He Yu cupped his fist with his palm and bowed. “Great Spirit, forgive this one for trespassing in your august domain. I had not sensed your presence before entering this place.” At least this time he could be certain he was dealing with a spirit, unlike when he’d first met Zhang Lifen and mistaken her for the same.
“I hid myself when I sensed your approach. But answer me, if you did not mean to trespass, then why have you come?”
Although he couldn’t detect any anger in the spirit’s voice—or any other emotion, for that matter—he needed to proceed carefully. If he offended a being of this power, his life was forfeit. There was no way he could contend with a Fifth Realm spirit. He’d be lucky if he made it halfway to the entrance before it obliterated him.
“An immortal who lives several days’ journey away has been kindly training this humble disciple of the Shrouded Peaks Sect. He advised me to come here and suggested I may find something to aid my cultivation.” He Yu didn’t think that he’d be able to rely on either Old Guo’s or the sect’s protection in this, but he didn’t think it would hurt to invoke their names. At least he hoped it wouldn’t, and as the silence wore on, that hope grew increasingly desperate.
“I am called Yongnian,” the spirit said at length. “I tend this place in the absence of mortal worshipers. Tell me of the outside world.”
That had not been the response He Yu had expected. A spirit wanted gossip? Well, he supposed that he may as well oblige him. Yongnian led He Yu to one of the few benches that looked as though it could still support any significant amount of weight, then beckoned him sit. When Yongnian removed his “hands” from within the sleeves of his robe, He Yu saw they were made of the same insubstantial fog as the spirit’s head before he folded his arms within his voluminous sleeves once again.
He Yu sat and did his best to both calm his nerves and comply with Yongnian’s request. Now that he’d been pressed, he realized he didn’t actually know much of what passed in the world beyond the day-to-day happenings of the sect. He didn’t think the spirit would be interested in that, so he first spoke of Old Guo.
Yongnian nodded along, and eventually said, “I know of the one you describe. I can sense his power when he comes close to the temple. He has never come inside. How did Child of Storms come under the tutelage of Venerable Great Tree?”
He Yu paused. That was the second time Yongnian had referred to him as the “Child of Storms.” He itched to ask the spirit what he meant. If he had to venture a guess, it might have something to do with his spiritual presence. Yongnian had called Old Guo the “Venerable Great Tree,” and that was certainly an apt description for what he’d felt when the old cultivator had revealed his spiritual presence.
“This one is on a mission from his tutor at the Shrouded Peaks Sect,” He Yu began. He then went on to recount his journey and the initial encounter with the bandit king Hao Niu. He Yu was surprised at the anger in his words that rose unbidden when he recounted the discovery of the ruined village. While he didn’t think a spirit would care about such things, he found himself describing the burnt homes and unburied corpses that King Hao and his men had left in the wake of their attack.
The spirit gave him what He Yu guessed was a quizzical look, given the slight tilt of its head in an oddly human gesture. “Where are your companions, then?”
“They are back with Old Guo—er, Venerable Great Tree, I think you called him,” He Yu answered.
“It is not necessary to speak as I do, Child of Storms. Use your mortal names if it is easier.”
That was a relief. He didn’t know if he’d be able to keep all the descriptions straight if he had to refer to anyone other than himself or Old Guo. Then again, how would a spirit like this refer to someone like Li Heng? Silent Moonlight? Reflection of Fresh Snow? What about Yan Shirong? He Yu shook his head. He needed to focus.
The spirit looked at him with that tilt of its head still but said nothing of He Yu’s momentary lapse into distraction. Instead, Yongnian asked, “Why do the actions of this King disturb you so?”
There was a certain innocence in the question that caught him off guard. As though Yongnian truly didn’t understand why he would be upset by the things he’d seen. But there was a sincerity, too. As though the spirit truly wished to understand. He Yu took a moment to consider, and choose his words carefully.
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“We immortals are supposed to be righteous,” he began. “If we give into the temptations of predation and banditry there is only chaos.”
“What is right?” asked Yongnian.
The last thing He Yu had expected to find at a ruined temple was a spirit who seemed intent on discussing moral philosophy. “Well, to protect those unable to do so for themselves, for one,” he answered.
