complexity of her assault impossible to follow. It was to Shen Hu’s credit that the battle still lasted some time from then.

“The winner of the day’s first round is Sun Liling by right of knockout,” Sect Head Yuan announced over the cheers of the crowd as Shen Hu slumped to the ground, dissolving into glittering lights along with the terrain.

Ling Qi met the eyes of the princess as the red-haired girl hopped down from the raised arena, her monstrous armor and cruel armaments dissolving like so much smoke. There was no anger there, nor elation from victory despite the easy smile on her lips, only stony determination. The moment didn’t linger as Sun Liling returned to her place at the far end of the line, and Ling Qi was called forward along with her opponent.

She marched silently with practised poise to the arena alongside the boy who had once been a commoner like her without giving him more than a glance. Some trace of a thuggish swagger remained in his steps, but it seemed that even he had learned to move with more dignity. Soon enough, they split apart, moving to face one another from opposite sides of the arena.

“You know, it’s funny,” the scarred boy commented, idly cracking his knuckles. “We’ve been on opposite sides of a conflict, but I don’t think we’ve ever faced each other directly.”

“Is that so,” Ling Qi said, standing ready with her hands at her sides, affecting an attitude similar to that of her best friend.

“Yeah,” Ji Rong said evenly. “Ya know why I never tried to talk to you back at the beginning?”

“I couldn’t guess, Baron Ji,” she said blandly. “I am sure you were very busy.”

He grimaced, giving her a sour look. “Tch,” he scoffed, not otherwise responding to her words. “I thought I had you pegged. I’d seen people like you before.”

“Do share your insights,” she said as the formations began to activate, shrouding them in shimmering lights.

He returned her flat look. “You were a rat,” he said. “Too weak to fight, and too scared to join up with anyone. You were the kinda person who’d trip a friend up if it meant getting a few more seconds of a lead on the guard.”

“How rude,” she said coldly, feeling stung despite herself. He wasn’t wrong after all. “Do you think I haven’t seen your type before, Ji Rong?” she asked. “Swaggering bullies who get their friends together to pretend at authority, so they can feel like they control something? How many streets did your gang claim as its fief?”

“Not very many,” Ji Rong said with a lopsided smirk that carried a note of bitter nostalgia. “Xizhou is barely a city.”

“Did you have a point then?” Ling Qi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not sure, if I’m bein’ honest.” Ji Rong cracked his neck as the lights began to coalesce into solid terrain. “Guess I’m just curious what made you change.”

“You are much less angry than I was expecting,” Ling Qi said instead.

“Oh, I’m still pretty pissed,” Ji Rong admitted. “We’re enemies, and you’re just as cruel as the rest of your lot. But you’re not that big idiot Gan.” He met her gaze steadily. “If that jackass who’s been tutoring me made one thing stick, it’s that I can’t lose my temper against an enemy who might be stronger than me.”

Ling Qi frowned, electing to ignore the last part of his statement as gratifying as it was. “I don’t think your group has any right to call us cruel.”

Ji Rong snorted, giving her an incredulous look. “Right. Tell that to the poor sods who had the misfortune to cross ‘Miss’ Bai’s path,” he drawled, spitting the term of ostensible respect. “The reason you get to pretend to be better is ‘cause you won. Just like everyone else.”

“Only one side was fighting for something besides their own pride,” Ling Qi replied as the shape of the terrain solidified around them. They stood at the top of a large hill in a lightly wooded scrubland, the sky bright with the colors of sunset. “But this conversation is pointless, isn’t it?”

‘Suppose so,” Ji Rong agreed, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as he raised his fists into a guard stance. “Gonna break your face now,” he said cockily, his usual demeanor returning.

Ling Qi scoffed, and thunder boomed.

Chapter 202-Tournament 12

Her flute formed in her right hand, and Zhengui began to take shape in front of her, a dark shadow in the grass. Even as she raised her hand to bring her flute to her lips though, she found herself staring point blank at the knuckles of Ji Rong’s right hand, with thick rings of bronze crackling with electricity adorning them. She had a bare instant to flood vibrant wood qi through her spine and activate Ten Ring Defense before it crashed into her nose.

Despite moving with the force of the blow, reducing the impact, stars exploded in her vision. Ling Qi felt something in her face snap. She tasted blood on her lips as she retreated, avoiding the follow-up blow by leaping over it, her gown fluttering in the wind as she landed on the far side of the now solid Zhengui.

Above them, their clash was reenacted, a wailing sword with a spiralling blade meeting a flashing golden mirror in a cacophony of noise and light.

How long had it been since her nose had been broken? The idle thought scurried across her thoughts as she began to play, suppressing the twitching in her muscles and nerves from the lightning flooding her body. Ji Rong had chipped her front teeth as well, she thought, adjusting her playing for the slight change.

Zhengui cried out in fury as her melody rolled over the battlefield, and superheated ash mingled with shadow-haunted mist. The cherry red embers greeted her like an old friend, and the cool, slick feeling of Sixiang’s moon-aligned qi quelled the lightning seizing her muscles.

It wasn’t enough. Ji Rong was immediately back in her face, the scent of his burning sandals reaching her nose as he landed on top of Zhengui’s shell. A quick jab snapped Zhen’s head back and away while his follow-up blow caught her in the shoulder, his fist shrouded in blinding actinic light.

She had to fight against her own muscles as they tried to become rigid with the voltage flooding through them until Sixiang could act, and only the protection of Deepwood Vitality and her qi armor prevented the damage from being worse. Yet as she met her enemy’s eyes in the moment before Ji Rong leaped away to avoid Zhengui’s retaliation, she saw surprise there. He had been hoping to overwhelm her entirely with his initial blows; he hadn’t expected her toughness.

So it was with a bloody smile that she summoned a qi card into her hand in preparation. She didn’t unleash her worm constructs. Yet.

She had another surprise first. Phantasmagoria of Lunar Revelry, the art she had gained from her performance under the Dreaming Moon, was quite potent. This match was well suited for its debut.

Ling Qi twirled, limbs swaying to an unheard tune, and flooded the field with laughing, dancing phantoms. A riot of color and light spilled from her, casting the sunset hill in lurid color as fairies danced in the sky and elfin figures reveled on the ground. At the same time, she activated the Hundred Ring’s Armament. Rippling green light spilled across her limbs and coalesced the faint vital aura into something more solid.

The revelers danced through the mist and the ash, cups in their hands and raucous songs on their lips, and Ling Qi faded back among them, just one more dancing figure.

Ji Rong navigated the tittering, grasping figures with the light of heaven burning in his eyes. He was dogged in his pursuit. He crashed rudely through the crowd, bowling over shrieking phantoms, punching away shadowy fangs, and shrugging off grasping hands. Even as Ling Qi danced away, her hands and feet trailing into shadow, his eyes remained on her. His feet couldn’t keep up.

She saw the moment of realisation in the grimace that appeared on his scarred face, the song of her flying sword rising to a fevered shriek and denting his mirror. She felt the precipitous drop in his qi, and braced herself even as thunder boomed and Ji Rong’s body became an arc of lightning.

He appeared in front of her with a furious snarl of ozone and plasma, embers and sparks burning his hair, his fist already cocked back for a punch. Ling Qi threw up her arm to block. Their limbs met with the crack of a millenial tree struck by heaven’s fury, and though her arm trembled and her feet were driven back through the dirt, gauging furrows in the ground, she held. The surprise in his eyes was worth the bruise she could already feel forming across most of her forearm.

The qi card in her hand flashed, and Ji Rong’s eyes widened further as she sprung her trap. A hissing worm, slimy and grey, sprang from her sleeve. Its open, toothy maw let out a whistling shriek even as he slapped it away from his face. But there was far more than one. The earth under his feet boiled with slime-slick bodies. Muscular coils wrapped around his ankles, and circular maws dripping acid spit gnawed at his boots.

Ling Qi was already vanishing back into the crowd of revelers and phantoms, circling back to Zhengui. Zhengui, stamping forward with all the limited speed his tubby legs could muster, saw his opportunity. Just as Ji Rong tore one leg free of the writhing worms under his feet, a grasping green rootlet sprang from the ground and coiled around it. A dozen more followed, and Ji Rong let out a shout of frustration.

Ling Qi smiled thinly as Zhengui’s warm ash settled on her shoulders like grey snow. It burned green, and her little brother’s qi spread through her channels. Bruises faded, and the trickle of blood from her nose dried up. If there was one thing her former life had taught her, it was how to run. If there was one thing she had learned in the Sect, it was stubbornness.

But Ji Rong was strong. With a roar, he tore his feet from the grasp of worms and roots alike and launched himself after her. He flew through the air, lightning crackling in the air, and his foot drove Gui’s head into the dirt. His fist lashed out for Ling Qi.

It struck only a shadow, a laughing wraith that broke apart into glittering lunar moths. He caught Zhen’s striking fangs on his forearms, and magmatic venom sizzled as fangs skittered across his skin.

From within the shifting revel, Ling Qi watched, dancing with the phantoms, her resplendent gown as good as camouflage among its shifting colors. She flicked her wrist, and another qi card appeared between her fingers. It flashed, and again, worms emerged to harry Ji Rong. They gnawed at his feet, leaving ugly cuts and burns on his skin. Rootlets grabbed at his wrists as he punched Zhengui over and over in frustration, lightning-clad fists leaving nigh invisible fractures in his shell, driving him back bit by bit.

Ji Rong suffered for it though. Shadowy phantoms in the mist emerged from between laughing dancers, and their claws drew lines of blood and shredded his sleeves. The dancers grasped his hands, calling him to dance, and their touch drew in his qi, draining away life. They would dance him to death if they could, lunatic madness given form.

With each moment, attacked from a dozen angles, Ji Rong’s movements grew just a touch weaker, just a touch slower.

Overhead, a mirror flashed. It drew Ling Qi’s eyes upward as her singing sword spun away with a wail, trailing mist from the nova of golden light. Ji Rong’s domain weapon glowed with the light of the sun and burst into a thousand glittering fragments. She saw power infuse him, and the crackle of lightning drowned out the singers of the revel. Ling Qi was already moving, but it wasn’t enough.

A fist struck her in the gut like a thunderbolt, and she felt a burn as lightning erupted from her back, tearing a line through the earth behind her, shredding revelers into laughing figments. She saw Ji Rong then. His eyes burning with the blue light of lightning and hair spiking up with static, the sheer force of his unleashed spirit sent phantoms shying back with the force of the pressure coming off of him. A burning glob of venom from Zhen spattered across his back to no avail.

Ling Qi tasted blood. She felt a weakness in her knees as the lightning coursed through her spine, barely kept from seizing her muscles by Sixiang’s dispersing qi. She saw the triumph in his eyes, and resentment bubbled up.

She could hit hard too.

This time, the song she played was not lilting and melancholy. It was harsh and fierce, the scream of a blizzard in the dead of winter. Ji Rong barely had time to react, so close was he when the first note lashed his skin, freezing a line of blackened flesh across his bare chest.

Ji Rong fell back, raising his arms over his face as she sang, and winter came. Lightning sparked and died as the endless cold drank greedily from its energy. Heat fled, sound died, and snow fell. She saw the black mark on his chest spread and then crack, weeping half-frozen blood.

The worms he had left behind emerged from the dirt. The laughing phantoms closed in.

Thunder boomed again, and he lashed out, but his fists struck naught but air and phantoms, and Ling Qi vanished further into the revel. A card flashed, the worms came again. A beam of light erupted from his outstretched fingers, zig-zagging through the mist and confusion to strike her, but she blocked it with a raised arm. She felt something crack.

The phantom dancers whirled him away, laughing and giggling, even as worms crawled up his pant legs. With a snarl, he tore one arm free, and lightning burned a dancer to ash. He whirled, his eyes wild as he searched for her, only to be met by a spatter of Zhen’s venom. He raised his hands to block, and another dancer took him.

Ling Qi’s singing blade hummed eerily as it flew and circled him, no longer held back by his mirror. Each pulse of its tune struck him like a physical blow, bruising his flesh. Winter sang, and the cold lashed him.

In the center of the revel, surrounded by mist and phantoms and cold, Ji Rong at last floundered. The dancers took his hands again, and this time, he didn’t escape.

The moment that Ling Qi felt his qi cease resisting her, her trembling legs collapsed under her, bringing her down to one knee. Taking a shuddering breath, Ling Qi forced herself to straighten up as the terrain began to fade.

Her left arm was broken, a hairline fracture that sent sharp pain with every movement. She could taste blood in her mouth, and a terrible burn scarred her stomach and back. But she had won.

She felt a foreign yet familiar qi tugging at her own then. In its soft yet insistent touch, she could feel the presence of Xin. Ling Qi allowed her eyes to drift closed and accepted the pulling sensation tugging at her meridians.

Staying behind while injured would likely just distract Meizhen anyway. Her friend did always get so agitated when she was hurt. By the time she had completed that thought, she could feel the pain fading, and her awareness growing fuzzy. Vaguely, she felt Zhengui returning to her, his warmth offering comfort as she drifted.

