The next morning He Yu met Chen Fei near the formation gate at the foot of the waterfall trail. She seemed particularly bright that morning, which eased a bit of He Yu’s lingering awkwardness about the previous afternoon. As they walked, He Yu listened to her chatter as he tried to figure out just how exactly he was supposed to simply be himself.
By the time they reached the waterfall, he still hadn’t managed to come up with any answers. So it was just as well that they began their day as they typically did by cultivating the rich qi of the area. After taking the pill he’d won the previous day, He Yu quickly lost himself to his cultivation, cycling his qi through his meridians in accordance with the sect cultivation technique. Over the weeks he’d grown accustomed to the flood of insights he often gained while cultivating the technique, but for the first time, he actively hoped that he would gain something useful from it.
He had no such luck. If it weren’t for the calm that accompanied his time spent in cultivation, he’d have grown frustrated at his lack of answers. It seemed as though he’d have to navigate this wholly under the power of his inexperience. As he was lamenting that fact, the approach of voices intruded upon his cycling.
He Yu opened his eyes but didn’t rise from his seated position. His guandao lay nearby, as he didn’t yet have a storage treasure and had to lug it around with him. A glance toward Chen Fei told him she had heard the newcomers’ approach as well.
She shot him a worried look when she noticed he’d stopped his cultivation. “Who do you think it is?”
It was immediately clear why she was concerned. Tan Xiaoling had warned that other disciples might contest the cultivation spot, and there was the possibility that whoever was coming would do just that. He Yu didn’t see why that ought to be the case, though. There was plenty of space and more than enough qi. At least he thought so. Absently he wondered if the natural qi of an area like this even could be depleted.
Despite his own willingness to share, any hopes of avoiding a fight were dashed when he saw who’d come to their spot. Sha Xiang emerged from the trees along with Qiao Xia, the girl who’d accompanied her on that first day.
“Look who it is,” Sha Xiang sneered, locking eyes with He Yu.
“A barbarian and a weakling,” Qiao Xia said.
Sha Xiang was perhaps the last person he’d wanted to run into here, especially without Li Heng or Tan Xiaoling around. He desperately hoped that she wasn’t going to start a fight, but didn’t have much faith in that, were he honest with himself. He didn’t know what Qiao Xia’s advancement was, but if she were calling him a weakling he should probably assume she was already at the Foundation stage.
If he hadn’t been completely cursed by the heavens, Sha Xiang wouldn’t have advanced in the three weeks since their first encounter. Even if she hadn’t, that still put him and Chen Fei at a serious disadvantage. Of the two of them, only Chen Fei was Foundation, and He Yu didn’t know at which stage. As a middle-stage First Realm, he would only get in her way should it come to violence.
“I’m not a barbarian,” Chen Fei said. He Yu shot a glance in her direction. She still hadn’t risen from her position by the pond, and the dejected expression she’d worn the previous day had returned. A spike of anger pierced him at that. Whatever the truth was, she didn’t deserve to be bullied by anyone, especially whoever this Qiao Xia girl was.
“Oh, it looks like someone’s angry,” Sha Xiang said, a smug grin spreading across her lips. He Yu cursed himself for his inability to keep his thoughts off his face. “Gonna fight for your sweetheart’s honor now?”
Sha Xiang was goading him. Trying to provoke a response. He knew it. If things came to blows—and it was increasingly clear that they would—the sect elders might turn a blind eye. If they didn’t, it was likely they’d punish whoever started it more severely. He Yu summoned all the willpower he could muster to push down his anger.
“There’s no reason we can’t all cultivate here,” he said as calmly as he could manage.
“Only because you can’t manage to keep what’s yours,” Qiao Xia responded. “Sha Xiang and I can handle the both of you easily enough. Want me to show you?” A parasol appeared in her hand, summoned from her storage treasure. She snapped it open to reveal the formation characters that decorated the paper stretched across its bamboo ribs.
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Chen Fei stood now, drawing herself up to her full height. “There’s no need,” she said. “We could all benefit from the resources here, and not waste our energy fighting each other.” Her voice sounded surprisingly firm, something that gave He Yu some much-needed confidence.
Hesitation flickered across Qiao Xia’s features in the face of Chen Fei’s sudden assertiveness. She was a short girl with delicate features, looking more like a spoiled rich child than an immortal fighter. Especially compared to Chen Fei, who stood a full head taller than both Qiao Xia and Sha Xiang. It was to his chagrin that He Yu realized he was about the same size as both of them—with Chen Fei the only one present who actually looked the part of a warrior in the fur-trimmed felt and leather outfit she wore on their free days.
