> ‘In our world, we like to think all people have 'power'. The power to strive, to step forward, to challenge heaven, to better ourselves. It lifts us up, so the scholars say, from the mortal, the mundane, and the mediocre realities of lesser worlds. It is the means by which we attain, according to the great sages that speak to us of its intricacies, our path to the Heavens and the Dao.

>

> However, I can only refute the words of those scholars, my former peers, and rebuke the shallow interpretations of those great sages, among whose ranks I once aspired to sit. They were wrong. Their perspective lacking. Their ambition flawed. Their reason shallow.

>

> Nowhere can you see it more clearly than on [the subcontinent of] Yin Eclipse. Here, time and time again through the uncounted years, the wealth of its spirit herbs, the allure of its mysterious ruins, the majesty of its landscape and the strategic shield of its suppression have drawn the eyes of the world.

>

> Heroes, Families, Clans… Even Emperors have grasped its power. The desire for its riches has fuelled eras, made great sages and terrible villains alike and yet, in the end it was not they who shaped that power, but it that reshaped them, subverted them, judged them or eclipsed them entirely, leaving one cruel, immutable reality that has haunted these lands since eras immemorial.

>

> That power is not shaped by the moral nature of man. Rather; it is we who are shaped, morally, by the nature of power.’

Text by ‘Scholar Seng’, revelatory Arhat and spiritual, ancestral founder of the Seng School of Buddhism, believed by some to be Seng Mo. Originally translated by Reverend Zuise Wei Zhe of Sengyin Monastery

  ~Recompiled by Abbot Xin Ershang – post-destruction of Sengyin Monastery by experts from the Imperial School during the Year of the Blood Eclipse.

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~ JUN ARAI – JADE WILLOW VILLAGE ~

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Arai woke up and stared at the ceiling, which was thankfully devoid of tetrid stalkers, and listened in the silent gloom to the patter of the unceasing rain on the veranda. It took her a moment to realise that what she had thought was a single peal of thunder was, in fact, just someone knocking on her door.

Grimacing as the aftereffects of a lot of spirit alcohol made themselves felt, she sat up, slipped off the bed, pulled on a robe and sent a thread of qi into the formation that lit the lights in the room.

“Who is it?” she called, walking over to the door.

“Me,” Yunhee replied.

“Oh…”

Opening it, she let Yunhee in, then went and pulled on the rest of her robes.

“I assume we are leaving early?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Yunhee nodded. “Sorry about that… especially after you ended up going to two end of year meals yesterday.”

“It’s fine, that’s a perk of being a physical cultivator,” she murmured.

“And there I thought being mostly immune to the trials of being a teenage girl was where it was at,” Yunhee joked.

“You are surprisingly well-informed,” she remarked, rolling her eyes, not especially surprised that someone like Yunhee knew about physical cultivators.

“You do learn a few things,” Yunhee said with a half-smile, going over and pushing some qi into a teapot full of cold water to heat it. “It’s not hard to work out if you actually spend any time around physical cultivators with your eyes open.”

-Very true, she agreed to herself, not that I was very subtle about it anyway.

“Are we teleporting or going by road?” she asked, changing the topic somewhat as she sat down to pull on her boots.

“Teleporting… at least part of the way,” Yunhee said. “We will probably have to ride to the one beyond Red Lake though. The rains and the transport have sapped the one here to the point where it only connects to the main terminus towards the coast.”

“They haven’t replaced the spirit stones in it?” she asked.

“No, actually, we have to go with those idiots from the Ha clan, and they want to detour via Red Lake for some reason.”

“Oh,” she sighed.

-And here I had almost managed to forget about them after an evening of over-consuming spirit wine.

Tossing a shawl over her head, she went over to the little altar with its various portraits and, while Yunhee watched on in silence, sipping her tea, lit some incense and bowed. She spent a few minutes giving her morning greetings to her mother, along with some further small prayers for Fenfang, Hong and Shirong, then all the others who had been slain and left abandoned in the tetrid den, before packing away the portraits and origami chrysanthemums in her talisman.

“Are we getting breakfast before we go?” she asked Yunhee.

“Of course; we are leaving early, not like thieves in the night,” the other woman giggled, finishing her cup of tea and standing up. “I take it you have nothing else?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I mostly wore robes from here and everything else is just stored in my talisman. There are no herbs to bring back I think?”

“Talshin is bringing a bunch back, so you don’t need to worry about that,” Yunhee added.

“Okay, that simplifies things,” she murmured, relieved, because going and packing up a bunch of lotus and ginseng would have been a nuisance to do quickly in the rain, especially first thing in the morning.

Taking one last look around, she bowed to the empty altar with its smoking incense a final time, then followed Yunhee out of the room.

The breakfast hall was quiet, which was unsurprising given the weather and the hour. She claimed some soup, some tea and a few pieces of spirit fruit and ate mostly in silence while they waited for the others to show up. Talshin appeared after about twenty minutes, talking quietly to another guard, then, a while after that, Kun Wencheng of all people, looking somewhat annoyed.

“Good morning,” Talshin remarked, coming over to sit with them.

“Morning,” she replied, glancing quizzically at Wencheng, who had gone to sit at the side and was being attended by a maid.

“Young Master Wencheng is being sent to Blue Water City via West Flower Picking Town. Apparently the Kun clan has made some impression upon the imperial visitors, so the elders want to capitalize on that,” Talshin explained.

“Oh…”

Both Talshin and Yunhee rolled their eyes at her exceptionally noncommittal reaction to that information.

“We will have to go via Red Lake as well,” Talshin added.

“Yes, Yunhee told me,” she nodded. “The Ha bunch want to do something there?”

“Yes,” Talshin replied with a sigh, sipping his tea. “I suspect it is mostly just to cause a nuisance, because we could teleport straight to Blue Cliff fortress from here and I would happily supply the spirit stones to expedite that.”

“Are we waiting on anyone else?” Yunhee added.

“Just the ones going with Kun Wencheng,” Talshin said, glancing across at the youth, who was studiously ignoring them. “Lianmei, Chengde and Huanfu will meet us at the Pavilion.”

“They are not staying here?” she asked. “I thought…”

“—Apparently not,” Talshin shrugged. “It seems all the regional captains and cadre leaders, and a senior elder from each regional Pavilion in the province, have been summoned to Blue Water City. The elders currently in West Flower Picking Pavilion will not go…”

“—Because of the Ha Patriarch’s visit,” she finished for him.

“Indeed,” Talshin nodded, taking a sip of his soup. “As to what the reason is, you would have to ask Lianmei. The likeliest possibility is that the Duke wants to put on a show of influence with the momentum that the Imperial Court is gaining through the visit of their princess to Blue Water City.”

“My Spirit Jade would be on that,” Yunhee agreed.

“Yeah,” Talshin nodded.

-Or is it related to what Lianmei and Old Xian were talking about yesterday? she mused, dunking more noodles in her soup.

They ate in relative silence after that, waiting on the purported companions of Wencheng to show up. In the end that took almost another half an hour, at which point Kun Zhuge Fei and Jiang Dan Guang both arrived, looking a bit damp, followed by three other smartly-dressed female disciples from the Jade Willow Sect.

“Do we let them get some food?” Yunhee asked, glancing over at them.

“…”

Talshin also turned to look at Wencheng’s group, who were now speaking to a maid, and nodded. “We have a little time yet, I called him early expecting them to want to drag things out a bit. Zhuge Fei is also a bit of a complication there.”

“Zhuge?” Yunhee frowned. “As in those Zhuge, from over the straits?”

“The very same,” Talshin nodded, pouring himself more tea.

-Oh, that explains a lot, she reflected, thinking back on their meeting the previous day and Kun Zhuge Fei’s rather aloof attitude.

The Kun clan on Eastern Azure had three main branches; the largest was in Nine Moons Province, on the Imperial continent; the richest, according to Juni, was the clan here on the Yin Eclipse sub-continent; but the most powerful, and by extension overbearing, were the group across the Tang Strait on the Northern Tang continent, based in the Iron Crown and Golden Jade provinces.

“So he is someone influential from there?” she asked.

“Not really, Zhuge is a second-rate family,” Talshin grumbled, “but they are still clan guests and so they must be tolerated, because those connections matter.”

“In that case, I will go get more soup,” she declared, standing up with a half-hearted grimace.

Talshin nodded, then turned and waved to a maid to come over, directing her to tell Wencheng’s group that they would be ready to depart soon.

In the end, they waited for another ten minutes before Talshin finally decided that that was long enough. Drinking down the last of her soup she nodded and stood, as did Yunhee. Talshin waved to a servant over at the side of the room and then got up and walked over to Wencheng’s group, who were sitting chatting away in rather care-free fashion.

“Young Lord Talshin,” Wencheng said, standing with a slightly wan smile and saluting him.

“It is time for us to depart,” Talshin said. “We must go via the Pavilion and meet Lady Lianmei as well as the group from the Ha clan, and I would prefer we not be arriving late.”

“…”

“Of course,” Wencheng murmured, not quite glancing at Kun Zhuge Fei.

Kun Zhuge Fei also stood and saluted Talshin, although more in a sense of equals, which they probably were not.

“You must be Jiang Dan Fuhang’s son?” Talshin remarked, glancing at Jiang Dan Guang.

“I am,” Jiang Dan Guang replied, also standing. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, Young Lord Kun. I was sorry not to be able to attend the meal here yesterday, but Sir Ha Wendeng had already extended a very generous invitation…”

“Not at all,” Talshin replied with a shrug. “These things simply are what they are.”

“Indeed,” Kun Zhuge Fei agreed.

She watched as the others grabbed some last bits of food and then they all followed Talshin out of the dining hall and through the estate. They made a brief stop by one of the storehouses to pick up a crate of sealed-up spirit herbs, then, without any further lingering, headed out into the village proper.

Even with the sun barely thinking about crossing the horizon, there was still quite a lot of hustle and bustle on the streets between the Kun estate and the Pavilion. Shops would be closed for much of the afternoon and evening as families attended to New Year rituals, so anything that needed purchasing had to be gotten early.

“Hear Ye, Hear Ye!”

“The Auspice of the Heavenly Hour predicts prosperity for the Ha!”

“Auspice for New Opportunities!”

“Auspice of Great Fortune aligns with those who toil beneath the flag of gainful endeavour!”

Even before they entered the main square, the echoed cries of acolytes reading out the hourly divinations from the village shrine drifted through the hazy rain.

“I really do wonder about those divinations sometimes,” Yunhee muttered beside her.

“They are a bit pompous,” she agreed with a chuckle, watching an acolyte dressed in a ceremonial feather robe on the street corner bang his drum. “Probably they have something to prove after messing up the ones relating to the rains.”

“Undoubtedly,” Yunhee agreed, shaking her head as they passed by the youth.

“You should show more respect to the occasion,” Wencheng muttered, glancing at her.

She didn’t bother to reply and instead just bowed politely to the altar erected on the street corner, which was more than any of the others were bothering to do.

The Pavilion itself was little different from the night before. The mission hall was still busy and several carts with Ha and Chen clan symbols on them were unloading goods for teleportation. Lianmei, Chengde and Huanfu were all waiting for them in the shelter of the steps of the main pavilion, the former studying a jade tablet while Talshin’s friends just talked quietly.

“You are late,” Lianmei remarked, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“By whose measure?” Talshin grunted as the whole group shuffled into the shelter of the covered area before the main pavilion building.

“Whose do you think?” Lianmei sighed, rolling her eyes. “They showed up almost thirty minutes ago.”

“So, where are they?” Talshin asked, looking around, as she also marked the distinct lack of a group from the Ha clan sitting around in supercilious fashion.

“Inside,” Chengde spoke up, “talking with the elders about divinations and ‘what the Ha clan can do to support the Pavilion in what will surely be a trying year’.”

“Pfft,” Huanfu sniggered. “It’s all of their own making, thoroughly shameless really.”

“It is,” Lianmei agreed, glancing up the steps.

“Well, while we wait on them, we can sort out transport,” Talshin mused. “I don’t especially feel like walking to Red Lake while they ride on some fancy carriage that can only fit them.”

“Hah!” Lianmei laughed, nodding in agreement. “Although Ha Mofan is too savvy a political operator for that.”

Talshin just shook his head and walked out into the rain again. There was a short pause, and then a six-wheeled vehicle, with angled sides and a tapered front, somewhere between a large carriage and a covered wagon, appeared about half a metre off the ground and dropped with a dull thump.

“You have a Military Bureau tactical personnel transport…” Wencheng exclaimed dully, staring at the stripped-down military transport wagon.

“Occasionally you have to transport valuable herbs or materials that don’t play well with teleportation,” Talshin replied with a chuckle, walking around the outside, checking the wheels and chassis.

“—and bandits do not stop being bandits when they become Immortals,” Huanfu remarked, rolling his eyes.

“These things can also work without spirit stones as well, so long as you have something to pull them, so they can even be taken into the Yin Eclipse mountain range itself, terrain notwithstanding,” Lianmei added. “You do have something to pull it don’t you?”

She had to admit, despite having seen them before on occasion, that it was an impressive vehicle. Certainly, the group from the Jade Willow Sect were staring with a bit more respect now, even Zhuge Fei and Dan Guang – but most of the larger brokerages had secure transport vehicles like these, and, as the son of the Kun Clan Lord, Talshin was not without means.

The Military Bureau ones, which were usually pulled by qi beasts, were sought-after due to their durability and large transport capacity, functioning as formation centres for large scale formations and mobile re-supply points when the Military Bureau used them for patrols and such. The larger variants even had their own teleportation circles, communication loci and multiple layers of defensive formations. Talshin’s was just a standard patrol vehicle, no doubt stripped of all the fancy stuff, but it was still not common to see them.

She watched, interested, as Talshin walked around to the front and withdrew two head-sized boxes from his storage ring and set them into the tapered front end of the carriage—

With a ripple of displaced space, two puppet horses – each about half again as large as a normal one, their bodies wrought of qi-tempered metal and jade – appeared, turning their heads this way and that, their eyes possessing a dangerous glint of intelligence.

“Those are new,” she remarked, admiring the impressive constructs.

“Gotta love military surplus,” Chengde remarked drily.

“You joke, but just these two cost half a year’s profits,” Talshin grumbled, inserting spirit stones into several points on their flanks. “I got them last month.”

“They are, however, much better than using bound manifestations from qi beast cores,” Chengde added.

“This is true,” Talshin agreed, finishing up connecting the two puppets to the vehicle.

As they all looked on, he snapped his fingers and the puppets took a few steps forward, drawing the carriage with them. A second snap and they walked backwards, again going in a straight line.

“No deviation, that’s good,” Talshin sighed. “It would suck to have to re-do the formation in this weather.”

“What are we transporting that requires this?” Wencheng asked, frowning.

“Moondust grass,” Talshin, who had already started to walk over towards the clerks’ hall, called back. “About a tonne of it.”

“—Ah, you are finally… here…”

She turned to find Ha Caolun had exited the pavilion, followed by the others in the Ha group, and was now looking at the carriage with a slightly dull expression.

“Finally done?” Lianmei asked, standing up.

“…”

Ha Mofan waved the juniors aside and shot her a slightly off look, but rather than say anything, simply nodded.

“Good, we have to load this, then we can be on our way I hope,” Lianmei said.

“What are you transporting?” Ha Mofan frowned.

“Moondust grass,” Lianmei answered. “There is a request from the Alchemy Hall back in West Flower Picking for it.”

“And you are doing this… now,” Ha Mofan frowned.

“Better now than have to make two trips,” Huanfu added, “and you said you had things to see to in Red Lake anyway.”

“…”

“Fine,” Ha Mofan sighed. “It will not be much of an imposition, and we can take Hunter Jun back by teleport—”

“She is requested as part of the transport mission,” Lianmei said blandly.

-I am?

She managed to resist saying that out loud.

“She is?” Ha Mofan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, the request came in yesterday afternoon, from Alchemist Elder Ha Tai Ge,” Lianmei explained, pulling out a clearance request mission and passing it to her. “Given how chaotic matters were yesterday, it was only processed this morning.”

She flicked through the ‘request’, which basically asked for her by name to accompany the shipment as an expert skilled in the transportation of a problematic material, and handed it back. The pay was twenty spirit stones – half ‘now’, half on delivery. The bit that was hilarious though, to her at least, was that it also requested Ha Leng, Ha Caolun, and the other three Ha youths, all of whom had varying degrees of guest expert status with the Hunter Bureau, as subsidiary team members… at a lesser rate.

-And that is why you don’t annoy elders, she thought wryly, passing it back to Lianmei.

Alchemist Tai Ge was someone she knew… slightly – mostly by reputation. Likely he had owed Lianmei some favour, or maybe had some issue with Ha Mofan or whoever else was behind one of the other missions.

“May I?” Ha Mofan frowned.

“Sure,” Lianmei tossed him the jade slip, which he stared at for a long moment.

“That seems in order, well played, Elder Lianmei,” Ha Mofan sighed.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Lianmei replied, with an expression worthy of a high stakes ‘Gu Takes All’ player.

“Is there some problem?” Ha Botan, who had also now come out with the pair from the Din clan, asked Ha Mofan.

“It seems we are going by road, back to West Flower Picking Town,” Ha Mofan said drily.

“We are?” Ha Botan frowned.

“Why?” Ha Caolun asked.

“Because you have a clearance request,” Ha Mofan replied, holding the jade out for Ha Caolun. “To help escort a tonne of moondust grass back to West Flower Picking Town for Alchemist Ge.”

“…”

Ha Caolun stared dully at Ha Mofan, then at her. Ha Leng took the opportunity to claim the jade instead, skimming through it for himself before passing it to Ha Caolun, who himself then read it, his face turning rather gloomy; likely because as a ‘guest expert’, his remuneration was only four spirit stones, rather than the twelve Ha Leng was getting as a full Pavilion Hunter.

“—Bring them over here!”

Talshin’s voice cut through her brief moment of amused catharsis, watching the Ha group and the pair from the Din clan process that they too would be spending at least a full day riding the long way around the edge of the mountain range back to West Flower Picking Town. The moondust grass precluded taking any teleports as well, because the stuff was prone to just vanishing if it came into contact with chaotic Spatial Qi; while it was possible to seal it up, the seals cost more than the grass was worth by a large margin.

Storing away her umbrella, she took out her grass cloak and hat and headed out into the rain to meet Talshin and Elder Mu, who were escorting half a dozen workmen carrying sealed crates towards the wagon.

After a moment, Ha Leng sighed and followed after her, shaking his head.

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~ HAN SHU – WEST FLOWER PICKING TOWN, HAN CLAN ESTATE ~

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“Get that nine generations’ cursed idiot out of there!”

“May a monkey piss on your head!”

“GET AWAY FROM IT!”

Han Shu stared, slightly detached from events thanks to his mantra, at the chaos unfolding around him as the blood vetch tore through the swampy clearing of shadow balsam, dragging people down, piercing limbs, snaring weapons and generally doing what they always did – cause chaos and mayhem.

