Lai Jianjun sat breathing slowly in the stark chamber. His breath was measured even as his thoughts wandered. If he’d been stronger Lai Meixiu wouldn’t have left him behind. He brought his awareness back into his body; to the unseen world he could only feel.

He inhaled, air filled his sinuses, it was cold in his throat, and his chest expanded, his back straightened. His lungs caught and he let the breath go. It was warm and thick in his throat and in the silence the quiet sound of shifting air filled his ears. He continued the exercise, letting the qi in the air flow through his body.

It’d been a long while until he’d been able to detect qi, and even now he could barely sense the vital force that surrounded him. Like the steam that drifted from a bowl, there and gone. Did what he did even count as sensing qi? He shook his head; he’d gotten lost again. He let out a raspberry of a breath and opened his eyes.

He hopped to his feet and left the small chamber. He slid wood and paper doors open and wiggled his shoulders.

There was an aromatic and savory smell in the air that grew stronger as he made his way to the common room. He skirted the small table that took up most of the room and peaked into the adjoining kitchen. Jo Meilin was stirring a pot of something, everything seemed normal.

Lai Jianjun took a seat at the table; after a moment he drummed his fingers on the table. His gaze wandered around the room, and he was about to get up and fetch the new book when Jo Meilin came out of the kitchen holding two steaming bowls. She looked surprised to see him there. He brightened.

“I thought you would still be cultivating,” she said

“I couldn’t focus,” he responded

“Ah, your sister? The young master can handle herself fine, there’s no need to worry,”

“I’m not worried. Just- why can’t I go with her?”

“You know why,” she set the steaming bowls in front of them, “Besides, you’re too young to join an expedition.”

Lai Jianjun harrumphed and pulled the pale turquoise bowl closer to himself. Steam drifted from the top and he dragged his spoon through the soup. Why did everyone treat him like he was still a kid. “I’m almost as old as her,” he grumbled

Jo Meilin waved her hand in the air and swallowed. “Be grateful you’re as young as you are, it’s gets harder to climb out of the first realm when you’re my age.” Though her tone was flippant the corners of her mouth fell, and her eyes took on a faraway look.

Lai Jianjun looked at her, his still tongue restless. How could he comfort her when there was nothing he could do? Was this why Lai Meixiu had told him to keep an eye on her? Jo Meilin took another bite, and he turned his attention to his own bowl. He stared into the soup, at the beads of oil in the broth, the vibrant white and green of the onion, and the opaque dumpling cases that filled most of the bowl.

“Eat up before it gets cold, don’t let my hard work go to waste,” said Jo Meilin

“Right!”

The two ate in an easier silence, and if Jo Meilin glanced at Lai Jianjun with something like regret, he didn’t notice.

Lai Jianjun belched loudly and rubbed his stomach appreciatively, leaning back in his chair.

Jo Meilin grimaced, though she smiled a second after. “Alright you, go attend one of the classes or something. I need to tidy up here,”

“Sure, yeah, will do,” said Lai Jianjun “I just need to grab a couple things.”

He stepped out the door and took a breath of fresh air. A quarter down the path to the main body of the sect he glanced back at the secluded house the sect had provided for them and left the path. He made his way through the sparse trees and tall grass to one of the ledges on the column of beige-gray rock on which their house rested. Far below him he could see them. Cultivators fought with wooden weapons. The ringing clacks were muffled, and their gold and black robes shone dully. He sat down away from the precipitous ledge, but close enough so that he could still see. He set his bag aside and watched the golden beetles in the courtyard. His eyes were always drawn to the duels. His hand opened and closed reflexively, grasping nothing as he watched a pair run back and forth. Left bombarded right’s defense with a curved sword while right used his straight sword to shed the blows. Right gave ground, left’s blows fell like rain. Right surged into left’s guard and tossed her away. Left landed on her feet and the pair exchanged a glance. Both took a couple measured steps, circling each other, waiting. Left exploded forward, sword raised. Right sidestepped the downward cut and his blade smacked left in the back, sending her into the dirt.

They fought with varied weapons and styles, and he took in as much as he could. Spear and sword, and even double shield forms. Too soon the duels were over.

Lai Jianjun extracted a small brush from his bag and walked to a small clearing, close to the path that led down the steep hill to the sect. He brandished his sword and glared at his own opponent. He danced back and forth in the tall grass, exchanging ephemeral strikes. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he launched blow after blow and when the lunge came, he was ready. He deftly sidestepped and his own blade was scarcely a second behind the assassin. The red sword trembled in the air and soft breeze rustled the trees and brushed the grass. The vision faded and he stood alone in the clearing, breathing heavily. He turned to face the sun and closed his eyes. The warmth felt nice on his face, and he stood there, unthinking for a moment. He wondered if Lai Meixiu was already fighting demonic beasts, challenging rival cultivators, and tricking sage spirits. He looked down and kicked at the dirt.

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He walked back over to his pack and leaned heavily against the trunk of an old peach tree. The sun was a little past its zenith and the sky was bule within blue, paling at the edges. The mountains, forests, and lakes of the country stretched out, and in the distance sprawled Tang, the capital city of Jin. Far to the south, on the horizon, sat a solitary flat peaked mountain. There was longing in his eyes. How long had it been since he’d been back home? His head tilted upward; he was of Lai! He would rise, and when he did his father’s gaze would hold no pity. He clenched his fist.