“Is that truly right? Is that the wholeness of it? One could say that predation is the order of the world, set forth by heaven. Life feeds on life. Perhaps this so-called bandit harbors some great need?”
The anger that He Yu had felt upon describing the burnt-out village returned. He bit down on his tongue—nearly drawing blood—to prevent himself from blurting out a hasty response. A twinge of intuition told him there was something to the spirit’s words. Not that Yongnian was defending King Hao, but rather that he was asking for the purpose of gauging He Yu’s answer. Although he was painfully aware that he didn’t have a clear understanding of what the spirit was after, he did have something that would help him. He activated the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment.
As He Yu looked at the spirit with eyes made clear by the discernment of a great sage, he saw his instinct confirmed. Yongnian’s features became, if not clear, then at least readable. The billowing fog took on a slightly more human cast, and the pulsing crackle of his lightning eyes seemed somehow expressive. The spirit was curious as to how He Yu would answer. It was so obvious now. There was also the hint of a challenge in the questioning, too. Not that Yongnian thought He Yu was wrong. He wanted to test He Yu’s conviction.
When He Yu answered, his words were guided by the insight of his technique. “Life feeds on life,” he began, “but it does not do so out of cruelty. You speak of a possible need, but what need could drive the slaughter of an entire village? Simple need would have taken their winter stores and left them alive, not burned the whole place to the ground.”
“Would that have not been the crueler path? Is a quick death not preferable to a lingering one?”
“Assuming they would have died. Sure, they may have starved. But they might also have survived. Had the bandits left them alive, they’d have had a chance. Besides, mercy doesn’t leave unburied corpses.” He Yu wasn’t sure if this was what the spirit was after, but it was what he believed to be true in the face of these questions. As he spoke, he found himself not particularly caring what the spirit thought of his words.
“So you seek to bring justice to these bandits,” Yongnian said. “Tell me of your sect, young disciple.”
The sudden shift in topic took He Yu off guard. He recovered quickly, thanks to the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment, and realized that this wasn’t quite the shift that he’d first thought. To the spirit, the line of questioning was all part of the same test.
He began at the beginning. With how Zhang Lifen had found him after his embarrassingly narrow victory over an awakened squirrel. How she’d orchestrated the tournament in Shulin to test him. How she’d more or less abandoned him once he arrived at the Shrouded Peaks Sect. How that test had sown the seeds of rivalry between him and Sha Xiang. How he’d needed to rely on those stronger than himself for protection and resources in those early days. How Elder Cai had gifted him with his first true art, and how he’d studied the guandao under Fang Yingjie. How Zhang Lifen had thrown him upon Sha Xiang’s mercy, fully expecting that he would lose. And how finally, she’d sent him into the wilderness against a bandit king as a training exercise. It almost seemed, now that he looked at it this way, that perhaps Zhang Lifen was trying to get him killed.
“To walk the path of cultivation is to defy the very heavens,” Yongnian said when He Yu had finished his story, and—without really meaning to—expressed his doubts about Zhang Lifen’s intentions.
“Perhaps your mentor is simply preparing you.”
“Maybe,” He Yu grumbled.
“Child of Storms,” Yongnian began. “I will tell you about myself. That I am the attendant of this place should come as no surprise.” He gestured to the bureaucrat’s cap perched atop his visage of mist and cloud. “There is more to speak of, but this is not the place. Come with me.”
The spirit drifted off, deeper into the ruins of the temple. He Yu had to scramble to his feet to follow before the spirit disappeared into the darkness. As he followed, the light managed to penetrate deeper than he thought it ought to have. By this point, he wasn’t going to bother questioning it. Being able to see was, by far, the least strange part of this whole encounter.
As they moved deeper into the temple, Yongnian periodically gestured to one of the bronze braziers that lined the hall. An orb of crackling lightning appeared within, where a flame ought to have. The orbs shed dim, steady light to guide them as the light from outside finally became too little to see by.
Deeper in, the temple was no less ruined than it had been near the entrance, but the qi of the area became stronger with each step. Water and wind qi gave the impression of thick clouds and rain. Heavenly qi cracked and rumbled first at the edges of He Yu’s perception, and then increasingly closer. They walked for what seemed like hours, and the qi of the area made it seem like he was walking through clouds with a storm raging all around.
Wherever this spirit was taking him, he’d be a fool not to follow.