“Water need not share its destination or why it doth flow.
What words might it say?
Alone am I
a droplet
Under your gaze
the river
Perhaps.”
“[Origin Qi],” by Author Unknown
[New Cloud Prefecture]
[Winter]
[True King Realm] [Mist Abundance] [Beast Realm] [Dao Profundity]
This breath was sothing forged anew.
[Winter].
How long has it been?
Hushi quivered to feel it. Shuidi grew tearful.
“[Winter’s] touch,” tasted Fu, drawing lungfuls that spoke of greed and longing. “I had almost forgotten.”
The invigoration of his [Season] sparked substance into his form. His [Core], his [Constitution] and [Spirit]. To walk here had him feel more, as he knew Zhu would feel likewise.
“Gone are [Spring’s] numbers. That said, I’ve no surprise that our Sect might conquer a realm so fully that both the Emperor’s na and presence are gone.”
Fu nodded at Zhu’s words, and set a respectful gait down filagree streets.
Of lesser importance to jade of either hue, gold patterned the inlaid serpents about this city. A true settlent of spanning reach and tended walkways, brushed lightly with the gentle sway of mists. In truth, it evoked much of Divine Clouded City and their Sect’s ways.
As if all of [Spring’s] influence had been eradicated.
Aides flocked to record these twin arrivals, and leered with a knowing expectancy. Seven in total, whose concerted [Spirit Serpents] showed higher regard for numbers, chits and multi-tiered abaci than those present on their myriad lists.
“The [New Cloud Prefecture] extends its welco, disciples. In formality, and to err on caution’s side, we ask for records and association. Forgive this impertinence, but the orders of Elder [In Orchestra, the Python Sees Gold] cannot be misrepresented.”
A small challenge rose.
“Records fly in the face of our duty, venerable scholars,” bowed Fu, drawing alarm from the entire cabal at such face.
“Master cultivator, you honor these lowly aides too much.”
“Ten thousand blades cannot write a great poem, nor create the artistry that a quill might grant. No Sect thrives without the efforts of your appointnt, and for that I cannot give enough,” he said. “Might there exist an entrance or ans of record for those that shy further from the sun that others of our great Sect?”
Murmur overca the aides.
So fresh force conspired behind Fu. Minor drifts within the air that he had co to know well. So he turned, finding that Zhu was already greeting this new arrival.
One of dreaded black against the Sect’s chief crimson.
“Amituofo, brothers,” she greeted, no less than terrorizing the aides into granting them distance. “This ever-seeking serpent extends her greeting. Your Master awaits.”
The ti for walking ceased, for what followed was a flight across rooftops. Deeds of yore, for this pressed much nostalgia of the Four Corners Prefecture upon the two ghosts and three partners, ending only when they ca upon a vastness of chained pavilions.
No main entrance welcod their approach, nor crowds of sun-facing cousins. Their door was shaded: fitting for those that darkened it.
Ever was there an association of… in truth, Fu held poor words for it.
Mundanity? Clinicality? Reservation, perhaps.
Those of the Clouded Courts followed no ostentatious path. Subtlety reigned where elsewhere shone honor, renown and prestige. What use were such concepts to a ghost? To one proclaid dead or as mystery to their life before the [Dao Oath] was sworn?
This Clouded Court - these headquarters within the New Cloud Prefecture defied Fu’s thoughts on the matter.
For here crowded a pavilion of golden gardens, where not one leaf went untouched by decadence. Yet, open to the misty skies and with sun overhead, the shadows were long indeed.
At an innocuous internal screen, their escort stalled.
“Ask, sister,” said Zhu. “If there’s sothing to know, silence won’t answer it.”
An impression moved upon her mask, quirking unseen lips into a smile. “Amituofo. It is said Master Ban’s disciples speak openly and suffer no insult. Novel to see, novel to hear. This ever-seeking serpent would ask on a confirmation of rumor.”
