Liekong Zhi Long finished his conversation and stepped forward. Such was his power that he pulled my attention from Sun Feiyun even with the rage surging within me. Zhi Long’s eyes were gold, with vertical pupils, inhuman even from a distance. The storytellers said that he was the son of a dragon and a mortal woman, and that he had killed his father when the great wyrm had failed to honor his mother with a position as his wife. His mother, mortal though she may have been, was said to have lived in luxury within the sect until her death. For all his villainy, Zhi Long was the dutiful son every parent wished for.
Except for his father, I suppose. I bet he wished his son was a little less devoted to his mother.
Zhi Long’s voice rose over the background of rumbling thunder without effort; his greeting was cool and blunt. “By surviving the journey to the sect, you have proven that you are worthy of consideration by our brotherhood. As outer disciples, you will serve your elder brothers without complaint. In return, your elders will share their wisdom with you. We will instruct you in the arts and laws of our sect. If you serve well, you may win favor from your teachers. With favor comes rewards. If you serve exceptionally, one of our Elders may even take you as a personal disciple, a sworn apprentice.”
There rose a whisper of conversation as the prospects reacted to that opportunity. To learn directly from one of the Elders would advance anyone’s cultivation ahead of their peers. I could make out a few words here and there as men murmured to each other about who they would wish to serve. A sideways glance showed me Zhuzhu staring at the Raging Bear, licking his lips as if he wished to eat the man, not train under him.
The chatter was allowed to continue for only a few seconds before Zhi Long cleared his throat and silence was reclaimed. “Those are the rewards for success. But most of you will not succeed.” There was neither pity nor malice in the observation. “You all have some aptitude for the refinement of the soul. Whether it is enough? We will see. You have six months to lay your spiritual Foundations and prepare for the true cultivation. Anyone who does not succeed by then will remain as servants to the sect until their deaths. Or…” he paused just long enough for people to fidget, “you can avoid that humiliation and leave now. By morning, the path down the mountain will be closed until our next group of initiates arrives. This will be your last chance, if you believe that your spiritual strength is not adequate to the trials before you.”
Silence. I scuffed my foot awkwardly on the stone and mumbled to Zhuzhu, “Is it just me, or are people looking in this direction?”
His suppressed laughter was a rumble in his throat. “Chin up. Even a mouse might breathe fire if it’s brave enough to raid the alchemist’s cauldron.”
I met every furtive stare with my chin up and my legs apart in the most masculine posture I could manage. When I didn’t move, the stares passed to others, trying to see who - if anyone - would break.
No one did. If any of us were going to give up, it would have been on the mountain. We’d shed our blood on the stones and been gifted the mountain’s splinters and grit in exchange. I stared at Sun Feiyun. We all had our reasons to endure this. I didn’t know anyone else’s - except maybe Zhuzhu’s - but mine would not allow me to retreat in the face of mere humiliation. I would pursue the path of immortality, and when I could stand against him, I would see Sun Feiyun broken and bleeding at my feet.
Just as my family had bled at his.
Zhi Long smiled for the first time. “Very well. May your cultivation bear fruit. The sect trials will be in six months. Those of you who have laid your foundation will compete for a place among the inner disciples. In these trials, many will be evaluating you for apprenticeship and patronage. Do not disappoint.”
And that was it. On the last word, without further ceremony Zhi Long and the other Elders leaped into the air, catching the unceasing winds with their bare hands. They swooped over our heads, robes billowing like banners. The prospects gasped - myself among them, I admit without shame. They danced in the air like storm spirits before flying back over the walls. I tried to pick out the bright green streamer that was Sun Feiyun, but the mist and clouds swallowed him in the blink of an eye.