She won, and she could allow herself a little pride for that.

With that thought, her consciousness faded.

***

“Hmph. So she is not entirely a fool then.”

Ling Qi’s eyes snapped open as the familiar irritable and harried voice of an old man reached her ears. Blinking, she tried to reorient herself, old instincts almost making her leap back up in a crouch. However, she found her limbs heavy and her muscles slow to obey. She was lying down in a soft bed under the light of a paper lantern shining with a soft gray light. As she watched, the light pulsed briefly, sending the shadows cast by the characters painted on its sides dancing across the room.

“... Elder Jiao?” she asked fuzzily, peering at the shadowed figure standing at the foot of her bed. She felt a cool touch on her hand then and looked to her left to see Xin, seated comfortably on a chair beside her bed. The moon spirit smiled at her attention.

“Sturdy enough not to go into shock without her qi holding the damaged area together. The Lantern will be enough,” the old man said in a clipped tone, not looking at her but instead, scribbling a note in the folio in his hands. “The rest is disciple work.” Xin shot him a sour look as he turned away.

Ling Qi glanced up at the moon spirit’s face then Elder Jiao’s back, which was already beginning to lose corporeality. “Elder Jiao. Sir. I wanted to thank you for your offer, even if I couldn’t take it.” She had not had a chance to speak with Xin, let alone the elder, since she had made her choice; she could not let this opportunity to settle things pass.

His shimmering outline paused in its fading and grew solid once more as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. “I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about, girl. Perhaps that boy knocked something loose with his fisticuffs?” he asked with a sneer. “But, perhaps as your esteemed elder, I might offer some advice on your chosen career.”

Ling Qi blinked, taken back by the bitterness in the elder’s expression. “... I would be most thankful, sir.” She glanced at Xin, whose smile had faded.

“I know much of reformers, and you have chosen a miserable path,” he said. “There is neither happiness nor satisfaction to be found as a shadow. Be mindful in choosing what you are forced to discard on the roadside of the Way.” He had faded away by the time his last words echoed in the small stone room.

“He wasn’t angry at me,” Ling Qi said, half to herself, half to Xin, who remained at her bedside, holding her hand.

“He was not,” the spirit said sadly. “Excuse him. These past weeks have been stressful. When the things we retired to leave behind come to our doorstep, it is a most vexing experience.”

With her thoughts as fuzzy as they were, she wasn’t quite sure what Xin was talking about. Did she just mean all the nobles? “I understand,” she replied anyway.

“Does she?” Xin asked lightly, glancing at a point about two centimeters above her eyes.

“She’s still a little concussed, Auntie, and Uncle’s toy isn’t helping,” Sixiang answered helpfully. “Sorry I wasn’t more helpful back there,” they added apologetically to Ling Qi. “That flashy guy’s tricks weren’t something I could do much about.”

“S’fine,” Ling Qi mumbled, looking up at the ceiling. “Where’s Zhengui?”

“Sleeping,” Xin answered. “Letting excitable children romp around a patient is not the best idea,” she said with a slight smile.

Ling Qi blinked drowsily. That was right. She could feel him, a little napping ball of warmth. It was just hard to concentrate. “I really am sorry,” Ling Qi said after a moment, looking up to meet Xin’s eyes. “No one would tell me anything about the Inner Sect, and I wanted to be able to meet Meizhen still, and... and Cai Renxiang’s not a bad person, you know? She really means what she says, and the… the opportunity...” She was babbling, but it was hard to stop.

Xin looked sad but not reproachful. “Hush, dear. You need not explain things to me.” She sighed. “This has been a most unusual year, and not wholly in a good way. Our treatment of the Outer Sect has been more hands-off in recent years than we might like.” Her silver eyes gleamed oddly in the dull light of the lantern. “In exchange for certain favours.”

Her blurry thoughts couldn’t help but turn to a certain terrifying woman. “Is that why Elder Jiao is so angry?”

“He has had his fill of scheming, that husband of mine,” Xin replied with a musical laugh. “But no more of such things. You’ve done very well.”

Even in her state, Ling Qi could tell when a subject was being gently closed. “Thank you. I couldn’t have come so far without you and your sisters.”

“Perhaps, or maybe another spirit might have snatched you up,” Xin said lightly. “Might I add that I found it adorable when you chose to take my greater self as a patron for my sake?”

“I didn’t…” Ling Qi denied, color rising on her cheeks. “Not just for that,” she mumbled.

“Even if you do not fit us very well just yet, it is never wrong to cultivate curiosity,” Xin said. “And the seeds are there. Did your pulse not quicken, at least a little, when you reached the bottom of the tomb?”

Ling Qi nodded, thinking back to that day. She had never been able to afford curiosity before in Tonghou. She couldn’t afford much of anything beyond immediate gain.

“There you go then,” Xin said with satisfaction. “Nurture the wonder of discovery, and you might grow to be a scholar yet.” She grimaced then, looking up. “Ah… and I need to go. The next patient is arriving soon.”

“Goodbye, Xin,” whispered Ling Qi.

“Farewell for now, Ling Qi,” the moon spirit replied. “You are not leaving the Argent Peak Sect just yet.”

She vanished in a glimmer of starlight, and Ling Qi was left to drift off under the drowsy light of the lantern.

Chapter 203-Tournament 13

Failure tasted like the mud of the village gutters, Gan Guangli thought, looking down upon the arena.

He had known this since he was but a youth, only as high as his weary mother’s knee. It was a taste he had grown used to in those days. In this world, those who stood for justice and protecting the weak often found it their only reward. His father had learned that, and so had he. His stubbornness had certainly earned him enough beatings by peers and adults alike in those days.

So why did it taste so foul now? Was it because he had disappointed the one person who had seen his value? Or perhaps it was because he knew it was his own fault? A thousand explanations whirled in his mind, but they were all so much useless chaff. A man should not make excuses for his failure.

Father had taught him that before alcohol consumed him.

So Gan Guangli could only promise to be better, to meet the expectations of his liege and her mother, no matter how impossible his redemptive task would be. He would need to stand on his own and to succeed at what he had so fumbled doing this year. He would have to become more than a soldier playing at command. The path of the soldier was an honorable one, but it was not one that could carry him at Lady Cai’s side.

Gan Guangli let out a sigh, his wide shoulders rising and falling as he turned his attention to the stages below. At least his mistress would have Ling Qi. For all her habitual thoughtlessness and bouts of whimsy, Ling Qi had a cunning to her and the resolve to be a blade in Lady Cai’s hand.

Deep shame still bubbled in his stomach when he remembered the flicker of disappointment he had glimpsed on his lady’s face when she had asked Ling Qi to leave them alone.

Gan Guangli pushed that memory away for the moment, down with the others that formed the foundation of his resolve. He should carve this match into his memory. For all that Kang Zihao would be in the Inner Sect, the honorless cur would probably be using his connections to cause him a great deal of trouble in the next year.

He laughed aloud, startling the other Outer disciples seated around him. Was that not a satisfying thought? That the scion of Kang had no chance of victory? He had disliked that young man since the moment he had lain eyes upon him.

He could respect Ji Rong after a fashion, recognizing him as a dark mirror. It would be arrogance to think that such resentment could not have been born in his own heart. Even Lu Feng was respectable in his way, underhanded lout that he was.

Kang Zihao though… In his handsome face, Gan Guangli saw everything he despised. He had no honor, only a blind and mindless loyalty to the appearance of decorum and titles with no thought for who held them. He discarded his subordinates as easily as one would throw aside trash. So with another boisterous laugh, Gan Guangli leaned forward a smile on his face to observe what was to come.

Miss Bai was as resplendent as always, clad in whites and soft blues that leant her an air of phantasmal beauty. Her striking eyes gazed impassively upon her foe as a queen might regard a mongrel sniffing at the hem of her gown.

Kang was armored in gleaming silver, presenting as always the appearance of a noble hero taken straight from the pages of the classics. Gan Guangli’s grin stretched wider. It would be truly satisfying to see that shell cracked.

“Do you have no words for me?” Miss Bai said softly as the stage began to activate, shrouding them in mist. “Where are your denouncements now, son of Kang? Do you only have taunts for a woman who can barely walk?”

Kang Zihao looked down his nose at the shorter girl facing him, a touch of a sneer on his handsome features. “There is no purpose for words at this juncture,” he replied haughtily. Gan Guangli heard the tremor in his voice nonetheless.

“I suppose you are right,” Miss Bai said thoughtfully as a radiant river valley took shape around them, the gurgling of the wide, shallow river off to her right almost hiding her quiet words. “I really should cleave closer to tradition, should I not?”

Kang Zihao grit his teeth but did not reply. A few moments later, thunder boomed, and the match began.

A gleaming spear spun into existence in Kang Zihao’s hand, and twin canine forms burst from the air at his side, snarling and snapping. One was the white-furred hound that the boy had at his side from the year’s beginning, grown now to stand almost a full meter at the shoulder. The other was a wolf, shaggy and wild, frost and rime coating its blue-grey fur. The second beast stood almost as tall as Kang’s shoulder.

Bai Meizhen took a single step forward, shimmering green scales flashing in the grass at her feet.

The dog and the wolf burst into motion, dashing in opposite directions to circle and flank the young lady of Bai. Kang Zihao spun his spear into a guard position, and a blazing white shield appeared in his other hand, held forward as a bulwark as if against an incoming avalanche. Potent, mountainous qi crackled through his limbs, and even at this distance, Gan Guangli could feel the sudden ‘weight’.

Bai Meizhen took a second step, and dark water rippled around her shoulders, casting her face in shadow.

Twin mountains of canine bulk howled as their pounding feet tore up the remaining distance, their jaws open as if to devour the advancing maiden. Kang Zihao’s shout thundered as his instep sent a spider web of cracks through the soft earth, and he brought his spear forward, its point alight with blazing qi that howled as it shot toward Bai Meizhen, leaving a blinding trail through the air behind it.

Bai Meizhen took a third step. Her golden eyes narrowed, and she raised her hand, her cloak of abyssal water forming around her.

Blazing light struck black water and screamed, creating an explosion of steam that Kang’s beasts dived eagerly into.

“Heel.”

Her cold voice rang out, and in an instant, a terrible cold pall fell over the brightly lit scene. Twin yelps of canine distress sounded from within the dissipating cloud as it cleared to reveal Bai Meizhen, standing still, her shadow pooled at her feet like a lake of ink. Her eyes blazed from the shadow of her liquid hood, and even from here, Gan Guangli felt sweat break out on his brow and his heart begin to beat erratically.

The dog and the wolf were far less insulated. They crashed to the ground, eyes rolling in their sockets and froth leaking from their mouths. The smaller of the two let out a whimper as green coils emerged from the grass in a flash, and hungry fangs sunk into its throat. Bai Meizhen’s cousin coiled around the thrashing dog in mere moments, and Gan Guangli knew that it would not be getting up again in this fight.

The wolf was, if anything, less lucky. Bai Meizhen’s heel ground into its throat, and a liquid shadow crawled across its form, bringing strangled yelps from the beast’s throat. Bai Meizhen’s gaze remained fixed on Kang, who stood in place, his shield held out as another layer of defensive qi shimmered into place, spreading from the outward edge of his shield.

“How useless,” Bai Meizhen said, removing her foot from the beast’s throat as her shadow engulfed it. “Just what do you intend to protect with that shield, Kang Zihao?”

He did not answer, only tightening his stance.

Bai Meizhen took a fourth step, and it crossed thirty meters in an instant. Her ribbon blades lashed out, the metal strips extended by toxic purple fluid. Kang Zihao batted them aside, and once again, his spear thrust out in a blur, launching three fiery lances toward Miss Bai.

She continued forward, twirling to avoid the first two and swept aside the third with a sweep of her mantle and a hissing burst of steam. The fangs of her weapon came again, whipping in from impossible angles, and Kang Zihao stood strong, his spinning spear and flashing shield knocking away the virulent tendrils that sought his flesh.

Bai Meizhen blurred again, closing the rest of the distance. Although he stood taller than the pale girl, Kang Zihao seemed miniscule in the shadow she cast. The whipping blades returned, twice as fast, and this time, one scored the shoulder of his armor, leaving a bubbling, hissing scar in the metal that revealed the padding beneath, blackening from the venom. Barehanded, Bai Meizhen parried the spear strikes that came in return, splashing water sounding from the points of impact.

Again and again, her blades twisted and hissed through the air, scoring petty wounds, stripping away his gleaming armor piece by piece until it hung from him in tatters and fragments and brackish blood stained his clothing.

Finally, trembling limbs raised a shield a moment too slow. Hungry blades carved open his upper arm, and Kang Zihao’s bulwark dropped from twitching, nerveless fingers. A pale hand darted in to seize him by the throat.

He let out a strangled scream, the spear falling from his other hand as veins of red spread from his neck.

“Still no more than a delay. As expected,” Bai Meizhen said coldly, her voice distorted by the veil of water that rose to defend her fair face from Kang’s desperate strikes.