Sha Xiang slipped a formation stitched glove onto her hand. It was similar to the one she’d used previously, but noticeably newer. It seemed she hadn’t any trouble replacing the ones that Ren Huang had destroyed. The only bright spot in all of this madness was the fact that nobody had fallen into a combat stance yet. Which meant He Yu might still be able to talk his way out of this.
“I agree with Chen Fei,” He Yu said, trying to project confidence he only partly felt. “I’m sure we can all come to some sort of agreement about to best use the resources here.”
“Why the hell should we share with you when we can just take it?” Sha Xiang demanded. At least she still seemed inclined to talk for the time being. He Yu hoped that Chen Fei’s presence—plus the memories of being humbled by both Li Heng and Ren Huang the last times she’d started something—would be enough to keep her talking.
Qiao Xia at least had the decency to look a bit offended at Sha Xiang’s vulgar speech, but she clearly wasn’t about to back down either. “And what’s more,” she said, “we’d be giving up a valuable spot to a barbarian.”
“I’m not a barbarian,” Chen Fei said, a bit of the resolve she’d shown earlier draining away.
“No? Look at yourself. You sure dress like one. And your accent isn’t that different from one of them either,” Qiao Xia said, her contempt clear.
“I’m not a barbarian,” Chen Fei repeated. She was clearly growing more distressed, but He Yu couldn’t exactly figure out why. If she wasn’t a barbarian, then what was the big deal?
“Leave her alone,” He Yu said.
Qiao Xia swung her parasol in several lazy loops around her. Mist rushed in to swirl around the slight girl as she did so. Sha Xiang cracked her knuckles. Then, a familiar voice—feminine, yet husky with a slight creak to it—came from behind and above He Yu.
“You should reconsider your path, Sect Sister Qiao.” Tan Xiaoling stood at the top of the waterfall, gazing imperiously down at the four of them with her arms folded over her chest. Li Heng stood next to her.
“I see you’re still resorting to thuggery, Sect Sister Sha,” Li Heng said.
“I don’t see how this is any of your business,” Sha Xiang said, glaring up at the two nobles.
Tan Xiaoling leaped down from the waterfall and landed next to Chen Fei. A dao saber fell into her hand and she pointed it at Sha Xiang. “I fail to see how it isn’t.”
Sha Xiang and Qiao Xia shot worried looks at one another.
“I found this spot on my own,” Tan Xiaoling continued. “I shared it with my friends. Now it seems you mean to take it from us. Should I stand by and let that happen? Should I allow myself to look weak by allowing the likes of you two walk over me like this?”
“Of course not, Princess Tan,” Qiao Xia said quickly, bowing over a salute.
Sha Xiang shot her companion a dissatisfied look but said nothing.
“No? You seemed eager to fight a moment ago. Or was I mistaken?” By now a dangerous sharpness had crept into Tan Xiaoling’s words. It was more than a simple shift in tone. There was a presence to it not unlike the weight of a cultivator’s qi. It sent a shiver down He Yu’s spine. “I would be happy to oblige you both,” she added.
It appeared as though Sha Xiang were wrestling with herself, but after a moment she backed down as well. “We’ll leave,” was all she said.
“No threats? No promises of vengeance? It seems you’ve finally learned your place in the pecking order,” Tan Xiaoling said. She was goading Sha Xiang, and it looked almost like it was going to work.
Better judgment won out, however, and Sha Xiang saluted Tan Xiaoling once more before turning and retreating into the forest with Qiao Xia. “Trash,” Tan Xiaoling spat as they left. From the way Sha Xiang’s shoulders tensed, she’d clearly heard.
Once the two other girls had left, Tan Xiaoling finally sent her dao back into her storage treasure. “Good thing Li Heng and I finished up early,” she said.
“They won’t forget this,” Li Heng said after joining the rest of them at the bottom of the waterfall.
He Yu turned to the two of them and bowed. “Thank you for coming to our aid. I don’t think we would have been able to defeat them on our own.”
Tan Xiaoling waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. If I couldn’t protect my friends, what am I worth?”
The question was obviously rhetorical but it stuck in He Yu’s chest, and he couldn’t help but turn it over in his head for the rest of the day. If he couldn’t even protect himself, what did that say about him, then?