A lower slope is where Fu found himself following a path hewn more by human hand than that which was beaten under the feet of many passing animals.
Marbled stone, and flattened at that, ran stepped lengths towards a building of ornate description. The eaves were a tinge of dark sable, and the surrounding four walls were snow-white constructs of painted wood.
A great master resides here. How else could one craft a place so wondrous when oppressed by so many [Spirit Beasts]?
Ahead, the cultivator strolled up each of the steps with a casual air, wrists clasped behind his back. His Bond did the sa, taking to a hop rather than fly as its wings would allow. Neither were concerned when Fu lagged behind, or when he gasped out at the pain his fleshless injury would conjure.
Each of these incidents would push him further behind, and push him to pressure his body harder in order to catch up to the man. Masters did not wait on those beneath them, after all. Such a thing would give too much face.
Eager to stay in this man’s good graces, Fu painstakingly lowered himself to a bow at the staircase’s end.
The cultivator humd with no particular tone, moving through the panelled dooring of his ho without further instruction. There was a clunk of tal landing beyond the walls, and further movents produced quite the din inside. Fu felt his skin prickle as small amounts of Qi escaped the building, and Hushi’s arms felt at it in passing.
Ti passed slowly, and still he waited for an invitation within. What little he knew of decorum was that one should never presu. For a mortal, that would court an early death.
Hushi dismounted, crawling towards the doorway. “We cannot intrude,” Fu warned.
“Please do intrude, disciple. The tea grows cold and I may succumb to boredom long before you pluck up the nerve to enter. Are you not grievously injured? A worse offence, I should think, to leave your corpse upon my entryway.”
Imdiately, Fu hobbled inside the building. Bamboo screens cut off much of the room, leaving a smaller, if significant front section where a set of two chairs and table stood. A tallic teapot was placed centrally, alongside two cups and a wooden tray laden with foreign looking berries.
With his cool stare, the man regarded Fu before speaking. “You are not of the Azure Shoal Sect, are you?”
“I am not, master cultivator.”
“But you have so education on how to sit, yes? To drink and so on?”
“Yes, master cultivator,” replied Fu, sitting down atop the chair.
“My, you are a man of few words. Ti passes slowly in solitude, and if this is the quality of conversation I am to expect upon the [Paifang’s] opening then I may think on changing my travel plans when the next moon cos.” His Bond flitted across the table, pecking the empty cup on Fu’s side.
Hushi grasped curiously at the kettle, recoiling at the heat as Fu stood and poured his host a cup before filling his own. “Gratitude.”
Upon his first sip, an eruption of Qi flowed into him. Gaseous and light, yet trendously more powerful than that which was held in Fu’s [Dantian].
Specks of another source mingled between the internal clouds, and these did not enter, travelling down to his injured leg and begin a great burning sensation.
Heedless of decorum, Fu grunted and saw his missing flesh slowly return.
“Further gratitude, master cultivator,” he said, dipping his head so low that his nose smacked the table’s top.
The cultivator’s silver shrike flew to his shoulder, granting a single chirp. “Think nothing of it. Your efforts in dispatching the [Cerulean Fog Worm] saved from wasting my ingredients on such a lesser [Spirit Beast]. An injury such as that is insignificant in comparison.”
Those words surprised Fu, as the man was clearly a powerful cultivator.
Ink is upon his forehead, marking him as one on the path of the Mind. An Alchemist perhaps? Do his talents lie solely in that field?
“This mortal is glad to be of service.”
“Mortal? That you forget yourself so easily is curious. Co, tell your tale, and that of recent events. Perhaps we will begin with exchanging nas, as is customary. Unless you are to profess yourself as a reincarnation of so shirtless Daoist.”
Fu nodded. “I am Gao Fu, a humble fisherman from the great Thousand Shore City.”
“Well t, Gao Fu, humble fisherman from the great Thousand Shore City,” he replied in a manner that was closer to humour than patronising. “I am Luo, humble Alchemist from the great Four Tiger Pill Society.”
The vacant blink that Fu unleashed must have been clearly visible, for Luo continued to speak, clarifying.
“The Four Tiger Pill Society is the highest ranking Alchemist Association in the Clear Sky Empire. From both your state of dress and the look you continue to give , you are blissfully ignorant of anything beyond your own backwater hovel. Such is the case with many who I greet through your [Paifang].” Luo smiled warmly into his cup, perhaps appreciative of his own work. “As you have stated, you are no disciple, yet I would wonder on how little you truly know if you believe Thousand Shore City to be the only entrance to a [Mortal Grade] realm such as this?”