He let out a tired breath, his thoughts were jumbled. The idea of Ye Yongzheng training his cousins left him feeling oddly bitter. He chewed on the feeling. His stomach rumbled, and he made his way back to the path, meandering down the steep path to the sect’s dining hall.

Cai Junjie was eyeing another cook who looked to be packing up.

“Something on your mind?” asked Lai Jianjun

Cai Junjie blinked in surprise but grinned easily. “Oh, it’s just you. I just don’t know how He Chen does it,” his gaze returned to his rival, “It’s not like she’s using spiritual ingredients,” he said almost to himself, “how is she beating me, she’s only here for lunch! I wonder if-”

“If she did, I might get lunch from her,” said Lai Jianjun

Cai Junjie glanced at him with a blank expression

Lai Jianjun smiled with his eyes “Just kidding just kidding, you know I would never,”

Cai Junjie filled a porcelain bowl with a heaping portion of fried rice “You’re always too late anyway, without me you’d have to get Jo Meilin to make you lunch too.”

Lai Jianjun frowned and crossed his arms, “what makes you think I wouldn’t make something myself?”

“You might try” smiled Cai Junjie, passing over the bowl and two meat-filled buns.

Lai Jianjun scoffed but accepted the offered tray.

In a moment he found his usual table on the edge of the courtyard. He relaxed in the shade of a large willow tree and opened the book he’d had transcribed from the sect library. He ate while he read, every now and then brushing errant grains of rice and the occasional pea off the pages. The body cleansing manual of the three-fold path was more different than he’d expected. Most manuals differed in one form or another, but the three-fold path’s execution was bizarre. Instead of cleansing one’s meridians one by one, the path his own manual followed, the three-fold path opened all twelve meridians at the same time.

He took a bite of the soft white bun and sucked in a breath. He opened his mouth wide and sucked air in and out as the bun burned the inside of his mouth. After that he chewed gingerly. Steam whisped out of the bun and he watched it. How it curled in the air, faded into nothing, and disappeared when he blew on it. After a long moment he packed up his things. On his way back he gave the bowl and tray back to Cai Junjie and walked back toward their small house, buns in hand. They were still too hot.

Halfway up the path Lai Jianjun noticed Jo Meilin pacing in the clearing next to the house. He slunk into the tall grass and watched her walk to and fro. He could hear her talking to herself, but he couldn’t make out the words. It did seem a little strange, he thought, as he stalked forward, careful not to make too much noise.

Jo Meilin walked back and forth engrossed in discussion. She clenched her fists and stopped mid-pace. She looked into the distance, away from him. He shifted closer. She took a step away. She walked until she stood on the rocky ledge. He couldn’t help but think she looked defiant. She peered over the precipice, and his heart was leapt into his throat, he couldn’t take it.

He burst out of the grass. “What are you doing!” he shouted

Jo Meilin whirled to face him, and shock slowly turned to horror. Their eyes met bewildered and terrified, her mouth was half open in surprise and her arms windmilled for balance. He surged forward. Ever so slowly she tipped backward. She screamed and disappeared from sight, over the edge. The scream cut off.

Lai Jianjun skidded to a stop, his blood roared in the silence. Trembling he peered into the abyss. Far below lay a broken figure, a crumpled speck in the distance. He stood there frozen, mute with horror.

When he moved, he stumbled, falling in a heap. He dragged himself away from the precipice. The sky looked wrong and when he turned around the smooth rock and placid trees were alien.

Tears blurred his vision, but he wiped them away. He had to- he had to go get her. What else could he do? Numbly he walked down the path to the main sect, by the homes and courtyards that lined the steps, by the gardens and various workshops. He walked past the three-story assignment hall and through the towering dark wood gate.

He stopped, staring at the giant that loomed over him. The gatekeeper looked down at him and held out a hand.

“Exit pass,” he said

“I- er, I don’t have one, I-I dropped something,” Lai Jianjun stuttered. The phrase felt lewd in his mouth and his eyes prickled with tears.

The gatekeeper stared down at him, and he felt walls closing in around him. After a moment the gatekeeper stepped aside, and Li Jianjun let out a shaky breath. On weak legs he made his way down the unending steps that led to the bottom of the mountain. He thought of the first time he’d gone up the steps, with Lai Meixiu and Jo Meilin and stopped. He glanced back and whipped forward, breath racing. The gatekeeper was watching him.

His steps were mechanical, and he forced himself to take one after another. A bizarre part of him noted that rolling down the stairs would be faster.

When He reached the bottom of the mountain he collapsed. The sky was a perfect. He remembered Jo Meilin standing defiantly against the blue backdrop. Tears began to flow. He held his head in his hand. It was all his fault, she’d had fallen because of him, he’d killed her. He squeezed his eyes shut. No no no no no, this is all a bad dream, everything is wrong.

“Dude, are you alright?”

Lai Jianjun looked up stricken. A blurry Jo Meilin stood in front of him with a concerned look on her face.

“Huh, Odd dream,” said Jo Meilin, as Lai Jianjun impacted her, wailing.