On the day before the truce was set to end, the outer sect disciples gathered after their daily run. Ren Huang’s voice thundered out across the training field. “Traditionally the sect organizes a competition to mark the end of the grace period for new disciples. This is an opportunity to earn rewards, and to taste the competition to come. This year is no different.
“There have been increased sightings of spirit beasts and lesser spirits on the outer sect mountain. Since they haven’t been dealt with already, you will do so now. You’ll be judged by the quantity and quality of cores acquired. There will be no sect points rewarded for the cores. The three disciples with the greatest contribution will receive tutoring from a core disciple as their prize.
Confrontation between disciples is allowed so long as you show appropriate restraint. Work alone or in teams of no more than three as you prefer. You have until sundown.”
The gathered disciples began to cluster into small groups. He Yu immediately moved to join Li Heng. To his surprise, Yan Shirong joined them as well. He wore his typical robe of deep plum but had taken to wearing his hair bound in a crown hairpin, much like Li Heng.
“I thought you two didn’t like each other,” He Yu said once they’d exchanged formalities. Yan Shirong looked offended, but it looked affected. Li Heng grimaced.
“I don’t dislike him, I just have no reason to trust him,” the noble said. “He approached me yesterday and asked to join us for this exercise. Since I assumed that Princess Tan and Chen Fei would want to work together, I figured he could join us.”
He Yu glanced over to where Chen Fei and Tan Xiaoling were already leaving the training field. Hopefully, the hunting competition wouldn’t pit their two groups against one another. He’d sparred with Chen Fei enough to know that she was far stronger than she let on, and Tan Xiaoling was by far the strongest disciple in their cohort. It did sting a bit that Chen Fei hadn’t approached him, though.
“Seems fair,” he said. “Will Sect Brother Yan be able to keep up?”
Yan Shirong sniffed at the question. “My arts aren’t suited to direct confrontation. Do not take that to mean I am helpless.” He then gave He Yu a look that spoke volumes.
“Sect Brother He isn’t as weak as he seems,” Li Heng said. “He’s late First Realm now, which puts him on par with all the other disciples who still remain at Qi Gathering. No longer can it be said that little brother is the weakest disciple in the outer sect.”
It was a backhanded compliment if ever there was one, but it wasn’t wrong. Of the few disciples still at Qi Gathering, all were now at the late stage. While it stung that he was still one of the weakest disciples in the outer sect, he wasn’t the weakest anymore.
“We should get moving,” He Yu said, glancing towards the formation gate. Over half the disciples had already left the training field.
Once past the gate, Yan Shirong bid them to follow as he headed deeper into the wooded slopes of the outer sect mountain. When they were a good distance off the path and away from prying eyes and ears, he produced several small bone constructs fashioned into the likeness of birds. A swell of shadowy qi curled around the puppets. Caliginous tendrils worked their way into the puppets’ joints, acting like tendons. Soundlessly, they rose into the air and took off in different directions.
Yan Shirong turned to the other two, veins of black creeping into his sclera at the corners of his eyes. “The constructs will act as scouts. They should make for easier going as we search. They will also prevent any other disciples from surprising us.”
He Yu fell in behind his companions as they struck deeper into the forest. He wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about Yan Shirong’s constructs. They made him feel uneasy, but he couldn’t deny their usefulness. After a quarter of an hour or so, he voiced the other thing that had been bothering him about Yan Shirong’s technique.
“Your qi seems awfully similar to Xiao Jun’s,” he said.
Without turning, Yan Shirong said, “It is to be expected. We both cultivate shadow techniques.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” He Yu began.
“I’m aware,” Yan Shirong said. “To address your thinly veiled accusation, I am in no way affiliated with him. The Yan are proud servants of the Dragon Emperor. We serve in the Ministry of Information and have done so for generations. Whatever prompted Xiao Jun to cultivate shadow arts, he has no legacy to speak of. He and I are not the same.”
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“So you’re a noble, too?” He Yu asked.
“I am the fourth son of a minor comital house,” Yan Shirong answered. “While our arts are poorly suited to the struggles of the great clans, they are well suited to the needs of the Ministry of Information. We have made a niche for ourselves there and have thus maintained our status.” Pride tinged Yan Shirong’s words as he spoke, and He Yu decided not to press the issue. He didn’t want to offend, and he suspected he’d come close to doing so already.
As they walked He Yu rested his guandao on his shoulder. He desperately wished for a storage treasure. He’d put off getting one, preferring to spend his resources on his cultivation. While confident in his decision, he was awfully sick of dragging the heavy weapon around.
“Ahead. First Realm, so it shouldn’t pose much threat,” Yan Shirong said, interrupting He Yu’s thoughts.