Tanshuai rose to Zhu’s shoulder, pensive.
“Yes. Tanshai asks how much it’s worth? A bet, no doubt, from which you might stand to benefit.”
The daoist quirked further. “Five high-grade spirit stones.”
Fu entertained a small smile, suppressing Shuidi’s silent snort. “But sister, surely a daoist rejects earthly desires such as wealth and gambling?”
“Amituofo. Any donations are welco,” she laughed. “The [Boundless Dao] would not frown upon this, no?.”
“Ask,” repeated Zhu, though his nature was mirthful.
“A March of Serpents. All know of this deed. That Master Ban’s disciples severed ten thousand realms with a turn of the sleeve. The true total is of debate. If the venerable brothers might enlighten this penniless disciple…”
All know of this deed?
An action known was no behaviour of ghosts.
Bingbai might have words on this, despite his previous praises.
Zhu considered this. “Two high-grade spirit stones.”
The tithe in question entered his palm with a flick.
“Not in one turn,” he said. “But in total, in Red, Orange, Yellow and Green: Twenty three thousand, eight hundred and sixty one.”
What narrow, fabric slit availed her eyes of sight, widened.
“By the Heavens. Twenty three thousand- Amituofo,” she rapidly blinked, steadying the [Spirit Serpent] that near cascaded from her fabrics. “How?”
Fu slid open the screen. “Farewell, sister. May serpents guide your Path.”
It shut of its own accord, casting sound about a second garden. A tranquil affair of cobalt fronds and reflective pools, wherein Bingbai and Guang lood.
“Disciple Zhu. Disciple Fu.”
His tone held warning.
Shuidi shrunk upon Fu’s breast, squirming from the [Spirit Tortoise’s] glare.
“A matter has co to my attention,” intoned Bingbai, grimly stroking his beard.
Zhu cast the high-grade spirit stone at their Master.
All tension broke at Bingbai’s chuckle. “Oh-ho! Rumor states my disciples as peerless, yet one stone is all they might plunder?”
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“We sha our great master,” Fu said, and each disciple bowed deep before the now-lounging form.
Hushi left his midden, offering the sa platitudes to Guang aside Shuidi and Tanshuai, conversing of matters outwith their partners’ attention.
Fu breathed shallow as the [Three-Eyed Spying Array] ward.
“A bath, a drink, and a conversation. Disciple Wen Pinxui has sent her reports ahead, though admittedly, I know not how that young monster had the ti. Ah, the Heavens are full of mysteries, no? Go, disciples, for I’ve news both grim and glad.”
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The dicinal herbs were pungent, and Fu felt half-burned by their odour. In a tranquil pool of his own he allowed the waters to scour him, rejuvenating all that had been lost in the [Trials] of these last weeks.
Here, the three ruminated.
Master Ban should not be kept waiting.
Thunder passed in Fu’s outstretched palm, quieting his desire to rush. For there beat a crackling heart, drawn from his chest with only minor thoughts.
[Thunder’s Second Call].
With advancent in his [Mantra of False Reunions] these two selves of his had aligned, and yet, the Old One remained absent. His ntal energies: his presence. Still they facilitated the burden of parsing twinned senses.
Impressions of the mantra’s growth persisted in Fu’s mind, deepening once Hushi and Shuidi had replicated the patterns within their own [Channels]. A feat far easier with threefold will and history to guide them.
Shuidi’s insight was as ever, deep.
The [Spirit Crab] pinned where ntal energies could flow, grazing each other about the knots this technique had ford in their [Channels]. In his haste, and in the forgiving circumstances of its acquisition, Fu had neglected a proper study.
With practice, one body might think on two things. A mind separated and tasked. One half for Qi formation or study, morization, expansion of [Senses], minor efforts in cultivation, Qi absorption, [Dao] rumination: the possibilities were endless.
Though their Path held a singular purpose.
Fu’s second self breezed at the poolside.
