I was with my Mentor, so of course we would have visited another beautician. This time, it wasn’t just from the outer districts. No. After getting us both clothes from the highest end outer-district store, she took us into the inner district closer to the Prefect’s palace, then to the Core District, shelling out actual gold slips on the way.
The Fairy Goddess was a spa experience I would be hard-pressed to forget. The aromas were several times more fragrant and deep, more interesting than the surface-level overpowering musk from that village’s bath-house. The water had been on the bleeding edge of scalding, enough to completely relax every single weary muscle in my body, relaxing me enough that I dipped into the State of Enlightenment, absently circulating my Chi in the exquisite water.
When that was done, the attendants had carefully filed us to be massaged, our tenderized muscles barely proving any resistance to their oils and soft, but forceful hands.
Instead of ending the massage and sending us to be prettied up, however, they did something ingenious. While the massage went on, they sat us upright and had the attendants apply the clays and carmine, bathing most of my body in the powder, transforming my complexion from a sun-kissed tan to a fragile white. If I had to be honest, I didn’t like my skin this way, but the look on Mentor’s face would be worth it.
Besides… I was pretty.
It felt good to say that, while knowing it to be true.
After shelling out some more money, the spa had decided to outfit us as well, dressing us in pure silk, white, blue and purple in colour, sparkling with the light.
While Mentor posed in front of the mirror, looking younger than ever, I still managed to come off as uncultured. Affecting more pride into my posture, I stood straight, coming off as a haughty noble who looked down on those who didn’t spend gold on a single meal.
I broke into a slight grin, looking at my Mentor having the time of her life, before clasping my hands together, index-finger against index finger. “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo, such sin, such suffering,” I droned tonelessly. Mentor turned to me with an amused frown and slapped my shoulder.
“Cheer up, girl,” she said. “Don’t you think you look stunning?”
“Yeah,” I said, “But… it’s just not me.”
“Well,” she shrugged. “Right now, it is. Just have fun while it lasts,” then she began to drone tonelessly. “Beauty is impermanent.”
I giggled at that. I turned to the mirror again and twirled a little. I did look good.
000
On our little run in the Inner District of the city, Mentor had taken me to a bookstore where she bought a couple of tomes for me; the five classics, I Ching, Classic of Poetry, Book of Rites, Book of Documents and Spring and Autumn Annals.
She bought four more books as well, mostly philosophical in nature: the Analects of Confucius, Mencius, Doctrine of the Mean and the Great Learning, all of which she told me to read and study.
I almost would have thrown the books in her face, until she brought us to our quarters.
A year in prison would make any room look more attractive than the dreary emptiness of a cell, but this… this was where I imagined royalty slept in my head.
The room on the hotel was wide, easily ten times the size of my cell. A desk and a chair, carved immaculately from wood, covered by silk upholstery, sat imperiously on a raised platform. The sections of the room were separated by bead curtains, a raised bed right opposite a sliding door to the balcony which was half the size of the room.
And this was my space.
Mentor giggled a little. “I will pamper you for a bit, disciple. Remember that I have given you work. Do make sure to not skimp,” her face switched to neutral in a near instant. “Or else.”
“Carrot and stick?” I asked.
“The best method there is,” She said sunnily before turning around, spinning on her heels. “Remember, if you wish to invite boys, make sure I don’t find out.”
I ignored the dumb comment and set my sights on the pile of books on the table. Time to bring my new reading skills up to snuff.
000
Well, that confirmed it. I could read. Was I immune to getting bored from it? No. The books were long-winded and roundabout, almost as if the scholars couldn’t find out a way to put up a higher barrier between the educated and the uneducated, so they made sure that even the educated would be given pause by the incessant word-salad.
With much patience, and fear brought on from my Mentor’s non-subtle threats, I managed to finish each book, learning enough about them to give the cliff notes should anyone ask. Once done, I fell into Enlightenment and played with my Chi.
I was interrupted by a hotel attendant knocking on my door, carting in a full-course breakfast. The sun was out. I had literally worked away the night. I had barely even given thought to how much time had passed.
It wasn’t like I was particularly fascinated by the books, but… it felt good being able to read. It was like a whole dimension had opened up to me, bringing me across a higher plane. This might have been what the Monk had referred to; transcendence.
The transcendence he spoke about was all-encompassing. I was merely playing catch-up with my betters, him included. Still, I wouldn’t feel bitter about my strides.