His struggles ceased shortly thereafter, and the scion of Kang crumbled onto the grass, already dissolving into mist as Bai Meizhen released him.

Chapter 204-Tournament 14

Slowly, Ling Qi found consciousness returning to her, the foggy logic of dreams segueing into the solidity of waking. She didn’t have long to contemplate her dreams.

<Big Sister is awake!> Zhengui’s excited thoughts blasted away the remnants of sleep. <Did you see it, Big Sister! I caught him! I did! Even after he kicked me!>

<I saw,> Ling Qi thought groggily. An immaterial nudge from Sixiang brought her to awareness of the other presence in her room. <You did great, little brother. Just give me a moment.>

Opening her eyes, she looked to the side, her eyes drawn by the light shining down on her face. Cai Renxiang looked back at her, expression neutral. The girl was seated at her bedside, hands folded neatly in her lap. “I see the medical apprentice’s estimates were correct,” she said.

“My apologies for not offering the proper respect,” Ling Qi responded, peering up at the other girl. That unsettling emptiness remained, but it seemed lesser. Perhaps that was merely wishful thinking though. “Your own match went well then?”

“You are excused,” Cai Renxiang said. “My duel with the Gu daughter was completed honorably with my victory.”

Ling Qi paused, an awkward silence forming between them. “Lady Cai,” she began, glancing around the empty room. “Are you well?”

The girl’s gaze sharpened, her brows drawing together as she frowned. “Is it so obvious?”

“Perhaps not to everyone,” Ling Qi replied carefully. “You seem troubled.”

Her liege’s expression twisted into a grimace. “No doubt Mother has already planned for my showing of distress,” she muttered, more to herself than Ling Qi. “I can only hope that she does not see it as meriting punishment regardless.”

Ling Qi looked away, feeling a twisting in her stomach. That helpless feeling. She hated it, but there was nothing she could do for the other girl in this situation. “I do not think you were lacking in composure,” she posited, looking back. “You said your match went well?”

“I granted Gu Xiulan the appropriate mercy for a lower ranked potential ally, and she understood the situation,” Cai answered, her expression evening out. “As I had been instructed.”

Ling Qi felt some of her worry drop away. “I believe you should be fine. It was only my familiarity and proximity which allowed me to see your mood.”

The other girl nodded stiffly. “I see. I suppose there is no purpose in fretting now. In any case, I wished to ensure you were well. You have done honor to my name and yours today.”

Ling Qi’s lips twitched upward in the ghost of a smile. “You are too kind, Lady Cai. I only performed as expected.”

To her relief, the corner of the heiress’ lips quirked up as well. “Quite so. A mere ruffian could hardly be expected to keep up with your dance.”

Despite the cheer in her expression, Ling Qi did not feel very happy. Clear of distractions, she had finally understood why the look in the girl’s eyes had unsettled her. It was a look she remembered well from her earlier life, looking on bruised and downcast faces, one that she had feared that she would also wear one day. It was wrong for Cai Renxiang to look like that.

Pushing those dismal thoughts away, Ling Qi continued smiling, but she could tell that Cai had noticed her troubled thoughts. “I am glad I did not fail to live up to your expectations, Lady Cai.”

“Yes,” the heiress replied, giving her a searching look. “My expectations,” she said. Her frown returned, and with it, that unsettling hurt. “On the morrow, you should know that it is acceptable for you to surrender once the princess has struck you a solid blow.”

Ling Qi blinked, surprised at the almost unnoticeable edge of concern in Cai’s voice. When she smiled, it was more genuine this time. “Thank you, Lady Cai. But I intend to continue until I am unable.”

Cai Renxiang closed her eyes for a moment. “You must wish to see Bai Meizhen savage me.”

“I am a big girl,” Ling Qi replied with an almost petulant huff. “Bai Meizhen will understand my resolve.”

“I suppose she might, at that.” Cai Renxiang shook her head. “Very well. I will not gainsay you on this.”

“I don’t want her to win,” Ling Qi admitted. “Even if I can’t beat her. Every trick she uses on me is one that she cannot surprise either of you with.”

“I see,” the other girl replied. “Then I commend you on your resolve. You have no obligations to me tonight, so feel free to rest as you need.”

“I am still feeling sluggish.” Ling Qi sighed. Her ribs which had been broken, still felt numb and her whole midsection tingly. “Are any of my other friends here?” she asked, only to wince at her slip.

Cai Renxiang did not respond to it, her expression not changing, but the light radiating from her shifted, sending the shadows in the room dancing. “Gu Xiulan is recovering as you are. The other two girls went to attend the ceremony for the winners of the production tournament.”

Of course Meizhen couldn’t openly visit her, Ling Qi thought a touch bitterly. Her dark thoughts were banished by the feeling of Zhengui’s warmth in her thoughts, her little brother snuggling close at the feel of her discomfort. “Are there any events I should know about tonight?”

“You are free of obligation, as I said,” Cai Renxiang repeated. “If you wish it however, there will be an event allowing our seniors in the Inner Sect to meet and mingle with us. There will be another post-tournament after the rankings have been announced.”

Ling Qi hummed. In truth, she wasn’t looking forward to another social event, and she had not gotten to cultivate in days. There was not enough time for a proper session, but perhaps in meditating on her matches thus far, she could refine her techniques, if only a little. Her match with Sun Liling loomed.

“I will leave you to your choice,” her liege said, standing up with a rustle of cloth. Smoothing her gown, she moved toward the door. “Be well, Ling Qi.”

“You as well, my lady,” Ling Qi replied, watching the girl go. “... And hang in there. The tournament is coming to an end soon.”

Cai Renxiang paused at the door, looking back. “As you say,” she replied, her voice stiff and a touch awkward.

Then she was gone, and Ling Qi was left to her thoughts.

Ling Qi let her eyes drift shut, relaxing into the comfortable softness of the bed beneath her. She had been doing her duty thus far, meeting people, attending events, and acting like a proper lady or something close anyway.

<You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve held up pretty well,> Sixiang teased.

<Yes! Big Sister is great!> Zhengui agreed, though it was clear he didn’t really understand what she was thinking about.

Ling Qi let out a small laugh under her breath. “The point is, I think I’ve earned an afternoon off,” she said aloud. “No one can blame me for getting a little cultivation in.”

<Sure,> Sixiang said, amused. <You shut-in.>

Ling Qi let out a snort. “Quiet, you. I’m diligent is all.”

<Zhengui will cultivate too, so he can protect Big Sister tomorrow!> her little brother cut in excitedly.

Ling Qi did her best to mask the spike of worry at the thought, instead surrounding the young spirit with a feeling of encouragement. No matter what, they were going to be going through a lot of pain tomorrow.

<I’ll leave you two workaholics to it,> Sixiang said faintly, fading back into the back of her thoughts.

Giving only a slight nod in response, Ling Qi turned her mind inward toward the flows of her qi and the cycles of energy within her body. Slowly, awareness of the outside world faded away, sequestered to a corner of her thoughts, and taking with it, her sense of time. It was no wonder that older cultivators could vanish into meditation for years, decades, or even centuries. Even back in the second realm, hours could vanish in a flash and whole days could go by if she weren’t careful. She suspected that the feeling of distorted time would only grow with her cultivation. These thoughts were but distractions though.

She began to cycle the energy in her dantian, sending her thoughts racing along her opened meridians with the flow of her spirit. She could feel the marks left by her injuries, faded by the power of the Sect’s medicine, a jagged feeling, where her ribs had fractured, and a messy snarl in her abdomen where lightning had surged through her still fragile organs.

She understood now why Elder Jiao had mentioned the possibility of her going into shock. Her stomach and viscera had received ruinous electrical burns, and although her reflexive qi flows had allowed the damage to be ignored, it would have grown worse with time. She might have been unconscious for the rest of the day.

Thinking of her wounds turned her thoughts to her defense and her actions in her last fight. She had stood her ground against Ji Rong, accepting blows instead of retreating and dodging, as was usual for her, changing her tempo in an effort to throw off whatever counters he might have devised to her usual flight tactics.

Thousand Ring Fortress had allowed her to do so, if at cost. Ling Qi had somewhat conflicted feelings on the art, if she was honest. It was definitely powerful, its quality incontestable, and yet it was at odds with so much of her skillset. No, rather, the personal portion of the art was. The ability to toughen her allies so greatly was a potent tool in her usual tactics. Briefly, she wondered how Gan Guangli would have fared with such an art bolstering everyone. Perhaps if he had passed, she would have faced him today.

Letting that thread of thought drift away, Ling Qi turned her thoughts back to the simmering channels of vital qi that flowed through her spine and spread outward from her heart. She changed the cycling of her qi from the basic exercise of the Eight Phase Ceremony to the more rigid and regimented practice demanded by the Thousand Ring Fortress. Subsuming her thoughts into the pulses of qi, she allowed all other thoughts to fade.

Unyielding vitality. The core of the Thousand Ring Fortress art, a defense that would grow back more quickly than it could be damaged and could weather any storm or assault. Even if it broke under siege, so long as a single chunk remained, the fortress could return to full strength in time, just as a forest could regrow from a single seed. She had not mastered it yet, so some portions of that power were missing.

Yet its defense was rigid and unbending. It belonged to the sort of stout arboreal guardians which would shatter before bending, and that was not her. She had played at such, today and in previous training, but in the end, the mindset of holding her ground come what may and refusing to fall back was just too alien. Ground could be surrendered, and people could retreat. It was better to let an enemy push her back and in doing so, overextend themselves than to repulse them with sheer force.

Or so she thought anyway.

To truly change a masterful art such as the Thousand Rings Fortress was beyond her, but perhaps applying its lessons elsewhere was not. In the opening rounds of a battle, she had to choose whether to put her effort into becoming one with shadow and slipping away, risking great damage, or channeling her effort into armor, trading on the certainty of a weakened attack. If that could be solved...

With a new focus, Ling Qi concentrated her thoughts on that idea.

By the time Ling Qi opened her eyes, night had fallen, but she had succeeded. The ability to defend from more potent arts had been etched into the very core of her spirit. It was sloppy, lacking the structure granted by a full art and less efficient than her Ten Ring Defense technique, but with this, she could improve her early defense without having to sacrifice her opening offense to as great a degree.

Sitting up in bed, Ling Qi stretched her arms overhead, feeling invigorated, the last soreness from her wounds having faded. Peering around her temporary room, Ling Qi could not help but smile. On the stand by her bed was a little basket full of flowers, sweets, and distinctly wood-scented pills. The note laying in the center confirmed her thought. Li Suyin had seen that she was deep in cultivation and elected not to disturb her, leaving instead her congratulations and a little victory present.

Ling Qi grinned as she let the first of the pills dissolve on her tongue, the rich flavor spreading as quickly as the vital warmth of the medicinal energy. Perhaps she could improve her efficiency even more by morning like this.

Chapter 205-Tournament 15

Morning came before she knew it, and once again, Ling Qi found herself standing before a great crowd of the Empire’s nobility, the weight of their combined spiritual power leaving the air heavy, even without the pitiless light of the Duchess Cai shining down from the very highest box.

She stood on the opposite side of the arena from Sun Liling. The red-haired girl was smiling a friendly, easy-going smile that did not reach her eyes. It set Ling Qi on edge immediately. Nonetheless, she offered a proper bow of respect toward her opponent.

Sun Liling’s smile didn’t fade as she returned a much more perfunctory bow. “I really have to praise you,” she said brightly as she raised her head.

“You are too kind, Princess Sun,” Ling Qi replied warily, eyeing the dangerous girl across from her. “I can’t imagine what one of your stature would praise one such as me for.”

“You’re too modest, Ling Qi,” Sun Liling said, her smile growing sharp. “Why, you’re practically a living example of what the sects are supposed to do. Someone as talented as you woulda been wasted as a mortal.”

<Don’t get put off-balance,> Sixiang whispered.

“Thank you very much for your kind words, Princess,” Ling Qi replied mechanically, not quite able to keep all of the bewilderment out of her voice. “I am more than honored to hear such praise.”

Something wasn’t right.

By now, she was sure that the story of the year’s events had spread to everyone watching. Sun Liling so openly praising an enemy who had caused her so much trouble would surely make her look bad. Was she just trying to seem generous and clean up her tarnished reputation? Ling Qi doubted it.

The other girl nodded amicably, not breaking eye contact. “Right. I just wanted you to be sure.”

A bad feeling began to stir in Ling Qi’s thoughts. “Sure of what, Princess Sun?”

“That I would be taking you seriously from the start. I think you’ve earned that,” Sun Liling replied lightly.

Oh.

As the formation’s mists rose and solidified, forming a maze of roots beneath her feet and a sweltering sun above her head, shining through the high tropical canopy of a thick jungle landscape so overgrown that a man might hardly be able to pass through between any given pair of tree trunks, Ling Qi could only stare at her grinning opponent.

Thunder boomed, and time slowed to a crawl.