“...with Bright eye and will of Iron, find the Beginning of the moment, touching Worldly circumstances, and Gift strength…”

Grimacing, because trying to string the long form of his mantra into a meaningful flow that gave the same benefits as using it the short way was atrociously difficult, he darted forward, jumped over two lashing, purple-flowered vines and landed beside Ha Jin Xiang, the perpetrator of this whole mess, then grasped the plant trying to burrow into his leg.

His mantra got two cycles, pushing qi around his body and repelling the toxic miasma of blood vetch pollen before a long-legged shadow rippled out of nowhere—

The burning eye wandering spider that had been parasitized by the vetch was about the size of a small cat and stupidly fast, even with the suppression at the edge of the Shadow Forest. He managed to catch it by its thorax, stopping its fangs from closing on his arm, and in return, the strand of the blood vetch twisted around his leg, shifting from the chief’s son to him, breaking his skin and sending threads of devouring qi into his body—

{Ha Baam’s Fire Flash}

*Booom*

The talisman exploded right over them, a flare of white fire and chaotic qi…

…

*Hruuuummmble*

The thunder rattled the house as Han Shu opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his room, grimacing. This mantra cycle faded away as he lost the thread of the linked words, replaced with a dull ache in his leg, arm and now… head.

Grimacing, he sat up, fighting the urge to feed the phantom pain from the spider bites on his arm – which had occurred after one of Ha Jin Xiang’s ‘friends’ had tried to intervene and ‘support’ him hauling the idiot out of the blood vetch – to his mantra.

-Somehow, it actually gets worse with every repeat viewing, he reflected, flexing his hand.

Staring at his arm, which itched horribly, he closed his eyes for a moment and tried to banish the creepy feeling that the spiders were still on him… and failed.

The physical wound had healed before he was even back in the village, and the qi poisoning within a few hours. Unfortunately, the parasitized burning eye wandering spider had been a female, and carried small, baby spiders with it… and their venom, touched by the mutative powers of the blood vetch, was heavily attributed towards yin fire… which attacked the soul as well as the body. For someone with a nascent soul, or developed soul sense that was a headache, but for someone like him, who had neither, it was excruciating.

His mantra helped, but it was no good at soul related stuff, so all he could do was wait it out. Flopping back down on the bed, he again returned to looking at the ceiling, listening to the rain outside and the echoes of the thunder drifting through the pre-dawn gloom.

-And I was bitten outside the suppression zone… because of those idiots.

That was the problem really, he reflected, as the memories played out in his mind…

Of dragging Ha Jin Xiang out of the balsam field…

The panic among the others when they discovered that the female spider had originated outside the suppression zone and was likely a pet of a previous victim of the plant…

That there was nothing stopping either it or its brood following after them…

The rain had been the tipping point, really. Several of those along with Ha Jin Xiang had been visitors, unfamiliar with the unusual weather… and, panicked by events, they had not checked thoroughly for small spiders after they chased it off with a barrage of talismans. It wasn’t until they were well back to the village that the parasitized spawn had sprung their final, parting ambush…

“Wet season, ehh…”

He lay there for a few more moments, until the sensation of invisible spiders started to appear in the deep shadows of the room’s corners.

“I suppose I should be thankful it wasn’t a shadow-eyed stalker, or a cave centipede… but what moron uses a spider like that as a bound beast?”

Finally giving up, he sat up again and slipped off the bed. Heading over to the balcony of his room, he pulled open the wooden screen door and stepped out into the light rain that was streaming down.

He was drenched in humid rain within seconds, which both helped… and didn’t, but it was, at least, not lying in a dark room pondering that moment over and over, trying to use the experience to advance his foundation a bit closer to Mantra Seed.

“At least nobody died…” he said to the world at large, looking out over the garden in the middle of the Han estate, past the river, towards the centre of West Flower Picking Town, where tall pagodas were just visible in the misty rain.

Leaning on the balcony, he lost himself in the sound of the rain and the swirling mists…

“HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU THIEVING LITTLE RAT!”

His moment of attempted calm was broken by the enraged shriek of his younger cousin Han Xiaoxiao, followed by the crashing of a window further along the courtyard and the sight of a small, furry figure fleeing into the trees of the garden, a colourful blue and gold shawl grasped in one hand.

“…”

-A monkey…

“Yep, wet season is properly here,” he reflected drily to himself, watching the small white- and brown-furred monkey bounce from tree to tree, dodging two pots thrown in quick succession.

“THIS DAUGHTER WILL—!”

Her screech cut off, presumably as someone else got to her before she could make threats regarding the ‘thief’ that might be held over the household. Monkeys were dangerous like that; especially at this time of year, when they could act with near impunity in the bad weather.

Sighing, he shook his head and walked back into his room, grabbing a towel from over the back of a chair and drying his hair as he headed out of his rooms into the house. Xiaoxiao’s rooms were only a short walk along the corridor, so it didn’t take long to get there. His sixteen-year-old cousin was remonstrating at length with a maid and his uncle Han Ryong, pointing at her open window and the chair and generally making it clear that she didn’t like monkeys.

“Look, Xiaoxiao, you cannot demand that someone go and skin it…” Han Ryong, who was also the one who oversaw most of the estate, explained patiently.

“It stole my shawl!” Xiaoxiao reiterated, her qi rippling in the air around her. “That was a gift I got when my spirit root was divined!”

“—and it will probably leave it in the garden, after using it to swing off a few trees…” his uncle added, patiently, then noticed him. “Ah, Shu… Sorry this woke you.”

“It’s fine,” he replied politely. “I wasn’t really sleeping in any case.”

“Your injury is still...?” His uncle asked, sounding concerned.

“No more than—”

“—Cousin Han!” Xiaoxiao puffed out her cheeks and rounded on him. “You will go get my shawl back and beat up that stupid monkey, won’t you?”

“…”

“Won’t you?”

Her repeat plea settled somewhere between a demand and wheedling, and made him feel a bit bad for her, in all honesty, because between her and her brother Xiaobo, she was by far the ‘nicer’ of his two cousins on that side of the family.

“Ah… I am afraid I am with Uncle Ryong on this,” he replied apologetically. “The last thing the estate needs is a vendetta with a troupe of monkeys. Especially in this weather.”

-Not to mention, they are not stupid, and will ambush me if I go into the suppression zone later… After the mess in Green Veil Village I do not need to be marked by a bunch of monkeys for a month!

“You’re all mean!” Xiaoxiao declared, stamping her foot. “I am going to go tell father!”

“…”

They both watched her flounce out the door…

“…”

She rushed back in almost immediately, glaring at them, as if daring either to comment, and grabbed a proper robe to put over the light gown she had been sleeping in. He watched in diplomatic silence as she dashed off again, the maid following after her charge with a helpless shrug.

“Sorry,” his uncle murmured after a long moment. “The other children were warned about them…”

“It’s fine, at least it just stole a shawl,” he remarked drily, walking over to the veranda and looking out at the trees.

The young monkey in question was sitting in one in the middle of the garden, watching them with beady eyes. Spotting them watching it, it stood and slapped its ass with the shawl, making mocking gestures.

“I guess this year’s bunch are going to be troublesome though,” he mused.

“It does look that way,” Uncle Ryong sighed.

“Hopefully they just limit themselves to petty theft and the occasional bit of mooning,” he added. “Angry monkey troupes in this weather are not pleasant.”

“No, no they are not,” his uncle agreed. “I will make sure everyone understands that Miss Xiaoxiao is to be humoured and that one of the others less familiar with them will not be tempted to exact justice on her behalf.”

“Please,” he agreed, suppressing a shudder. “There are issues enough with the Pavilion as is, without me having to explain that my cousin has offended a bunch of monkeys so I cannot go on any missions into the mountains.”

“What are your plans for the day?” Uncle Ryong asked him.

-Good question, he mused, staring out at the swaying treetops. What are they?

He had been back in West Flower Picking Town for two days, mostly just convalescing from the worst of the ‘soul scarring’ from the bites and doing odd things around the estate to pass the time. Various other branches of the Han clan were in town for the New Year’s events, so it was easy work to give some advice on a few gardens or suggest some spirit herbs to relatives that would help their children prepare their foundations and so on.

He had mostly avoided the Hunter Bureau, beyond speaking to Elder Ling when he got back to explain the circumstances of the mess Green Veil Village had managed to cook up out of a fairly simple clearance request for setting up a formation to deal with part of their shadow balsam infestation.

“Probably I will have to go to the Hunter Bureau again at some point,” he said at last. “I am the only nine-star ranked Hunter in town at the moment I am fairly sure, so Elder Ling will undoubtedly have things that need attended to.”

Old Ling had been grumbling about that the previous day. Jun Arai had apparently been caught up in some mess near Jade Willow Village. Kun Juni was tied up with politics in Blue Water City, as apparently were Jun Sana, Lin Ling and Ren Kalis. That left Ha Mu Feng and Duan Mu not out on clearance requests. The former was a complete flake and the latter was a spiritual cultivator also recovering from an injury.

“Other than that, I’ll probably go run errands about town. There are a few things that need dealing with in regards to the estate given it’s the New Year, are there not?”

“There are, if you are feeling that civic-minded,” Uncle Ryong remarked drily. “Your other cousins are mostly out drinking with your older brothers. They have… not come back yet.”

He just shot his uncle a look, shaking his head. That was not surprising really: if he had not been feeling horrible yesterday evening he might have been out with them.

“I assume it is too early for breakfast?” he asked at last.

“No, actually, most are up and about, given the weather makes it hard for spiritual cultivators to meditate,” his uncle said drily.

“I weep for their problems,” he replied in kind, giving his wet hair another rub.

“How is your progress with your physical cultivation coming along?” Uncle Ryong asked as they exited Xiaoxiao’s room.

“…”

He paused to stare down the corridor for a moment, fighting the urge to sigh.

“That bad eh?” the old man chuckled.

“No… it’s just, I can barely sustain two cycles with what you showed me,” he said at last.

“Ah. Trying to use it to reflect on the events with that blood vetch?” his uncle mused.

He nodded silently.

“That’s tricky. While our family’s inheritance has hidden depths, and both ‘Bright’ and ‘Iron’ can be applied to the ‘soul’, it is not easy,” Uncle Ryong added. “I would not feel too bad, I was well into my thirties before I managed to use the full form comfortably.”

He sighed, nodding again.

“You are disheartened because you see others rushing past you,” Uncle Ryong said, stopping to look out over the inner courtyard around which the wing of rooms they were in was set.

He found he wanted to say ‘no’, but actually, that was a lie. It was difficult to look at others, half his age, already at Golden Core. Two of his cousins who were in their late twenties had even hit Soul Foundation earlier in the year. The worst part was that both his older brothers, Bao and Jiang, had taken the choice not to accept the inheritance, and practiced the martial cultivation manuals of the Han clan instead, so as the sole remaining ‘heir’ of the main family line, he had effectively had the choice made for him.

His Uncle Ryong had been the one in the Han family’s previous generation to take on the mantle of inheriting the ancestral cultivation method, and as such, he was the one largely responsible for passing it down. Two of his other uncles, Feng and Chen, also practiced it, as did his grandfather, Cangfei, but the old man was so reclusive as to only appear once or twice a year at best, usually to collect more cultivation resources from his ‘unfilial descendants’.

“You don’t have to hide it,” Han Ryong murmured, sympathetically. “I know you feel aggrieved over the lack of a choice.”

“It’s not that,” he grimaced, feeling bad suddenly, because in a way it was. “It’s just a bit unpleasant to watch others pass you by and have them not even acknowledge their part in why that is.”

“…”

“Your brothers will not change their mentality,” his uncle said, sounding about as vexed about it as he was, really. “That said, you know enough by now to know that physical cultivation does not suit everyone, and that the criteria for it is much more stringent than for martial or spiritual cultivation…”

“Yes, you have said,” he sighed, because this was hardly the first time they had had this chat. “It is second only to Dharma cultivation in that regard…”

“Indeed,” Han Ryong agreed, stroking his beard pensively. “Though if my father had thought he could get preferential access to cultivation resources out of the Temple of the Five Mountain Buddhas…”

“Please, do not joke,” he retorted with a shudder.

His uncle was not being entirely serious… he hoped, but it was undeniable that between him and his two brothers, his grandfather took noticeably more interest in him. The old man had also been the one to suggest he join the Hunter Pavilion rather than the Military Bureau when he was twelve.

“…”

Han Ryong cast him a long look, then cracked a half-smile, giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Look on the bright side. Had you been a spiritual cultivator two days ago, you would be in a coma right now.”

“That’s… not a bright side,” he pointed out, rubbing his still-itching arm for emphasis as they started walking again.

“Of course it is!” Han Ryong grinned. “Life forced a steaming pile of monkey shit on you, you cannot change that; however, you can find the positives in it and accept what you can of it that makes you stronger.”

“…”

“Still doesn’t help,” he pointed out sourly as they arrived back at his room. “I’ll get dressed and see you down at breakfast?”

“Of course,” his uncle nodded.

He watched Han Ryong take his leave, then went back into his rooms and walked into the side room.

Filling up the washstand with cold water, he splashed it on his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment. A slightly tanned youth with two days’ worth of stubble on his face stared back at him, looking a bit jaded. Pulling his top off, he checked the injuries to his side and arm, in case there was any residual evidence of contamination from the blood vetch or spider bites.

Thankfully, there was not, so he went back into his bedroom and, going to the wardrobe set into the wall, picked out a fairly neutral blue, purple and grey robe with a few red clouds embroidered on it and pulled it on. Finally, he spent a few moments tying up his shoulder-length brown hair into a loose plait and, after claiming his storage talisman from the table by his bed, found some boots, claimed an umbrella and hurried after Han Ryong.

The halls were mostly deserted as he made his way down to the ground floor and around the courtyard of the personal quarters of the estate, avoiding the rain where he could. However, he only made it as far as the next courtyard when someone calling his name made him slow.

“Han—!”

“Young Master SHU!”

Stopping, he turned to find one of the female servants Han Xiaoxiao’s family had brought with them hurrying around the edge of the paved courtyard from the direction he had just come, looking a bit vexed.

“How can I help you?” he asked politely.

“Young Master Han Xiaobo,” the woman began with a slight bow, “have you seen him?”

“Seen him?” he blinked. “No… I haven’t.”

“Oh… you were supposed to be training him this hour…” the woman groaned. “Where is he?”

“I… what?” he asked, confused.

“Yes, you are supposed to be training Young Master Xiaobo, ahead of his participation in the Ha Patriarch’s New Year’s tournament for young heroes who have formed their Golden Cores this year?” the woman repeated.

“…”

“I… have not seen him,” he said. “I was just on my way to eat breakfast.”

“Uh…” the woman stared at him, frowning.

He had a pang of sympathy for the woman, but she had to know as well as he did that there was a sort of rhythm to dealing with your extended family. This was his family’s estate, even if the others might be more influential elsewhere around the province, and the rules of being a good guest were as important as those for being a good host.

“Also, nobody told me anything about training him,” he pointed out. “I have been convalescing… from an injury?”

The woman opened and shut her mouth, looking nonplussed, as if this wasn’t quite how this conversation was meant to go.

“I am sure he will show up,” he added, hoping privately that the boy would forget about it in all honesty. “If he wants me to train him—”

“Sparring, the young master said you would spar with him, he has new arts…” the woman clarified.

“I doubt that will be possible,” he replied a bit more firmly, not really feeling like being forced to be a punching bag for Han Xiaobo. “As I said I am recovering from an injury… I was poisoned by yin fire venom from a qi beast.”

“You will have to take that up with Master Han,” the woman said, retreating to the defence of pushing the problem to Xiaobo’s father. “In any case, I must find him.”

“In that case, good luck,” he said diplomatically. “I’ll look for him at breakfast...”

-And find out who thinks I should be the one being beaten up by that spoilt brat… he added to himself.

“…”

“Thank you, Young Master Han,” the woman said, bowing slightly.

He bowed politely to her in return and took his leave, walking with a bit more purpose in the direction of the kitchens and dining hall.

-The last thing I want is to—

“—WAIT!”

“…”

Sighing, he pretended he hadn’t heard as a youth of sixteen years, carrying a training sword, came out of the hall on the far side of the courtyard he had just entered.

“Wait up!

“I said—”

Xiaobo’s voice cut off abruptly, making him turn back to find the youth, who had headed directly across the courtyard for him, now lying flat out on the ground at the bottom of the steps to the hall, a greenish-golden stone pot rolling on the ground beside him.

“What…”

He stared blankly at the scene, then, suddenly having a bad feeling looked up… and found a white- and brown-furred monkey, about the size of the one that robbed Xiaoxiao, sitting on the edge of the second floor veranda grinning toothily.

The monkey met his gaze then, quite deliberately, hopped down into the courtyard by the stunned Xiaobo and, lifting up his cousin’s training sword, proceeded to cut off half of Xiaobo’s long hair.

“…”

The monkey looked at him again, and seeing that he still made no move… mostly because his brain was a bit frozen at this point, turned back to the unconscious youth and took off his storage ring. He looked on in silence as the small monkey considered it, licked it, frowned and then, very deliberately… shoved it… into its ass, before replacing it on the unconscious youth’s finger.

-What by the nine auspicious ancestral…

He watched blankly, as, for a final insult, the monkey pissed on the prostrated Xiaobo’s robe, then gave him one final, toothy grin before climbing back up onto the roof on the second floor veranda, still carrying Xiaobo’s hair, and vanishing into the light rain.

He stared in silence at the unconscious youth, trying to process what had just happened…

“YOUNG MASTER!” the maid, who had come after him because this was the only route you could take through here, finally appeared and saw Xiaobo.

“What happened to him?” the woman said, aghast.

“I believe he has been attacked by a monkey,” he replied, walking over to look at the stunned Xiaobo.

“H-his hair!” the woman gasped, horrified, before rounding on him. “Why did you not…”

“…”

After a moment’s quick reflection on what he could probably get away with saying, he decided to say nothing and just stared at her dully.

“We must take him and get someone… goodness, what did this?” the woman muttered, poking at him, then noticing the pot.

“At a guess… a monkey dropped a pot on his head as he was coming out of the training hall here,” he said.

“A monkey…” the woman stared at him, the pot, then up at the roof.

“Xiaoxiao just had her shawl stolen by one, not ten minutes ago,” he added helpfully.

“Young Miss Xiao…” the woman repeated, looking a bit dazed.

“Let’s take him to the breakfast hall,” he supplied helpfully. “There will be someone there who can get to the bottom of this...”

-I hope, he added to himself. Otherwise this might be the start of a very trying day.

“Can you carry him?” the woman asked, hopefully.

“…”

Given he had just seen a monkey piss all over the boy’s fancy robes, he really didn’t want to actually lift Xiaobo… unfortunately, as appealing as it was, dragging him by the scruff of the neck was probably also not on.

“Help me take his robe off,” he said after a moment.

“Take… his?” the woman repeated, clearly still not quite grasping matters.

“I’ve seen this kind of thing before,” he said with a sigh, passing her his umbrella to hold. “Monkeys like to do stupid things… and pissing on people or smearing shit on them…”

“A monkey pissed on Young Master Xiaobo?” the woman said dully.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he shrugged, opening Xiaobo’s robe up carefully. “But I cannot afford to go back and change, not everyone can be as carefree as Xiaobo here.”

The woman stared at him and sighed, nodding.