I did not skimp on savouring the breakfast. Who knew when Mentor would ever feel this magnanimous anyway?
Still, I did my best to not completely mess up my clothing or make-up, eating daintily , but leaving not a single trace of food on my plate.
A noble would probably have left mounds of food behind, secure in the knowledge that food would never, not in a thousand years, be a problem for them. On any other day, I would have seen it as an injustice, but knowing that nobles could never become Martial Warriors… that was a just dessert.
With nothing else to do but to enjoy the view from the balcony, I dove headfirst into Enlightenment once again. Mentor didn’t want to teach me the basic principles of techniques, so I guess I would have to stumble upon it myself, and besides, simple techniques weren’t actually ‘milestones’, were they?
Besides, I cinched the last milestone on my own. What could possibly go wrong this time?
000
The caravan had finally arrived in Jixing City. Bai Guo had, alongside Mei Yun, explained their wishes to her parents to be bethrothed to each other when the time came, when he would return from the mountains of Kunlun, and after he would have vanquished the Horde.
He didn’t inform them of the last part, knowing that discretion was the better part of valor. The Mei family had assured him that they would stay in Jixing City for the foreseeable future, a minimum of ten years, which he felt was acceptable.
He would destroy the Horde long before ten measly years had passed.
All that remained for him, now, was to ask for directions on where the mountains of Kunlun were. Once he found, he would be on his way.
By accident, he bumped into a lovely lady dressed in a form-fitting attire, with voluminous sleeves and a spear attached to her back. “Watch it,” she growled.
He bowed his head at her. “My apologies,” and he was on his way. She was beautiful, yes, but her attitude left much to be desired. Nowhere was the supple warmth that a woman was supposed to hold, and where did she get off carrying a weapon around town? That was a man’s burden.
Now, his heart was aching. Although he had barely been separated from Mei Yun for an hour, he still did miss her, and her curvy body, comforting smile, and full lips. It was almost enough to make him throw his mission away.
Almost.
He trudged on, soldiering on like a soldier would, asking around in the streets for directions to the mountains of Kunlun.
“Go buy a map or something,” a particularly rude old man huffed.
“Where?” He asked.
“Beats me, just get lost. Children these days, asking stupid questions,” he mumbled under his breath. He began asking around for a map, or a store which sold maps. The caravan had paid him for his dutiful protection, so it was not as if he was completely helpless.
Eventually, he did find a cartographer’s store, a shop cluttered with papers, maps and geometrical instruments. Behind the counter, the cartographer worked away on a map, perhaps copying an older map and transcribing it onto new paper. “I want a map to Kunlun.”
The cartographer stood up, turned to him and narrowed his eyes. “Do you know where you are, kid?”
Well, he had travelled from the frontlines up north, but he had no real idea where Jixing City was located in comparison to it. “No…?”
“Do you know where the Kunlun mountains are located?” He asked.
“No.”
“They are North-West of China,” he explained. “You are in one of the southernmost points in China, roughly three-thousand kilometres away. You’re not looking for a map of Kunlun, you want a map of China.”
Bai Guo had lost his patience. “Look, do you have the map or not?”
He dug underneath the coutner and retrieved a large scroll of paper, as long as an arm. “This one will be two gold.”
“That’s outrageous!” Bai Guo complained.
“I’m not your average cartographer, kid,” he said. “I’ve spent years compiling maps, and adventuring across all of China so that I could draw the most accurate map in the Empire. You won’t ever get a better deal than one with me. Two gold is really the least I can accept for this hard work.”
Bai Guo shook his head. “No, you could just copy the map to new papers all you want!”
“You’re not paying for the paper, genius,” the cartographer sighed. “I’m not about to let the culmination of my hard work go for a lower price. One and a half gold, and if you’re asking for anything lower, I’ll toss you out my store.”
Bai Guo sighed, slapping down a single gold coin, along with five silver taels. The cartographer took the money solemnly, and handed the young soldier his map. He unfurled the map, taking in the overly-transcribed image of the entirety of the Empire, from the front lines separating civilization from the savage Horde furthest up north, to the South China Sea down south, with the Gobi Desert in the middle.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
…Had he continued his path across the Gobi desert instead of turning around with the caravan, he would have actually reached Kunlun! Instead, he had ambled about in a completely roundabout fashion, going further and further away from the mountain chain.