Standing atop a tangled root network, she saw Sun Liling’s left hand clench, her sharpened, green painted nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm. Wet gleaming strands of crimson bloomed, stretching out into a spiralling helix, all in the space between eye blinks. Crimson liquid became dark metal and thorny barbs.

Ling Qi was already moving, the shadow of the canopy deepening and swallowing her up as her fingers and toes trailed off into dark mist, joining with the shadows themselves. Zhengui’s spirit streamed from her dantian, heavy qi solidifying into his sturdy body.

She was too slow. The spear had already flown from Sun Liling’s hands, a streak of sanguine light screaming through the air toward her chest. As its barbed tip reached to impale her, Ling Qi flickered, her form fading into mist and shadow as she appeared to the right. It wasn’t enough.

Although she was expecting it, it hurt her eyes as the air itself seemed to scream, warping under the weighty of bloodthirsty qi. The spear tore across her lower ribs, shredding silk and flesh alike, even as she twisted away from its new path and blunted the majority of the tearing barbs with layer upon layer of vital qi.

It was only a minor wound, Ling Qi thought distantly through the fugue of battle, but it was only the beginning. Zhengui’s weight cracked the roots beneath his feet as he solidified, and an echoing ghostly shriek erupted from her storage ring as her Ossuary Horror burst forth. It was an ugly thing, an eagle-sized construct in the shape of a bird, crackling black energy forming pinions over its skeletal wings.

Sun Liling merely regarded her with a raised eyebrow from her perch, her spear having returned to her hands and the beginnings of her armor crawling up her arms. Ling Qi’s focus remained on the brief flickering pulse of qi she had felt emerging from the girl as the battle began, slithering down into the roots under their feet to blend with the ambient qi. That must be Dharitri, Sun Liling’s spirit.

To her right, Zhengui stamped his feet and let out a twin-mouthed cry, unleashing a billowing fountain of ash that washed over the nearby area. To her left, the horror circled upwards, letting out another echoing shriek as the cloak of qi granting it a facsimile of feathers rippled, green and vital qi sinking into all three of them, strengthening bones and flesh with dense wood qi. Around Ling Qi, ten rings of defense rippled and joined one hundred rings of armament, hiding Ling QI’s slender figure from sight beneath a coruscating armor of qi.

Ling Qi met Sun Liling’s green eyes and saw curiosity and excitement, tempered by anger and wariness. Then, as the bloody armor crept up over her shoulders and began to spread across her chest, the Sun Princess exploded into motion, wood shattering beneath her feet as she rocketed toward Ling Qi, barbed spear outstretched.

Ling Qi ghosted backward into Zhengui’s ash, light-footed even under armor that would make a grown man stagger if it were solid and real, but the princess was too fast to be avoided so easily. The girl was suddenly on top of her, barbed spear blurring and spinning through the air in a complex dance that bit and jabbed again and again, its haft flexing to slip past her defenses and growing rigid when the butt slammed home in brutal, bludgeoning blows.

Their battle, Ling Qi thought, desperately pushing her reflexes to their limit, sounded like a thousand axes being taken to an old oak at high speed. Yet under the storm of blows, her armor held. It cracked, energy wavering as entire chunks shattered, and she was faintly aware that a ragged stretch of cloth from her gown floated away on the wind of their movements, exposing part of her legs. But she did not bleed.

Her Ossuary Horror was not so lucky. She became aware of its plight when the sound of shattering bone reached her ears. It had done its job, allowing her to fully armor herself and repel Sun Liling’s first strike, but Ling Qi had hoped it would last longer as her ‘surprise’ for this round. She spared a half second glance at it, the sight causing her eyes to widen. Through the falling ruin of bones and qi, a gleaming emerald disc flew, spinning through the air on a returning arc that would carry it to her.

The wailing song of her own domain weapon joined the din only a moment later, its song sending the jade chakram off its course by a few crucial centimeters. She could feel the disc’s acidic, hungry qi from here though, eager to dissolve and break armor and defense. She grimaced as Sun Liling’s darting spear carved a furrow through the regenerating armor on her forearm, coming a hair’s breadth from piercing flesh. She had to hope that her own domain weapon could last at least a handful of passes with Sun Liling’s. At least her friend would know what sort of domain weapon the Princess was using.

Ling Qi took some satisfaction in the tiny signs of frustration in her opponent’s expression as the spread of Sun Liling’s blood armor slowed to a crawl. The ornate breastplate was fully formed and her arms armored, but the tassets and leg guards were only half-formed and her helm incomplete. The girl’s eyes narrowed as they met hers, and Ling Qi’s stomach dropped as she felt a flare of dark, sickly bloodlust. The only visual sign of change was a blood vessel bursting in the girl’s right eye and the grimace that hardened her expression. Sun Liling’s crimson armor exploded forward in growth, completing itself as skeletal limbs began to sprout from her shoulder blades.

Ling Qi fell back before the storm of blows that followed, reforming her armor, dissolving into shadow, and using every other trick she could think of as Zhengui diligently spread his ash far and wide, just like she had instructed. All the while, she did her best to keep track of that slithering trail of qi, sneaking beneath the earth.

In the instant that she felt that presence spike, she screamed a silent warning to Zhengui through their connection and leaped backward with all of her might, rocketing away from Sun Liling. A thousand reveling phantoms burst from every shadow and surface, filling the jungle floor with a riot of psychedelic light. The moment her feet came in contact with one of the pillar-like trunks of the jungle trees, she pushed off again, rocketing away the growing revel just ahead of the trunk cratering beneath the force of Sun Liling’s barbed spear.

Below her, Zhengui was retreating from his position, his shell aglow with heat and qi within his ash. The ground beneath his feet roiled, stabbing rootlets scrabbling at his feet and grasping hungrily at his shell. As Ling Qi closed the distance with him, Zhengui let out a cry of pain as wooden claws dug into his stony underbelly and shoved him up and back. Zhengui landed with a crash, legs kicking in the air as the roots and underbrush withered and burned under the heat of his shell.

Dharitri rose from where he had been, elegant and graceful as ever, save for the oversized, jagged wooden talons which replaced her hands. The spirit looked up and met Ling Qi’s determined gaze with a beatific smile as hungry roots rose to dig into her little brother.

That expression didn’t change as the temperature plummeted and plants died, withering under the unrelenting cold of deepest winter, but the spirit did dance back out of range, smoothly falling back with nothing more than a bit of glistening moisture on her ochre flesh to show for the assault.

It gave time for Zhengui to recover though, Zhen’s muscular coils flexing and rocking the stranded tortoise back into a mobile position, even as the young serpent grumbled complaints about Gui’s weight through their connection. Ling Qi could not afford to give him any further attention as she spun to face the crimson warrior once again bearing down on her. The image of a thousand petaled lotus blazed like a banner behind Sun Liling, and a light like a star blazed from the brows of the three demonic faces of her helm, parting the revel around her like a fading morning mist.

Once again, Ling Qi retreated under a rain of blows, grimacing as she felt her layered armor shuddering under the vicious blows. Gashes opened in her gown, baring flesh, and she could feel the protective enhancements of her gown fraying and thinning, even as she felt a throb of pain from her connection to her domain weapon as green jade clashed with black metal and metal gave way, creaking under the strain.

She needed to hurry.

A silent command sent to Zhengui caused one of the ashfields to flare and scatter in a phantom wind, and the minor wounds Ling Qi had suffered so far faded, blood fading into shadowy dust and flesh knitting back together. In that moment, she once again locked gazes with Sun Liling, whose eyes gazed at her from the back of a demonic maw.

She wasn’t done. Ling Qi had mastered the Thousand Ring Defense art, and now, she had reason to use it’s ultimate technique.

Emerald light blazed around both her and Zhengui, and the Thousand Rings Unbreaking technique coursed through her channels. Vitality flooded her limbs, and even as she fell back before the girl’s next attack, she found herself less easily pushed onto the back foot of their exchange.

But she couldn’t forget about the other enemy here as well. A wave of shimmering multi-hued dust washed over her and Zhengui both, mingling with the ash floating in the air and the light of the fading revel to create patterns of dazzling light. The instant that her thoughts began to grow fuzzy though, wild, Sixiang flooded moon-scented qi through her meridians, cleansing the clinging pollen.

Zhengui was not so lucky. Ling Qi felt his thoughts going sluggish and confused, and she saw both of his gazes fall upon the smiling Dharitri and light up with childish delight and adoration. Scowling, she activated her Deepwood Vitality technique, replacing broken armor and cleansing the effect from Zhengui with a pulse of wood qi. Zhen’s eyes narrowed, and Dharitri spun to the side to avoid the sizzling glob of white hot venom that shot through the space where her face had just been.

Once again, Ling Qi disengaged from Sun Liling. This time, she faded into a shadowy wraith, shooting into the shadow of a great tree that had fallen over Dharitri. The card Cai Renxiang had gifted her flashed into existence in her hand and flared white as she brought it to activation. A blazing radiance washed over the smiling spirit, and the air around her burned, something filmy and immaterial that Ling Qi had not even noticed before wavered and faded. Dharitri’s form wavered, reappearing half a meter to the left of where she had seemed to have been before.

In that moment though, Ling Qi was too slow to dodge the howling spear that slammed into her shoulder, its passage sending the hair of the spirit she had just attacked fluttering. Spinning barbs ripped into her layers of defense, tearing through one after another, shredding qi and silk alike, and though they slowed and deflected its path, Ling Qi cried out as a line of heat and pain was drawn across her upper arm from the deflected spear.

Ling Qi grit her teeth even as a second throb of pain hit her from the spinning, wailing weapons darting about overhead. She was almost out of time, and her qi was growing depleted, drained from keeping so many blows away from flesh. But she had her best opening. Even if Sun Liling’s damned spirit was still smiling at her, its defenses were stripped.

Ling Qi raised her flute, and before the card she had dropped even touched the now frozen ground, she played the notes of the Frozen Soul Serenade. Bark shattered, plants withered, and the wind howled at the sudden onset of cold, and Dharitri staggered back, raising her talons as if to ward off the song even as lovely skin blackened and wrinkled. The staggering spirit let out an inhuman howl of pain as its body jerked from a second assault, Zhen’s fangs digging into her thigh and filling her veins with molten venom.

Ling Qi had only a moment to feel elation before the haft of a spear slammed into her gut and nearly folded her in half. Only the power of the Thousand Rings Unbreaking prevented the monstrous blow from smashing her bodily through the towering tree behind her, and it allowed Ling Qi the luxury of scrambling back, desperately parrying the biting edges of the twin curved blades now seeking her blood.

Even as she sought an opening to escape, Ling Qi felt the formations woven throughout her gown flare and sputter as a jagged blade laid her stomach bare, a flap of silk waving uselessly in the whirlwind generated by her enemy’s attacks. They faded and went dormant a moment later, and overhead, Ling Qi heard the shrieking sound of metal being rent asunder and saw the remains of her domain weapon raining down onto the jungle floor.

Behind the relentless Sun Liling, she glimpsed Zhengui struggling as Dharitri retaliated. The spirit’s beautiful face had warped, cheeks splitting open all the way to its ears to reveal a maw full of jagged fangs, and frostbitten flesh was flaking away to reveal the barbed skeleton beneath as she fell upon Zhengui in a rain of frenzied blows. But the protection of Thousand Rings Unbreaking persisted, giving Zhengui a chance at fighting back as rootlets and grasping talons alike failed to find purchase on his shell.

Damn it all. She had known coming in that she couldn’t win, but she had hoped to at least defeat Sun Liling’s spirit. She had wanted just for a moment to make the other girl lose in some small way.

Ling Qi felt a pulse through her bond with Zhengui, and her eyes met his. She felt understanding and determination. Gui’s jaws bit down on a wooden claw with an ugly crunch, even as Dharitri’s roots dug into his flesh. Zhengui’s shell burned, a flaring, magmatic light that withered plants for a dozen meters around with its heat. Ling Qi remembered the lesson Gu Tai’s spirit had given her little brother on channeling his flames as the phoenixes once had.

The blast threw her off of her feet from the pressure wave. Massive trunks snapped like matchsticks, and jungle plants carbonized under the heat.

Ling Qi landed feet first against a massive root and righted herself an instant later. In the clearing smoke, she saw Dharitri’s twisted, wooden skeleton lying on the ground, blackened and burned with only feeble rays of red light shining from empty eye sockets. Zhengui’s shell lay on the ground, terribly still, his limbs withdrawn, his shell polished and black like obsidian.

Then a missile struck Ling Qi back with the force of a giant’s fist, and Thousand Rings Unbreaking shattered like glass, sending her sprawling forward at the sudden lack of support. She had but a moment to see the emerald disc spinning away as she scrambled back to her feet before a black axe blade slammed into her chest, making her ribs creak as the majority of the blow was absorbed by her flagging qi. The darting twin blades came next, slashing across her throat in a shower of green sparks and leaving behind thin lines of blood.

The spear came last, shattering the last of her qi defenses to punch into her recently healed abdomen and out of her back in a spray of blood.