Mindful of his slackened facial expressions, Fu pulled them taught. “I am aware, yet unknowing, forgive Senior Luo.”
Luo finished his tea, and Fu loudly scrambled from his seat to pour so more. “As is becoming abundantly clear. Let us proceed to the events that led you here, and that of the outside world. You have stoked a spark of interest in , and I would see your words deplete or feed it.”
🀧
If Luo held any opinion about the tale, he did not show it. The kettle was long since drained by the ti it was over, and his only motion was the constant rub of his finger upon the cup’s rim. A gentle noise that filled their silence.
Fu was nothing if not patient, albeit caught between his fostered wariness of cultivators and the need to return his hunt for [Spirit Cores].
“The Cloudy Serpent Sect are a… high-rank sect, shall we say, in the Empire, of an importance that would only confuse you should I explain.”
Caught short by the sudden exchange, Hushi recoiled upon Fu’s head.
“It explains why I can only barely sense the [Array] that is upon your chest. Whover bestowed it upon you is many realms higher than I. It is a [Three Eyed Spying Array], though you are doubtless unaware of what that ans.” Luo pushed from the table to pace. Half in pensive thought, his features creased to further highlight his silver [Ink]. “Tell , Gao Fu, what is the importance of debt to a cultivator?”
Ensuring he was upright, Fu mouthed a-
“When old monsters ascend to their distant peaks, when they have defied the Heavens to the point that [Tribulations] hold little sway, debt is their greatest fear. [Karma], Gao Fu, is the true retribution against those that seek to pillage the world’s energy. n trip not on mountains, they trip on molehills. Do you understand?”
Again, Fu made to answer, parsing his lips only to be cut off.
“A debt between you and I is insignificant, ignorable at our current realms of cultivation. You, in [Foundation] and my own… that is not. The Heavens pity such minor insults as ours. This chis different for those above. [Open Realisation] and beyond. The higher one climbs, the more their actions return to them. Returning ons, plagues on one’s path, or other influences both subtle and grand. It may rise in the form of a defeated rival whose cultivation far exceeds your last encounter, a disaster that blocks one’s cultivation, twists that form impassable bottlenecks. Yet here you stand, among many mortals, among what you have told to be many cities. Invested in by a [True King Realm] cultivator.”
Terms flew in Fu’s direction all at once, so fast that he could barely morise them. The pulse in his lobes that accompanied what he thought to be truth or importance, words recognized by the Qi, was proving hard to deal with.
[Tribulations], [Karma], [Open Realisation]? I truly tread on foreign shores for I recognize so few nas.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The [Three Eyed Spying Array] however, he equated to the talisman that Gon Ma had placed upon his chest before entering the [Paifang].
Sothing he had forgotten in the madness of his plight.
“Spying, Master Luo?”
Luo looked up from his pacing, his thoughts interrupted. “An [Array] that provides a one-directional link between parties. The Four Tiger Pill Society uses these commonly to ensure their employees are working to standard. What you perceive through sight, through sound and what shape your emotions take, all this may be transferred to another. Hence invest.”
“Gratitude,” exchanged Fu, dipping his head.
An aura of silver Qi twisted from Luo’s hands as they broke from the clasp behind his back. It pushed aside the screen segnting his room, and without clatter, folded it against the inner wall.
A nagerie of herbs hung from the rafters, so vast in variety that Fu was unsure which specifically caught his attention.
The inside of his ho held a simple bed in one corner, yet this too was cramped by baskets of lush greenery and open bowls of [Spirit Herbs].
Luo swept clear a space in the room’s centre to reveal an ornate cauldron, stylized with emblems of the moon and with a similar sheen to that of his [Ink] and Bond.
Speaking as he leafed through shelves and compartnts, the cultivator’s Qi flared into a space behind the curtains of ingredients, out of Fu’s sight. “Unbeknownst to you, Gao Fu, your actions have touched upon my existence. One that I wish to keep secret. Whether the Cloudy Serpent Sect wishes to have you live or die, I cannot say, though the use of this [Array] perplexes . In the Clear Sky Empire, a high-rank sect holds a sway that is unfathomable to you, as you may learn if you survive this opportunity. What you know of power, of these agre fools playing at cultivation in the Azure Shoal Sect, they are but specks in the wind. It is not without reason that they could persuade a trained mortal through the [Paifang] to find for even discussing their existence.”