Getting the robe off the boy, he made a show of sniffing it and grimacing, then tossed it aside. Scrubbing the high quality robe was beyond his means as a physical cultivator, though probably the monkey had marked it with intent. Almost certainly it would probably need to be washed properly.

The woman picked it up and also sniffed, then grimaced in disgust.

“It really did, how barbaric,” she shuddered.

Saying nothing, he hefted Xiaobo up and put him over his shoulder, rather like a sack of spirit herbs, and held out his hand for the umbrella.

The maid stared at him blankly for a few seconds before realising what he wanted and giving herself a shake before handing it back.

“Please bring the robe,” he added, noting she had dropped it again.

-I will need it, if this story of me training with the idiot is actually widespread, he thought glumly, setting off in the direction of the breakfast hall.

“…”

After a moment, he stopped though, and turned to her again.

“And the pot as well, I think.”

“…”

The maid stared at him blankly.

“It is from Xiaoxiao’s room… which she threw at a monkey not ten minutes ago,” he explained.

The maid stared at him, then nodded and went back to grab it.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he set off again towards the breakfast hall.

…

The breakfast hall was… more packed than he would have liked it, he had to conclude, as he entered carrying the still-comatose Han Xiaobo. There were a few laughs and some humorous double-takes as various people realised who he was carrying, however the biggest reaction, rather predictably came from Han Xiaobo’s mother, Han Fan Linhua, who was seated at the far side of the hall, consoling her daughter, and who stood up with a screech almost as soon as he entered.

“Uh... what happened?” Han Ryong, who was thankfully much closer to the door than Xiaobo’s mother, asked, also standing up.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY XIAOBO!” Han Fan Linhua yelled accusatorily, before he could say anything at all.

“Nothing, beyond carry him here rather than leave him in the rain,” he replied honestly, glancing at the maid, who shuffled awkwardly but nodded in agreement.

Various other clan members around the hall, all probably quite aware of how obnoxious Xiaobo could be, eyed him disbelievingly.

“…”

“Come on!” he snapped, suddenly a bit annoyed, putting Xiaobo down on a handy table. “I just got up, I came for breakfast and saw a monkey hit him on the head with an ornamental pot that Xiaoxiao threw out the window of her room at another one not ten minutes before!”

“I see…” Han Ryong sighed, getting the gist of circumstances at last.

“The pot I threw?” Xiaoxiao, who had also come over, said dully, staring at her brother.

“Yes,” he affirmed, waving to the pot that the maid was still holding.

“You should have done something!” Xiaobo’s mother, who was now fussing over her unconscious son, declared flatly, glaring at him.

“I did, Aunt, I brought him here—”

“…”

“And why is he…” Linhua snatched the robe off the maid, then scrunched up her face almost immediately.

“C-c-covered in?” she hissed, dropping it, her face shifting from shock, past disgust to anger in a few seconds.

“Sister-in-law…” Han Ryong frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder, making the somewhat oppressive aura around them all dissipate. “It is first thing, and this is no way to behave towards your nephew, who has brought his cousin here to be checked over.”

“My dear little Bo is covered in monkey piss… and his… his…”

There was some stifled laughter from around the hall as other onlookers realised that Han Xiaobo had had his hair cut by the monkey as well.

“Uncle, someone needs to find out how Xiaobo and Xiaoxiao annoyed a bunch of monkeys,” he said, turning to Han Ryong.

“Indeed. One incident is amusing, two is a pattern,” Han Ryong agreed, glancing at Xiaoxiao who was frowning now.

“I don’t suppose you saw what happened?” Han Murai, another of his uncles, on his mother’s side, who was a sergeant in the town guard had also come over to look.

“I can surmise,” he said, glancing at the maid. “Miss…”

-Shit, I forgot to ask her name, he groaned inwardly.

“Jinghua,” she supplied helpfully.

“Miss Jinghua found me when I was on my way to the breakfast hall, and told me Xiaobo was looking for me because he had been told I was to spar with him?”

“You were?” Han Ryong frowned, looking around.

There were other shrugs from those looking on, which made him inwardly sigh in relief. If there had been something, he was fairly sure his uncle Ryong would have said something, but the confused faces of the others in the hall all but confirmed it was just something Xiaobo–

“Ah… Brother Bao did say that Shu here would take his place training with young Xiaobo,” one of his other younger cousins, Guanfen, who had also come over, said.

“My brother did…” he repeated dully.

“Xiaobo was out with us last night, and wanted Brother Bao to train him…” Guanfen explained. “Brother Bao said he was very busy today… but that he was sure it would be no imposition on you, as you were here anyway with… nothing to do.”

“…”

-My stupid brothers... he sighed.

“Well, that clears that up,” he remarked a bit more tartly than he intended, truth be told. “Xiaobo was set to train with my brother who fobbed it off and didn’t think to tell anyone.”

-It’s not like they didn’t know I was badly injured!

“So it seems,” Han Ryong agreed, looking a bit annoyed. “Linhua, if you like someone can take him to a room and give him a tonic?”

“I… yes,” Han Fan Linhua nodded, still looking a bit angry.

“Kunfei, Tenfan?” Han Ryong said, turning to two young men watching with amused looks from a nearby table, who were… second cousins on his mother’s side and a few years older than he was.

Both sighed, finished their tea and walked over, lifted Xiaobo off the table without much ceremony and carried him out of the room, followed by the fuming Fan Linhua and the maid, Jinghua.

“She will calm down in a while,” Han Ryong sighed, before turning back to Xiaoxiao, who was still there.

“And you, Young Miss, what do you know about this?” his uncle asked, frowning.

“Know?” she gawked. “I HAD MY SHAWL STOLEN BY THAT LITTLE VILLAIN!”

“Well, yes,” Han Murai remarked drily. “Once is just an opportunistic young monkey… twice in ten minutes means you are being targeted. Why don’t you come have a chat with me and your uncle Ryong about what you… and Xiaobo were up to yesterday?”

“…”

He watched for a moment as his uncles escorted the still-outraged Xiaoxiao back to her table and started to talk to her in hushed tones, then shook his head again and went over to the long table at the side of the room to get some food.

The breakfast on offer, however, was…

He stared at the selection of cold meats, naan bread, pastries stuffed with spicy spirit herbs, a large platter of roasted gourds and what amounted to a rather tepid curry made from spirit vegetables of all five elemental attributes that owed far more to symbolism than it did ‘taste’ for a good few seconds before recalling that there was ‘traditional’ food, for the New Year, and that this was it.

This was the first time in a good number of years that his parents’ estate had drawn the short straw to host this gathering. Usually some of his uncles went to either Blue Water City or Blue Cliff Town, on the river between here and the coast, where Xiaobo’s family were. Any feast was there usually, and he had not gone to any of the last… nine, instead preferring to go out with friends from the town or his fellow Herb Hunters.

“It is a bit much, isn’t it?”

He looked over to see that Han Mei Chang, who managed various elements of the household on behalf of his mother, and was only a few years older than him, had also come over to get some food.

“I had forgotten that mother and father go elsewhere, usually,” he remarked drily, surveying what was on offer.

“Yeah,” Mei Chang nodded, picking up a few random bits of meat and then a piece of naan bread. “And this is only made more tiresome because half of them are here for the Ha Patriarch’s celebration.”

Nodding, he followed suit, grabbing some cold meat, bread and a few of the pastries, and followed her back to an unoccupied table.

They ate in silence, he considering what to do with the rest of the day and she poring over a book in silence, until at last Mei Chang sighed and put the text aside.

“Are the monkeys going to be a problem?” she asked.

“Maybe?” he answered truthfully. “It depends what annoyed them. It might just be something opportunistically innocuous. Uncle Ryong will work that out and I am sure you will find out in due course.”

“True,” she agreed with a sigh, sitting back and taking in the bustle of the hall.

He poured them both tea in silence, then also took in the various clansmen and women taking breakfast. Mostly they were guardsmen, merchants of various stripes, craftsmen and, because it was New Year’s, a few of his distant cousins who were members of the Flower Star Pavilion, one of the sects in the town.

This eclectic gathering reflected the reality that the ‘Han estate’ was, like several others, closer to a small village within West Flower Picking Town than a genuine ‘estate’ for a singular large family. It was a collection of households, all unified under one sign, in this case ‘Han’, that had been in this region since before the town itself was founded in the years after the Huang-Mo Wars and banded together for socio-economic purposes and then managed to keep the connection even after the town subsumed the settlement.

They were not nobles, not as you would consider the Kun or the Ha… or the Deng, though a few members, like Fan Linhua, were from minor noble stock.

As such, other branches put on some pretension, pushing themselves up to appear like very minor nobles – spurred on by people such as Fan Linhua – but really, they were either soldiers or merchants for the most part. It was that pretension that meant everyone was here this year, because the gathering for the Ha Patriarch provided an opportunity to make connections.

“The problem is more likely Xiaobo than Xiaoxiao,” he mused, sipping his tea, noting that she was still talking to his uncles. “Xiaoxiao will just make a fuss, but Xiaobo might actually convince one of his friends to try and exact some meaningful revenge, or kill one.”

“Sovereign Ancestors please say not,” Mei Chang muttered, making an auspicious sign.

“Quite,” he agreed. “It’s not the most auspicious start to a new year.”

“Not been the most auspicious ending to the previous one either,” Chang sighed. “Problems upon problems really.”

“So, what does mother need?” he asked at last, because, while he got on with Mei Chang, she was someone who was always purposeful.

“Can’t I just talk to others over breakfast?” she grumbled.

“…”

“Fair, I suppose,” she conceded, pushing the book over to him.

“One with the Spear, by Chronicler Qing…” he mused, flipping it over and looking at the title picture, which showed a heroic youth carrying a spear and sitting cross legged before a lake.

“In which the valiant Hero Cang, outraged by the excesses of the Evil Duke of Bao, challenges Bao’s son to honourable combat…” he read off the inside cover.

-This is absolutely one of those martial romance stories that features Cang Di, isn’t it?

“If you are going out, your mother wants you to go to Quibo’s Celestial Reading Hall and pick up the next volume of this, it is out today,” Mei Chang said with aplomb. “There is a talisman in the back.”

Turning to the back, he found that there was indeed a talisman for a ‘first edition’ copy of the next volume.

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded, because some fights were just impossible.

“I can do that,” he agreed. “Does she want them first thing or later?”

“As soon as is convenient,” Mei Chang clarified. “Apparently she doesn’t want others to spoil it when she is out about town. The volume is released today, to coincide with the auspicious auguries of the New Year.”

-So, first thing then, he concluded, reading between the lines.

“Is there anything else?” he asked.

“Beast cores,” Mei Chang added after staring into the middle distance. “We need about forty… grade two.”

“We do?” he asked.

“Your cousin Sunhee has been accepted as a disciple of Talisman Master Ruhai,” Mei Chang said. “Your mother thought the family should give him a bunch of them as an acknowledgement of his achievement on the New Year.”

“We should have loads of those…” he pointed out, distinctly recalling donating about three hundred to the family coffers over the previous year, mostly from qi-insects and the like that had been culled doing requests. “I distinctly—”

“—they all got used this last week,” Mei Cheng interrupted, looking a bit annoyed. “Xiaobo and his friends wanted to practice fighting ‘beasts’, so your father let them use them in the training hall formation.”

“The things you miss when you’re out doing honest work.” he reflected sourly.

“Oh… and there is a list of New Year’s ‘first greetings’ gifts for the ceremonial dinner later as well,” Mei Chang frowned.

“Shouldn’t this have been dealt with already?” he asked.

“Some of it has, but your father wanted some specific things, to show the wealth and influence of our family… so I rather fear that much of that list is going to require you to either twist Kun Talshin’s arm or ask the Jun sisters nicely.”

“Uh… you do know that all of them are currently out of town?” he pointed out.

“They are?” she groaned.

“They are,” he confirmed. “Talshin might be back today, but Jun Sana is in Blue Water City and Jun Arai has some difficult clearance mission apparently.”

“Oh well, do what you can,” Mei Chang sighed, pushing a jade scrip over to him. “The Estate can afford it for once.”

“Can it?” he grumbled, looking down the list, which came to several thousand spirit stones’ worth of expense in the worst case scenario. “Isn’t this just making my cousins’ families richer at our expense?”

“I don’t make the lists,” Mei Chang muttered. “Take it up with your father.”

“…”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do,” he conceded, finishing his tea. “I’ll have to go to the Pavilion anyway to see Elder Ling, and likely go by Mrs Leng’s as well, so I’ll have mother’s book for her within… the hour?”

“Okay,” Mei Chang replied. “I will tell her.”

Giving one last look at the rather rich, not particularly spiritual food, he stood up and bowed politely to her, then departed the breakfast hall, shopping list in hand.

…

Nobody really bothered him on his way out of the estate and into the misty gloom of the early morning streets of West Flower Picking Town. The Han estate was south of the river that ran through the town, within the Blue River district, so he set off towards the Yu bridge, which joined his home district to the wealthier, mercantile Yu District north of the river. A few people nodded to him, but mostly those he passed were content to mind their own business at this hour, hurrying along under umbrellas or talking quietly in the shelter of shopfronts. Here and there, posters detailing the first of the New Year’s ‘divinations’ were already going up, proclaiming prosperity for the Ha Patriarch’s celebration and generally for the year ahead.

-I wonder what they would put up if that wasn’t the case? he through wryly, stopping to skim a poster as an employee of the town’s Astrology Bureau put it up. Probably just find some way to twist the reading to suit their ends anyway…

That was the problem with divinations: given enough time and run-up, they could mean whatever you wanted. The ‘divinations’ in this instance were mostly theatre anyway, a far cry from the life or death things he was used to dealing with in regards to hunting herbs in the Yin Eclipse Mountains or the western side of the Shadow Forest.

It took him about ten minutes to walk down to the boulevard that ran along the south side of the Blue River and finally reach the Yu Bridge. Crossing over the bridge, he found that there were already boats out on the water, priests scattering offerings and chanting prayers to the Three Pure Ones, the Blue Morality Emperor and the Ancestors of the various influential clans in the province.

“—Want to make an offering to Ha prosperity, Young Master?”

He glanced sideways at the alluring woman beneath her umbrella leaning on the parapet and just shook his head politely without stopping. No doubt the woman was looking to make money by accompanying some rich young master for the day, so others would think he was blessed with a beautiful woman.

-Sorry, wrong scion of the Han clan, he thought wryly, moving on a bit more quickly as the courtesan pouted sulkily.

“Daughter for a day…?”

He nearly tripped as a young woman about half his age, also dressed alluringly, albeit in a much more homely manner, called out to him after he had barely gone twenty more paces.

“Ahem… no, thank you,” he replied.

“...” the girl, who he realised belatedly was a flower seller, actually glared at him.

“Erm… are you not one of the flower sellers from Wusheng Bridge?” he asked, mostly because he half recognised her.

“I am,” the girl sighed. “But half the others are gone, including Miss Fen, so where are we to get flowers to sell?”

“Even so…” he said, looking around. “This isn’t exactly…”

“Bah! Monkey on,” the girl scowled, shooing him away. “Be a skinflint elsewhere.”

“…”

-Weird… he sighed, looking down the river at the distant Wusheng Bridge for a moment, before moving on. Though I suppose it is still of an hour where you can get away with that out in the open, especially in this weather.

Leaving the bridge, he turned right and headed up the river boulevard, running parallel to the river, in the direction of the tall pagoda at the heart of the West Flower Picking Hunter Pavilion, on the western river end of the Pavilion District.

Thankfully, although also, a part of him had to admit, a bit disappointingly, he was not propositioned a third time before he finally arrived at the large tree-lined square that separated the Hunter Pavilion from the river. Here, there was a lot more hustle and bustle, mostly because of the ongoing logistics of sorting out harvest and transport thanks to the early rains.

Passing into the actual Pavilion’s main courtyard, he was, however, barely glanced at until he tried to walk into the administration hall.

“Stop, nobody is allowed through,” a guard declared blandly.

“…”

“I have authorisation,” he pointed out, pushing his umbrella back.

“Don’t matter, elders are meeting with the City Governor and some dignitaries, go get breakfast or something, Hunter.”

Giving the guard a long look, he shook his head and headed back to the main pavilion, noting as he did that there were quite a few non-Pavilion officials about.

“Ah, Shu!”

He stopped on the steps and turned to find a young woman in blue robes hurrying over to him.

“Kun Shenhua,” he bowed politely, to the dark-haired, pretty young woman who was effectively Kun Juni’s immediate junior within the Pavilion. “How can I help you?”

“I… need you to come help me manage some stuff!” Shenhua grimaced. “Young Lady Juni is not back yet and—”

“—I can hardly do the work of the Kun clan liason,” he pointed out.

“No, erm… that’s not it,” Shenhua scowled. “There are some official things that need sorted and they are just kicking everything around and singing about politics.”

“I was looking for Elder Ling,” he added.

“Excellent, you can kill two birds with one well cast spirit stone,” Shenhua said decisively, grabbing his arm. “Elder Ling is already there.”

“…”

“You think I am lying,” she pouted, when he didn’t move.

He stared at her, not sure he wanted to dignify that with a verbal response, because while he did get on with Shenhua, she was someone who was happy to twist matters for her own ends if required.

-On the other hand, he reflected, looking around. It’s still something to do and she isn’t likely to be lying outright about Old Ling…

“Okay, lead on,” he said, disentangling his arm from hers.

“I thought you were out injured anyway?” Shenhua said, looking at him sideways as they headed towards the inner court of the pavilion, away from the publicly accessible areas.

“I had to go run errands,” he shrugged.

“I would have stayed away from this madhouse,” Shenhua chuckled. “It’s crazy, so much privilege in one place… you know I saw an actual junior yesterday who was an associate official?”

“As in a silver ranked?” he queried, not quite believing that.

“Yes, some noble’s kid from the south, come up for the Patriarch’s competition,”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“The Golden Core one?” he asked, frowning. “My cousins are interested in that.”

“No, thankfully,” Shenhua sighed. “This is a bit different, there will be a proper tournament judged by someone from the Din clan in a few days. There was even a rumour going around that the Imperial Princess visiting Blue Water City might come to meet the Ha Patriarch as part of a tour of the province.”

“I rather doubt that somehow,” he muttered disbelievingly. “Do they know what an Imperial Princess is?”

“Probably not,” Shenhua conceded, “but three versions of that rumour have spun around already, just this morning, including one that says she has embraced Xingjuan as a sworn sister…”

“…”

“People need to lay off the spirit herb-infused alcohol,” he joked. “I assume you are referring to Kun Xinguan? Your clan’s Inheritance Daughter, Kun Juni’s cousin?”

“For that rumour, quite,” Shenhua agreed with an eye roll. “If that was the case our old elders would have ascended to a higher plane already.”

Shaking his head, he let her chatter on as they made their way through the courtyards, talking about various rumours of events in Blue Water City, which to tell of it, was either on the verge of imploding, or about to start flying the Imperial Flag and replace the Blue Duke with the Imperial Envoy.

“—You can’t…”

They were both stopped by a bored-looking guard wearing town colours.

“…”

Shenhua stared at him flatly, then just shook her head and pushed past.

“Hey, you can’t—” the guard complained.