Wen Gao cackled at our upturned faces. “Like gawping peasants, every time.” He stroked his beard, smoothing it against the static that crackled in the air. “Well, come along. I’ll show you to your beds.” He entered the gates - walking, thankfully - and we fell into a ragged, limping group behind him. My mouth went dry; the question of where I would sleep and with what company had been a key consideration in my plan. I’d managed to secure two treasures to aid me in my deception - one, the talisman tucked against my skin with its minor enchantment that gave me the illusion of masculinity even if I were nude or in the bath - although I would have to keep refreshing the talisman to maintain it. To keep it from attracting attention from cultivators who could see the flows of qi, the illusion was as slight as I could make it, but if any of my new peers were precocious in their aptitudes, they might grow curious. My fingers absently checked to make sure it hadn’t moved from its place at my thigh. The other treasure was the plain stone ring I wore on my right hand. This, at least, was a common treasure. Even Zhuzhu had a similar one from what I’d seen. It was enchanted with a portal to an extradimensional space for my belongings. The space was small; there were probably carrying sacks with more room. But I couldn’t have gotten up the mountain without it.
To walk through the streets of the sect was like walking through the spirit realm itself. The clouds were oppressive, clammy and humid in a way that had trickles of moisture running down the back of my neck. The buildings loomed to either side, hewn from the same rock of the mountain itself. They were as mottled and gray as the storm, and seemed to disappear out of the corner of my eyes. To truly see one, I had to turn my head and stare, constructing its shape out of a corner here, a sharp edge there. We passed a large, open air space studded with training dummies shaped like men. At first I thought they might be men, so thick was the fog. It was only when another disciple feigned throwing punches at the closest one as we passed that I realized what they were. Even so, the carved masks in their battle faces seemed to watch me with black holes for eyes. My skin prickled with it. Wen Gao led us onward until we came to a large building just beyond the training field.
I smelled our destination before I saw it, my nose wrinkling at the bitter-sour scent of curing herbs and pickling plums. I wasn’t surprised when Wen Gao said, “This is the sect’s infirmary. You are to bother the apothecary only at need. A broken limb? Yes. A sour stomach after drinking? Deal with it yourself.” A few disciples made good-natured groans–which strangled into silence at Wen Gao’s stormy look. “Should the apothecary report any of you becoming a bother, you will be placed on punishment duty.” He smiled a nasty little smile. “The healers always need help mixing and curing their more pungent brews.”
I shuddered. My family was–had been–in the scribe’s trade. We cured our own inks and made our own paper as well. The process of making such things stunk like the dead, and the stench had a tendency to cling to clothing and flesh for days, no matter how hard you scrubbed in the bath. I was less familiar with the healer’s trade, but our village apothecary had been built downwind of the rest of us for a good reason.“Don’t scare the lads,” an unfamiliar voice said, and the apothecary stepped out to greet us, a woven basket in his hands.
He was not what I would have expected from anyone in Seven Striking Thunder sect. For one, he was my height or even less. He was also a bit thick about the middle, with warm brown eyes and dark brown hair that stood out for its dishevelment among the unnatural perfection the other sect members had shown. Was he mortal? I hadn’t the sensitivity to qi to tell from a glance. His smile was as welcoming as his eyes as he said, “Greetings. I see you’re all looking just as poorly treated as I was expecting. I’m Healer Yuanshu and I apologize on behalf of my more dramatic brothers. I have suggested many times that we arrange other passage here to our home.”
“They’re not women,” Wen Gao snapped. “We need not fly them up like courtesans attending a feast. Don’t coddle them now that they’re here, either.”
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Yuanshu rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t immortal, the man had more courage than an army. “I won’t. But,” he raised the basket in his hands, “please, each of you, come forth and take one of these pills. It will soothe your wounds. You should find yourself healed by the morning.”
I snuck a look at Wen Gao. He crossed his arms over his chest, but he’d brought us here clearly knowing what the healer was going to offer, and made no move to stop him. I wondered, briefly, if this was a test. If we stepped forward to take the offered pill, would we be rejected as weak or womanly?