As her vision faded, Ling Qi took satisfaction in the fact that Sun Liling’s expression was not happy at all.

Chapter 206-Tournament 16

Ling Qi grimaced as she settled onto the padded seat beside Cai Renxiang. Her abdomen still throbbed, but the medical disciples had assured her that she was recovering well. She needed to refrain from any strenuous activities for a time while the foreign qi and blood was purged from her body.

Zhengui, on the other hand, was fine, if exhausted. She knew that his final technique was something that didn’t do any permanent harm, but seeing him cold and still had been bad for her heart.

She glanced at her liege as she tried to find a comfortable position. She had been unconscious for most of the day before and had missed the other match, lost instead in half-remembered dreams of dancing starlight and the wind in her hair.

“So, things ended like this then, my lady?” she asked mildly, breaking the silence between them. They were alone in the box as of yet. Their seats were set directly below the central box where the Duchess Cai Shenhua would be seated later, if several levels down.

“Miss Bai was quite formidable,” Cai Renxiang agreed, looking briefly down at her. The central seat of the box was positioned to be just slightly above the others. “It is no surprise that a scion of such a venerable clan would surpass me in matters which are not my specialty.”

Ling Qi hummed, not needing Sixiang’s whispers to hear the things said between her actual words. Their match’s ending had been pre-arranged, probably as a counterpoint to the demonstration match at the beginning of the tournament and to avoid allowing Sun Liling to gain too much advantage by her opponent in the finals having to go all out in the round before.

<Ah, I’m becoming useless already,> Sixiang lamented. <What am I to do…>

<You could always cultivate, instead of lazing around,> Ling Qi thought, amused. Her thoughts were less crowded today. Since she would not be fighting, she had given Zhengui permission to go visit Hanyi and Zeqing today. He had not been in the best of moods on her awakening due to her injury, but her little brother was as irrepressible as he always was in the end.

<Still not sure that was the best idea. Poor little fella isn’t feeling good, despite everything,> Sixiang pointed out.

<I know,> Ling Qi thought. There was no reason for him to feel bad. In the end he had accomplished her goal for the match. But he didn’t like how badly she had been hurt. <Letting him sit still and stew all day won’t help though.>

Out loud, she continued her conversation with Cai Renxiang. “Are you satisfied with that, my lady?” she asked, giving the other girl a sidelong look.

Folded neatly in her lap, Cai Renxiang’s hands twitched as if to clench, although the motion never got that far. “I had thought so,” the other girl said in a low voice. “But I have been reminded that power must come first for anything else to hold meaning.” She spoke calmly, but Ling Qi could detect a lingering edge of bitterness there. “I will redouble my efforts in the Inner Sect.”

“I will not disagree,” Ling Qi said. “Strength is the key to accomplishing anything, but it is still only the means, not the end.”

Cai Renxiang made a sound of agreement, but she didn’t look back down at her. “Of course. You need not remind me of such a basic thing.”

“Forgive my musing,” Ling Qi replied. “I was only thinking aloud. I look forward to reaching greater heights with you in the Inner Sect.” And even if she had lost yesterday, Ling Qi could feel proud knowing that she had gotten this far in only a year.

“I suppose you have proven yourself quite a grindstone,” Cai Renxiang said, her tone briefly becoming light.

Ling Qi grimaced. “Please do not remind me,” she pleaded. “I do not intend to be forced into such positions so easily in the future.”

The other girl made a small sound of amusement. “As you say. In any case, the stands will be filling soon. Let us leave personal matters aside for the moment.”

Making a sound of agreement, Ling Qi fell silent as the stands around them filled. Their box became home to a number of young faces, a few of which were familiar to her. Bao Qingling entered and took a seat, looking as dour as ever and wearing the same shapeless, utterly concealing clothing that she always did, if a set that was free of medicinal stains. There was a girl she had known briefly from a tutoring session regarding the mixing of wood and wind elements. After her was a boy who shared the narrow features and spindly build of the Luo representative she had greeted on the first day of the tournament.

It quickly became clear that those seating themselves around Cai Renxiang were Inner disciples associated with the higher-ranking noble clans of Emerald Seas. Thankfully, there was not time for more than introductions and pleasantries before Sect Head Yuan took the stage far below.

“For the final time this season, I offer my welcome to the honored guests observing Argent Peak Sect’s New Year’s Tournament,” the elderly head announced, his voice easily audible despite the distance. “The Sect’s fortune has been truly inordinate this year for the crop of talented youths we have had the pleasure of raising has been beyond all expectations. I am certain that we shall feel the effects of this year’s competition for many years to come.”

Ling Qi knew the man wasn’t exaggerating. She honestly felt bad for those who would come in the next couple years. It would be some time before the competition for Inner Sect entry evened out to a more normal level.

“We come now to our final match,” Sect Head Yuan continued. “Both participants have shown ability far beyond the standard of their age, and each is a credit to their lineage, the Sect, and the Empire as a whole. However, a tournament may have but a single winner, and so we come now to the final round. Please give your full attention to the young disciples before you for they have earned that regard, at the least.”

Ling Qi’s hands clenched in her lap as she saw the small white figure of Bai Meizhen walking toward the arena beside the bright swatch of red and green that was the Sun Princess. Bai Meizhen would win, Ling Qi thought. The idea of Meizhen losing to that cocky girl was unconscionable.

Against her will, memories of that day early in the year surfaced, of Meizhen seated amidst the rubble of their first home, gown tattered, bleeding from many wounds. That fight with Sun Liling had been a draw, and it had also been the sole time in which she had seen her friend in a state of physical vulnerability.

<I won’t tell you not to worry, but she’d probably be happier if you were confident in her, you know?> Sixiang pointed out in her thoughts.

Ling Qi let out a quiet breath and forced herself to relax as the arena began to activate. Sixiang was correct.

Below, the two finalists came into sharper focus as the formations activated, allowing Ling Qi to see and hear them as clearly as she would if she stood right outside the arena.

The two girls stood silently across from one another. Sun Liling’s dislike for her enemy was barely veiled, her lips set in a scowl and her eyes narrow. Bai Meizhen’s expression was as empty and cold as the night sky overlooking Zeqing’s home.

“I’d apologize for breaking your toys,” the princess said coldly as the mists engulfed them, “but let’s be honest. It’s not really that important, is it?”

“I have no patience for prattle, child of Sun,” Bai Meizhen replied frostily. “Be silent, and wait for the match’s start.”

Sun Liling let out a small laugh. “Just saying. I didn’t see you anywhere near the recovery rooms yesterday or even the day before. Then again, that’s just how the Bai are, isn’t it? More snake than human, hiding in your holes and lakes, looking down on everyone without a forked tongue.” Sun Liling sneered. “It’d be more surprising if you did show any loyalty to a friend.”

Ling Qi glanced around as an uneasy murmuring rose from the disciples around her. She thought that the girl’s words seemed a little over the edge of rudeness. Ji Rong had been cruder perhaps, but that was expected to a degree. She also became uncomfortably aware of the looks cast her way.

Bai Meizhen’s expression remained blank and unperturbed. “I have no need to explain myself to you,” she said coldly. “Nor is there any meaning in discussing loyalty with a Sun.” Venomous contempt very nearly dripped from her final words.

Thunder boomed then, ending the exchange before it could go any farther.

The field that formed for the two girls to do battle on was unlike any that had come before it. Under an open blue sky marred with only wisps of cloud, there was an endless field. No trees or raised stones marked it, and not a single blade of grass grew there. Instead, stretching in all directions was the crumbling, freshly upturned earth of a well tilled field before the planting.

Ling Qi supposed that the terrain was the closest thing the Sect could make as a perfectly fair battlefield. But wouldn’t the fertile earth give Sun Liling and her spirit a slight advantage?

She didn’t have much time to ponder that as both girls acted. Dark water poured down Meizhen’s back and rose, rippling to cast her face in shadow. The silvery strands of her whiplike sword appeared, coiled in one hand, and Bai Cui appeared around her feet, poisonous green scales standing out brightly against the dull background.

At the same time, Sun Liling stood, relaxed as Dharitri materialized in a shower of shimmering pollen behind her, perfect visage once again set in an easy smile. Ling Qi couldn’t help but frown as she watched. Why was Sun Liling materializing the spirit in full view? The red-haired girl’s hand clenched and her spear formed in her hands, barbed point rising away from her opponent.

Ling Qi’s eyes widened only a moment before the barbed point punched into and through the spirit’s back, erupting in a shower of black-tinged blood from Dharitri’s back. The spirit continued to smile, even as blood poured from her lips and her smooth flesh withered and dried. Crimson armor practically leapt across the princess’s limbs, covering her arms and upper body in the blink of an eye.

Meizhen’s golden eyes only narrowed in reaction as Cui’s head rose, swaying from her coils and opening her mouth, baring fangs the length of daggers. As she released a bone chilling hiss and spat a mass of sizzling near-black venom though, Ling Qi noticed something glimmering amid the noxious mix.

Sun Liling leapt away, a flick of her spear sending her withered spirit flying away from the fight as the haft spun in her hands to bring its barbed tip, still wet with Dharitri’s blood, to bare. As the venom struck the ground, Ling Qi caught the sound of clay shattering amidst the sizzle of the venom, and water gushed explosively forth. There was a muffled boom as the earth cratered and split under the sudden pressure countless geysers, miniature whitecaps spreading outward across the surface of the newly formed lake.

Bai Meizhen had yet to move an inch, save for her eyes, which tracked the arc of her enemy through the air. Cui uncoiled, slithering toward the watery pool she had just created. As Ling Qi watched, the inky blot of darkness at Meizhen’s feet flickered and moved. Tendrils of shadow spread like a tracery of veins across her pure white gown, and her mantle of water grew darker and more solid.

She got a single glimpse of the veins of shadow reaching up Meizhen’s pale throat before it happened. Even weakened by distance and formation, raw animal terror sent a chill down her spine, and in the arena, the very air around her friend distorted visibly under the weight of her qi. Half-glimpsed phantasms of terror and pain took shape in the flows of the wind, the rippling water, and the rising dust.

She saw Sun Liling grimace visibly in midair, even as her blood armor finished encasing her feet in pointed toed boots of scarlet metal, its many sharp edges highlighted in a green that Ling Qi had never seen before on the girl’s armaments. Sun Liling’s grip on her spear grew white-knuckled as a star was born again on her brow, the multi-hued petals of a great lotus blooming into life behind her. The instant that her feet touched the muddy earth, her long legs flexed, and she launched herself forward with thunderous force, shattering the ground beneath her feet in a plume of dust as she rocketed spear-first toward Meizhen.

Meizhen’s ribbon blade unfurled with a crack like thunder, its metal strands carving air and earth alike as they lashed out toward Sun Liling. The princess wove through the striking blades with impossible agility, her red spear blurring as haft and point spun, deflecting biting heads of silvery metal. In an instant, they passed one another with a sound like a boulder striking a lake.

As Sun Liling and Bai Meizhen spun to face one another again, Ling Qi saw the faint red stain on Meizhen’s hip where cloth had already repaired itself. In the pause that came as the two girls sized one another up, there was another blast that shook the earth from further away. Ling Qi looked aside to trace it and found herself looking upon a field of colorful flowers, torn apart by the introduction of another pool of water and an emerging serpent. One way or another, the girls’ spirits would be checking one another until one of the ducal scions fell.

The moment’s respite ended with the sound of metal striking stone. Above the two girls’ heads, a wide-bladed silver sword struck a spinning jade chakram and screamed, sparks showering down on the combatants below as the weapons struggled for supremacy.

Below, a spear and two blades clashed against the tongues of a serpentine sword, and this time, it was the crimson princess who felt the bite, the armor on her left arm cracking, and the force of the whip-like strike carved a rapidly purpling bloody line across her bicep. Sun Liling only let out a grunt of exertion in response, her muscles flexing beneath her tanned skin as brackish purple and red liquid was forced from the wound and the armor restored itself. Neither girl’s face was visible any longer, one hidden in the maw of a demonic helm and the other shadowed by a hood of cold water, leaving only golden eyes visible.

The combatants circled one another amidst the clangor of their battling domain weapons and the hissing and screeching of their spirit beasts. Sun Liling’s spear flared with bloody light and the crimson princess leapt back, drawing her arm back for a throw. Bai Meizhen shifted her stance in response, presenting a narrower profile as her black mantle rippled and expanded, engulfing her lower body entirely in bubbling, white-capped waters.

As the spear flew, Meizhen loomed tall, rising on liquid coils, and darted to the side, blurring before Ling Qi’s eyes, spiralling darts of envenomed water launching themselves back in retaliation.Yet Sun Liling’s twisted spear could not miss so easily. As Sun Liling slashed her friend’s counterattack out of the air with her jagged swords, space fractured, and the red spear reappeared, centimeters from Meizhen’s chest. Liquid shadow roiled across her gown, the tracery of veins which had spread rising from cloth and growing thicker and more solid as the spearpoint slammed into it with a thunderous retort.