“Shove off, mercenary, I work here,” she scowled. “Bark for your young master somewhere else.”

The guard’s face darkened then froze as Shenhua planted a palm on his chest and pushed him into the wall hard enough to make the wood panelling crack.

“You…” the guard gasped.

“Shove off Core boy,” she scowled, actually tossing the guard back down the steps to the hall they were about to enter with enough force that others nearby stopped to look.

“You can’t give them any leeway,” Shenhua sighed, waving for him to follow her. “They are like dogs, if you let them bark once, they bark every time.”

“I… don’t think that’s how guards work,” he pointed out.

“Nonsense,” Shenhua replied airily, turning left in the corridor and entering a room where half a dozen people were standing around, staring at a map with vexed expressions. Elder Ling was not among them, he noted with a degree of resignation.

“Ah, there you are,” an older man, Requisitions Elder Mengfan, exclaimed to Shenhua.

“And Hunter Shu?” a middle-aged woman, Official Hua, who worked in the missions department, added, spotting him as he slipped in after her.

“You actually found a ranked Hunter, excellent,” Mengfan sighed. “What kept you?”

“Some stupid guard outside,” Shenhua grunted.

“Oh yeah, they are here with that Associate Official Deng Jibei,” a clerk by the side of the room pouring tea said.

“They are a plague is what they are,” Official Hua grumbled. “I was told by one that I couldn’t go into the mission hall because some young lord was ‘seeing if anything stood out’.”

“No respect,” an old man, who he only barely recognised as one of the other more reclusive mission elders, one Ha Gong Qin, grumbled.

“He was from your clan,” Hua retorted.

“There are monkeys out there with better qualifications compared to some of the silk-pants swanning it around here at the moment,” Ha Gong sneered, sipping his wine.

“Um… so why do you need me?” he asked Shenhua.

“Oh… yes,” she frowned. “There is a request, problem, thingy. Juni was going to deal with it, but she is still not back yet, which is also making the clan elders complain at me, because she is supposed to be smiling as a pretty doll at the dinner for the Ha Patriarch tonight.”

“…”

“Dead bodies, twenty of them, from here,” Mengfan said, looking up “You are the only Recovery Hunter in the whole town right now that is properly accredited.”

“I… have to go recover twenty bodies?” he asked dully, not quite sure he had heard that right.

“No, thankfully, you have to go tell their families they got found,” Mengfan said, taking up a jade slip and passing it over to him. “Some of ‘em don’t have families I expect, or ones that don’t much care, but it’s the responsibility you hold.”

He took the slip and skimmed the names, not really recognising any until…

“Ha Fen Fang?”

‘...half the others are gone, including Miss Fen...’ the words of the girl on the bridge echoed in his head as he looked at the name on the list.

-Really, is this day cursed or something? he asked himself glumly.

“What about her?” Mengfan asked.

“She is a flower seller, on the Mother’s Bridge,” he replied absently.

“Was,” Gong Qin grunted. “She and nineteen others like her were found dead in a tetrid nest near Jade Willow. According to the village, apparently some gang offered them work up there then killed ‘em when they were no longer useful, or so it seems.”

“If you start now, you can probably get around all of those with next of kin by lunchtime,” Mengfan concluded. “When you are done return here, there will probably be something else.”

“…”

Shenhua gave him a complex look, which he pretended not to see. He was fairly sure, now, that she had been lined up for this job before happening to spot him, and had decided to drag him in. He could have complained, he supposed, but there was actually very little that would achieve beyond making him look petty, and she would deny it.

“I can come if you like?” Shenhua added with a faint grimace, probably guessing his thoughts somewhat as he continued to look at the details on the scrip, which were rather scant.

“You are needed here,” Elder Mengfan said absently.

“…”

“It’s fine,” he sighed, as Shenhua grimaced. “I’ll see to it.”

Mengfan nodded absently and waved for him to go.

The worst part was, he had to admit as he headed back out of the room, that he was the best person for it. The Han clan had a degree of social respect in West Flower Picking that the Ha and the Kun lacked for various reasons. Their roots were deep, even if they were, as was frequently thrown back at him by idiots, ‘common’ or ‘local’. That was, he suspected occasionally – particularly when requests like this always seemed to find him – why he had been able to rise to nine-star rank at all. It had little to do with him, just, rather like Jun Arai and Jun Sana, he happened to fit a type – talented enough, neutral and without complex political baggage, such that they could do the dirty jobs more promising scions of the bigger clans couldn’t or wouldn’t.

-And when we die, alone in a cave, like these poor souls, to some horrible monster, someone like me will go to my mother and spin her some stupid story that tries to make it seem like it was worthwhile… he reflected sourly, walking out onto the steps again to take in the oblivious hubbub of the courtyard and the two other guards helping their stunned compatriot.

Without comment, he smashed his fist into the stone wall.

Even that small bit of rebellion in regards to how the first day of the New Year was rapidly shaping up to be went entirely unnoticed by all those nearby.

“…”

He stared at his hand, which was still beset by its phantom ache, and flexed his fingers, trying to ignore the totally-not-there spiders that were peering out of the slight shadows of the door behind him.

The worst part, really, was that he wanted to curse, but actual words were entirely inadequate to express the unpleasant balance of annoyance, anger and frustration that had settled in him. He could, he supposed, feed it to his mantra… but he didn’t, mostly because it felt disrespectful to the dead.

Most only listed ‘streets’ and a district as known abodes and where next of kin were identified, it was mostly only by family names.

-Well, I can only start at the beginning, he decided. Ha Fen Fang it is.

With a further sigh, thinking of the young girl he had just met a short time ago, he set off, out of the Pavilion back towards the Yu Bridge, hoping that the flower seller had not found someone to play ‘daughter’ to.

…

“Miss Fen is dead…”

The three girls standing beneath the trees looked at him with vacant eyes that told him far too much about how they had ended up as flower sellers on a bridge dedicated to the Queen Mother of the West for his own peace of mind.

“I told them that stupid offer was too good to be true,” the girl who had spoken to him on the bridge, who was called Yuuna, muttered.

“Them?” he frowned.

“Nen Hong, Nen Shirong, Ha Fenfang, Ha Tenli, Kanra,” Yuuna said dully.

He stared at the list, finding all those names.

“Monkeyshit!” he snarled, his Martial Intent finally shifting, the shadows seeming to deepen in the rain for a moment. The shadowy spider eyes intensified for a moment, then faded away.

The three girls had all flinched back and a few passers-by—

“HEY!” a youth stalked over. “How disgraceful can you be! Intimidating these young women!”

He eyed the boy and drew upon his mantra to level off his mood at last.

“It is not what you think,” he said flatly.

“It… isn’t,” the youngest girl nodded.

The youth stared at them suspiciously, clearly not believing them.

“If he is forcing you—”

“…”

All three turned to stare at the youth with such profound disinterest that he almost reacted as if slapped.

Ignoring the youth, he passed the whole list to Yuuna.

“Do you know anyone else off that list?” he asked.

The three clustered around and stared at it for a moment then nodded.

“This name,” Yuuna said. “He came and spoke to Fenfang a few times. He was always around lots of girls.”

“Yeng Quan?” he frowned, looking at the entry, noting it was for ‘partial body’.

“…”

The youth was still standing there he realised, looking a bit less certain now.

“Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he said as politely as he could. “It really isn’t what you think.”

“…”

“It really isn’t,” Yuuna scowled. “Please stop bothering us.”

“…”

The youth stared dully at her, then him, then just folded his arms and stood there in silence, glaring at them.

“Any idea where he lived?” he asked Yuuna, ignoring the well-meaning idiot again.

“Uh… lived?” Yuuna frowned. “He isn’t dead.”

“Isn’t… dead?” he repeated. “His name is on this list…”

“Must be a mistake then, I saw him earlier today,” Yuuna said. “He was at the Jade Petaled Maiden, in the Red Blossom district.”

“…”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yuuna sniffed. “I help in the kitchens.”

“Okay, thanks,” he murmured, wondering what he could give them as payment for the information.

“If you…”

He was about to say he could introduce them to a steady job, in the area near the Han estates, but stopped because the youth was still scowling and he could absolutely see the headache that offer would cause.

“Look,” he said to the teenage cultivator, mustering as much patience as he could. “Nothing shady is going on here, please just—”

“Ah, Junior Brother Kun! Here you are,” two more cultivators, dressed in the same grey and blue robes, walked over, having clearly been looking for the youth.

-What have I done to deserve this, he sighed inwardly, taking out his Hunter Bureau rank talisman and holding it up for them to see.

“I am a disciple of the Hunter Bureau, just following up on a mission, fellow Daoists,” he said as politely as he could. “There has been a small mis—”

“…”

“Is that real?” the elder disciple muttered, looking at his talisman, then him, sceptically.

“Hah…” the second disciple sneered. “Is this miscreant causing you trouble, Junior Brother? I heard there were lots of fake talismans in this vile weather, but this is too much!”

“…”

Fighting the urge to hit something, he murmured. “Really, this is just a misunderstanding, I was merely looking for some people. There is nothing untoward here!”

The two stared at him, clearly trying to find some fault with what he had said.

“There is still the matter of this fake talisman. Clearly standards are as lax as it is told to be, if random people on the street can claim to be an official,” the elder-looking of the pair rumbled.

“Yes, we should take him to the guard,” his companion agreed. “I understand the Ha clan are righteous, so the—”

“Fine,” he said decisively, deciding to just head this off.

“Eh?” the elder disciple blinked.

“Let’s go to the guards, fellow Daoists,” he reiterated. “They will be able to sort this out.”

“…”

The three girls stared after him dully as he walked on up the pavement towards the guard post along from the Yu Bridge. The three cultivators stared at him blankly as well, then hurried after him.

It took only a few moments of brisk walking to get there, and fortunately nobody else was bothering them, so he saluted politely and asked.

“Could I bother you to verify my talisman?”

“Verify…?” the corporal leaning against the wall frowned. “Oh… you’re Han Murai’s nephew aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. Sorry for the bother,” he replied with an apologetic smile. “There has been a small misunderstanding. These cultivators don’t believe my rank talisman is real.”

The guards on duty looked at the three cultivators like they were absolute morons.

“Look…” the youngest muttered. “He used Martial Intent to intimidate these three girls and was asking for people they knew…”

“There are a lot of fake talismans about, this rain…” one of his seniors added.

“I have to go around and tell a bunch of people their relatives got killed by qi beasts,” he said flatly. “I was annoyed at how many names on the list happened to be flower sellers.”

“Flower sellers… dead by qi beasts?” the guard asked, his frown deepening. “You know anything about that, Yan?”

“Nope,” the older guard grunted.

-Oh please, just… what…? he groaned.

“Not here,” he clarified. “Up north. They came from here and now the Pavilion has me running around informing their next of kin.”

“Ah… bad business, that kind of thing,” the corporal muttered, before turning to the three cultivators and waving for them to go away. “Satisfied?”

“Erm…” the older one frowned.

“…”

“Yes,” the disciple who had initially accosted him muttered, giving him a weird look.

He watched the three traipse back off across the street again and sighed in relief, before glancing back at the three girls, who had also walked over to wait a few metres behind him.

“If you find anything else out, come ask for Han Shu at… the Han estate,” he said after a moment’s thought.

He nearly directed them to the Hunter Pavilion, but the way things were shaping up, they would probably not even get past the gate.

“Okay…” Yuuna murmured, bowing slightly.

“T-thank you for telling us,” the other two, who had never introduced themselves, added, still looking a bit haunted.

He watched as the three wandered off, back down the river boulevard, casting occasional looks backwards at him until they vanished into the rain and the people going about their daily business.

“Sounds unpleasant,” the younger guard said.

“It’s… just part of the rank,” he said, burying a sigh. “Sorry to have bothered you about something so… stupid.”

“It’s fine,” the corporal shrugged. “Probably out-of-town folks. Lots of folks looking to make a mark at the moment. Must be something in the water.”

“Yeah it is! It’s called this heaven-accursed rain!” the old guard grumbled.

They all had to chuckle at that observation, mostly because it was true. The rain and the echoes of the suppression it brought did tend to provoke others to chance their arm, or push in ways they would not were soul sense viable.

“It probably is,” he agreed, looking back across the street at the three cultivators, who were now talking to a woman at an open shopfront, pointing at talismans.

With a soft sigh, he memorized the style of their robes and their general appearance, in case they became a problem later, then turned back to the three guards and bowed politely.

“If you will excuse me,” he said.

“Of course,” the corporal nodded. “Give my best to your uncle.”

“I will,” he promised.

-Right, let’s get this fate-thrashed book, he sighed, putting the talisman back in his belt pouch and setting off back up the street again, towards the higher ground of the market district. That at least cannot be a total trial.

…

As it turned out, however, his futile hopes were disturbingly prophetic. Quibo’s Celestial Reading Hall was located close to the heart of the market district, just off the main square where thrice-weekly spirit herb markets were held, and it was… shut, several heavily-armed town guards keeping watch over the entrance.

“What happened?” he asked an old man deep-frying pastries at a nearby stall.

“Uggggh,” the old man grunted. “I want to say there was a riot or something, but actually some bunch of youths from the Ha clan caused a ruckus. The guard were called… and now Quibo’s is shut for the day.”

“A bunch of youths managed to get one of the main bookshops in the city closed?” he asked, not quite believing that.

“Well… not as such,” the vendor at the next stall, selling good fortune talismans, added drily. “What happened was that these youths took offence that the new volume of ‘One with the Spear’, chronicling the martial journey of young hero Cang Di—”

“I am familiar with it,” he interrupted drily.

“Yes, well, the new volume is out today… and these idiots apparently felt that it was ‘unpatriotic’ for Quibo’s shop to be listing a book about the Shu Pavilion’s eminent disciple ahead of the updated ‘authorized biography’ of Patriarch Ha Dongfei…”

“Riiiggght…” he drawled. “That sounds like someone playing stupid games for spirit stones.”

“That was also the conclusion of the guard after they broke up the mess,” the stall vendor agreed…

“So why is Quibo’s still shut?” he asked, because if it was just that, it would have opened again fairly quickly.

“Because someone stole all the copies of ‘One with the Spear’ while those youths were making a huge fuss… and most of the youths in question managed to escape with teleport talismans.”

“…”

“Welcome to the wet season,” he reflected drily.

“Indeed,” the pastry vendor grumbled. “Honest folk can only walk softly, especially with all these idiots in town for some tournament or other that is planned for the coming days. As to why they are now shut… Well it turns out that several influential people were interested in getting copies of that book and were deeply unimpressed.”

“Aye,” the talisman vendor agreed. “Old Quibo shut up shop when Blade Fairy Jing and the Deng heiress showed up.”

Listening to the explanation, he really didn’t know where to start, so instead he thanked them for the info and just wandered back into the market.

-Thank the fates I did actually go to the Pavilion first, he mused, looking at the stalls in case there was something off of Chang’s list.

Both Jing Sunhee and Deng Zhimei were… infamous locally as people who, by different measures, caused problems for others. Of the pair, Jing Sunhee was probably the more dangerous – a Martial Immortal within the younger generation who made sport out of messing with the town guards and who very few people were able to legitimately deal with. Deng Zhimei was no less talented, had the might of a local power behind her and status akin to Kun Juni or Kun Xingjuan… but pivotally was not an Immortal… yet, meaning she lost out slightly in the ‘walk the other way’ stakes.

*Booom!*

*Kraaaaaaa—*

He was shaken from his musing and half-hearted attempts to find the obscure herbs his parents wanted to give others as gifts – as was everyone else within the plaza – by the distant flicker of vibrant blue-green lightning striking down somewhere in the north of the town. In rapid succession, four… five then six bolts tore through the firmament, scattering strange shapes in the rain before calm returned.

“Someone advanced to Nascent Soul looks like…” a stall vendor nearby mused.

“Not bad talent either… Earthly Tribulation with six bolts…” another onlooker added. “Must have been waiting for the turn of the hour.”

“’Tis the day for it,” another shopper agreed as he started walking again.

“Dunno if its Nascent Soul, could just be Soul Foundation…”

“Six bolts for Soul Foundation? Where do you think we are, Blue Water City?”

The market plaza, as he roamed on through the stalls, was its usual eclectic mix of food sellers, small-time merchants and craftsmen from outside town, taking the opportunity to sell to a larger base of people, and the odd famous specialist with a stall. Today, the fare was rather slanted towards divinations, with lots of people selling paper money, special jade charms to honour the ancestors, various compasses, divination almanacs for the New Year and so on.

He walked for a few minutes, not quite sure what he was seeking, until he spotted the stall of Fulong Sengji, an herb seller and occasional mercenary Hunter a few years older than him with whom he had a passing acquaintance and who also had a good ear for local rumour and things that were going on in the less… reputable parts of the town.

“Hey, Sengji, how is trade?” he asked the dark-haired youth, who was sitting on a chair, reading a battered manual and smoking a pipe.

“Oh, hey Shu…” Sengji replied, putting the book down. “Like shit I must say, and I haven’t even had anything stolen by a monkey today.”

“Oh?” he frowned, looking at the various prepared herbs on the stall and noting that for Sengji’s usual fare they were indeed rather lacklustre.

“Yeah, this is it, don’t ask for more,” Sengji clarified despondently.

“How come?” he asked, looking at the other stalls nearby and noting there was also a dearth of anything over Golden Core grade, pretty much.

“The big brokers have all locked down their remaining stock,” Sengji grumbled. “Kun, Deng, Ha, Ji, Fan… there is nothing over Golden Core unless it’s common cultivated herbs for alchemy and such. It’s even affecting the spirit food folks… and before you ask, no, nobody knows why. ‘Auspicious year for the Ha’ indeed!”

“…”

“I am after anything on this list,” he sighed, passing the shopping list to Sengji, who skimmed it then grimaced.

“You won’t get shit like that here today, not unless you were here two days ago,” Sengji replied sourly. “I heard Old Huabao down the way sold a common dusty red ginseng to someone for a whole Spirit Jade earlier. It was only a quasi-Soul Foundation one as well. Prices are going nuts because of whatever the big influences have done. A lot of annoyed people about.”

“I see,” he replied, taking the jade slip back with a grimace of his own.

-What is it with today… I should have stayed in bed and ignored the nameless-spawned spiders!

“I guess if you had to, you could try Murmuring Lotus Emporium or Little Eclipse Warehouse,” Sengji suggested. “Although I guarantee you will pay a premium on them to make those ‘Ling-style’ herb pots all the young masters go mad for these days look positively affordable.”

“Yeah… maybe not,” he muttered, not fancying trying to get any of the things on the list Mei Chang had given him through one of the black market shops.

It already came to half a dozen Spirit Jade. If he had to go pay shadow-market prices on higher-quality Soul Foundation herbs, it would be spending Earthly Jade his family could ill afford.

“Aye, just saying,” Sengji agreed. “Anyway, not seen you about for a few days, how’s things been?”

“Clearance season being clearance season,” he replied, leaning against the edge of the stall and watching the market bustle by. “I had a mishap with a blood vetch, courtesy of the son of the Chief Elder in Green Veil Village.”

“Can’t have been that bad, you’re walking about and talking,” Sengji remarked with a grin.

