Tan Xiaoling emerged from her cultivation chamber, and into the crisp evening of early winter. The stench of extruded impurities clung to her still, despite having washed herself and changing into a fresh gown already. Her first steps with her new body—a pale imitation of what it would become now that she’d finally broken into the Third Realm—were filled with an unexpected but not unwelcome sense of strength and control. It would take some time to get used to this breakthrough, but she’d been mentally prepared for over a year now.
What she hadn’t expected was the sharp increase to her senses. The chill that had deepened with the coming of winter cut into her skin, in a way that was strange—she knew that sensation was cold, but it didn’t affect her like it would have weeks prior when she’d secluded herself for her breakthrough. She could taste the air. Smell the ever-present mists. Hear the soft approach of a power still far greater than her own.
Tan Xiaoling turned and bowed over a salute—one fist pressed into her palm—given to her senior.
“Congratulations on attaining Body Refining,” said Zhang Lifen. A smile played across her lips. Tan Xiaoling couldn’t determine whether it was mocking or simply smug. Senior or no—Tan Xiaoling didn’t like the woman.
“This one thanks Senior Sister,” she said.
“This one,” Zhang Lifen said absently. “Is that really appropriate? You are nobility after all. And highly ranked if I’m not mistaken. I’ve made my choice to stay in the sect, so I’ve no real title to speak of. However, I am your senior, so what exactly is the protocol here, I wonder?” The core disciple waved a dismissive hand. “I find all that formality tiresome, anyway. Senior Sister will do for now, I suppose. At least until such a time as we can call each other peers.”
“As you wish,” Tan Xiaoling said, Zhang Lifen’s attitude doing nothing to lessen her dislike of the woman. “Is there something you require of me?” she ventured after a moment of silence stretched between them for a bit longer than she was comfortable with. She hated to admit it, but she felt as though she were already on the back foot with this conversation.
Zhang Lifen regarded her for a moment, her unnerving cerulean eyes shifting as she held Tan Xiaoling’s gaze. “I wanted to speak to you about Xiao Jun,” she said at length.
Tan Xiaoling’s blood surged at the name, and she involuntarily clenched a fist.
“As I thought,” Zhang Lifen said. “How convenient for me.”
“What about him?” Tan Xiaoling was now in even less of a mood to deal with this woman.
“I had told He Yu that I expected you would want to deal with Xiao Jun. I thought it might be worthwhile to see where you stood on the matter.”
“I owe him,” she said. Zhang Lifen had seen the tail end of what Xiao Jun’s treachery had done, and how he’d humiliated her. The older woman had to know that Tan Xiaoling wouldn’t—couldn’t—let an insult like that stand.
“I’ve noticed,” Zhang Lifen said in that airy way of hers. “I think that perhaps you and I can come to an agreement here.”
“And what might that be?” Tan Xiaoling knew this was bait. She knew she was playing right into whatever game Zhang Lifen was running here. She’d seen enough of Zhang Lifen’s type back home—someone who used their status and influence to pull others’ strings for their own benefit. But she couldn’t help herself.
“We both know you aren’t capable of defeating him as you stand now,” Zhang Lifen began. It was true. Despite the quality of her breakthrough, owing to all the time she’d spent at the peak of Foundation, Xiao Jun was still beyond her ability. “While I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to challenge him soon enough, I’d like you to wait.”
“Wait?” Tan Xiaoling asked before she could stop herself. “For what?”
“I’m sure you’re aware of the coming tournament.”
Tan Xiaoling nodded. At the height of summer, several weeks before the new year’s disciples were set to arrive, the sect would hold a tournament to determine who would join the inner sect. She had a feeling she knew what was coming next.
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“Wait for the tournament,” Zhang Lifen began. “As I’m also sure you’re aware, the pairings for the tournament brackets aren’t exactly fair. I can ensure that you fight Xiao Jun at the tournament. Thus your victory over him will be in front of the entire outer sect—and whichever seniors happen to be in attendance.”
The admission didn’t come as much of a surprise, just as Zhang Lifen had suggested. It was somewhat of an open secret that the brackets of such tournaments were often arranged in such a way that certain disciples were all but guaranteed to advance to the qualifying rounds, ensuring that the favorites of elders and influential seniors were given a place in the inner sect. Of course, one still had to win their respective matches, and anyone who made it into the inner sect would still be a talented cultivator in their own right.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, Xiao Jun is currently the strongest disciple in the outer sect,” Tan Xiaoling said. “I have no doubt that I would face him in the tournament regardless.”