An eerie wail rose, raising the hairs on the back of Ling Qi’s neck as shadow and spear strained against one another. Both shattered in a flash of light, the broken spear reforming in Sun Liling’s hand, and the shadow fading back into ragged lines, a jagged hole left in its pattern.

A streak of green carved through the air, slashing through Meizhen’s mantle in a spray of water tinged with red. Meizhen’s defense bubbled violently, destabilized, but it lasted less than an eyeblink. The pale girl’s golden eyes narrowed at her opponent, now finally falling to earth with two new limbs forming on her shoulders. The crimson princess raised her twin curved blades just in time to meet the silver blur that struck her like a meteor, driving her into the ground with a muffled boom as her feet dug a meter-deep furrow in the dirt.

One black blade snapped under the pressure, and the second cracked before the haft of her broken spear slammed into the side of the wide-curved blade of Meizhen’s flying sword, forcing it from its course. As her final two arms finished forming, she was, for a moment, wide open, but Meizhen did not advance on her. Instead, Meizhen’s golden eyes gleamed with malicious light, and the feeling of pressure and terror still flooding the arena redoubled and took on a different edge.

It took Ling Qi a moment, and a surreptitious activation of Discerning Gaze, to understand what Meizhen was doing. With her senses enhanced, she could make it out among the natural flows of qi in the area, twisting threads of something invisible and without scent, a toxic qi just barely discernible even to spiritual senses filling the air for more than a hundred meters in every direction.

Its effect became obvious in the sudden stiffening and clenching of Sun Liling’s hands on the haft of her spear. It only seemed to anger the girl more, and her jade chakram came spinning back to slam into Meizhen’s domain blade with a metallic shriek, knocking it from the course of its follow-up blow on Sun Liling. One of her six arms, the one that was a hand with no weapon, flared with a rainbow of light, washing over her form in cleansing waves, and Sun Liling launched herself once again toward Meizhen.

They met in a cacophony of clashing blades. Meizhen moved with serpentine grace, the watery coils granted by her Abyssal Mantle art removing any pretense of moving like a human being as her ribbons met Sun Liling’s repaired armaments with thunderous cracks. Yet not for a moment did the crimson princess’ assault let up, her false limbs bulging with greater bulk, forcing plates of armor apart to expose muscle fiber formed entirely of glowing green qi. Metallic ribbons tangled and mired her blades, seeking to rip them from her hands, but instead of being disarmed, the princess let out an almost bestial snarl, ripping them back with enough force that Meizhen was off-balance.

The massive blade of Sun Liling’s axe swung down, slamming hard into Meizhen’s liquid-armored shoulder. The mantle dented inward, bubbling ferociously as it held back a force that was cratering the ground beneath their feet.

Sun Liling’s armor cracked, bright, glowing vents opening in her armored shoulders, and with a sound like a sudden gale, the expulsion of qi from the vents drove her downward in a spray of blood like misshapen wings. Meizhen’s mantle was cloven through, and the blade of the axe bit into flesh and bone with an ugly crack.

The pale girl let out only a low hiss of pain as her right arm spasmed, nearly losing her the grip on her weapon, but then Sun Liling screamed, stumbling backward as she raised her false limbs defensively. Ling Qi only understood what had happened when she saw the trickle of sizzling, toxic purple fluid running down the demonic jaws which framed Sun Liling’s face.

Ling Qi did not think she would ever see the day when Bai Meizhen would literally spit into someone’s eyes.

Despite that, she was feeling uneasy. The wound Meizhen had suffered was the more serious one, she thought, and Sun Liling was even now recovering while her friend’s grip on her weapon remained shaky and the stain of blood running from her shoulder spread across the front of her gown. As rippling waves of multi-hued light went out from Sun Liling’s sixth hand, Bai Meizhen went on the offensive.

Meizhen darted forward, crossing the distance between them in an instant, and the ribbons of her blade shimmered and melted, fusing together into a single, gleaming, violet length of metal. With an ear splitting crack, it struck, twisting like a hungry serpent between the multitude of weapons that rose to block it, and slashed across Sun Liling’s chest, carving through her breastplate and the flesh beneath with equal ease. At the same time, the air around Meizhen darkened, and the twisted phantasms that formed in the whorls of wind and the patterns in the dirt screamed like a chorus of the damned.

Under the assault, Sun Liling backpedaled, batting aside the second strike of Meizhen’s urumi, as well as the third, but after that, her heel struck the mud at the edge of the artificial pool created in the opening moments of the bout. Cui struck.

Deadly fangs dug into the back of Sun Liling’s knee, and the girl snarled in fury and pain. The butt of her spear slammed into Cui, sending the serpent spinning away into the dirt. Then, flaring with a blinding red light, the point of her barbed spear slammed into the ground.

Ling Qi saw Meizhen’s eyes widen in alarm just before light engulfed the area, blinding her. When her vision returned, the field was much changed. The pool was gone, and in its place was a forest of red black stakes studded with the yellow blooms of sunflowers. In its center stood Sun Liling, bloodied but unbowed, with a twisted caricature of a woman made of wood and vines who must have been Dharitri.

Sap wept from blackened wounds across its skeletal form, and the wide fanged grin on its skull- like head hardly resembled the spirit’s normal beatific smile, but her qi was much the same, if greatly weakened.

On the other hand, bloody gashes marked Cui where spearing stakes had ripped open her scales. Her form was fading, and Bai Meizhen’s aura felt dangerously depleted.

The silence of the standoff was broken by the crack of breaking stone and the thump of the two shorn halves of Sun Liling’s domain weapon falling to earth. As Meizhen’s newly freed domain weapon shrieked triumphantly through the air toward her enemies, Dharitri’s talons grasped Sun Liling’s shoulders. The crimson princess’ muscles bulged with the infusion of qi as Dharitri’s form crumbled into wooden detritus. Sun Liling bounded out of the sunflower forest, switching her spear into a single-handed grip as a second bloomed in her newly free hand. She ignored Meizhen’s domain weapon carving a deep wound along her flank, the arterial spray of blood solidifying into another spear, quickly snatched by one of her lower arms as it abandoned its curved blade.

Her other arms were doing much the same. Axe, sword and the open hand were discarded and replaced, and when Sun Liling launched herself into the air over the defensively coiled Meizhen, she was wielding six barbed spears that glowed like the evening sun. Ling Qi saw her friend raise her free hand in warding, water springing from her fingertips with a waterfall’s roar.

Then the spears fell. They split and split again, six becoming a dozen, a dozen becoming a score, and more, all aimed for a single target. Ling Qi found herself briefly blinded once more, this time by the light of their impact. As her vision cleared, Ling Qi saw only a rising dust cloud at first, but quickly, her eyes zeroed in on the only spot of color.

Sun Liling stood shakily, her armor crumbling from her form, and her sharp green eyes darted to and fro through the dust. She looked pale and haggard, almost frail, standing there with only her two true limbs left, but Ling Qi could feel the trickle of qi flowing back into her channels. There was no sign of Meizhen amidst the dust of the deep crater where she had stood, only the gleam of her flying sword lying in the dirt.

The mud beneath the princess’ feet rippled.

Her heels digging into the dirt, Sun Liling backpedaled as quickly as her shaking limbs could carry her.

What emerged from the dirt hardly resembled Ling Qi’s best friend. Her normally stoic features were twisted into a rictus of hate, her perfect white hair was tangled and stained with mud and blood, and her hands were reaching out like claws from shredded sleeves. Bai Meizhen looked more like a snake demon than a young girl.

Meizhen’s hands latched onto Sun Liling’s forearms, and they both went down, tumbling in the dirt and mud. Ling Qi noticed that Meizhen’s gown was surprisingly intact, mostly red and brown at this point, but then again, Meizhen’s robe was also a Cai-gifted robe. Even now, she could see the sleeves reweaving themselves from tattered scraps.

As the veins in Sun Liling’s arms burned red with poison, her knee rose and slammed into Meizhen’s stomach where a deep red stain marked a wound, and Meizhen hissed in pain, but she maintained her deathgrip on the girl’s arms. They struggled against one another, but Sun Liling freed one arm and her knuckles slammed home once, twice, then a third time, hammering Meizhen’s rapidly bruising cheek and bleeding lips.

Meizhen did not loosen her grip though, an inhuman hiss rising from her throat. Just as Sun Liling was pulling back her fist for another punch, she snapped her own head forward. Ling Qi thought that Bai Meizhen was going to headbutt the other girl.

Instead, Meizhen’s jaw distended, and Ling Qi caught the glitter of fangs before her best friend dug her teeth into Sun Liling’s throat. Sun Liling screamed, and her fist smashed with renewed force into Meizhen’s cheek, finally disloging her.

As Sun Liling rolled onto her hands and knees, her limbs trembling, Ling Qi winced as she vomited blood and less identifiable fluids. Still, she rose, staring hatefully at Meizhen as she did, toxic blood dripping from her wounds and blackening her veins. Qi no longer flowed into her from her surroundings.

“You… damned snake,” she whispered hoarsely, “What’d you -”

“Did you believe...” Bai Meizhen wheezed out, her voice slightly lisped by her bleeding lips, “... that the Bai would not develop counters to the abominable fusion of Imperial and barbarian arts, you arrogant tart?"

“You think we're gonna lose to a few measly…” the red-haired girl slurred as her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed, already dissolving into mist.

The tournament had ended.

Chapter 207-Tournament 17

“I am sorry for sullying the clan's victory with vulgarity and brawling,” Bai Meizhen apologized. Her voice sounded small in her own ears. She lay beneath a thin sheet in a private recovery room for tournament participants. Her skin prickled with the numerous salves under her bandages, meant to ease the aggravated damage inflicted by the Sun’s tainted blood. She could still taste it on her tongue.

Beside her sat Aunt Suzhen, the picture of Bai poise and pride. Her expression was properly impassive, her hands folded in her lap. In this plain, tiny room, she looked as out of place as an Immortal in a peasant’s hut. She watched Bai Meizhen as she finished her apology, her first words after waking up.

Bai Meizhen closed her eyes, preparing herself to be scolded. Although she had won, it had been a messy, bloody thing, unbefitting of her station.

She didn’t regret it. The memory of Sun Liling’s outraged face as Bai Meizhen brought her fangs down would warm her heart for many a night.

Yet it had been a vulgar display all the same, and so she was prepared for her scolding.

She felt a cool touch on her forehead.

“I am proud of you, Bai Meizhen,” her aunt said. Her expression had not changed, but there was a faint warmth in her stern voice. Meticulously, she brushed the mussed strands of Bai Meizhen’s hair from her fevered brow.

Bai Meizhen felt her cheeks pink. She was too old for such displays of affection, and she had no claim to her Aunt beside. She kept silent, but warmth bloomed in her chest.

“Pride is important. Poise is important. Presentation is important.” Her aunt’s voice was stern, and Bai Meizhen shrunk into the bedding, casting her eyes down. “But my niece, victory is the most important of all.”

Bai Suzhen cupped her cheek affectionately as she leaned in to whisper soft words. “Protect your flanks from hidden fangs, and be aware of your foes and their whispers, but know that I, Bai Suzhen, recognize that you have crushed the scion of our great foe. Bai Meilin would be proud of her daughter.”

Poise was important, this she knew. However, Bai Meizhen believed that for a brief moment, the prickling in the corners of her eyes was acceptable. “You honor me, Lady Suzhen.”

Bai Suzhen withdrew her hand, and Bai Meizhen wished that the moment could have lasted just a little longer. The older woman tutted. “Aunt.”

“Yes, Aunt Suzhen,” said Bai Meizhen. For just a moment, she imagined that she saw her aunt’s steely expression crack into a tiny smile.

“Do you wish for me to send for your Father?” Bai Suzhen asked. “I had given him a task, but if you are awake-”

“There is no need to bother,” Bai Meizhen interrupted, only to wince a moment later. Her good mood plummeted. “My apologies, but there would be no purpose for it.”

She had no intention of bothering with that man now, after all these years. The bare minimum of filial piety was enough.

The air hissed, and for an instant, Bai Meizhen felt the kiss of a hundred cold blades on her skin. Her interruption had been tremendously rude, especially after her aunt’s kindness.

“Very well,” Bai Suzhen said. Bai Meizhen peeked up at her. She did not make any mention of the interruption. Bai Meizhen was thankful that her aunt was being so forgiving this day. She would compose herself much better after this meeting.

“In that case, we should discuss matters of your future,” her aunt continued, as if the previous few seconds had never occurred. “Naturally, your stipend will increase. I will see the matter through myself, should obstructions arrive. I believe I may be able to negotiate your return if you tire of the outside.”

“I would like to stay,” Bai Meizhen replied tentatively. “To assist with Aunt Suzhen’s plans. I believe I have made significant connections to the Cai.” And others, she thought, hoping that her aunt would not see fit to peer beyond her face.

There was a spark of warmth in the older Bai’s eyes. “Very good. You have earned a return, but it is good that you have made this choice. Things will not be as they were, Bai Meizhen. Do you understand this?”