Fu stood then, only to bow.
In truth, he was quite unsure if he could do anything else. “Has this lowly… cultivator made trouble for you, Master Luo? A thousand apologies if that is the truth. I have no doubt that you could stave off any threat a mortal might pose!”
“A mortal here is very different to those in the Clear Sky Empire. Sequestering myself in a [Mortal Grade Realm] only holds benefit if secrecy is maintained. I am here for a reason, Gao Fu, and the [Heavenly Restrictions] in place to prevent cultivators entry are aningless should the Four Tiger Pill Society learn of my whereabouts. They could muster one million trained mortals through if they so wished.”
That took Fu by surprise.
Did he not say that he belonged to the Four Tiger Pill Society? Why would they hunt him if they are one of their own?
“My tongue has beco a sail in the wind, it seems.” Luo moved hastily now, his Qi whipping behind the herbs. A strange occurrence took place upon his right hand, a ring upon his index that flashed once.
Releasing a vortex.
Fu braced himself on the ground as a gust enveloped the room’s interior. Cabinets fluttered open, doors clattered, shelves were laid bare amidst the clink of bottles and clay jars, and the herbs fled from their hooks and baskets, retreating into the storm’s eye upon Luo’s finger.
In a series of heartbeats, the room was emptied of all things save for the screen upon one wall.
“How?” blurted Fu, well aware of his outburst and hoping that the noise might mask any potential offence.
“It is a spatial ring,” replied Luo, stepping once to appear at the room’s far end and burying his head within another cabinet.
I have never laid my eyes on an item so wondrous. When he found in the forest I did not stop to think where he held all that he picked up.
Fu’s envious eyes went to the ring, and internally, he speculated just how many fish he could store within were he to possess such a valuable treasure.
“Yet it seems that after many years it has reached its capacity,” he continued.
Knocks within the cabinet granted the impression of several items being dropped, and the sa emittance shone upon Luo’s finger for but a mont.
Luo passed by Fu shortly after, his Bond a-mount atop his shoulder. “My indulgence for conversation has taken you to pull into the water, Gao Fu. Our debt is resolved now, and we return to our state as two strangers, walking the path of cultivation.” Upon these words, he walked from the building.
Fu lifted from his perpetual bow with a view to see Luo off properly. Six steps took him to the open door and into the late afternoon sun, revealing nothing but empty air.
This building held a high vantage, and spread sight of the surrounding forests for quite so distance. Yet Luo was nowhere to be seen, swallowed by the wind.
Turning back inside, he entered the lotus position to clear his head of all that had just transpired. Hushi did not, endeavouring to explore the barren space further.
The cultivator’s departure was so swift and abrupt, that it made Fu’s head spin. Drawing in a breath, he placed his hands upon his knees, regarding the [Mystic Realm] as frad by the doorway.
The Cloudy Serpent Sect are unthinkable if they can instil such…
He wondered on his thoughts, correcting himself.
Fear would be the wrong choice.
Luo had not presented as though he was terrified for his life, instead it was a reversal of their two positions. A show of the sa deference to Fu’s captors as Fu had shown to him. Many fresh nas circulated in his head. Thoughts of lands beyond Thousand Shore City, and the repetition of what Grandmother Hua had said.
The force that governed all of his ho was playing at cultivation.
Playing.
Twice now had he heard such a thing, and twice had shock touched him.
This world of cultivation is madness. To the strong, those beneath them are viewed as backwards and wrong, easily ridiculed.
Luo had inferred as much, which made Fu question where he stood in the grand sche of things.
Never had he wanted to be a cultivator, yet now that he was he felt entirely out of his depth.
If one couldn’t even na that which he presud to be commonplace among cultivators, the [Karmas] or the [Heavenly Restrictions], Fu felt that he would only make his childrens’ path to freedom that much harder.
The standard education that a cultivator received from their Sect and his own, this was the difference between Heaven and Earth.
Being that he had none.
Two sounds stirred him from his musings, the forr a shadow of what ca next. A light scrape, followed by a longer, raucous rattle as Hushi unearthed sothing to his rear, ending with a sharp thud upon the floor.