“It was bad enough to get me out of a clearance mission early,” he replied with a weary sigh, noting the dozens of spider eyes peering out at him from under a stall across from Sengji’s. “Could have been worse, though…”

“Gotta count your blessings I suppose,” Sengji agreed, puffing on his pipe.

“Oh yeah… do you know anything about a Yeng Quan?” he asked, mostly on a whim.

“Yeng…” Sengji frowned. “Name sounds vaguely familiar, in what context?”

“Seems to be a personality in Red Blossom district; been offering flower sellers and other down and outs well-paid jobs out of town…” he added, by way of elaboration.

“Oh, that scam, you folks in the Bureau finally gonna deal with that eh…” Sengji chuckled rather nastily.

“That stuff is above my rank,” he pointed out.

“I know… but it’s been going around the poor quarters for months. Spirit stones for work, and enough come back to make it look convincing… except…”

“Except…?” he pushed.

“Except the ones who come back are the sort who don’t really need it,” Sengji frowned. “Definitely something gang-related. The local groups are edgy about it. Surprised you Han lot haven’t had some knowledge of this. You’re all concerned local citizens and such, lotta folks in the guard, running shops…”

“The Han clan is not gang…” he pointed out with an offended sniff.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sengji replied, affecting to look offended. “Just you folks got an ear that the Ha certainly lost somewhere up their own ass and the Deng never had to begin with.”

“…”

“I’ve been busy with requests that have kept me largely over near the Shadow Forest this last season,” he muttered. “I’ve barely been in the town more than once a week, and then only to hand in things or sell things. This seems to be up north in any case, not really my area.”

“Fair, I suppose,” Sengji conceded with a nod. “You want to be careful asking questions about that lot though. Especially in this weather.”

“Hint taken,” he murmured, grimacing faintly. “Got anything vaguely refreshing?”

“Here,” Sengji passed him a clay jar of alcohol from behind the counter that had a lotus root in it.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing Sengji a spirit stone.

“Oh yeah… you know people, don’t you?” he frowned.

“I am not in a gang,” Sengji grumbled, throwing his words back at him.

“Know any way I could get hold of the latest volume of ‘One with the Spear?” he asked.

“I did not take you for liking that kind of thing,” Sengji replied with an amused leer.

“I am not,” he grumbled. “My mother wants it and the bookshop has been robbed apparently.”

“Oh… is that what that was about,” Sengji frowned. “Can’t say I do to be honest, but I’ll ask a few fellows who have ladies who like heroes with big spears.”

“…”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Sengji sniffed. “You did ask!”

“I suppose I did,” he conceded.

“I’ll ask a few folks…” Sengji went on. “What do I do if I can get a hold of one?”

“Send someone to the Han estate and ask for Miss Chang,” he replied. “So long as they aren’t out to scam anyone, I am sure she will be happy to pay, given the current scarcity.”

“Will do,” Sengji agreed with a grin.

“—are you done chatting? Some of us actually want to shop…”

He turned to find an old woman standing, arms folded, behind him, looking put out.

“Ah… sorry,” he muttered.

“Catch you later, Sengji.”

“Sure,” Sengji replied with a half-smile.

Giving one further apologetic shrug to the old woman and the two others who were also standing around under umbrellas, he moved on, mulling over what to do next.

With the knowledge that almost a quarter were flower sellers, and with what Yuuna and now Sengji had told him, he rather suspected that this group had recruited those who would not be missed.

-No wonder Shenhua handed this off to me, he grumbled, again checking the list of streets and districts associated with the last known addresses of the few names who had them. Market, Red Blossom, Seng, Eastern Jing… this is just chasing ghosts into shadows.

“—Talisman for the New Year, Young Lord Ha?”

He glanced over at a youth wearing what might have passed for a taoist priest’s robe if you didn’t look too closely, holding a bunch of ‘good fortune’ talismans made from pieces of grey-stone pottery fished out of the river.

“Nope,” he replied absently, waving the youth away and making sure he didn’t brush by anyone as he did so.

-The last thing I need today is to be marked by some street gang looking to rob people, or pick-pocketed.

Shaking his head he walked on without a second glance, given the odds of the seller being at all legitimate were so small as to be laughable. The youth looked at him for a moment with a scowl and then just moved on, approaching a young woman queuing to buy spirit roots from a stall.

The middle of the plaza was taken up by a large stage, which was already showing what amounted to a collection of plays about famous ancestors in the Ha clan. The one currently being shown was about Ha Erlang Shan, according to the sign, and detailed his exploits in subduing a dark dragon beast that had brought tyranny and destruction to the Easten continent untold years prior. On the stage, the performers were currently saluting the ‘ancestor’ as he arrived at some destination and declared that he would solve some problem or other.

Walking around the stage, he listened to a few of the musicians playing, before finally spotting another stall that was familiar – that of Mrs Leng’s restaurant.

Mrs Leng, Leng Shuang to give her full name, was the owner of one of the premier spirit food restaurants in the town, if not the region more widely, though as an establishment and influence it was more notable to most because she provided food for rich and poor alike. Her market stalls were famous in that regard, for selling high quality food at a price that even a common labourer could afford. That also meant that it was packed and there was a not insubstantial queue, even at this early hour.

He was about to walk on by, determining to come back later, when it occurred to him that if there was anyone who might know something of those on the list he had, it was those who worked at her stalls, because they often went to the poorer districts and set up there as well.

Grimacing, he shoved his way through the crowd and eventually got to the counter, ignoring the curses and complaints, and ducked around the edge, looking for someone he might know.

“Ah, Miss Ning!” he called over to Ning Sora, a young woman who was a friend of, and about the same age as, Jun Arai and Sana, and who was sitting reading a book and watching a pot of soup bubble away.

“Oh… Han Shu!” she waved brightly back, setting aside the book. “What brings you here?”

“I was hoping you might be able to help me out, or know someone who can,” he said, stepping around a few crates of spirit vegetation ingredients and studiously ignoring the dark looks from those queuing at the counter.

“Eh, sure,” Ning Sora nodded, glancing at the soup and giving it a quick stir. “Want some?”

“…”

He was tempted to say no, but she probably wouldn’t have offered if there wasn’t spare and nobody else nearby objected, so he nodded.

“Anyway, what is it that a nine-star ranked Herb Hunter needs from us?” she asked with a grin, scooping out a bowl of the soup and passing it over to him.

“An unpleasant thing, really,” he replied, passing her the jade slip. “A bunch of bodies showed up in a tetrid nest up north, near Jade Willow Village. All of them came from here, from disadvantaged folk in the poorer districts of the city, and the details on them are really scant. Someone in the Bureau decided that my task for the day was telling their next of kin.”

“Eh?” Ning Sora frowned, staring at the list, then looking at him. “Jade Willow Village?”

“You know it?” he asked.

“Of course, my uncle manages an inn there,” Ning Sora replied. “The Jade Willow Blossom.”

“That’s… convenient,” he noted.

“I can ask about some of these if you like. A tetrid nest sounds horrible, certainly people up there will have heard about it,” she added, still looking down the list. “—Ah, Sera!”

“Yes?” an older woman chopping vegetables on the next table said, glancing over.

“You live on Sun Deng Street don’t you?” Ning Sora asked.

“I do, why?” Sera nodded.

“Recognise this person?” Ning Sora took the tablet over to her.

“Eh… that’s Old Hunpei’s grandson…” Sera frowned. “The boy has not been home in a few weeks, said he got some…”

The old woman looked over at him and sighed.

“He’s dead ain’t he,” Sera said softly, having put her knife down.

“I am afraid so, Ma’am,” he replied apologetically.

“Yunlee, Wensuu,” Sera called the two other older women working on various bits of preparation over. “Either of you know any of these names?”

“This girl’s a flower seller, and this one,” Yunlee, a middle-aged woman with a kindly face and slightly greying hair mused. “They are on the Mother’s bridge… or were, now that I think about it, they have not been about recently.”

He listened to them talk away, his mood growing gloomier, in spite of the tasty soup, as snippets of a dozen lives ruined were exchanged between the three older women.

“Not a good way to start the year,” Ning Sora murmured sympathetically.

“It is not,” he agreed, glancing at the book she had put aside.

“…”

“Is that the new volume of ‘One with the Spear’?” he asked dully.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t think you would like this kind of story,” she chuckled.

“How did you get it?” he asked. “I saw the shop was closed earlier because of trouble.”

“Oh, I got a copy earlier,” Ning Sora shrugged. “We have been here since… five hours before dawn… what with the people coming out of the teahouses and the late night ceremonies…”

“I don’t suppose you have more than one copy?” he added, hopefully.

“…”

“I do…” Ning Sora mused, looking at him sideways. “I got one as a New Year’s gift for my cousin in Jade Willow Village as it happens. She loves these stories… and this edition is signed, see?”

Ning Sora passed him the book. Flipping it open, he saw that the front cover page had been signed by the author and given a stamp that read ‘Shu – Cang’.

“Is that legit?” he asked suspiciously.

“Humph!” she retorted, giving him a mock scowl. “That is indeed Young Hero Cang’s official seal! It even says there, ‘Authorized by the Shu Pavilion’!”

Peering closely at it, he saw that was indeed the case.

-No wonder mother was determined to get a copy, he sighed. Her obsession is not healthy.

Once, a few years ago, his uncle Ryong had joked that his mother married his father because he was a martial cultivator called Cang, who wielded a spear. When his mother had learned of that, she had refused to speak to his uncle for a month and served him uncooked food at every meal. That she had not, however, denied it, was telling.

He had suspected that his and his siblings’ names were also related to his mother’s obsession with Cang Di, though never really dared to ask. Shu Jiang was a famous blade master, Shu Tian Bao had been the master of the Shu Pavilion before his nephew, Shu Tian, who was even more renowned, took over that lofty seat, and Shu Shu was the name of a famous spear master from the Huang-Mo Wars. A part of him felt it was somewhat sad that he knew more about the famous personages of that hegemonic power, thanks to his mother, than he did of many of the more local ones.

“I don’t suppose I could purchase one?” he asked.

“Off me? Nope!” Ning Sora said decisively. “However, my friend Wenhua over there got three, two to sell. I am sure she would part with one for… a Spirit Jade?”

“…”

“My horizons have been broadened…” he muttered dully.

“Each of these cost me ten spirit stones,” Ning Sora muttered. “And now that the rest are all stolen—”

“…”

She noticed his look and winced, as she realised her slightly leading deceit earlier had been caught out.

“Is nobody honest today?” he grumbled, not really meaning it.

“Wenhua!” Ning Sora called over to the dark-haired beauty a bit younger than him who had just finished serving a customer a platter of sliced raw fish at the counter. “Got a min?”

“Sure,” the young woman nodded, hurrying over.

“Han Shu here wants to buy one of your copies of ‘One with the Spear’—”

“Fifty spirit stones,” he said decisively. “My mother wants it.”

“Seventy-five,” Wenhua countered. “They are rare now, and it’s signed, a first edition!”

“Sixty,” he muttered, wincing.

“Seventy!” she retorted. “I could sell these for Spirit Jade you know, I am only going that low because you’re a friend of Arai and Sana!”

“…”

“Fine, seventy,” he sighed, pulling out a cube of interlocked spirit stones from his storage talisman and knocking off thirty to bring it to the appropriate amount.

Wenhua passed him the book from her own talisman, which he checked quickly then stored away as she took the stones with a happy smile.

“A pleasure, Hunter Shu,” she grinned. “I don’t suppose you want to come along for a meal with us later when we finish up here?”

“…”

He stared at her, not quite sure whether to be outraged at how shameless she was in trying to get money out of him, or flattered.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied drily. “Depends how——”

*Kraaaaaakooom*

A vast peal of thunder rolled across the town, followed by nine whitish-blue bolts of lightning spiralling down towards a distant location beyond the eastern edge of the town.

“That makes three already today,” Sera remarked from nearby, shaking her head.

“Aye,” Yunlee agreed. “You can go a month without seeing one and then three in a morning?”

Six deep green bolts of lightning punched down in rapid succession a moment later, scattering rainbows across the sky, which was darkening now.

“Must be Nascent Soul,” Sera mused. “Last one likely had a barrier for the first bolts.”

They watched as the last of the lightning faded away and the distortions in the eastern sky vanished. A few of those waiting for food cheered, but most people just shrugged and went back to what they were talking about.

“It is the day for it, people wanting to leverage the shifting tides of good fortune with the changing of the year,” Yunlee noted.

“Let’s hope we don’t get a failure this year,” Wenhua, who had gone back to serving people at the counter, added.

“Let’s hope,” Yunlee agreed. “Though that’s what the town formation is for… or so they tell us.”

“There was a failure last year?” he asked, wondering how he had managed to miss that.

Tribulations were… not common, but hardly a thing that drew more than passing comment. Only if it was inside the town itself would there be cause for complaint, usually, although even that was not that consistently enforced, as far as he knew. It was really only a problem when people failed, though that didn’t happen very often.

“Oh… not here,” Wenhua clarified. “It was down at Blue Cliff Town, two days after New Year’s. Three bolts of blue-green earthly lightning hit a teahouse and another sank a ship in the river. The idiot survived, though I suspect he was made to regret that by the time his family paid for the damages.”

“Aye, I saw that,” an old man at the counter who was savouring some roasted meat and wine interjected. “Was a bad business to all accounts. Was a Deng clan boy. Tried to use a compass to push through it, and found he had a subpar artefact. He survived, but a few folks caught by the stray bolts got nasty injuries.”

“Stupid,” Sera agreed. “Some just have no consideration for others, especially them Deng bunch.”

“Aye, did you see that girl Deng Qingling earlier? No decorum at all,” the old man grumbled. “Kids these days just have no respect for honest folk earning a livelihood.”

“Now, old Quibo, you have only yourself to blame there!” Yunlee scolded the old man, who he realised belatedly was the owner of the shut bookshop. “What possessed you to not invite someone with status to do the security? Fairy Jing is obsessed with that series.”

“…”

The old man sighed and just nodded, pushing his cup over, which Wenhua refilled without comment.

“I am sure the guard will track down the thieves,” Sera added.

“They better,” the old man grumbled, staring moodily at his cup of wine.

“Oh, Hunter Shu,” Sera said, turning to him. “Do you intend to go around as many of these as you can today?”

“As many of… oh, the names, yes,” he nodded, realising what she was talking about.

“Hmm…” Sera frowned.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Maybe…” Sera sighed. “I can’t say I know many of them beyond the family names, but the Jian, Erwei and Yunban families have no love lost for either the Bureau or the Ha clan.”

“And a Herb Hunter going and telling them their children are dead… without a body will not go down well,” he guessed.

“It will not, not on a day like today, where it would be seen as a very bad omen. Whoever handed you this mission handed you a hidden pile of shit,” Sera remarked.

-Really now…

“What do you suggest?” he asked, leaning against the edge of a table.

“Well, your good fortune was coming here and asking,” Sera mused. “Mrs Leng has some good connections in the Seng and Jing districts. A sympathetic ear, a few offerings of condolences, this can be dealt with much more tactfully by some of us.”

“And what do I need to do in return?” he asked, suspecting this was leading somewhere.

“Hah…” Yunlee, who had gone back to chopping spirit vegetation chuckled. “He has you there.”

“My nephew is going to try forming his Golden Core soon, get me a suitable spirit herb to ensure he gets a few extra rotations, and you can consider this list as having been tactfully dealt with over the next few days,” Sera said aplomb.

On the face of it… that was actually not a bad deal, he had to admit.

“What kind of core are we talking?” he asked.

“Life attunement, minor water,” Sera replied. “He wants to try to get into a local sect, bless him. His mother reckons he might get between eight and twelve rotations on his Core if he pushes himself. A good herb he can refine that would boost his foundation might push him up to fifteen…”

-Which is to say, solidly mid-grade, and more than enough to secure the interest of any of the minor local sects, he mused.

“A lot of that stuff seems to have been taken out of the market of late,” he pointed out. “Sengji was telling me earlier that all the big warehouses seem to be sitting on stock these last few days, and that a lot was sent to Blue Water City. Unless you mean I should go out and find him a Golden Core or Soul Foundation grade spirit herb to refine…”

“It’s a thought,” Sera added. “I know you are a good lad and all, but you should know how the sentiments among the less well-off neighbourhoods are as well as anyone. This isn’t the week to be bringing folks bad news, not when there are already so many young hot-heads running around.”

“It isn’t,” Yunlee agreed. “I also know a few of those names, and they have family who run with rough groups in the Red Blossom and Eastern districts. Day to day stuff, mercenary guards, that kind of thing.”

“And a few deciding that because this happened up in Jade Willow, the Ha clan might be involved...?”

“I’d say it’s very certain,” Sera sighed. “Ain’t that right Sora?”

“Eh…” Ning Sora, who had gone back to soup watching, frowned. “I guess, my uncle doesn’t talk much about politics, he runs an inn, not a rumour mill.”

“Well, Jade Willow is one of those… political villages,” Sera grunted. “My brother lived in Red Lake for a while, and used to say that anytime you needed an explanation for spirit fields fouling, it was someone in Jade Willow pulling a fast one.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said diplomatically. “If this is as complex as it appears, I’ll likely have to go back to the Bureau any—"

“OH HEY! SHU!”

He groaned, recognising the voice, even before he turned around to find that one of his distant cousins was pushing his way through the crowd, followed by Xiaobo and a few others.

“Bro Shu… I didn’t know you had a connection to this place!” his cousin Chen Bei said, drawing him as many ugly looks from those queuing up as it did for his cousins.

“I am working,” he replied blandly.

“Hey, pretty miss, can we get some wine?” Chen Bei added to Wenhua.

“There is a queue,” Sera said blandly, staring at them.

“We are here now, isn’t that fine?” Chen Bei said with a grin, looking at the two groups who he had displaced.

-This day… this monkey-cursed day, he groaned.

Chen Bei was… an older, distant cousin, closer to his brother Jiang in age and also cultivation, which was to say Chen Bei was at Severing Origins. He was also a disciple of a local sect down in Blue Cliff Town, on the river towards Blue Water City. As such, he was someone who had a reasonable degree of clout within the ‘juniors’ of the extended Han family… and was also not shy about using it.

The two groups, a family who were certainly nowhere near as ‘powerful’ as Chen Bei, and a pair of young women, both frowned but said nothing.

“Can you make an exception and serve them?” he muttered to Wenhua. “Chen Bei can be difficult.”

“…”

“It sets a bad example,” she grimaced. “I know you bought that book off me, but you know Mrs Leng’s rules.”

-Shit…

“Cousin Chen,” he said, coming over. “Please don’t make a scene here, this isn’t Blue Cliff Town…”

“I am aware,” Chen Bei said blandly. “More so than you, I think.”

“Look—”

“Or what?” Chen Bei grinned, leaning in. “It will make you look bad in front of these beauties?”

-Why are you even doing this? he groaned.

“…”

Wordlessly, he stared at the group, then shook his head and turned back to Sera.

“I will see how it goes, if I run into difficulties I will come and seek you out, okay?”

“Mmm, okay,” she nodded, glancing at the group who were frowning at him now.

“In that case, thank you for the help,” he murmured, offering them a polite salute and decisively turning and heading out the far side of the area around where the food stalls were set up.