“I do,” Bai Meizhen replied. She knew that her aunt and the duchess had put something very significant into motion at this tournament. She had to wonder how it was that her aunt had managed to convince Grandfather and the other elders to go along with such a thing.

“And niece?” Bai Suzhen continued. “It is not wrong to form lasting connections to outsiders. That you have been able to do so on your own is a credit to your adaptability.”

It looked like her thoughts had not been well hidden enough. “As you say, Aunt Suzhen,” she acknowledged demurely.

“Lastly, we will need to discuss the matter of your handmaiden and their enrollment here. You are a lady grown, and so it is unacceptable for you to remain unattended,” her aunt said crisply. A sheaf of documents appeared in her hand. “I have selected a number of promising candidates from the current generation, all of the purest bloodline. Peruse them, and I will arrange for the interviews to take place when you have made your selections.”

Bai Meizhen eyed the stack of neatly written papers with trepidation. Was she really ready for such responsibility?

“I am aware that it is unusual for this choice to be made at such a young age,” Bai Suzhen said gently, setting the stack of papers on the table at her bedside. “However, if you are to stay beyond the borders of Thousand Lakes, the usual acclimation period will not be possible, and you will require support.”

Bai Meizhen nodded and took a deep breath before reaching out to grasp the documents and bring them closer. She had made her choice. She would not shirk her responsibilities.

***

“And the winner of this year’s placement tournament, Bai Meizhen, shall receive the rank of eight hundred, and a place at the pinnacle of the first peak of the Inner Sect…”

Sect Head Yuan’s rich voice rang out over the gathered disciples, functionaries, and elders. It was, of course, nothing that Bai Meizhen did not already know.

She stood at the center of the raised stage upon which the winners stood with the others fanned out behind her. She could feel Sun Liling’s hatred on her back.

It was an incredibly satisfying feeling.

Bai Suzhen stood with the other visiting dignitaries on a balcony overseeing the pit where the Inner disciples gathered to greet the newcomers, and the pride in her eyes warmed Bai Meizhen’s heart. Rank in the Sect meant nothing to her. This was her true prize.

Her gaze flicked briefly to her right where a tired shadow stood a half step behind her Aunt. She met her father’s dull eyes and saw his weak, tired smile. Even now, having explored the bonds which connected her to others, she felt nothing.

No, the habitual bitterness she had come to recognize remained. What bond could one have with a father who could neither protect, nor teach, nor comfort? Filial duty guided the small, acknowledging bow she gave at his attention, and nothing more.

The praise of Sect Head Yuan He washed over her as the ceremony continued, and she graciously accepted the carved wooden badge engraved with the number Eight Hundred, but her thoughts went elsewhere to the girl who could, in her mind, be credited with the turning in her path which had led to this place.

Ling Qi still frustrated her. She did not dare turn her head to look at the other girl, standing in the third rank of winners, just behind and to the left of Cai Renxiang and opposite Ji Rong. She knew what she would see though. Ling Qi had grown skilled at putting on a mask of polite interest that hid the fact that her airy thoughts were beyond the reach of mere Immortals.

As the ceremony lapsed, they were released to mingle with the Inner disciples present while the elders danced the final dance of politics with the visitors. A surreptitious glance showed that her surmising was correct. Ling Qi was already gone from this place in all but body. It was somewhat amusing. At least she had gotten good enough at dissemblance that it was no longer obvious to peers.

With the ease of practice, Bai Meizhen swept aside the dark feelings which bubbled up in her heart when she looked upon her friend and offered a polite smile to the boy from the Qiu clan who was greeting her. As a scion of one of the Bai’s remaining pair of vassal counts, it would be unfortunate to give him a bad impression.

... She may have failed to hide her dark thoughts entirely going by the sweat on his brow and the hastiness with which he excused himself.

“I do not believe you made an error,” a familiar voice said from her right. Turning her head, she saw Cai Renxiang standing there, looking quite regal in her adjusted gown. Bai Meizhen very carefully did not allow her eyes to stray to the contours displayed by that masterpiece of tailoring.

“My domain has perhaps grown more quickly than my control,” Bai Meizhen replied, turning to face her second and last friend. She would not make the same mistakes with this one, not when the first time had nearly cost her so dearly.

Cai Renxiang inclined her head slightly. “The potency of your presence merely requires some acclimation, Sect Sister Bai.”

Bai Meizhen smiled in amusement. “As you say, Sect Sister Cai.” Such silliness. As if paltry bonds of organization could match those of family or choice. She understood why the Zheng would have no truck with the sects, perversion of their own blood bonding rituals that it was.

Cai Renxiang looked off to her right, and Bai Meizhen followed her gaze to Ling Qi once again. The tall girl chatted with a handsome boy with a closely shaven head. Wen something or other, if Bai Meizhen recalled correctly. Some part of his expression and the way he looked upon Ling Qi made her want to let loose her grip on her domain.

“She is doing well,” Cai Renxiang said blandly. “Had I not seen her practicing…”

“Quite,” Bai Meizhen agreed a touch sourly, turning her eyes away. The killing urge faded quickly enough. She was too mature to be beholden to her instincts. Hopefully, Cui would catch up soon; her sister was too childish at times.

“In any case, I must thank you for your support this year, Sect Sister,” Cai Renxiang said seriously, meeting her eyes.

“It is I who must thank you, Sect Sister,” Bai Meizhen replied. “I hope that our good relationship may continue going forward.”

Aunt Suzhen had some plans for loosening the current stance of the Bai clan, she had gleaned. It was now more important than ever that she maintain ties with the Cai heiress.

It was hardly an imposition.

“I do not doubt that it will, Sect Sister,” Cai Renxiang said with a small smile. Bai Meizhen ignored the fluttering feeling in her stomach as best she could. “We both have our work set out for us, I suspect. My retainers and I will look forward to working with you in the new year.”

Bai Meizhen gave a thankful nod.

She, too, was looking forward to being able to speak with both of her friends again.

Chapter 208-Tournament 18

The ceremony in which they had received their rankings had been overly long and grandiose in Ling Qi’s humble opinion. She was perhaps biased, burned out from so much time making nice to an ever growing number of people, repeating the same polite gestures and words over and over again. Yet despite the lengthy reception, speeches, and meetings with other Inner Sect disciples, Ling Qi had left with a feeling of satisfaction.

Eight hundred and thirty. That was to be her initial ranking in the Inner Sect. It placed her as fourth among the combat tournament’s disciples and sixth overall when counting the production disciples. Bai Meizhen, as the winner of the tournament, had received the rank of 800, the highest possible rank for a new Inner disciple, and Xuan Shi, the best of the production track, had taken the rank below. Sun Liling and Cai Renxiang had been awarded the ranks of 805 and 810 respectively. The second place production disciple and the last new disciple ranked above her had been a boy she did not recognize, named Du Feng.

At her current ranking, she would receive a stipend of ten yellow spirit stones every week, as well as the rights to a home and cultivation site centered around one of the first Inner Mountain’s lesser argent vents. In addition to that, ranking above 900 gave her the right to freely attend the lessons of the elders on the first mountain and freely peruse the first floor of the Inner Sect’s archive.

Yes, she could be satisfied with her current rewards for now, at least until she had time to read the rules handbook she had been given and plan for increasing her rank. She didn’t want to be one of those disciples still stuck where they’d started when next year’s batch of tournament winners came in.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait. The Duchess had called for them in the wake of the ceremony’s end.

She kneeled now, forehead pressed to the plush carpet which lined the floor of Cai Shenhua’s temporary accommodations. Cai Renxiang kneeled just ahead of her, allowed to raise her head from the ground but no more. The weight of the Duchess’ presence pressed down on Ling Qi, blurring her vision and granting the white-draped room they were in a dreamy sort of quality. The woman herself lounged in the center of the room, lying upon a powder blue divan. The Duchess seemed to have no care for propriety in this moment, wearing what Ling Qi could only call a loosely wrapped shift that rode up scandalously with the crossing and uncrossing of her marble white legs.

“Eight Hundred Ten,” the woman mused, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand as she looked down upon them, the light of her gaze burning on the back of Ling Qi’s neck despite not resting directly upon her. “Hardly a beautiful number. Are you satisfied with it, my daughter?”

“I am not, Mother,” Cai Renxiang replied, keeping her eyes on the ground. “It will serve well enough as a first step in the coming year.”

The lounging Duchess gave a thoughtful hum, drumming her gold painted fingernails on her hip. Ling Qi shivered as her gaze briefly passed over her, feeling the silent Sixiang shrink further into the back of her thoughts.

“A good attitude,” she said easily. “You have made errors and miscalculations in both this year and your preparations for it,” she assessed.

“Your daughter can only apologize for her failings, Mother,” Cai Renxiang said quietly, lowering her head. Ling Qi resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort. It did not feel right, being here while her liege was being chastised.

“So long as you acknowledge them,” the radiant monster said in a tone that could almost be construed as kind. “Despite certain childish stumbles, I am satisfied. Your time in the Sect has given you valuable experience to carry into the future. It is for that reason that I have spoken to Sect Head Yuan. You will be spending an additional year in the Inner Sect.”

Ling Qi blinked, keeping otherwise still, confused but happy nonetheless at this revelation. With this extension, she would have two years in the Inner Sect to enjoy the fruits of her labors and to spend with mentors like Zeqing.

“As you wish, Mother,” Cai Renxiang acceded. “May I know what you wish for me to accomplish given the additional time?”

“You will achieve a rank above 525 by the end of your stay,” Cai Shenhua ordered, the light radiating from her gaze intensifying. “I would place your sights higher, but there is no purpose in demanding impossibilities of you.” Ling Qi shuddered at the woman’s tone. It was playful, but there was an edge of cruelty to it, made all the worse by the lack of any malice. “Not yet.”

“It will be done, Mother,” Cai Renxiang promised.

“Of course it will be,” the woman replied languidly. “In regards to your boy, the one who failed, I expect him to maintain the shape of your Outer Sect order in the following year. He will enter the Inner Sect at a rank no less than your current one in the next tournament. If he cannot even manage that, I will assign you a superior vassal.”

“... I will convey your words to his ears, Mother.” There was a fraction of an instant’s hesitance in Cai Renxiang’s voice this time.

“As for you… Ling Qi, was it?” Cai Shenhua asked, her burning gaze falling fully upon Ling Qi’s back. “Raise your head. You have performed well and proved the worth of my daughter’s judgement.”

“This one is humbled beyond words at your regard, Honored Duchess,” Ling Qi said, carefully raising her head from the carpet but keeping her eyes down as her liege was doing.

“Good. I feel little need to offer you specific instruction,” the ruler said lightly. “End your time no more than five ranks behind my daughter.”

“Of course, Duchess Cai,” Ling Qi replied evenly. She could do that.

“What a good girl you are,” the woman said with a throaty chuckle. “Lastly, in eighteen months, the next competition between my province’s three Great Sects will take place. I expect you to assemble a suitable group with which to win the junior division.”

Ling Qi considered the order. She knew that there were competitions between the sects, but that didn’t sound like a straightforward combat tournament if they needed a group.

“I will not disappoint you, Mother,” Cai Renxiang promised again. “I thank you for offering me such chances to raise our family’s name.”

“You are welcome. Now go. Your new sister is being somewhat disagreeable,” the Duchess said, lazily gesturing toward the exit to the room.

Ling Qi waited, preparing to rise just after Cai Renxiang did, but the girl remained. Surprisingly, she saw the weaker light which radiated from her liege grow brighter, if only fractionally. “Mother, may your humble daughter ask of you a question first?”

She felt more than saw the Duchess’ radiant eyes widen fractionally. “Hoh? Very well. You have earned that much.”

“I simply wish to understand Mother’s reasoning in aligning so openly with the Bai clan and making true enemies of the Sun,” Cai Renxiang said, her gaze remaining steadfast on the ground.

“Do you believe I have made an error? I thought you fond of Miss Bai,” Cai Shenhua replied.

“I only wish to share your wisdom, Mother. I would never presume to believe that a friendship between children would drive such choices,” Cai Renxiang said.

The older woman laughed, a rich throaty sound that echoed in the hazy interior of the room. She sat up in a single smooth motion, her loose robe clinging precariously to her shoulders after the sudden movement. “True enough. Do not sell your efforts short though, my daughter. Your friendship offered a seam in the armor of the ancient indifference of that clan.”

“I am glad to know that I was of some small use to Mother,” Cai Renxiang said.

“But I have not answered your question, have I?” Cai Shenhua mused. “It is true that the Sun are dangerous and powerful. Sun Shao retains many friends in Celestial Peaks, and the Jin stand firmly on his side, forever jealous as they are of their absolute control of the Empire’s harbors being interrupted by the Bai. Although his immediate children are dead, there are many nephews, nieces, and cousins who may yet carry the banner of the Sun family as well,” she said, a sharp smile on her lips. “And Sun Shao’s weaknesses are also his strengths. His sentiment, passion, and tactics led to the sacking and conquest of the Temple Cities and brought low Bai Fuxi and his siblings.”