Fu’s first self left the waters, dripping dicinal waters upon the marble shore.
“Old One, I hope you do not view this as short-sighted,” he said, plunging [Thunder’s Second Call] into the wind-borne chest.
Lightning erupted then.
Teal forks about a searing corona, prompting Fu to shut his eyes for fear of blindness.
Hushi retracted, for scent ca in overwhelming proportions.
dicinal herbs upon skin, and dicinal herbs one stride distant. Two selves drew this in from dislocated sides. But the sensations deepened.
Touch. Taste. Scent. Sound.
Most prevalent, sight.
For as Fu’s eyes twice opened, he saw there naked flesh and the naked flesh saw him.
No longer did air comprise his second self, but that of skin and the [Heavenly Spectre’s Shroud].
Their [Mantra of False Reunions] humd, strained by the separate processes of steering two living bodies.
Two minds that went briefly beyond that of an order-following construct.
Fu twice clad himself swiftly, donning a leisurely roqun set to aid in comfort. Their backs t as each half adopted the lotus, supported by Hushi and Shuidi on opposing sides.
His ring opened, landing sothing peerless in his palm.
The [Constellation Impacting Pill] was swallowed without further thought.
Brother. Sister. Brace, for I feel the precipice of a storm.
As with all [Pills] before he felt the nova within his [Core]. Violence through heat and sublimation, only expanding.
But his [Spirit] blinked to see what ca in place of tornt.
A golden sea lapped against his vessel, though the break of his oar was all that disturbed these waters.
Thus he rowed.
And rowed.
Crossing an eternal expanse of these gentle waves until the first great tree broke from beneath.
A crooked spire of li-green trunk that bore infinite bushels of fruit upon each bowing arm.
“You would sate us, noble tree, and yet what we hunger for lies hence,” he called, rowing ever onward.
The second beast of these depths drew a novel shadow under-hull. An empty titan of whiskers to rival the sky, aimless or wandering as it saw fit.
To this he said nothing, neither spoke the [Spirit Octopus], nor even the guilt-drenched [Spirit Crab], for all held a sha when rowing further.
Could he will his destination forth with all speed, Fu would break his oar against the idle current. He would muster [Dao] to chase winds and blow to a final offering- no, a final suggestion of all that might be and all that could be sought.
But the third effigy drew darker thoughts, and this tri-partate soul grew fearful of the great sway it held upon them.
For through this peerless gold ravened a gaping maw whose edges held polished ivory for each whirling wave. Alone in this sea, it whispered conspiracy, of how the Path against Heaven could be theirs alone.
How they might breathe and take all the air, water and mist beneath countless stars for their own.
Shuidi stared longest into this abyss.
Hushi remained at her side.
Fu’s oar stuttered but once. “If we take all, then what might be left for them?”
His vessel pushed to the furthest horizon.
Glee pushed this final sight beyond his grasp, for it ca as a flock of scattered feathers. Plus of gentle, arcing light that settled only when Fu’s heart had stilled.
When it had settled on its choice.
So with peace instilled the feathers danced in formation, calling upon the waters to aid in what must be done. Before them this golden expanse rose, held betwixt a static fra in which these three could see perfect symtry.
Save that Fu stood alone.
“Our desire is not so simple as this,” he said, and set his palm against the reflection.
The sea t his will.
Gold surged in uniform, and the realities of physical form and ntal realm aligned about them.
Each droplet was potential, stockpiled within Bingbai’s [PIll].
From gold and conjured will the seas roiled upward. This realm lost much of its luster, dimming so that all light centered on two additional figures.
Instinct told him of other losses.
Of potential that could not be regained. [Lightning Qi] and [Spiritual] talents. An [Intent] to rival [Tribulations] or blood that made quiet the wildest storm.
Yet only one course held benefit.
Hushi and Shuidi rose in reflection, poised across from their first selves.
Again, no re constructs.