“Hey!”

Ignoring the call from behind, he set off into the crowd, heading back towards Senji in the first instance to tell him that he didn’t need to find some shady source for a dog-blood martial art novella.

“Hey… hey!”

He groaned again as Chen Bei and the others caught up a few moments later, using their superior cultivation mostly to push a few people out of the way.

“Bro Shu, are you trying to be inhospitable?” Chen Bei grinned. “Here I thought your family were like, really up on this celebration.”

“Cousin Chen, what is your problem?” he asked, continuing to walk back towards Sengji’s stall. “I am on a request for the Bureau, isn’t it you who is making things difficult for me?”

“Hah… don’t be silly, a request, on a day like today?” one of Chen Bei’s friends smirked. “Come up with a better excuse, Bro Shu.”

-Who is your bro, you aren’t even a relative, he complained, glancing at the youth from the same sect as Chen Bei.

“You were also meant to train with me this morning,” Xiaobo added.

“That was just something my brothers decided arbitrarily,” he replied. “In any case, should you even be out here?”

“Should I?” Xiaobo frowned.

“Yes, you were targeted by a monkey this morning, you and Xiaoxiao,” he retorted. “What if you get attacked again?”

“…”

The others in the group stared at him, then just started to laugh, as if he had said something utterly hilarious.

“A monkey? Little Xiao, what is this?” Chen Bei asked, turning his attention to Xiaobo, who looked annoyed now.

“I dunno,” Xiaobo sniffed, shooting him a sour look. “Just something cousin Shu said.”

-Have this lot not gone back to the estate yet? he wondered, shaking his head. I suppose Xiaobo would try to cover it up… and now I told them. Shit… this day…

Scowling, he quickened his pace, weaving back through the stalls, actually stealing a bit of distance on the idiots and finally spotting Sengji.

“Hey, Sengji!” he called over.

“You’re back already?!” Sengji remarked with a chuckle. “Need something else?”

“Eh… no, actually, I had a stroke of good fortune regarding that book.”

“Oh, I see,” Sengji nodded. “Thanks for letting me know!”

“No problem,” he replied.

“Who are the idiots?” Sengji asked, nodding behind him to the group who were heading after him again.

“Distant cousins, from Blue Cliff Town,” he grunted. “They seem determined to be a nuisance for some reason, and I have no idea why.”

“Is that Chen Bei?” Sengji frowned suddenly.

“You know him?” he asked.

“Know him?” Sengji grumbled. “He owes me money.”

“He does?” he blinked. “You are not just saying that?”

“No, he actually does,” Sengji muttered. “From a year or two back. He is a bigshot disciple in that Prosperous Cliff Pagoda, isn’t he?”

“Bigshot is probably overstating it,” he said, ducking behind a convenient umbrella as the group passed by looking around for him. “How much does he owe you… and how?”

“Gambling, and about three Spirit Jades,” Sengji grimaced. “It was at a party your brother Bao hosted if I recall right.”

“…”

“Can we trade umbrellas?” he asked.

“Hah… you really are a townie!” Sengji grinned, pulling out an umbrella from his storage ring and passing it to him.

He passed his old one back to Sengji, it would be easy to collect it later anyway, and, nodding in thanks, set off at a tangent to Chen Bei’s group.

In the end, after looking around the market for a bit longer, he headed back down to the river and crossed back to the Blue River District. It took him almost thirty minutes to get back to the Han estates, firstly to drop off the book for his mother, and secondly because two of the ‘addresses’ for families Sera and Yunlee had noted on the slip for him were also in the Blue River District.

Fortunately, he completely avoided any further run-ins with his cousins, and was able to give the book to Mei Chang and recoup his seventy spirit stones with only a modicum of grumbling. It helped that word had gone around already about what occurred at Quibo’s Reading Hall.

He also explained to Mei Chang about the apparent issues with supply of various desirable herbs and such that were plaguing the town, and she agreed to go back to his parents and see if they couldn’t come up with a more… reasonable list, which he would check back later about.

By the time he set off to speak to the first of the families on the list, it was pushing for mid-morning, even though it didn’t really feel like it. That was the issue with the wet season rains, they led to a sort of blurring of the passage of time after a while. He was fairly sure if someone had stopped him on the street and said it was already early afternoon, he would have been tempted to believe them.

The Blue River District was, in any case, much quieter compared to the north side of the river. In another year there might have been some gatherings in the plazas or small green spaces, but the rain was clearly keeping everyone at home, so mostly the only folks out and about were those visiting shrines, or heading across the river.

His first destination turned out to be a quiet street about a stone’s throw from the Green Fang Pagoda, the small sect that had been associated with the district almost since the founding of the town. After asking for directions from a few people on the way, he finally arrived at a four story house with a courtyard and made his way inside.

“How can I help you?”

He was stopped almost immediately by a serving girl, who had been standing around at the doorway into the courtyard.

“I am here to speak to the master… or mistress of the household, on behalf of the Hunter Bureau,” he said, after a moment’s pause.

“Eh… I’ll go see if anyone is available,” the girl murmured, giving him a slight bow and scampering off.

Standing in the shelter of the archway into the courtyard, he sighed and looked around at the house. This was hardly the first time he had had to go give families unfortunate news about loved ones perishing in Yin Eclipse, but it never got any easier. What bothered him most, about the whole mess he was landed with, was that he had no body to return to them. The tablet just noted that the ‘Bureau’ was investigating circumstances and that they would be returned as soon as was convenient, once that investigation had ended.

“How can we help you?”

He was shaken from pondering the headache Shenhua had given him by the appearance of a youth a bit older than him.

“You are… the master of the house?” he asked trying not to sound too sceptical.

“That would be my father,” the youth said. “I am Lee Chen Fei, his son.”

“If it was possible, I would like to speak to your parents,” he said, with a faint grimace. “This is… a rather difficult matter.”

“I am sure I can relay it clearly,” Chen Fei said with a frown.

“…”

“Fine,” he sighed, “Your younger sister is Lee Chen Xing?”

“She is…” Chen Fei frowned. “Why, has she gotten into some trouble with the Bureau?”

“No… I am sorry,” he grimaced. “There is no easy way for me to say this, but remains believed to belong to your sister were recovered near Jade Willow Village a few days ago.”

“…”

Lee Chen Fei stared at him dully.

“R-remains?” he repeated after a long pause.

“The Ha clan near Jade Willow Village provided identification,” he added, which was not said outright in the slip, but his chat earlier with Mrs Leng’s stall minders had cleared up a few things there.

“You… have her body?” Lee Chen Fei asked, looking a bit pale now.

“No… that is still in Jade Willow Village apparently,” he said, feeling bad, even as he said it. “I appreciate that this is irregular, but—”

“I… see. I will tell my parents… thank you,” Lee Chen Fei replied rather distantly, cutting him off.

“Sorry,” he said. “It is not the day for this kind of news.”

“No… it is not,” Lee Chen Fei replied a bit more coolly.

“Who is it?” Lee Chen Fei turned as a pretty older woman with dark hair, wearing a formal gown, had come out of the courtyard.

“Uh… an official from the Bureau, Mother,” Lee Chen Fei replied, looking awkward.

“Why have you not invited him in!” the woman exclaimed.

“…”

He sighed sadly to himself and buried his own unhappiness at the task with his mantra and bowed politely.

“I fear that would not be appropriate,” he murmured.

“It is about Xing, Mother,” Chen Fei said dully. “She… she…”

“What about Xing?” the woman frowned, looking from one to the other.

“I am sorry, Madam Lee,” he replied. “I have to inform you that your daughter’s remains were recovered from within Yin—”

“My Xing is…” the woman stared at him blankly.

“They don’t have a body,” Chen Fei muttered. “It might be a mistake.”

“Don’t have a…” the woman stared at her son, then at him.

“What happened to her?” Madam Lee said softly.

“I… she took work near Jade Willow Village…”

It took a few moments to explain to them the gist of events, as he understood them at least. Chen Fei just looked haunted, while his mother simply stood there, nodding occasionally, her expression fixed.

“As your son says, there is a possibility,” he added, not believing it. “But there were twenty bodies recovered, all from West Flower Picking Town, all recruited for the same kind of job.”

“And they are all… dead,” Madam Lee said at last.

“They are,” he confirmed.

“She… was going to join the Green Fang Sect this year,” Madam Lee said softly. “We… didn’t have a lot of money, so she said she would take a few missions for the Hunter Bureau…”

“She—” he was about to say that she had not, as far as he knew, taken any jobs from the Hunter Bureau, but Madam Lee just shook her head.

“Thank you, you may go,” was all she said.

“…”

“I am sorry,” he said softly, bowing to them both.

Neither replied, so all he could do was leave as instructed. Behind him, Chen Fei took his mother’s hand and led her back into the house in silence.

He walked off down the street shrouded in silence of his own, the rain pattering down doing a disturbingly good impression of reflecting his own bitter mood.

The second address, for the Fuhan family, was not that far away from the Lee family household, as it turned out. A mere matter of several streets distant. Arriving at their front gate, he rang the bell and waited respectfully until a boy of about fourteen came and opened it.

“We don’t want what you’re selling—”

“I am not here to sell anything!” he said quickly, before the boy could shut the door again in his face. “I… need to speak to the master or mistress of the house.”

“What about?” the boy asked, frowning.

“Who is it?” an older male voice called.

“Some youth, says he wants to see dad!” the boy called.

“Who!” the older voice called.

“I am with the Hunter Bureau,” he said, holding up his talisman for the boy to see.

“Says he is with the Hunter Bureau,” the boy related.

“Fine, show him in,” the other voice replied.

The boy eyed him sceptically, then nodded, pushing the door all the way open. He followed the boy inside and was met by a young man in grey robes a bit older than him.

“Ah… you’re that Shu, from the Han estate,” the youth said, not introducing himself.

“I am,” he nodded.

“What you want with our father?”

“It should probably wait until I see him,” he said diplomatically, looking around.

He was led through into a courtyard with a nice winter plum tree in the middle, and into a hall where an older man was sitting at the far end talking to several other men, all about the same age as his uncles.

“Tenfei sees father,” the young boy said, saluting the austere old man.

“Tenbei sees father,” the youth his age added, also saluting.

“Han Shu, from the Hunter Bureau, Master Fuhan,” he said respectfully, holding up his talisman as he saluted.

“Ah, Cangfei’s grandson,” Master Fuhan nodded. “What brings you to my door today?”

“Erm… could we speak privately?” he asked.

The old man eyed him for a moment, then nodded, standing up and gesturing for him to follow.

He went after Master Fuhan, into the smaller courtyard, finally stopping by an ornamental pond.

“It is about Tenhui, isn’t it,” Master Fuhan said, staring into the pond.

“It is, Master Fuhan,” he replied.

“How did he die?” the old man asked.

“…”

“You are a Recovery Hunter, and you are being very circumspect,” Master Fuhan said. “That means either my son has offended the Bureau, or you found his body. I do not think he had the means to offend you, so that means it is the latter.”

“His remains were found in a tetrid stalker nest near Jade Willow Village,” he answered respectfully.

“You have not brought them back either,” Master Fuhan noted, a faint edge finally creeping into his voice.

“They are still in Jade Willow Village, the Ha clan is investigating, along with the Pavilion.”

“I see… thank you,” Master Fuhan nodded, staring at the water.

“…”

“You can go,” Master Fuhan added.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he murmured, bowing deeply.

Master Fuhan just nodded, but said nothing further.

He bowed again and then went back through to the previous courtyard.

The others looked at him, but nobody said anything, so he just bowed to them politely then took his leave.

Back out on the street, he stood and stared up at the grey clouds, letting the humid rain fall around him. Thunder rumbled and another series of lightning bolts flashed down, again just beyond the eastern edge of the town, though this time it was just white-purple spiritual grade tribulation lightning.

Absently, he found himself holding up a hand to the sky as the last bolt fell, his palm blotting out the afterimage of the bolt for a few moments before it vanished.

“Heaven and Earth in a moment…”

There was something oddly dispiriting about it. Here he was walking around, telling people that their children… sons, daughters had been devoured by the cruelty of the world and those in it… while outside town, various scions and young lords were preparing for their tribulations, stepping ever closer to the ‘heavens’ with all the advantages their clans could give them.

“It is not hard to see why so many like reading Seng Mo,” he muttered to the largely deserted street, as he started to head off towards the Seng District – not named for that scholar, famous for his critical opinions of worldly powers, but rather one of the founders of the town itself, Seng Fuanshan, a local disciple of the Blue Water Sage – and the next name on the ‘list’.

Crossing over the main street, which ran from the south gate of the town up to the river and Yu Han Square, he found that the streets of the Seng District were notably busier than those in Blue River. Mostly, it was because the narrower streets and taller buildings, a reflection of the scarcity of real estate in this part of the town, kept the rain at bay. However, on a day like today, this was multiplied out by the district having its own markets, and the populace being much less inclined towards the imperial rituals associated with New Year.

Walking along, he noted quite a few places where the ubiquitous ‘posters’ for the yearly divinations for the town had already been torn down, defaced, or covered over with different ones. Guards also patrolled more openly here, where they had been rather minimal north of the river, again a reflection of how the town’s governance viewed this quarter of the town.

Thunder rumbled again, followed by several slashes of spiritual lightning, making him glance up to the east again. That had come from inside the city, from the Deng District, nearer the river on the south side.

A few others in the street, perusing wares, also glanced up in that direction, shaking their heads. A shopkeeper spat on the ground and a boy made a monkey gesture at the last fading lightning. It was fair to say that the Deng clan was not popular here: their district had carved out a decent portion of the most desirable real-estate from both the Seng and Yeng districts on the eastern side of the town – done by imperial writ some 150 years prior, in the aftermath of the ‘Year of the Blood Eclipse’.

“Hey, I am looking for Seng Ben Street,” he said, taking advantage of the distraction the tribulation had caused to stop at the shopfront of a talisman vendor.

“Seng Ben?” the young woman frowned, leaning on the counter. “About a hundred metres on, take the left, then the second right… anyone in particular you are looking for?”

“Thanks,” he nodded. “Um… the Xuafan family?”

“Half-way along the street,” the young woman added. “You won’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, giving her a polite bow and continuing on his way.

Much as she had said, the Xuafan family’s building was hard to miss, mostly because it had their name on the ground floor, espousing that it was the ‘Xuafan Association’.

-Great, this is a gang, he sighed, staring up at the sign for a moment.

“What you want, lordling?” a youth carrying a spirit wood stick and smoking a pipe in the shelter of an awning asked as he stopped outside.

“I am looking for Master Xuafan?” he said respectfully.

“Not here,” the youth shrugged.

“Then… anyone related to Xuafan Xongbei?” he tried.

“Eh, that runt, why?” the youth asked.

“…”

“Does he have any parents?” he asked, a slightly sinking feeling in his stomach. “Brothers, sisters?”

“She has three sisters, all work in the White Fairy over in Red Blossom,” the youth grinned. “The eldest is very pretty.”

He stared at the youth, then sighed and nodded.

“Thank you for your time,” he said, bowing slightly and heading off.

“If you need, I can introduce you!” the youth called after. “She is worth your money!”

Shaking his head, he didn’t pick up his pace and just waved a hand non-committally back at the youth.

That pattern turned out to be rather common as he continued on down the list of dead.

For one, the family, who had nine children, barely seemed to care that their son was dead, simply thanking him for telling them, and showing him the door in a matter of moments. The other was sorry, but told him the boy was adopted and became more interested in whether or not the Bureau was paying compensation for his death and would cover the funeral rites. At the third address, the one who had died turned out to be the father of three young children, who had taken an escort job to Jade Willow Village. His widowed wife broke down into tears and then threw a stone bowl at him, calling him a villain and cursing him, the Ha clan and the Bureau by turns as he made his apologies and departed.

Standing in the street, watching the people go by, he could see why Sera had offered to do as she had, and felt both stupid and foolish now, for deciding to just shoulder the responsibility on his own.

The last on the list was ‘Old Hunpei’, who Sera had commented on. He was almost tempted to go back and agree to her terms, but at the last moment, decided that that was not who he was. He had known none of them personally, beyond some vague recollection of the flower sellers, but each one deserved to at least have their sorry fate relayed by an appropriate official.

“Do you know where I can find Old Hunpei?” he asked a street vendor selling fried fish. “On Moonless Heart Street?”

“Oh, that old geezer, what do you want with him?” the girl grunted, looking him over as she poked at the smoking fish on her grill. “Unless… you’re that official going around telling folks their kids are dead?”

“…”

-Shit, news travels fast, he groaned.

“You are,” she nodded when he said nothing. “Got the look, sanctimonious Bureau type.”

“…”

“I come from this side of the river,” he pointed out a bit sourly.

“And?” the girl shrugged, “You work for them’uns, got no pride?”

“Thank you for your time,” he muttered, bowing politely to her and moving on quickly.

She looked after him with a faint scowl, then shook her head and turned back to waving at passers-by.

That kind of view was fairly typical, it had to be said, and a reason why he avoided Seng District especially, unless it couldn’t be helped. West Flower Picking Town was prosperous and drew substantial wealth from the spirit herb-based agriculture of the region and villages around it, but that wealth didn’t really end up with the local folk. The Yin Peoples got the worst of both worlds really: Easten families could at least point to Xah Liji City and the lands out east, forcing a modicum of begrudging acknowledgement from the Imperial settlers, mostly because they too were ‘settlers’.

The local clans and families, of which his own Han were one, were the group stuck below both. In Blue River and Jing districts they mostly got by, but here in Seng and Yeng the sentiment against the higher orders ebbed and flowed with the years, and right now it was probably fair to say it was ebbing somewhat towards discontented.

“I’m looking for Old Hunpei,” he asked another street vendor selling stuffed fish at the other end of the short concourse he had cut down.

“Lun’s Teahouse, two over probably,” the old man shrugged, looking him over sceptically.

“Thanks,” he said, passing the old man an iron talisman and taking one of the fish.

“Good year to you,” the old man nodded, quickly taking the money and bowing to him slightly.

“Yeah… and to you,” he replied, heading off again.

Rather than go directly there, he cut down an alley and then headed off the opposite direction until he was basically alone in a small side street. Looking around, he swapped out his robe for a much more nondescript one, such as he would wear out and about generally, and swapped out his umbrella for a rough travelling cloak and broad brimmed hat.

-I should have done this before now, he reflected glumly to himself, staring at his reflection in a handy puddle.

Off in the distance beyond the city walls another thunder cloud rumbled, followed by a crack of bright blue lightning that truncated—

He ducked instinctively as a lazy arc of blue lightning seared across the sky above, scattering petal-like sparks as the town’s formations triggered to block the worst of it. A second stray bolt sizzled down a moment later, scattered a dozen spiritual lightning bolts into the town walls by the southern side of the Yeng District about a mile away to his left.

“Well, that was overdue,” he sighed, straightening up, wondering who had failed a tribulation.

Walking on down the street, he doubled back and walked off, back to the street where he had been, using his mantra to suppress his presence.

“—You said you saw a Bureau official here?”

He grimaced, pulling down his hat slightly, and walked on past the young woman selling roasted fish who was now talking to two other youths dressed like street toughs.