Ling Qi listened carefully, knowing that when it came to Imperial politics, she was still woefully ignorant.

The Duchess’s smile faded then. “Indeed, the departed Emperor An saw that man for what he was: a chance that would only come once in history. Yet in the end, that opportunity has run out. Tell me what you know of the relationship between the Zheng and the Bai, my daughter.”

“Their enmity runs deeper than history,” Cai Renxiang answered slowly. “They have been rivals since the day that Bai Xiao Lin slew Zheng Fu from ambush at Jinyu Pass.”

“Correct, of course, if not wholly right,” Cai Shenhua tutted. “It is true that the Zheng clan was pleased to see their rivals humbled. However, there is a limit to that. In the end, the Bai and the Zheng are the last remnants of pre-Imperial days. There is a kinship there, even in the depths of enmity. Once, the Ministry of Integrity might have risen as a counterbalance to the eventual Zheng interference, but their rising star losing his Way ended that path. As things stand, a realignment was inevitable. Do you understand, Renxiang?”

“... I do, Mother. Thank you very much for explaining in such a way that I might understand,” Cai Renxiang replied, rising to her feet. As Ling Qi followed her out, she couldn’t help but feel that the future was not going to be peaceful. It seemed that she would be living in interesting times.

But she had been tempered by the forge that was the Outer Sect. Come what may, Ling Qi would meet the future and survive.

Chapter 209-Epilogue

It was over at last.

Bao Qingling allowed herself a sigh of relief as the entrance to her workshop closed overhead, shutting out the light and noise of the outside world. Thick gloves and heavy boots dissolved into wisps of qi, allowing her to feel the welcoming thrum of the threads beneath her fingers and toes as she descended the tunnel. The wispy threads of qi spread invisibly through the air around her faded away, unnecessary here in her nest.

Vibration and movement of the air on her skin carried all of the information she needed. Bianzhi was deep below near the underside of her nest, fangs deep in a struggling wind spirit’s core. Her meal was in the lowest reaches of the third grade, Bao Qingling noted idly, going by its pleading.

Her workroom was just as she left it, her furnace's formations set at an idle burn that would purify the reagents within in preparation for a new batch of elixirs. In the little tunnels of the lower nest, Bianzhi’s sons and daughters sported with Li Suyin’s constructs, making a game of testing the skeletal thing’s reactions and programming.

It was comforting to be back here where every thread was an extension of her senses. Bianzhi’s awareness brushed against her own, mingling with hers through the medium of their shared work. Yes, there were few things which could match the feeling of being perched in her web after an extended time skittering about outside.

It had not been as bad as her time before the sect. She still remembered vividly her life in that hatefully bright and crowded estate. She remembered her many episodes quite clearly. The shaking, the inability to breathe, and the blurring of weak mortal eyes with tears as her chest grew tight and her extremities grew numb. She remembered the feeling of being surrounded and crushed by the weight of the presence of the people around her.

Her alterations to her senses had helped. With her arts active, she could not see the mocking faces and the looming intent of threat in those around her. Experiencing the world in a primarily tactile and spiritual fashion served as a successful filter, even if the practice necessary to ensure that her eyes and expressions still behaved properly had been irritating. This week could, therefore, only be classified as a success.

Yet her mood remained sour. Her brother, Bao Quan, was still convinced that she could be ‘fixed’ and made normal. He cared for her and genuinely so. But he made not the slightest effort to understand her, assuming that she would be better if she were just as bright and gregarious as the rest of the Bao. A Bao who could not gaily talk a dragon into selling its jewel was not a Bao at all, after all.

It was infuriating.

She paused, hanging loosely from the ceiling of the main hall. Her attention brushed over Li Suyin’s workshop where the skeletons of beasts twisted into the shape of men and garbed in drifting silks performed the menial labor of packing up her things.

It had been a strange mood which had led to her taking a ‘student’. She had chosen to oversee the Outer Sect’s Medicine Hall out of a desire for the staggering number of Contribution Points which the position offered, despite its troublesome and time-consuming nature.

During the exams to enter the Medicine Hall, she found herself moved from her indifference. If it had merely been a pang of sympathy for a girl curled in on herself, weathering the bluster and bullying of the trash around her, it would have ended, a fleeting flash of emotion, quickly forgotten. Yet as she oversaw the test, she had seen shaking hands ruining a delicate cut, a stumble spilling a limited reagent, and other little things. Each of them occurred shortly after a downcast blue-haired girl had passed by.

It was nothing above the threshold for which she was meant to prevent, and so she had said nothing as the shy, mutilated girl had ruined the chances of a half dozen entrants. Ultimately, it was the shame and self-loathing she had seen in the girl’s eyes as she turned in her perfect finished project that had moved her to action.

There was nothing wrong with putting trash in its place, and everything wrong with suppressing a true self for the sake of mere social expectation. That was the reason behind her idolization of the Duchess Cai. How could she do anything but admire the woman who had, rather than bending to fit the world, instead bent it to fit her?

Shaking her head very slightly, Bao Qingling moved on, descending into the lower tunnels. A brief and rare smile crossed her pale lips as Bianzhi’s grandchildren skittered over her hands and face, the ticklish feeling of tiny legs on her skin quickly spreading across her arms and neck as they welcomed her home. Li Suyin had some ways to go yet. She was still held back by shame, refusing to admit to the pride she took in ruining her enemies.

As she dropped from the ceiling, casually slowing her slide down the sloped tunnel leading into Bianzhi’s nest with one hand, Bao Qingling felt the last of her irritation ebb. Yes, even the unpleasant parts of this week had proven fruitful. Her student was in the Inner Sect. Her brother, for all of his misplaced concern, had conveyed Father’s satisfaction with her work and a commensurate increase in her allowance.

And the drugs suppressing her cultivation and qi were, if not foolproof to her peers, then close to it. None of her peers would suspect the advances she had made this year.

With the contribution points she had earned this year, a rank in the upper five hundreds was in reach.

***

It all seemed so small at this height. Hou Zhuang peered out the window of their vessel at the cloudscape below and the flashes of green and blue beneath. From this altitude, all seemed at peace. The world had many lessons yet to teach in deception.

“Are you truly satisfied, Hou Zhuang?” Bai Suzhen’s attention was an executioner’s blade pressed against his throat, a blade fit to crack mountains and sunder seas. He blinked tiredly as her words cut through the pressure that had been upon him since their vessel had reached the cloud line. He looked down at his hands, trembling involuntarily from the pressure. It was too bad that there was not enough left of him to feel the same fear in his mind.

Bai Suzhen was the perfect image of a Bai Matriarch, her steel grey hair woven through an elaborate headdress of blades and her lithe figure wrapped in layers of blue and white silk that shifted like the coils of a serpent. The tall woman looked down upon him from her seat, not bothering to hide her disdain.

He bowed his head and spread his trembling hands. “I am an open book, am I not, honored cousin?”

There were no secrets he could hide from a seventh realm cultivator who wished to look. He knew what she spoke of, and in his mind’s eye, he saw his daughter’s eyes. dismissive, contemptuous, and apathetic. Bai Meizhen had grown up well. He was proud of her maturity. Those were the eyes, so like her mother’s, that he deserved.

“You shame Meilin,” Bai Suzhen said. Hou Zhuang winced at the feeling of wetness on his cheek where the words had cut him. A spark of anger flared in his empty heart, but such sparks could not be maintained without fuel. It faded.

“You are correct, honored cousin. All the same, I will serve as well as I can,” Hou Zhuang replied, lowering his head.

Serving was what he was. Like the sword immortals, raised to kill, he had been raised to hide and to see. He was an important tool for his clan’s rise, or so he had thought. How absurd it had been for his half brother to fear his cultivation. He could not want power in that way. Even back then, there was no part of him which could have had such ambitions. Then again, perhaps that was incomprehensible to one raised to rule. He supposed that it was good that the clan had elected to marry him off rather than disposing of him.

The Bai were cruel and unkind to outsiders, but he had not minded at first. His marriage had been brief in the time spans of cultivators, merely a few decades. There had been no passion, no grand romance, between Bai Meilin and Hou Zhuang. Yet she had been a friend, his partner, in her way, far more than the family which had sold him. Her death had severed something in him, and although that loss had allowed him to step into the fifth realm, he had become unworthy of their daughter.

A more worthless father than this old man would be difficult to find.

Bai Suzhen regarded him with the eyes of a serpent staring down at a particularly scrawny rodent. “So be it. I am proud of my niece. I will do what you cannot. Her performance severs the last barriers in the path. I suppose your fecklessness serves some purpose at least.”

Hou Zhuang smiled wanly. It would not be long before his daughter had proper parents again. “Meilin’s network will remain at your disposal. I will not allow her inheritance to rot on the vine.” With their work passed on, he could rest.

“What are your thoughts on the events of the tournament?” Bai Suzhen asked, her clipped tone brooking no disagreement on the change of subject.

“Your timing in bringing out the proposed alliance with Cai Shenhua was a masterstroke,” Hou Zhuang replied. “It will be worth the double agents burned to keep the matter secret. Emerald Seas maintains a strong resource economy, but their ability to leverage it remains limited. The benefits to the alliance are obvious.”

“I did not ask for your praise,” Bai Suzhen rejected.

“The trouble remains our domestic situation,” Hou Zhuang continued, not missing a beat. “Cai Shenhua has her own troubles with unruly vassals not wholly brought to heel, but many of your brothers, sisters, and cousins will be incensed as well. There is already much correspondence flying about.”

“Mm. I assume Anxi is making noise again,” Bai Suzhen said, her attention on him finally growing lighter as she looked to the side in thought, the ornaments in her hair jingling softly. “The conservatives will not countenance him. Two male clan heads in a row has already caused many to grumble. Three would be beyond the pale, no matter his policies.”

“I believe he is throwing his weight behind Bai Zhilan,” Hou Zhuang noted, absently reaching up to wipe the blood from his cheek. “She has a great deal of support from the Red and Green lines as the General of Zhengjian.”

Bai Suzhen’s lips twitched down in distaste. “I see. My planned expansions to our port and naval capacity should bring the Violet lines to my side, and the Blues as well with the infrastructure projects and repairs of the interior. Place your agents among the lesser lines, and begin pushing the alliance. I will see to my brothers and sisters.”

“As you say, honored cousin,” Hou Zhuang said with a tired sigh. “You should know that the discontent is not wholly manufactured by your sisters. Old organizations are beginning to move among the other castes.”

Bai Suzhen frowned. “I am aware of those. We allow the lesser bloodlines their outlets so long as they only grumble. Should they act, we will crush them, as we have done many times before. It would be unfortunate to waste so many Bai lives at this time though. Make certain that they do not move beyond grumbling.”

Saying it like that made it sound easy. As if the growing rumbling from the commoner castes was not growing worse with each passing day. Meilin had been so much better at this. Her understanding of the psychology of the Bai peoples had been much more visceral than his. It would be difficult to quell the spread of further xenophobic sentiment, particularly as the more conservative white serpents fanned the flames.

But he had not remained behind doing this work just to falter as the end approached. His daughter was coming into her own, and Bai Suzhen would soon take her own final steps. He only needed to work for a little longer yet. A worthless father this old man was, but he would make sure that Bai Meilin’s work remained ready for her daughter.

Table of Contents

- - Table Of Contents -
- Chapter 169-Family 1
- Chapter 170-Family 2
- Ling Qingge Interlude
- Bonus Chapter: Alone
- Chapter 171-Family 3
- Chapter 172-Hidden 1
- Chapter 173-Hidden 2
- Chapter 174-Training 1
- Chapter 175-Training 2
- Chapter 176-Training 3
- Chapter 177-Training 4
- Chapter 178-Socialite 1
- Chapter 179-Standing
- Chapter 180-Years End 1
- Chapter 181-Years End 2
- Chapter 182-Years End 3
- Bonus Chapter-Duty
- Chapter 183-Years End 4
- Chapter 184-Years End 5
- Bonus: Argent Sect Promotional
- Chapter 185-Preliminaries 1
- Chapter 186-Preliminaries 2
- Chapter 187-Preliminaries 3
- Chapter 188-Preliminaries 4
- Chapter 189-Prelimaries 5
- Chapter 190-Preliminaries 6
- Chapter 191-Tournament 1
- Chapter 192-Tournament 2
- Interlude: Sun Liling
- Chapter 193-Tournament 3
- Chapter 194-Tournament 4
- Chapter 195-Tournament 5
- Chapter 196-Tournament 6
- Chapter 197-Tournament 7
- Chapter 198-Tournament 8
- Chapter 199-Tournament 9
- Chapter 200-Tournament 10
- Bonus: The Ministry of Integrity
- Chapter 201-Tournament 11
- Chapter 202-Tournament 12
- Chapter 203-Tournament 13
- Chapter 204-Tournament 14
- Chapter 205-Tournament 15
- Chapter 206-Tournament 16
- Chapter 207-Tournament 17
- Chapter 208-Tournament 18
- Chapter 209-Epilogue