As it stood, now, the journey would be a month away on foot. Truly, the Heavens had a good sense of humor. Grumbling, he accepted a roll of black cloth from the cartographer, wrapping it around the map so as to protect it from the elements, and strapped it gently around his back, right above where his Guan Dao was located. With that, he walked out of the establishment with a renewed sense of direction.
The best thing to do would be to buy a horse with the one piece of gold which he had left, but he also needed the money for travel rations, and eating wild animals without the knowledge of which bits to eat had not served him well on the trail.
Eventually, he decided that it would be better to tire his feet out than to naively send both himself and his horse out to certain death crossing the Gobi desert. After all, no horse could possibly traverse the Himalayas, which would have been the fastest, but most perilous path from point A to B.
On foot, he could brave the Himalayas, but without a Sherpa to pay off, he could get lost or even worse.
He needed more money. Money for rations and money for a guide.
Another pretty woman passed him by, and something inside him growled to be released.
Money for a courtesan wouldn’t hurt, either, would it?
000
Lin Leng yawned as he perambulated through the densely-packed streets of Jixing City, the first pit stop towards what Chow had referred to as their ‘grand adventure’. He could not wait to get to a private room, or to finally be on the road, again, sleeping under an open night sky, hearing not a single soul for miles around except for his snoring brother.
“What’s on the agenda?” He asked. Chow puffed himself up, excited at being the one in charge, like he always was. Though they were both individuals with Martial Prowess, they had dressed no differently from the average person, having done their best to escape the Harmonious Crane territory completely unnoticed and unmolested. If they had found out the secrets that they had stolen, they would both have been killed without a second thought.
“We either tag along a caravan, or make our own way,” he said. “Since I’m tired of waiting, we’re gonna go see if we can find map-” He stopped talking, having spotted something in the distance. “Jackpot.”
Leng followed the larger teen through the dense crowd, until they reached a young soldier with a Guan Dao on his back, blood-stains on their leather tunic, a large map furled before him. “Hello, friend,” Chow said, stepping closer to him. “Are you a traveller?”
“Yes,” he admitted, turning to the two brothers. His features were sharp, hawkish, his face bent in a perennial scowl, eyes always a little too wide. He looked like a pure killer. “Can I help you?”
“We wish to plot a course to the Kunlun mountains,” Chow explained.
The traveller narrowed his eyes at them both. “I am headed there as well.”
Chow exploded into laughter before wrapping his left arm around the man. “That’s wonderful! What say we travel together? We split costs so the journey is easier on all of us.”
The soldier was not convinced, however. “What is your business in Kunlun?”
“Nothing serious,” Chow downplayed. “We’re just two brothers looking for adventure. We hear there are many strong men and women to challenge over there.”
The soldier just nodded, without reciprocating. Leng found it rude, but he also couldn’t bring himself to actually giving a damn about why the oaf wanted to go there. “So you’ll let us tag along?” Chow asked.
The soldier nodded again. “I have one gold. Horses cost three silver pieces. I can pay for the horses if you pay for the rations. Is that acceptable?”
Leng shrugged. “You get us two horses, we’ll get one and then the rations. Sounds fair?”
The soldier shook his head. “I would rather you spend more money on rations.”
Leng shrugged. “What you do with your money is your choice.” The idiot was really trying to cross China on one gold piece, wasn’t he? At the very least, they had enough money to buy enough food to overencumber the horses several times over. With their money, travel rations could last half a year, and the journey only looked to be about a month in duration, a good deal if anything.
Chow spoke again. “We should rendez-vous somewhere after our little shopping spree. When are you heading out?”
“As soon as possible,” he replied tersely. “Although dawn has already passed a couple of hours ago, I would like to make the trek as soon as possible before noon.”
Chow nodded. “We’ll be on it. Meet us…” he pointed at a random tavern. “There. The Jade Flagon,” he added, just in case the soldier didn’t know how to read. The lack of realization proved otherwise, that the man may have been educated to literacy.
After all, he was reading a map.
The two brothers proceeded to the shopping district in search for appropriate travel rations; hard tack and water-skins. On their way, they ran into a teen dressed in scholarly robes and a tall flat hat, his academic appearance completely at odds with his surroundings. “Pardon me,” he said as the crowd forced him to brush past Leng. Thinking nothing of it, he made to peruse the produce.