“Aye, he was definitely one of them’uns, been walking around all morning telling folks their kids’re dead by some Ha clan misdemeanour,” the girl was saying.

“…”

“Was looking for Old Hunpei,” the girl added. “You was asking after why his grandkid had not come back, so I figured you might be interested.”

“Here, a talisman for your trouble,” the second youth grinned, patting the girl on the cheek and dropping an iron talisman onto the grill of her stall.

The girl swatted the hand away and the pair walked off, laughing.

-Great, are none of these easy? he complained to himself.

Shaking his head, he walked on, finally arriving not at the teahouse, but at Moonless Heart Street, a narrow, cramped alley seemingly given its name by the fact that it had a brothel operating at one end.

Old Hunpei’s house turned out to be the second floor of a rather ramshackle building half-way along. Making his way up to it, he banged on the door, and after a few moments it was opened by a beautiful young woman wearing a rather scandalous robe, who was clearly drunk.

“What you want?” she asked, with an enticing smile.

“You are some relation of Hunpei… Baofan?” he asked.

“He’s my… I guess he’s an okay boy,” the woman mused. “Why?”

“…”

His silence must have said enough, because she stepped aside and waved for him to come in, her drunken mood evaporating like summer mist. In that moment, he got a faint hint of pressure off her that resonated with his own mantra.

-She is a physical cultivator? he realised, somewhat surprised. And stronger than me as well. Is she actually at Mantra Seed?

“I guess you’re not here to have fun, why don’t you come in and talk about it,” she said, her tone still a bit breathy but with a subtle flatness to it now.

He nodded, glancing around and seeing nothing particularly untowards, and followed her into the main area of the house, which was an open living room in a vaguely traditional local style that had seen far better days. The dominant decoration was a shrine to the ancestors on one wall, and a sword that had been broken, which was sitting on it.

“Old Hunpei was in the Military Bureau?” he asked.

“He was, as were his sons,” the woman sniffed, going and grabbing some tea for them both from a table by the wall. “Both died in the Three Schools Conflict.”

“I see,” he sighed, looking at the portrait scrolls hung above the shrine – none would be considered a work of art, but each held a spark of… warmth and care and a lingering sense of loss.

The only other thing there that caught his eye was a small earthenware Buddha, seated below the scrolls, behind the bowl with its burning incense sticks. It had six arms, four holding up hands that created four different ‘sign’ symbols – ‘Power’, ‘Change’, ‘Nature’ and ‘Morality’ – while the last pair created ‘Man’ at its dantian. The symbol on the forehead read ‘Seng’, or ‘Truth’ depending on how classical your knowledge was.

-A Seng Buddha Statue… the Seng School?

“—I am Baofan’s… aunt, I suppose,” the woman sighed, passing him a cup of tea as he quickly turned his attention back to her. “Hunpei Lian.”

“I see,” he said, accepting the cup and sitting after she did. “In that case—”

“—You are here to tell me that he is dead,” Lian said softly.

“I am sorry,” he nodded.

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I will tell the old man… he will be sad for a day or two, but then he won’t remember anyway.”

“He… is injured?” he asked.

“Suffered a deviation, as a result of the Red Plague, 150 years ago,” Lian grimaced. “He got better, but it returned after his sons died and he took to drink. I earn what I can, as did Baofan, but it is not easy, despite us both being… physical cultivators.”

“…”

She stared at him, then sighed.

“You wonder why he wasn’t looked after by the Military Bureau?”

“Somewhat, yes,” he conceded.

“His wife… my mother-in-law’s family was implicated in the purges when they put down the aftermath of the Blood Eclipse Cult. It is not an uncommon story in this district.”

-Ah, that explains the statue, he mused.

The local adherents of the Seng School of Buddhism had been among those most heavily persecuted in the aftermath. Their temple-monastery in the province, Sengyin Peak, had been abandoned and the Deng clan had even lobbied for the Seng District – whose name had no historic association with the Seng School – to be renamed at the time, or so he had been told. The proposal had failed only because it was overruled by the Headmaster of the Blue Gate School and the Provincial Governor Ling Yusheng, and the ill will there still remained well over a century later.

“I went to Mrs Leng’s food stall to ask about things first,” he sighed, understanding now why Sera had warned him off this. “Madam Sera suggested I let them do this…”

“She was probably right,” Lian mused. “But you decided to do it anyway?”

“It is the right thing to do,” he answered. “I am a Recovery Hunter, and probably someday someone will come to my mother and also have this conversation. If I am lucky, it will be a friend, but perhaps it will not be. I… go into those valleys and the Shadow Forest every week, risking my life. I know better than most I think, about the wonder, the majesty and the cruelty of those places…”

“How did Baofan die?” she asked, putting her tea down.

“I… don’t know,” he replied honestly. “All I know is that he was recovered from a tetrid stalker nest and the Ha clan claimed that he was working for a gang, who dumped the bodies there, inside the suppression zone.”

“I… see…” Lian said with a soft sigh, staring into nothing.

“Was Baofan in some kind of difficulty?” he asked.

“…”

“He didn’t like the local gang, he wanted to be a martial cultivator when he was younger, and his talent was good,” Lian sighed. “But his mother abandoned him after her husband died, and he ended up with his grandfather and me, who looks after him.”

“You are Hunpei’s daughter,” he asked.

“I am,” she nodded. “Only daughter. He never had the money for me to marry, so I look after folk in the neighbourhood… and do what else I can to make ends meet.”

She didn’t have to say any more than that, given what the neighbourhood was like. As a physical cultivator, that kind of thing was easier for her as well, or so he had learned from offhand conversations between his siblings over the years. The whole conversation was a reminder that life outside of the clans and estates was… very different.

“Anyway, Baofan got in some trouble, thanks to my father’s debts. To get us out of them he wanted to join a sect, the Misty Blade Pavilion, over towards the Shadow Forest, but they require an entrance gift of a Spirit Jade, which he didn’t have, so he took this job up north,” she said. “Apparently it was related to the Bureau in some way, although I always doubted that.”

“I doubt it,” he agreed, feeling even worse now.

“He said some associate official actually gave them instructions in the one letter he sent,” she mused. “But I’ve seen associate officials and I rather doubt a legitimate one was running with such a low-key organisation. I told him as much, but he never wrote back.”

“Those badges are expensive,” he nodded. “The only juniors who might have them are rich children of influential clans whose parents really want to get all the benefits and none of the responsibility of being associated with the Hunter Pavilions.”

“I know,” she murmured. “Probably those who were there stole it or something. In any case, I doubt the Bureau is going to offer any remuneration.”

He could only shake his head there. It was a sorry tragedy, just like every other family he had spoken to that morning.

Taking a final sip of his tea, he stood and bowed politely.

Lian nodded back and watched him depart. Closing the door behind him, he was suddenly struck by how… familiar her flat mood had appeared.

-She was hiding her emotions with her mantra?

“Hey…” she called after him, pushing the door back open suddenly.

“Ah?” he blinked.

Without comment she held out her hand.

“…”

“Stuff ain’t free,” she murmured drily.

Wordlessly he pulled out a spirit stone and passed it to her.

She took it and leant in, giving him a faint kiss on the cheek and whispering “People notice stuff around here.”

Withdrawing, she smiled cutely and patted his cheek before adding, “Come again.”

He watched her go back inside and close the door, noting as he did that one of the other doors across the hall was slightly open. Thinking back, he didn’t recall it being open when he arrived.

Shaking his head, he went back downstairs and out onto the street, glad that the horrible weather was still suppressing soul sense.

Standing back on the street he stared up at the sky, visible as a grey slit between the roofs some five stories up, between a tangle of lines and lanterns, several of which were lit given the foggy gloom, and sighed deeply.

Pulling out the wine that Sengji had given him, he considered it for a moment, then took a deep drink, grimacing as icy qi slid into his body, making his limbs tingle.

“Huaaaaa…”

Taking a second, less generous gulp, he savoured it a bit before checking what the actual root his friend had used was, which turned out to be a misty heart lotus – so named because its mild yin poison befuddled the mental state and cooled your thoughts, as if you were submerged in fog.

He exhaled, giving himself a shake, and set off down the street, forcing his mantra not to act on the mild yin poison in the spirit alcohol. If a mortal, or probably even a Qi Condensation spiritual cultivator, were to drink it, they would have a very bad day, but with a physical cultivator’s constitution it was just enough to take the edge off his current circumstances.

Exiting onto the main street, skirting his way around a group of youths who were arguing with a bulky man at the door of the brothel, he turned his mind back to the list of names. All the others came from north of the river, either in the Eastern Jing District, in the north-east of the town or the Red Blossom District, back over the other side, between the markets and the town harbour in Blue Gate District.

Taking a third sip of the wine, he weighed up how he felt about up to a dozen more conversations like the ones he had just had, and decided that he didn’t care quite that much about Pavilion Elder Mengfan’s instruction to be back by lunch, which it almost was in any case. There was no question of not doing them, but the idea of having to use his mantra to push through talking to bereaved relatives left him feeling colder than the wine inside.

-I guess I can go look for some of the New Year’s gifts for family members, he mused, pausing by the open storefront of a herb broker. That might provide a change of pace.

He considered what was on sale, which was actually not bad in terms of its overall quality and then nearly facepalmed.

-What an idiot I am, he reflected wryly. If all the big herb brokers are stuck for goods, these small ones over here will not have been hit up, because everyone has a hole in the head when it comes to buying herbs.

“Hey, do you have any peaceful prosperity ginseng?” he asked the youth leaning on the window counter.

“Eh…” the youth stared at him dully, making him wonder if he even knew what that herb was.

“What about joyous heart snapdragon?”

“That… I think we have one,” the youth replied after some hesitation.

“Well, can I see it?” he asked.

“I’ll ‘ave to go ask the boss,” the youth grimaced.

“…”

He stared at the youth for a long moment, until he nodded and retreated from the counter, heading inside to seek out a higher, probably more knowledgeable, authority.

In the end, he was only waiting in the rain for a few minutes before the youth returned, accompanied by an older, clean-shaven man with what looked like a burn scar on his face.

“You after joyous heart snapdragon?” the proprietor asked.

“I am, if you have one,” he replied. “Depending on the quality of course.”

“Live or dead?” the herb seller added.

“Live, preferably,” he clarified. “Or a cutting that can be planted.”

“Must be the New Year turning for folks, you’re in luck,” the seller remarked with an amused laugh. “What quality you looking for?”

“Soul Foundation,” he said. “Although it doesn’t have to have spiritual wisdom.”

“That I can do,” the herb seller nodded “Got one I can sell you for sixty spirit stones.”

“Sixty…” he frowned.

“You can take it or leave it,” the seller grunted.

“I want to see the plant,” he mused, leaning on the counter as he thought.

The herb seller waved to the youth, who vanished and returned a moment later with a plant in a pot with a small pyramid of pale gold and orange flowers on a leafy stem. As far as quality went, while it was... it was not exactly lacking…

“It has wasting on the leaves,” he pointed out, noting the spots on its leaves. “I’ll pay fifty for it.”

Fifty was still somewhat expensive, given the stress the plant was under, but that was also something he could remedy himself with some ward stones over a few days in the Han estate.

“Fifty-five,” the herb seller retorted, “lowest I’ll go.”

“I can’t see you selling many of these here,” he pointed out, wondering if the seller would budge further.

“Aye, and that just means I ain’t selling it cheap,” the seller sniffed, clearly unwilling to do so.

“Fine,” he decided, nodding, because you had to know where people would draw the line in these kind of trades. “I’ll take it for fifty-five. Do you have a storage container for it?”

“Eh, you think this is them fancy places up in the markets?” the seller chuckled. “It’s got a pot, that’s enough.”

“…”

Sighing, he put down half a cube of spirit stones and counted out five more.

“What about prosperity ginseng?” he asked.

“You will be lucky to find that around here, I only had this because Old Fengli sold it to me. Folks who got that kind of spirit stones around here aren’t going to use ‘em to buy a glorified houseplant!” the herb seller grunted. “In any case, most around here also ain’t going the ‘imperial style’ with their New Year’s gifts; you trying to impress some whore in the Red Blossom District with this?”

Tacitly choosing to ignore that, he took the pot and turned it around a few times, considering the plant critically. It was quite robust… surprisingly robust actually, given it had only been given the minimum of care. The herb seller was clearly watching to see what he did with an unwieldy plant with a stem as long as his forearm as well, which he found somewhat amusing.

Without comment, he pulled out a knife and expertly pruned off the flower head and most of the stem, feeding some qi into the plant as he did so to minimise the shock. The herb had not awakened spiritual wisdom, so it would put out a fresh flower once replanted and provided a few weeks’ nourishment in any case. Storing the flowers away, because those were also useful, cut fresh, he withdrew a spirit stone and shoved it into the earth, then bundled over the top of the plant with some cloth and tied a bit of rope around the pot so he could put it over his shoulder.

“…”

“What,” he said drily, noting their slightly shocked expressions. “Can only herb sellers know how to prune plants?”

“Ai… experts everywhere,” the herb seller remarked wryly, shaking his head.

“You learn a few things,” he conceded, giving them both a slight bow. “New Year’s blessings…”

“Indeed,” the herb seller agreed, giving him a miniscule bow back.

Adjusting the herb so it didn’t bounce awkwardly, he left the store behind, thinking over what other herbs he might be able to find in the Seng District.

In that regard, the mission request logs available to all high ranked Hunters through their talismans turned out to be invaluable. When he pulled up the listings for the Seng District for the past month there turned out to be a surprising scattering of herb wealth squirrelled away throughout the district.

Some would, he was sure, decry that use of the Bureau’s centralized records as an ‘abuse of power’ or similar, but given mostly the ones complaining were young masters, clan elders with politics in mind or alchemists, he had little sympathy for them. In any case, by the time afternoon was shifting into evening, his decision was thoroughly vindicated in his eyes. He had found not only the 'joyous snapdragon’, but also a suitable Soul Foundation grade ‘prosperity ginseng’, a Nascent Soul ‘blue-star lotus’ root that could be resuscitated, a ‘misty chime jasmine’ cutting, two other ginseng roots suitable for nourishing water and life or wood attribute qi foundations and a metal attuned ‘star-flower anemone’.

He did still end up trying to track down the extended family of one of the flower sellers, but drew a blank there, so in the end returned back to the Han estate to drop off what he had before heading back across the river towards the Red Blossom District.

“How did you get half of these?” Mei Chang – who rather unusually had been in her ‘office’ within the estate rather than off on some task set by his mother – asked, staring at the small pile of riches, which had cost him close to eight Spirit Jade in the end.

“Back alley herb stores in the Seng District,” he grumbled, taking his cloak off. “Honestly, I’ll probably have to go back again. This was as much as I cared to carry around in this weather.”

“We do have some storage boxes,” Mei Chang pointed out, turning over the blue-star lotus root in her hands.

“You could have given me them first thing,” he remarked a bit more tartly than he intended, helping himself to some tea as she sorted through them, striking things off the list.

“Ah… true,” she agreed, giving him a sideways look and a grimace. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged. “The other items on the list will be… trickier to get though. These were a stroke of good fortune born of whatever led to the major brokerages sending all their stock to Blue Water City.”

“Yeah, about that,” Mei Chang sighed, looking back at him. “We had an elder from the Kun and a bunch from the Ha come by earlier asking us to sell stock in various rare herbs at… actually rather insulting rates.”

“What for?” he asked, sitting down and sipping his tea.

“There is a big auction in Blue Water City.”

“And why are we not just selling them there ourselves?” he asked drily.

“Your father and your uncle Jiao both said the same thing,” Mei Chang remarked. “However, neither Ha nor Kun were especially forthcoming.”

“How surprising,” he remarked sarcastically. “There was little in the way of knowledge about town either, just a lot of speculation, though I admit that that is filtered through the prism of politics in the Seng District.”

“Well, yes,” Mei Chang agreed, having started examining the star-flower anemone.

“I suppose you cannot leverage anything through the Pavilion for the others?” she asked, giving him a searching look.

“…”

“I am not spending my contribution points for resources from that place on New Year’s gifts for assholes like Chen Bei,” he added flatly, heading that idea off. “If the ‘estate’ wants them, I’ll sell them; one hundred points for a Spirit Jade.”

“That will make your uncles actually spit blood,” Mei Chang remarked with a degree of amusement.

“It’s a sellers’ market, as I’ve been told several times today,” he retorted.

“That’s fair,” Mei Chang agreed, sighing deeply.

“I mean, what are my brothers doing to contribute to this?” he added, waving a hand at the selection of pots and their herbs on the table. “And don’t tell me that ‘wining and dining my cousins and their friends at fancy teahouses in the Market District’ counts.”

Mei Chang just grimaced and leant against the edge of the table, staring into nothing, leading him to suspect that the family was happy with that ‘counting’.

“Sorry, it’s been a bad day,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” she murmured, before giving her own resigned sigh. “Even this is… more than could have been expected, though I note some of these are going to need a bit of extra love before they get given as gifts.”

“Unavoidably,” he agreed, taking in the plants on the table. “Do you—?”

“—I am sure there are others around who have that skillset,” Mei Chang said, cutting him off before he could offer. “I take it you are going to head back out?”

“Probably,” he conceded. “Though it will only be to go to the western side of town. I don’t fancy going to Eastern Jing at night, in this rain, and walking around with valuable herbs.”

“Fair,” Mei Chang nodded.

“If I can, I’ll see if Jun Arai or Jun Sana are back from their clearance requests, and check out a few of the brokerages where I have some personal connections,” he mused. “—Unless I am required here for a meal or something?”

“No, there is a big banquet at the Gilded Carp in the Pavilion District. Hosted by your uncle Jiao for various eminent friends of the clan,” Mei Chang mused. “Most of the extended family will be there I don’t doubt.”

“But not you,” he noted, raising an eyebrow.

“No servants,” she murmured, her tone barely hiding her sneer. “I don’t count as ‘extended family’ in their eyes. That was that stuck-up green-tea-bitch of a little miss’s exact words.”

“Me neither, apparently,” he remarked drily, wondering which cousin she was talking about. “This is also the first I am hearing about it, so don’t take it personally.”

“Hah!” she barked a laugh and then shook her head. “Well, we will have a meal here. You are welcome to join us if you are back by then.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “If not, I am sure I can take everyone out to Mrs Leng’s on a favour in the next few days. Even if it is just the market stall.”

“That would be a nice gesture,” Mei Chang agreed, pouring herself some tea.

“Anyway, I should head off again,” he said, standing up and finishing his tea. “Oh… did anyone get to the bottom of the monkey thing?”

“Oh… that,” Mei Chang muttered, her face twisting.

“That bad?” he murmured.

“Kinda…

“Some of your cousins caught a monkey stealing fruit from the gardens yesterday. They dispersed all its qi and used it for sparring practice – because it was a ‘qi beast’ – to prepare for whatever this tournament coming up is.”

Seeing his slightly slack expression, because words had genuinely failed him, she just sighed glumly.

“They didn’t kill it?” he asked, a faint chill running down his arms.

