The man who called himself Noren left his junior acolytes training in the upper room. This was a good opportunity for him to satisfy a curiosity that had been building in him for some time. The senior members of the sect were engaged in a competition inside the tower and would not be back for some time, while Min had gone out to pay a call on another sect. He didn't expect her back for several hours. As long as Brother Stone took his duties in training the acolytes seriously, Noren had bought himself some time without prying eyes.

He slipped out into the garden and then to the set of private rooms occupied by the senior disciples. He himself had one at the end of the row. Though, of course, he kept all of his truly important possessions in his soulspace, where no one could go through them without his knowledge.

Which was, of course, exactly what he intended to do to his juniors now.

When he had first come to the sect, he thought he understood what was going on. The Oaken Band Brotherhood, one of Riceflower Province's fraternal organizations, had happened across names and records from a defunct sect and resurrected it for their own ends. It wasn't an uncommon story. Non-cultivators always seemed to think that they needed the heritage of an existing sect. Where did they think sects came from? But then, it made working with the imperial bureaucrats easier. There was so much paperwork and scrutiny involved in founding a new sect, especially without any highly ranked cultivators attached.

Noren's first impression was that the Oaken Band had found themselves a foreign cultivating prodigy, the Darwur cultivator, Joshi. It was a good move. Barbarians from outside the empire could be expected to have deficient paperwork. Then they had co-opted a scribe with a talent for cultivating. No doubt he had forged the papers they'd needed.

Noren's supposition was backed up by the fact that they'd actually married the scribe into their organization. The poor fool had far more ties on him than a cart horse. His wife was a gem noble, a daughter of the Riceflower Provincial Governor’s family, and tied to the Brotherhood. Wu would be lucky to get more than 50 miles from Vardin City for the rest of his life.

At least, that had been Noren's first impression. Then the boy kept surprising him. He knew things, things that should’ve been Morning Mist Sect secrets. His own techniques were rough but showed a dash of genuine insight. The more Noren studied him, the more he realized Chang-li had an intuitive understanding of cultivation and a drive that any young master should aspire to. If he could lose that stubborn streak, he might really get somewhere.

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Which meant Noren might have mishandled things. He needed to know more so he could understand Chang-li’s reaction to him. What did Chang-li know about Morning Mists and how did he know it? With those questions in mind Noren entered the chamber that Chang-li shared with his wife. Their futon was rolled away for the day. Against one wall stood a shelf, absolutely covered in documents. Criss-crossing wooden slats formed a diamond-pattern grid into which scrolls had been inserted. Noren pulled one out at random and unrolled it. The parchment was still crisp, the ink unfaded. A careful hand had traced the characters. It was a simple description of the Swirling Mists cycling technique. Noren noticed where Wu had added his own thoughts on the technique, as well as a difficulty he had faced in teaching some of the acolytes.

Fascinating. The entire shelf seemed to be full of similar scrolls. Wu had been busy. But where were the source documents?

A couple of iron-banded chests took up more floor space. On top of them were unused parchment and a pair of pen cases. One of the pen cases had the Morning Mist's crest, faded but still visible on its leather surface. Frowning, Noren picked it up at once. He recognized this was no ordinary pen case. It bore a spiritual weight. This was a lux-bound artifact.

Noren channeled a bit of green lux into it, usually a safe bet when investigating an unknown artifact. Green was compatible with nearly everything. The pen case seized the lux, sucking it in. Noren fed in a bit more, and a moment later, a figure appeared, hanging in midair. A shade. Not just any shade. A querulous man with a translucent, balding head.

"It's about time, Scribe Wu. You've been absent for much too long. I understand you're busy, but..." The shade stopped and stared at Noren. "You're not Chang-li. You..." His eyes widened. "You..."

Noren held up a hand. "So that's the explanation, is it?"

The shade started to speak. Noren fed in a bit of blue lux. The shade's mouth snapped shut. His eyes bulged as he made mumbling noises.

"Yes, yes," Noren said. "Quite right. But you see, I have plans for the boy, too. And I can't have you interfering. Let's see." He wove together a complex pattern, blue and violet, then fed it into the pen case. The shade vanished. That should buy Noren a bit more time.

Well, this was productive. Before he could get caught by the overly perceptive Min, Noren let himself out. He was thinking of examining Joshi’s chamber as well. But after what he'd found in Chang-li and Min's room, there was no need. Everything made sense now.

Chang-li was solely behind the resurrection of Morning Mists and he was already dealing with the Oaken Band trying to swoop in and take what he had created. That explained his attitude toward Noren.

Now the question was what to do with this knowledge.