000
Deng Ming knew that a travel party was what he needed. He had done his utmost in his travels to Jixing City to rush through the Martial Path, mastering Enlightenment and the State of Wu with ease. In his training, he had found that he always was Enlightened in some form, having learned a rudimentary technique created to improve memory storage by his mentor. The State of Wu helped magnify his anemic fighting prowess, but was more than enough for the few brigands that he had crossed paths with on the way.
He could still smell blood in the air as his sword had claimed a life. It made him shudder when he was alone.
“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” a young voice chanted as he held out a metallic bowl, eight pieces of steel welded together by copper, a genuine Shaolin Monastery begging bowl. He pushed through the crowd to get a better look at the young, androgynous monk, his head bald and his hand outstretched, but not pitifully in his display. It looked like begging was just a hobby for him, as he continued to smile and extol the virtues of the dharma to all who would listen, but none would. On his back was a two-meter long Monk’s spade, a deadly weapon, a genuine craft, in fact. There was no mistaking it. This was a Shaolin monk.
Too lazy to even give him food, the vast majority dropped coins inside his bowl, causing his jovial smile to falter somewhat. Deng Ming stepped forward. “Venerable Monk! Would you care to discuss the Noble Eightfold Path with me?”
The Shaolin monk beamed and launched into a lecture. The boy was much too naïve, a recent missionary yet to learn the ways of the world, but he could be useful for him. After all, he was a genuine Wulin Martial Warrior. That meant he could kill an average man with barely a thought. Of course, while his religion would not allow that, he was still more than capable of defending himself if the need arose.
Deng Ming engaged the monk lightly, taking a walk with him as the Shaolin monk went on and on about his faith. Deng Ming was a man of science, so he took the words with a grain of salt, but it was refreshing to see someone else actually passionate about a subject. All of his colleagues vying to become scholars were all a dispassionate bunch who cared more about rote memorization than the romanticism of pursuing knowledge with a passion. The young monk had that passion, so Deng Ming almost began to feel bad about using him in this way, but there was more at stake than the innocence of a young monk.
“Young Monk,” he finally interrupted. “What say you follow me to the mountains of Kunlun?”
“Uh, why?” The Monk asked, slightly bewildered.
“I am but a humble scholar, and although my mission is noble and necessary, I fear that I do not have the strength of arm required to brave the journey on my lonesome. I am well aware of the vows you have taken of non-violence, but even with a short display of your prowess, you can send any and all bandit or brigand running. I ask you not to break your vows for me, but to uphold them by defending me against the dangers of travel.”
The Monk seemed reluctant. “A Monk I am, a hero I am not. Please don’t rely on me to use violence as a means to protect. That simply is not my path. What difference is there between a promise of violence, and violence itself? If I chase off brigands by frightening them, am I not harming their hearts? Scholar, please understand.”
He didn’t understand. Deng Ming wrestled with simply telling the simple Monk the truth, and after a few moments of hesitation, he acquiesced. “Could I talk with you somewhere more private?”
The Monk led Deng Ming into an abandoned alleyway and with gestures from his hands, everything became quiet. “Speak freely. You will not be heard.”
A spell. Amazing. “There is an enemy that intends to destroy the Wulin and Jianghu as we know it, and if we don’t head to the Kunlun mountains in time, we will be unable to stop his plans. Millions dead as one man takes supreme control and reshapes the world to his own image. Would it be right for you to stand aside in such a conflict?”
The Monk was completely flabbergasted. “You… you’re lying?”
Deng Ming pulled out a dagger, held out his arm and cut a swathe along the tracks of his forearm, releasing a spurt of blood. “I swear to the heavens that what I am telling you is truth.”
The blood began to slowly evaporate into a red mist which then shot upwards before dispersing, the wound on his arm no longer there, as if there never was one to begin with.
The Monk was utterly poleaxed. “That’s… that is quite disconcerting,” he half-whispered. Then, he looked at Deng Ming, eyes utterly resolved. “It would be my duty to spread the dharma, but that cannot happen if millions die. I will help you, venerable Scholar. Rest assured at that.”
Deng Ming stopped himself just barely from falling to his knees and thanking the Martial Warrior before him. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
“But…” He frowned. “Diplomacy will always be my first resort. I am not your mercenary, nor am I your bodyguard. If a threat emerges that we cannot talk down, we run away.”
“That is… acceptable,” Deng Ming said. After all, there were few things he could count on to break a Shaolin monk’s vows like impending doom. He would come around when he was finally met with the stakes.