“No, thankfully,” she clarified, staring at her own teacup for a long moment before continuing. “It managed to run away after taking a bit of a beating. Nobody has owned up to being the ringleader, but the monkey seems to have been Soul Foundation, so that rules out a lot of the younger ones like Xiaobo, who did the actual ‘sparring’.”

“Oh great,” he groaned, then frowned. “Was Xiaoxiao also involved? That doesn’t seem like her.”

“Only tangentially, and she tried to tell them to stop, or so she claimed,” Mei Chang went on. “Uncle Ryong was livid, as were Uncle Murai and Aunt Yen.”

“Little surprise there,” he mused. “They put a target on half the fate-thrashed estate!”

“Yeah, you should keep an eye out,” Mei Chang added. “You might also be targeted.”

“I know,” he acknowledged, pulling his travelling cloak back on.

“Are you going to go north of the river, to fancy establishments, looking like that?” Mei Chang asked him pointedly.

“…”

He looked down at his more nondescript… in fact, downright ‘common’-looking travelling robe and exhaled, letting his shoulders slump.

“Probably I shouldn’t,” he agreed.

By the time he had swapped robes, freshened up – because the quirks of the weather meant you couldn’t just use qi for that and it was a muggy day – and headed back out, lanterns were starting to be lit in the streets in earnest.

To save some time, given he was going to a portion of the Red Blossom District, he walked through the heart of the Blue River District, back to the south side of the river and then directly along it, to the Mother’s Bridge, rather than the ‘nearer’ Yu Bridge, which lead to the centre of the town.

At the Mother’s Bridge, families were already laying gifts at the azure-roofed shrine to the Queen Mother of the West that dominated the plaza on the south side of the bridge. The bridge itself was also thronged with people, mostly casting lanterns with prayer talismans off of it.

After pausing to watch them for a few moments, he too bought a ceremonial paper lantern painted with turquoise lotus blossoms and golden luan off a shrine acolyte. Walking across the bridge, he stopped before the statue of the Queen Mother in her shrine at the mid-point, then, after making a small prayer on behalf of the families he had spoken to… and whom he would still have to speak to, he dropped his own lantern over and watched the dark river carry the little light away into the light rain.

It was a small gesture, but it was still a gesture.

He was still standing there, watching the dark waters with their hundreds of lanterns swirl by below, when an almost blue-black bolt of lightning seared down out of the sky to the south of the town, the shockwave rustling trees and making the lanterns hanging on the bridge dance as well-wishers and bystanders turned and stared.

*Krrooooom*

A moment later, the sound of the first bolt arrived, even as another deep-blue pulse flickered down, and then another, in rapid succession until nine bolts had stuck some distant target outside the town.

“Impressive,” someone nearby commented, staring into the gloomy rain.

“I wonder what realm that—?”

The words of the woman next to him were lost as an eye-searing purple bolt, like a celestial dragon, flickered down, followed by another and another, each one sending ripples of lesser lightning through the rain that seemed to resemble the shadows of lotus blossoms. By the sixth bolt, the formations on the town wards were properly activated, mandala-like taiji patterns in red, gold and green rising up from the distant walls and reflecting through the rain.

“Peak earthly tribulation,” an old man, sitting cross-legged on a nearby parapet remarked. “Been a while since we saw one of those.”

“Purple for the Ha… Prosperity indeed,” someone else muttered.

He counted seven, eight, nine… bolts, each one with its own lesser ephemera, until the twelfth one struck and the sky to the south turned unnaturally dark for a moment, as if there was a final, hidden bolt in there. The falling raindrops seemed to slow for a moment, shaking faintly as shadows of gold flickered in the edge of his vision, then the moment passed, almost as if it never was.

“What realm was that? Old Jifan?” a woman nearby asked the old man, who was staring into the distance with a faint frown.

“Immortal realm,” the old man said authoritatively, stroking his beard. “A successful crossing, carried out at sunset, an impressive achievement indeed.”

“Truly, an auspicious day!” someone else nearby declared.

“Praise to the Ha clan!”

“Praise to the Queen Mother!”

“Praise to the Blue Morality Emperor!”

The various calls and salutations to the southern sky were quickly taken up by others watching, though just as many simply shrugged and went about their own business. Shifting his umbrella, he gave one final, somewhat curious look to the south, wondering who it might have been who crossed over that threshold, before turning and heading onwards himself.

Leaving the bridge, he headed up the main thoroughfare a short distance then turned right, along the main street into the portion of the Western District that was north of the river. His destination, mostly one of opportunity, was Jun Arai and Jun Sana’s home, which overlooked the river about half-way between the two large canals running inland from the river that bisected the district.

Much as he expected, there was no sign of anyone home when he arrived at the gate to the Jun family home. The lanterns were off and the wards protecting it were in full effect. Given there was no point in lingering in a largely deserted street, he recorded a short note explaining that he wanted to talk about spirit herbs and put it into the message box for the house, before going on his way.

After pondering a bit as he walked back up through the tree-lined streets of the Western District, towards the main market squares again, he decided to go to the herb brokerage run by Kun Talshin, Kun Juni’s elder brother, first, before widening the scope of his trawl through the Red Blossom District. There were only three ‘families’ on the list for that district anyway, counting the addition of Xuafan Xongbei’s three ‘sisters’, and in any case he very much doubted it would be straightforward finding them during evening hours. The other two names, Kanra and Tenli, both belonged to flower sellers and Yuuna had thought they were both orphans, in spite of what was listed on the jade.

With that in mind, he headed back towards the Yu District until he again arrived at the canal, then turned north along it.

To call it a simple canal was a bit misleading really: it was wide enough to take river barges, though it rarely did these days. The canals had originally been created for that purpose, to give river access to various crafting districts and warehouses, before the Blue Gate School created an actual harbour and accompanying district a few millennia prior. South of the river they were still used for goods and people transport, but, on the north side, mostly they now held floating stalls for food and the like and the odd teahouse or pleasure boat.

Along the way he did stop and buy some fish skewers from a stall. They barely even qualified as spirit food, but as he walked on, nibbling them, just the act of being one among a crowd of people simply doing everyday, happy things, was… cathartic, after the trials of the day. A sliver of normality to counter the parade of tribulations that had been manifesting throughout the day. Something anyone could enjoy.

“Even that is maudlin if you dwell on it, though,” he reflected under his breath at last, pausing to stare at a bunch of Duo Li’s lotuses – which someone really should have cleaned out of the canal already – at the juncture between the Red Blossom and Kun districts.

Shaking his head, suspecting that it was a case of there not being enough enticement to lure the rather unmotivated bulk of West Flower Picking Town’s low grade Herb Hunters, he crossed over the canal where it turned to head into the market street and made his way along the far side to finally arrive, after some twenty minutes of walking, at Kun Talshin’s herb brokerage.

The lights were on at least, so he entered the main hall and found that there were a few folk looking at various displays, which was promising. Crossing over to the main counter, he smiled brightly at the young woman behind it, who had to be new, because he didn’t recognise her.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yes, is Kun Talshin here?” he asked politely.

“Erm… he is not,” the girl said a bit apologetically. “Did you have an appointment?”

“Not as such, I am Han Shu, a Herb Hunter?” he replied. “I do requests for the brokerage fairly regularly.”

“I… see,” she nodded.

“I take it you are new?” he asked.

“I am,” she confirmed with a slight bob of her head. “I started last week… if you excuse me, I’ll get Senior Weng.”

He ended up leaning on the counter for a whole five minutes, not that it bothered him particularly, before Kun Weng Shixiang, one of the regular employees at the brokerage, appeared, following the girl.

“Ah, Brother Shu!” he grinned. “New Year’s blessings on you and your family.”

“And to you,” he replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster… which unfortunately was not much at this point.

“You have the look of an official who has had a ‘day’,” Kun Weng Shixiang remarked.

“I have, rather,” he agreed with weary grimace. “Not that you’ll want to hear about it.”

“My rates are very reasonable,” Kun Weng Shixiang joked. “Pay for my alcohol and you can talk all you like.”

“Haaa,” he half sighed, half laughed, before collecting himself. “I have a list, I don’t suppose you can check and see if you have anything on it?”

Weng Shixiang took the jade he proffered and eyed it for a moment, then passed it to the girl who had been on the counter.

“Yunmei, go see what we have of those, would you?”

Yunmei bowed and scurried off as Shixiang produced a jar of wine and two cups.

He accepted his cup and toasted Shixiang before sipping it.

“So, why do you need to see the Boss?” Shixiang asked.

“Well, those herbs mainly,” he sighed. “This shortage is a headache.”

“It is,” Shixiang agreed. “Even we got hit. A bunch of old thieves from the Kun clan showed up yesterday with a requisition order from the Supreme Elder and cleaned out half of everything living, barely paid for it as well. Talshin is going to spit blood when he sees what they took.”

“That seems… irregular?”

“It is, there is some big auction on in Blue Water City apparently,” Shixiang grumbled. “The herbs aren’t even for it though, not really, they are to help recreate a facsimile of the Yin Eclipse mountain range to impress the Imperial Princess who is apparently visiting. They took a bunch of artefacts as well… see?”

Shixiang waved at the door he had entered by. Turning to look, he realised both the stone carvings of flowering trees that had been there since… forever, were missing.

“They are useful to nobody, just decorative things from an old ruin the Kun clan explored… millennia ago that Talshin felt made a nice statement,” Shixiang grumbled. “And they took ‘em… why? They are just pretty?!”

“Indeed,” he nodded, sipping the wine, before asking. “So, any idea when Kun Talshin will be back?”

“He was meant to be back earlier,” Shixiang grumbled. “He messaged to say that he was transporting a shipment of moondust grass from Jade Willow Village of all places. He rushed off there like two days ago, took Senior Huanfu and Senior Chengde with him too, though he never said why.”

“Maybe something relating to the harvest?” he shrugged, though in his heart he had to wonder if that was not a bit too coincidental, given he was now dealing with a bunch of bodies from up there.

“That is what he said,” Shixiang agreed. “In any case, you can probably check back around midnight, or I can message you when he gets here?”

“The latter might be easier,” he replied.

“Okay,” Shixiang nodded. “I’ll go get you a talisman, be right back.”

He leant there, enjoying the cool wine and watching the other customers browse the various herbs on display for a few more minutes, until Shixiang returned with a jade talisman in the shape of a fish.

“We have a few of the things on your list, as well,” Shixiang said, proffering him the talisman. “Dried Mufang lingzhe of the appropriate quality, maiden’s jasmine and an earth element ginseng root that is at Soul Foundation. Do you want them here or…?”

“Send them to the Han clan estate as soon as is convenient, care of Mei Chang,” he replied. “How much does that come to?”

“I’ll put it on your tab,” Shixiang said drily.

“That’s generous, it will help in the short term,” he muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed, as that suggested that some of those were expensive.

-Probably it’s the Mufang lingzhe… given its synergistic properties with yang attribute spirit roots.

“What will you do to kill time?” Shixiang asked, pouring him more wine.

“Not sure,” he mused, pondering just that point.

-I suppose I could always take up Jingfei Wenhua and Ning Sora on their offer of dinner, he reflected.

“I’ll probably go grab food,” he said eventually, deciding that that was what he would do, given they should be finishing up their day’s work around sunset in any case.

Shixiang’s question was also slightly loaded, he couldn’t help but feel, and while the pay for consulting on spirit herbs would probably be good, he did not feel up to it after the day he had had.

“I’ll let you know when the boss is back then,” Shixiang nodded amicably. “Enjoy your food.”

“Hopefully,” he agreed.

Stashing the talisman away at his belt, he took his leave politely and headed at a somewhat brisk pace, compared to earlier at least, back through the streets to the main market plaza. It was, if anything, even more packed in the evening than it had been during the day; mostly, he realised, because the play-biography of Patriarch Ha Dongfei’s great achievements was still ongoing, and the performers were good enough at fighting in a flashy manner that it made for a fun spectacle.

Mrs Leng’s stalls were crammed, as expected, but fortunately Ning Sora and Wenhua were still there.

“You actually came back,” Ning Sora chuckled, waving for him to come through.

“It’s been that kind of day,” he replied, glancing over at Sera and Yunlee, who were busy serving food to those waiting.

“We are about to head off,” Ning Sora said. “The idea was to go to the main restaurant, it will at least be manageable there.”

“You eat out at the place you work,” he remarked, rather amused.

“It’s a perk, table guaranteed,” Wenhua smirked.

“And the young master quota is kept to a respectable minimum,” Ning Sora added with an eye roll.

“Are you two off, now your date is here?” Sera remarked drily, coming over.

“Whose date!” Ning Sora scowled. “Can people not eat meals together without you old folk getting funny ideas?”

Wenhua just rolled her eyes and bustled around, packing various things away.

“How did your dutiful excursion go?” Sera asked him as she started to prepare the next batch of dishes.

“About as you said it would,” he replied with a weary grimace.

“Most would not do it,” Yunlee noted.

“Most are not Recovery Hunters,” he remarked, a bit more sourly.

“This is true,” Sera agreed with a sigh.

“Anyway, we are off!” Ning Sora said brightly, taking out her own umbrella.

“Wait...” Sera frowned, waving to him to stay.

“Hmm?”

“My sister-in-law lives in Eastern Jing,” Sera said, more seriously. “I will see to it that word reaches the relevant people in a way that won’t see your name remembered as the poor sap who had to wash the Ha clan’s dirty secrets.”

“…”

He pondered that for a moment, then pulled out a blank slip and copied the details onto it quickly.

“I will still have to make an official visit,” he pointed out, because the Bureau would complain horribly about that if he didn’t.

“We know,” Yunlee nodded.

“However,” Sera added, “This way, it is an expected visit and they will understand that you are a good lad, just doing your best to ensure that families have a bit of respite…”

“—not a Governor’s Hall or Pavilion flunky come to spread ill tidings on the worst day possible,” Yunlee muttered.

“Thank you,” he murmured, bowing to them both.

“Think nothing of it,” Yunlee sighed. “It ain’t a job they should be making a young lad like you do anyway.”

He bowed again, more deeply, then hurried after Ning Sora and Wenhua, who were already heading out of the preparation area, though not that quickly, so he could catch up.

“It is shameful that they make you run around bringing widows and children such tidings,” Ning Sora remarked after they had walked along for a few minutes, looking at the stalls in silence.

“It just is what it is,” he replied, though privately it was hard not to agree with that sentiment.

“I suppose,” Wenhua nodded solemnly. “Doesn’t make it right though.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” he said, changing the subject. “Did anything interesting happen in the plaza?”

“Oh… Fairy Jing tracked down one of the thieves, beat them half to death before the guard came,” Sora remarked with a giggle.

Shaking his head, he just listened as the pair happily talked about the various bits of ‘performance theatre’ that had afflicted the market plaza throughout the day. It didn’t take long to get to Mrs Leng’s proper restaurant, a three story teahouse on a small square set away from the main markets, whose upper stories offered excellent views down across the Yu District to the river and to the gardens in the Red Blossom District.

Time became a bit of a blur, really, as they claimed a table on the top floor, ordered food and wine and simply talked about pointless things. Both Ning Sora and Wenhua thought the whole mess at the Han estate with the monkeys and their orchestrated retribution was hilarious, so the conversation soon turned to the various antics of West Flower Picking Town’s most infamous ‘gang’.

He had just started telling them a rather memorable anecdote that had originated with Kun Juni, regarding monkeys ambushing spirit herb farmers, when the talisman at his waist chimed.

“Excuse me,” he apologised to them, cutting short what he was saying and taking the talisman out.

“Shixiang?” he asked, sending qi into the talisman.

“The Boss is back, although he is a bit… frazzled. Hunter Arai is with him as well—”

“She is?” he asked, surprised at that. “Can… you give her the talisman?”

“Eh… one moment…”

“Are you cheating on us?” Ning Sora smirked, pouring them all more wine.

“Work stalks you everywhere,” he replied drolly.

“Han Shu, what do you want?” Arai’s slightly muted voice manifested through the talisman, eschewing her normal cheery tone.

-Ah… she has had a bad day as well, he grimaced.

“I… had wanted to ask you about herbs, but it can wait,” he said diplomatically.

“Arai?” Ning Sora asked, leaning over.

“Sora?” Arai’s voice echoed, reminding him that these talismans were open channel, rather than direct using bound soul sense.

“We are at Mrs Leng’s if you want to come join us,” Ning Sora said, basically hijacking the conversation.

“…”

“Okay,” Arai agreed after a short pause. “We will come.”

He was about to say more, but the talisman cut off again, so he just sighed and put it down.

“If you talk to widows like you talk to girls, it’s no wonder Mrs Sera took pity on you,” Wenhua remarked drily.

“…”

He stared at them both, feeling rather aggrieved at that comment, truth be told, but rather than complain he opted to simply nod and claim his cup of wine and dip some raw fish into a bowl of yin-fire-pepper sauce.

“—so, you were about to tell us about these monkeys that stole all the Ha clan guest experts’ boots?” Ning Sora said with a grin, turning the conversation back to its old topic.

“Ah... Yeah,” he nodded, reorganising his thoughts as he savoured the fish and trying to remember the funny details of the tale as Juni had originally told it to him.

In the end, he had almost finished that tale, which took about twenty minutes of describing the slowly escalating torment a single monkey had inflicted upon a dozen people over a week, when Arai finally appeared with Kun Talshin… and Kun Lianmei, of all people, in tow. Off behind them, he saw Ha Erlang Leng as well, heading for another table on the far side, where, he realised belatedly, Ha Yun and a few other scions from the local Ha clan were also having a meal.

Without comment Arai sat down beside Ning Sora, grabbed the wine jar and poured herself a full cup.

“Sorry about before,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean to drag you into more work.”

“It’s just been that kind of week,” Arai sighed, sitting back and running a hand through her dark-brown hair, looking remarkably jaded for her years. “Starting with the corpses of a trio of flower sellers showing up in the Red Pit which had no business being there… and ending with a bunch of very shady bandits and an ancient ruin.”

“Eh?” he stared at her dully, because that sounded… familiar in ways he didn’t like, especially the mention of flower sellers.

“What’s with ‘Eh’?” she scowled, fixing him with dark hazel-green eyes that were full of unhappiness, before taking the cup of wine Ning Sora had just passed her and downing it in one shot. “How did your day go? Leng told me about your shadow-balsam escapade.”

“—Oh,” he blinked, slightly surprised that she knew about that, before recalling that Ha Erlang Leng had come in with them. “That… no, that’s not it.”

“—Some bandits apparently dumped a bunch of bodies in a tetrid stalker nest up near Jade Willow,” Ning Sora said, before he could marshal his own thoughts.

“He ended up going around telling the next of kin, who are mostly from the Seng District,” Wenhua added with a weirdly supportive glower. “Typical of the Ha clan, foisting off bad news on others to save their blushes.”

He realised both Talshin and Arai were looking at him like he was a strange mushroom, and Elder Lianmei, who had also now arrived at their table, was frowning at him in a way that made him feel distinctly uneasy.

“Why do I get the feeling that our bad days are more related than I’d like?” he muttered, shifting his gaze between them.

“Indeed,” Arai muttered.

“Why don’t you start first,” Lianmei frowned, sitting down and claiming a piece of fresh fish. “Starting with which elder so proactively put you up to that sorry task… which hasn’t even been filed here yet.”