It must have been a common fear because no one moved for one long breath. Then a young man, one about my age, stepped forward. I’d noticed him before when we’d gathered in the city; his eyes were a filmy white that surely couldn’t see much, if anything. I was surprised he was still here, holding a thin piece of bamboo that he used to feel his way towards Yuansu. How had a blind man made it up the mountain?
Shame struck in the next moment at the thought. Surely there were at least a dozen disciples who looked at me and asked a similar question about my height and lack of visible muscle. We all watched as he reached Yuanshu and extended his free hand, palm up. The healer showed no hesitation in scooping the pill out of the basket and dropping it into the young man’s hand. The pill was a large, glossy thing of dark green. The young man curled his hand around the pill, his fingertips exploring its outer surface, before popping it into his mouth. As he chewed it, we looked as one to Wen Gao, breaths held in a moment of unwitting solidarity.
He stared back, stone faced. Then rolled his eyes. “What are you waiting for, fools?” Sheepishly, we lined up for our own pills. By sheer chance–well, actually because Zhuzhu grabbed me by the shoulder and hauled us to the front and no one wished to stand in his way–we ended up at the head of the line, and I soon had a pill of my own. I ate it with caution. It had the bitter, astringent taste I expected of medicine, with an aftertaste that spoke of the heavy use of ginseng. My brother, Mu, probably could have identified every ingredient from a single bite. He had been studying under our local apothecary. I’d found his corpse before the door of the small cottage, as if he had tried to protect his master. The apothecary himself had been inside, the old man torn to pieces with what must have been an inhuman rage.
The memory made the pill even more bitter in my mouth and I swallowed it as fast as I could. It was warm and heavy in my belly. As it sat, that warmth radiated through me, and where it touched, the pain that had become a constant background sensation faded. Not gone, but reduced enough that I let out a sigh of relief. I checked my torn nails. No change. Our bodies couldn’t take much active qi at present and I knew they wouldn’t have given us powerful medicine. My disappointment was irrational, but still there.
I noticed that one disciple had not stepped forward to take a pill. He was a tall, slender man, but with broader shoulders than the blind disciple. And he wasn’t human. At least, not entirely–like Zhi Long, his skin was a mix of human and serpent, although his scales were tiny and iridescent, like pale jade shimmering beneath the clear waters of a sunlit stream. He had no hair, not even eyebrows, and his eyes were entirely black and unreadable.
As the other disciples received their medicine and stepped away, Yuanshu noticed the holdout. He gave a quick up and down glance, before smiling his apology. “I’ll have something more appropriate for your body sent to your room, Younger Brother. To whom shall I address it?”
“Kai.” The disciple’s voice was flat. “But it isn’t necessary.”
Yuanshu shook his head. “I disagree. Your time here will be a trial. It’s only right that every new disciple begin their first day on equal ground. Or as close as we can make it. Please do not fail to take the medicine I provide, Brother Kai.”
“Tch.” In the next breath, Kai seemed to realize that such a response to a superior in the sect might not paint him in the best light. He bowed, and it had the sort of grace that said etiquette teachers to me. Even if he clearly hadn’t listened very much to them. “My apologies, Master Yuanshu. I will be grateful for your generosity.”
Yuanshu laughed, softly. “I find that very few young men are grateful for anything, but it’s nice of you to say it. Remember, all of you: the infirmary is here to be used at need. I expect that I will see each of you at least once in the next month. There’s no shame in it.” At the noise Wen Gao made, Yuanshu scowled. “No shame. Brother Gao, please take these fine young disciples to their rest. They’ll need it.”
Somehow, the healer’s sympathetic tone made the warning all the more ominous. As did Wen Gao’s grin. “This way,” he said to us, and strode into the fog without hesitation. We scrambled to keep up, although I cast one glance back to watch the healer turn and enter the apothecary once again. The glimpse of him that the fog allowed made me think he looked sad; I hadn’t expected to find such a sympathetic person in this sect, of all places. He might prove to be an ally in the future.