000
“How did I do, Mentor?” A young man asked, bowing his head before an obscenely tall man. The cave they were in flickered in the torchlight, illuminating the larger man’s hidden retainers and honour guard. The young man was not particularly tall, and neither was he particularly handsome, only really recognizable by his mane of hair set into dozens of different braids, ending in a bead for each braid.
“Sloppy,” he responded. “You lose focus all-too-fast, rely on guile more than power, and your Chi skills leave much to be desired.”
His disciple merely shrugged.
The large man’s face began to redden, almost to the same shade as his unkempt mane of red hair. “Your impudence and complacence will forever doom you to the pits of mediocrity. Do you care nothing for your potential, Monkey?”
The young man, Monkey, simply chuckled. “I’m already doing my best. You can’t ask for more.”
“Then where is the self-recrimination? Where is the guilt you feel that you could not push yourself any further?”
Monkey still shrugged. “I know I’m pushing myself as hard as I can. It does me no good to be upset that the heavens aren’t giving me free meatpies. I have much to learn, but it’s all in good time.”
The large man, the Dragon of the East, huffed and puffed, trying and failing to contain his rage at his impudent disciple. Eventually, he calmed down enough to consider how far he had come. It did a disciple no good to follow strictly after the mentor’s philosophy as no two humans were the same, but this divergence had been far too drastic. From a young age, the Dragon had taught him rage, apoplectic red rage that burnt all that it came into contact with.
And now he was as cool as the water of an autumn creek, having completely forgotten the virtues of anger. It was perhaps for that same exact reason that Monkey had never awakened his mentor’s element, the Flames of Destruction.
Dragon stood up, and noted with some satisfaction as Monkey took a half-inch step back. He did not stand up to punish him, however. “Continue your training, whelp. Push yourself until it is no longer practical. If you are too weak to hold onto your rage, then at the very least, try not to disappoint me.”
Monkey nodded, his body-language now relaxed.
Dragon turned to one of the hallways of the expansive cave-network. This was what their faction had been reduced to: hiding within mountains, biding their time. They would bide their time no longer.
He finally reached the war-room. A map of China was spread over a table, two scholarly men on the long side of it, and one man dressed in simple robes on the shorter side. His arrival had triggered the robed man to turn around.
He was handsome, deceptively so, but still, his eyes carried that glint of violence and arrogance, a true leader of the people. “Ah, Dragon,” he said. “Welcome.”
He gave the man a martial salute, bowing his head as well. “I await your orders, Tian Mo.”
Tian Mo nodded, still with that glint in his eyes. “Jixing City,” he said, beckoning Dragon over. He pointed at the southern end of the map. “The largest city near the southern coast. To take over this city, you will have the ability to not only dominate the entire fishing market, but also cut off valuable iron-mining supplies to the capital, crippling their weapon production. You will invade, depose the Magistrate, and instate yourself.”
Truth be told, he did not like the assignment. “The city is… so small.”
Tian Mo, sensing his apprehension, circled off a large section of the south with his fingers. “It is only a prelude, my loyal friend. Once you have taken over the city, you will be capable of running completely roughshod over the entirety of the south. Once you are done, you will reign supreme, completely uncontested, only answering to me,” Tian Mo’s smile turned friendly. “And you know how much I hate micromanaging. In truth, you will almost never be interrupted by myself. Does that not sound good to you?”
Dragon nodded. It did sound good to him. Without much consideration, he nodded again. “I will carry out the raid. Our men have been on standby for far too long. We ride out now.”
Tian Mo patted him on the shoulder. “That’s why I like you; always so efficient. Keep that up. The Heavens smile upon the intrepid.”
When Dragon turned to leave, he was stopped by Tian Mo’s voice. “Do you not have questions about the front lines north of Jixing? It is unlikely that either Martial Arts worlds will allow this with impunity.”
Dragon turned around and gave a nod. “I trust in your ability to provide help should I be overwhelmed. Otherwise, I trust in my own Martial Prowess.”
“You’re dismissed,” Tian Mo said simply. “Don’t disappoint, loyal friend.”
“I will not,” Dragon vowed.
He left the war-room and headed straight to his commanders, giving them their orders. He then went to interrupt his disciple’s training. “We ride out, disciple. Don’t make a poor showing of it.”
Monkey nodded. “Finally.”
Dragon chuckled lowly at his disciple’s eagerness. He couldn’t have agreed more with that proclamation.