“Under normal circumstances, you’d be correct,” the other woman said. “Let me be clear, then. Do as I say, and I can ensure that you can have your satisfaction on a fitting stage. You can repay the humiliation you’ve suffered as many times over as you want. Likewise, seek to pursue your grudge on your own terms, I can just as easily make sure you don’t face him. I could have him eliminated in the first round, or I could simply have you expelled from the sect. It makes little difference to me.”
It took a great deal of effort for Tan Xiaoling to rein in her temper. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of threats, especially from someone capable of making good on them.
“I take it there’s more to this than simply wanting me to do your dirty work for you?” Tan Xiaoling asked.
“I know somewhat of the difficulties you face back home.” Zhang Lifen allowed her voice to trail off, letting the reminder of Tan Xiaoling’s situation hang between them for a moment, before affecting a casual shrug.
Then, something shifted in Zhang Lifen’s demeanor. Like a veil had dropped, and Tan Xiaoling was truly seeing her for the first time. No longer was she the vain and somewhat flippant woman Tan Xiaoling had always marked her for. There was a danger—a ruthlessness—lurking beneath that exterior. She’d shown a bit of that over the course of their conversation already, but now it was on full display. Despite Zhang Lifen’s spirit remaining tightly restrained, Tan Xiaoling couldn’t help but shiver.
“When I recruited He Yu and Sha Xiang to the sect I’d thought to gain two disciples. I lost one, but in the process, I gained four more. At least in potential. Li Heng has quite clearly hitched his fortunes to He Yu, though I doubt he’s done so out of pure altruism. Yan Shirong is shrewd enough that he’ll see the profit in sticking with the two of them long before they return to the sect. Chen Fei will likewise want to follow the boy who showed her a small measure of kindness, and once she returns from Sect Brother Ren’s training, I expect she’ll have little trouble keeping up. That leaves you, Junior Sister Tan.
“I know you feel a fondness for Junior Sister Chen, but I’m not willing to place my faith in that bond. Nor am I willing to place my faith in your budding interest in Junior Brother Li.” Tan Xiaoling’s cheeks heated at that, but she said nothing. “I want to know where you will stand when the time comes, Tan Xiaoling.”
“What does this have to do with Xiao Jun?” she asked, casting her brief embarrassment aside.
“You recall the fight between my disciple and his?”
“His disciple? Surely you can’t mean Sha Xiang.”
Zhang Lifen merely fixed Tan Xiaoling in her gaze.
That technique she’d used. The one Xiao Jun had tried to stop the duel over. “He was the one who gave her that technique?”
“She received it by way of Xiao Jun, yes. Master Cai was most unhappy that Sha Xiang had been given such a thing. He has tasked me with breaking the nascent alliance forming around Xiao Jun via the gifts he’s distributing amongst his followers.”
“Ah,” Tan Xiaoling said. So this was all at the bidding of Zhang Lifen’s master, Elder Cai Weizhe. “Politics. A game I’m familiar with, and want no part of.”
“Politics is nothing more than the exercise of power, Princess Tan. It is endemic to the world of immortals.”
“What does Elder Cai care for an outer sect disciple such as Xiao Jun?” Tan Xiaoling asked, changing tack.
“Xiao Jun is merely an unwitting herald of something far greater than himself. Sha Xiang, too. There will come a time—sooner than I think any of us are comfortable with—when battle lines will be drawn. All of us will need to decide where we will stand.”
“I know where I stand,” Tan Xiaoling said.
Zhang Lifen spent far too long holding Tan Xiaoling’s gaze, as though she were searching for something. “A lone tree may fall in a storm where a forest survives.” Tan Xiaoling began to respond, but Zhang Lifen silenced her with a gesture. “As I said, I know well why you came here. Why you left the Jade Kingdom and came all the way to the Shrouded Peaks. You ought to know, perhaps better than any of your peers, what it means to walk in the world of immortals. You have friends, Princess. Choose them before the choice is made for you.”
Then, the veil was back. Zhang Lifen’s demeanor shifted once more, and the unserious woman had returned. “I look forward to your rematch with Xiao Jun,” she said. Without another word, she turned and drifted out of the courtyard.
Tan Xiaoling stared after her. Her thoughts turned first to Chen Fei—the only person who’d even come close to what she might call a friend. Then they turned to the lonely years in her father’s palace. She shook her head.
The rest were allies, at best. And poor ones at that. She couldn’t count on them—they weren’t nearly strong enough. When her uncle finally got tired of waiting, he’d be coming for her. When that happened, she needed to be ready.