Fu t his octopus at the cabinet, seeing the door slight inches ajar and Hushi’s arm’s retracting guiltily. “I could not place Luo’s thoughts. But we should move cautiously in his ho, there may be asures in place to stop thieves, even if nothing remains.” Running his finger along the cabinet door, he urged Hushi back, and flicked.
The cabinet did not burst into flas or anything quite as dramatic, and opened to a mundane set of shelving within. There, a trio of items were stacked atop each other, displaced by a heavy chain of rusted tal at the cabinet’s inner base, no doubt the source of the previous noise.
Curious, Fu lifted each item in turn, first unfurling a set of clothes. To see them at length he draped them at the ends of his arms, impressed by the craftsmanship. These were the clothes of a cultivator, though no uniform of the Cloudy Serpent Sect.
Sleeveless, long, and in a shade of buff so muted that it bordered yellow, as were the matching trousers and footwraps. A fabric, or half-hanfu, several degrees more flexible and soft than that of the Thousand Shore City guards.
Did he discard this for ? A garnt such as this could feed my family for months if I were to sell it.
Stowing it on the shelf, he inspected the two other items.
A belt of peculiar fashion, with two shallow pouches fixed at the rear, one rectangular and rigid, and the other a depression of cloth. The rectangular pouch was unclasped, more a set of leather teeth that stood gaping as not to trap the slender wooden to within.
This, he did not inspect, fastening the clasps instead.
Fu felt strangely exposed as he shed the morsels of fabric that clung to him, knowing that at the other end of this [Three Eyed Spying Array] that was placed on him, eyes were watching. Guilt surfaced in the form of unease as he pressed his hands atop the assudly gifted items.
To take these… it does not feel right. Such fine items are not for the likes of , yet they are left here all the sa.
Before this, when local officials conducted their regular visits, Fu would never hide the number of his catch.
Jing would protest, and the other fisherman on the shore would shake their heads at such foolishness, quite vocal about the tael he would lose in taxes for revealing his true haul.
Scheming his way closer to riches was not a lesson that he wished to impart to his children.
Only diligence, and perseverance. These would see his goal realised, for he knew that patience was a bitter plant, but its fruit was always sweet.
To be given such articles filled his mouth with a bitter taste. Yet he donned them anyway, promising to repay Luo for his kindness should their paths ever cross again.
With the belt clasped around his tunic, he stooped to lift the heavy chain. A corded, frayed thing with four segnts split into both rope and links, ending in a lumped ball no larger than his fist. Hair was wound beneath the head of it, a decoration long since deteriorated that evoked thoughts of barren earth and the defiant stalks of grain that would sotis poke through at the height of [Sumr].
He tested the weight before lifting, and noticed a dim glow at the cabinet’s back. When his eyes fell to study it, he saw a collection of dots with the outline of a fish. And then they were gone, shrinking away to reveal nothing but solid wood.
Do my eyes deceive ?
Fu looked to Hushi for reassurance, finding the octopus fascinated with the pouch upon his belt.
A fish. I am certain of it.
The chain was lighter than he imagined, and… oddly, Fu found it comfortable to hold. Thinking better of swinging the weapon within Luo’s ho, he left the building to stand before the stairs, giving the chain a whirl.
With practised ease.
It flew out, not with a flourish nor in any martial style, for Fu knew none. His hands tread the length between arms, the rear section, or close to it, rubbing as he cycled between feeding more slack, and drawing it back. Simple, efficient techniques that allowed him to strike out at a distance of around five paces.
A far shorter cast than the myriad nets he had flung from the back of his boat over a lifeti of fishing, yet sufficient, he thought, to place a worthy dent in any [Spirit Beasts] that dared co within range.
Hushi settled back atop Fu’s head, passing along delight as the chain circulated the air around them, and with it, a fresh draw of [Qi]. A re taste that, in his movents, Fu felt rising in his [Dantian], the octopus already set to a gleeful syphon.
“Hushi,” he said, slowing his wide motions and catching the chain to wind it around his forearm. “Master Luo’s trash is our treasure, do you not think?” Fu allowed himself a small smile, and bowed back at the vacant house in respect of the gifts. He did this three tis, and then stood taller to mark their next destination.
Only pausing when he thought of the book that was clasped uselessly to his belt.
A sha, I suppose, that I cannot read.
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