They focused upon the [Mantra of False Reunions], cycling the flow of ntal energies that they might observe themselves through the eyes ahead.
Gold rushed in pursuit.
Thus followed a saturation, tinting the [Twin Heartplu’s Mockery] with arcs of the sa hue as it raged within.
Where his [Channels] of [Mind] had beco helical, he saw the leftmost burn bright. As did his second self see the sa in its form, leaving scattered traces in their opposing side.
The [Pill] warned of its end.
Their [Ink] burned as gold overca all.
“Wake,” ca the gentle hand.
“Wake,” ca another.
Fu did, and did not.
For already was he awake.
He rose from the lotus to the reflection of prior monts, and yet the golden waters had long receded for parts of flesh and mist.
“It is done,” he said.
The Fu before him nodded. “It is.”
All manner of instinct flooded the pair, and without preamble a set of Sect hanfu were drawn from storage.
Hushi’s double, nor Shuidi’s had cause to dress.
“And how-”
“In [Core] and [Dao].”
“Truly? Then-”
“If it is willed.”
“To return it?”
“re minutes have passed.”
The six fird, or perhaps the halves, and their gaze went to [Ink] and internal things.
[Twin Mockeries Heartplu]
ASCENDED.
[Heartplu of Clouded Schisms]
[Senses] 130
[Boon] awarded.
[Through Heart, Cos Thunder’s Righteous Thoughts] As with the duality of clouds your halves shine and darken alone, roaring only when t once more.
“The Heavens…”
“Are ever vague.”
But instinct told more.
The [Core] within both, well depleted but whole. The [Ink] patterned upon their arms, aglow in perfect symtry.
“It need not be a mystery,” Fu voiced.
In simplicity, his mind had split. Their [Spirit] inhabited secondary forms, independent of the other yet a half of one great whole, undiminished.
Shuidi t her second, setting pincer against pincer.
Impressions rose.
The [Mantra of False Reunions] sparked, agitating the Qi in one half of their inner, helical [Channels].
mories of this mont entered Fu. The view of himself, as seen from paces away. Secondary vantages for sound and touch.
A tithe of [Air Qi], drawn from mundane breath in these passing seconds.
“Our cultivation is independent,” he began.
“Yet there is a yearning,” he said, placing a palm upon his breast. “Then, [Through Heart, Cos Thunder’s Righteous Thoughts]...”
“The [Boon] is demystified. We grow apart: a shine and a darken, so says all that is inscribed upon our [Ink].”
Though the voices were apart, they were as ever as one. Fu thought of them as such as he spoke once more.
A monologue, and no conversation.
“Our [Mantra of False Reunions] fades from [Ink]. Repurposed in place of this [Boon]. Truly, Master Ban is peerless to create such a [Pill]. The Clouded Courts know no equal, do they?”
“The world is vast yet, youngling. But for now, this old master might agree.”
The three halves rounded, for this voice ca not from within.
No.
Cloud pooled from the physiques of all gathered. Confluence in teal tones that took shape between them.
First of whisker, then scale, fin and wizened eyes.
“Old master,” they bowed. “How can this be?”
The catfish quivered, cycling the air about this room. He stole several laps, impressing no small joy as he flew. “Long passed was my [Spirit] its own. If nad, this old one is [Constellation Seed]. No less. And yet, now more.”
Bingbai’s [Pill] surfaced in mory.
Sha accompanied it.
“Forgiveness is offered, venerable old master. A thousand-fold. Had we used the [Constellation Impacting Pill] on you, solely, this clouded form might have beco more.”
“Speak not of it. A [Foundation Realm] seed is unworthy. My wroth could never simr had this act been taken. No, younglings. No. The taste of this your Master imparted: a treasure granted even second-hand. His gift will see repaynt.”
Sixfold attention went to their spatial ring.
On what lay within.
“Perhaps then we might find fortune,” he said. “For in monts this Path may well end before we see it used.”
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