Our path sloped upwards and outwards, to an area of the sect tucked against the outer wall. It was clearly not a prime piece of land, even considering the options. It seemed that the sects ran on the same principle as the cities: one’s influence and power was defined by the proximity of one’s domicile to that of the governor, or the Emperor himself. We were the lowest of the brethren. The wind whistled over the wall in a constant but wavering keen, something that I bet was going to prove almost impossible to get used to. The fog was thicker here, like we were being wrapped in cold, wet cloth with every step. To my surprise, there wasn’t the barracks that I’d heard most sects used for their new disciples. Instead, tiny stone domes, each one barely taller than a man’s height and clearly no larger than a single room, with paper doors lined both sides of the narrow lane. There must have been a hundred of them. They all appeared to be empty and abandoned although the lack of mold or moss suggested that they had been recently scrubbed.
I caught Zhuzhu studying one with open dismay. The top of the door would hit him on the bridge of his nose if he didn’t duck. I couldn’t help my snicker. “Told you. There are some benefits to being small,” I said.
His grimace of dismay hardened into determination. “I will work extra hard and earn promotion. Or I will get stuck one day and you’ll have to wriggle around behind me and push until I pop free, like a cork from a gourd.”
We smothered our laughs as Wen Gao glared in our direction. His eyes narrowed, but when we didn’t interrupt further, he moved on. “I will be assigning you a room. You may move rooms if you like–we certainly do not care. But we’ve found that it’s easier to begin with an assignment, otherwise there tend to be quarrels. You’ll have far more relevant things to squabble over. Speaking of which? Try not to kill each other in the first few days.”
Again, I wasn’t sure if that was actually a joke or not. He wasted no time rattling off names and pointing to rooms as we walked. I suspected he was just naming people off the top of his head and pointing to the first empty room he saw. It did help me learn a few names–for example, the blind disciple was named Ju Jing, while Kai was not given any family name in his assignment. I wasn’t surprised there; people with demon blood were often outcast from families and towns alike. Their tempers and abilities could be unpredictable, and they had a marked tendency towards bloodlust.
Zhuzhu was given a room no larger than any of the others. He looked at it with a sigh, then punched me in the arm again. “Breakfast. Don’t be late, or I’ll eat it all.” With a wink he disappeared into his room. It was almost like a magic trick in reverse, seeing the giant compress himself into the tiny space–until I heard a muffled thump and an enthusiastic curse from inside. I winced.
My own name was called near the end, and Wen Gao pointed to a room right next to the wall. I checked his face to try and read his temper; he looked as bored with me as he’d been with the others, and I wondered if maybe he truly didn’t remember challenging me in the courtyard at all. Maybe it was a bit of predetermined drama and had nothing to do with my deception. If so, I was grateful, and I made haste in taking myself out of his eyesight by going inside.
It was small, but not so tight that I felt uncomfortable. A tiny, clean-burning lamp had been lit on the small table in one corner, and the room had clearly been freshly cleaned. A sleeping mat and undyed bedding were folded neatly next to the opposing wall from the door. A nightsoil bucket and lid sat next to the door, and a small basin with fresh water was next to the lamp. There were no decorations and certainly no luxuries, but it was serviceable. I took a slow, shuddering breath and let out all of the tension I’d been holding for three days.
As soon as I did, my body began to tremble. My fingers shook as I disrobed, unbound my breasts, and folded my clothes for tomorrow. I was still sticky and wet from the storm and the hike, but no mention had been made of bathing arrangements, and I didn’t want to risk being caught prowling around without permission on the first night. I did the best I could with the water in the basin and plucked out each of the splinters I could reach with my nails or teeth, refusing to cry as the wounds started to bleed again. I spit the last splinter into one corner of the room and wrapped the wound with a shred of linen from my ring. I’d thought I might celebrate having achieved the first milestone of my grand plan; a good portion of me had thought I’d end this day dead, thrown off the mountain for my trespass.
Instead, I stretched out on the bedding and sank like a stone into a deep, dreamless sleep.