Li Heng produced his jian. “Keep a sharp eye out. There could be more nearby.”
“There aren’t,” Yan Shirong said, sounding slightly offended.
The three disciples emerged into a small clearing. At the far end sat the wood spirit. It was vaguely human-shaped and about the size of a small child. It crouched at the base of a tree, poking at the dirt with a stick. The spirit didn’t look up, as though it hadn’t even noticed their approach. He Yu couldn’t sense the wood qi he should have from such a spirit.
Next to him, Li Heng adjusted his grip on his jian. “Something’s off,” he said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s clearly one of the wood spirits. I’ve hunted enough to know what they look like,” Yan Shirong said.
A high feminine laugh rang through the clearing as the wood spirit faded to mist. Several of the more densely packed trees near it faded as well. Where the “spirit” had crouched just a moment ago, Sha Xiang stood with her arms crossed over her chest and a smirk on her lips.
She’d taken to wearing a scandalous variation of the sect uniform recently. It was cut much like the men’s and it left her arms bare up to the shoulder. She’d also replaced her single glove with a matched pair inlaid with metal plates etched with formation characters. Li Heng gave her a look of obvious disapproval. To either side of Sha Xiang stood the two disciples she had pulled into her orbit over the past months.
Qiao Xia stood with the same parasol she’d used back when He Yu had first encountered her with Chen Fei at the waterfall. The mist that had formed the illusion rushed back to her, coiling around her feet before rushing up and into the sleeves of her robe. She rested the parasol on her shoulder, absently spinning it as it gathered yet more mist.
On Sha Xiang’s other side was the same boy from that first week in Elder Wen’s lecture, Cui Bao. He looked just as sharp and dangerous as he had back then. He carried no visible weapons and wore a standard sect uniform, which meant he was most likely a commoner as well.
“So much for the Yan family arts,” Li Heng muttered.
Yan Shirong did not respond to the barb. Instead, he stared death at Qiao Xia, who only continued to laugh. One of his constructs flitted off into the forest.
“About time you assholes showed up,” Sha Xiang said. “I was getting tired of waiting.”
“A lady should speak more properly than that,” Li Heng said. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you are a lady of the Way, Sect Sister.”
Sha Xiang scoffed. “Don’t lecture me. I’d hoped for another shot at you. Didn’t think I’d get it so soon.”
“Don’t expect an easy fight. I was unarmed last time.”
“And I was still early Foundation,” Sha Xiang shot back. He Yu’s apprehension only increased at that. Surely she couldn’t be late already, not even with backing from a Third Realm disciple.
“So you were,” Li Heng said, seeming completely unfazed. “Regardless, your reliance on cowardice tells me all I need to know. Stand down, and I will let you leave in peace.”
Sha Xiang’s expression twisted, but it was Cui Bao who spoke up. “Hey. Come here and say that to my face, pretty boy.”
Li Heng turned his head to Cui Bao and looked him over for a moment. “Trash like you isn’t worth my time,” he said before turning back to Sha Xiang.
The other disciple’s fists clenched at his sides, but Sha Xiang pointed at Li Heng. “That one’s mine,” she said. “He embarrassed me on the first day, and I’ve been waiting for three months to get payback. I’ll buy you something nice once we take their cores to make up for it.”
“We don’t have any cores,” He Yu said.
Cui Bao barked a laugh at that. “We should just beat them out of principle, then.”
“Bao, go play with He Yu,” Sha Xiang sneered. “I’ll join in on the fun once I teach this smug asshole of a noble a lesson.”
The clearing exploded into violence. Yan Shirong, despite his insistence that he wasn’t suited for combat, rushed Qiao Xia without hesitation. Daggers appeared in each hand and he threw them with blinding speed. Without ever losing her smile, Qiao Xia batted the flying daggers away with her parasol. Both cultivators used movement techniques freely. Yan Shirong maintained a medium distance while Qiao Xia darted in and out of striking range with her parasol.
Li Heng was a touch more restrained. This appeared to suit Sha Xiang just fine. She attacked with nearly the same ferocity Yan Shirong had demonstrated towards Qiao Xia. Li Heng began on the defensive, absorbing her attacks with the Winter Moon Reflection, gathering the silver light along the edge of his blade.
Sha Xiang was far more confident than she had been during their first duel and didn’t give Li Heng any of the same openings she had back then. From what little of their fight He Yu could see, the two of them appeared far more evenly matched than they had three months ago.
Cui Bao produced a pair of wicked-looking hatchets. “Better hope you know how to use that oversized stick of yours,” he said “Not gonna hold back just because you’re First Realm.”