Qian Shanyi saw the thirteen-leaved lotus flag fluttering in the wind above the roofs of the surrounding buildings from a good distance away, and headed straight for it. Soon enough, she reached the edge of the town, and stepped out onto the wide wide circle of flat, featureless, grassy ground separating her goal from any other nearby buildings. It was a squat building of packed earth and stone, trapezoid in shape, like a pyramid with its top cut off. Its walls were angled so much that it could pass for a strangely-shaped hill, if it wasn’t painted completely black, absorbing light like a void in the world.
The building was, in a way, a marvel of modern engineering - designed to be as resistant against attacks of all forms as humanly possible within the narrow confines of using cheap, local, spiritually inert materials, every aspect of it optimized to perfection. The walls were multiple meters thick, with the only weakness being the skylights letting light and air inside of the structure, barely visible against the building’s color, and Qian Shanyi knew that they too could be sealed shut from the inside in the event that proved necessary. The exact details of the construction were something of an open secret - she had never seen the blueprints, but knew that Luminous Lotus Pavilion’s treasure storage was based on the same design.
Above the roof, the thirteen-leaved lotus flag flew gently in the wind on a long mast, the only decoration allowed to remain on the otherwise barren structure.
This was the imperial post office.
Qian Shanyi headed over to the solid metal doors, and pushed them open. Despite the intimidating outward appearance, the lobby was surprisingly bright and accommodating, full of warm tones of wooden furniture and almost white, tiled floor. There was plenty of natural light - all of the skylights were lined with polished stone, reflecting more light into the structure than could be otherwise expected - and a couple of lamps near the ceiling added to the atmosphere, shining in the clear and stable manner of something powered by spiritual energy. The room was cut in half by a long counter, with seats lining the walls on the side of the doors, and walls full of closets and cupboards on the other. A single door led deeper into the building, to what she knew to be storage areas, a small imperial library, and cozy housing for the officials stationed here.
A middle-aged woman dressed in black imperial robes with white lotus patterns was reading a book behind the counter. Her hair was gray, though from dye instead of age, and pinned into a neat little bun. She nodded at Qian Shanyi as she saw her enter, put a string in between the pages and put her book down, turning her attention towards Shanyi as she approached. Small ocean symbols running along her sleeves marked her as a fairly low rank official, but still higher than what she expected to see in a frontier town like this. She was a cultivator, though still only somewhere between the low and middle refinement stage, despite her advanced age.
“Postmaster Lan Yu, at your service,” She greeted Qian Shanyi, bowing her head slightly. She returned the gesture.
“Pleased to meet you, fellow cultivator Lan. I am Qian Shanyi, a loose cultivator.”
“What can I do for fellow cultivator Qian?”
“I’d like to send a pair of letters,” she said, taking them out of her backpack and handing them over. Lan Yu glanced at the folded pieces of paper, reached behind her counter, took out a pair of envelopes, and slotted the letters inside, sealing them with drips of wax in a practiced motion. She returned them to Qian Shanyi alongside a small brush so she could write the recipient address on the top, and she did so, using the blocky, clear script she always used for letters, before returning the envelopes to Lan Yu.
“No return address?” Lan Yu asked, her tone cut down to the precise minimum after years of practice. Qian Shanyi would have expected her to at least raise an eyebrow, but her expression was entirely neutral, merely clarifying a clerical question as opposed to having any actual interest in her motivations for not leaving the recipient any way to respond.
“No,” she shook her head, “I will be leaving this city soon, and I am not sure where exactly I will stop. Any return message would not find me.”
Of course, the real reason was that she didn’t want her sect finding her at all, as she was still legally tied to them - not to mention, her message to them was less than flattering. They could no doubt force her to come back to the Golden Rabbit Bay until she was declared fit to leave the sect and paid her debts to them, but without a return address to start with, she didn’t see how they could manage to track her across the entire empire.
“You could leave the address of this office instead,” Lan Yu offered, “We keep such messages until the recipient comes back for them, and you could make a request from any other post office to have all your correspondence moved there.”
“There wouldn’t be a point in any case,” she shook her head, “these messages wouldn’t require an answer.”
Lan Yu simply nodded, and put the two letters inside of one of the cupboards on the wall behind her.
“They should be delivered in about a week,” she said, “Nine days at most.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” Lan Yu responded, “Imperial post does not charge cultivators for postage.”
That made Qian Shanyi raise an eyebrow. She learned about the postal system before she became a cultivator, and sorting correspondence of her teacher was one of her duties back in the sect, but she had never actually sent any letters in person before. Lan Yu gave her a measured look in response.
“If I may inquire, fellow cultivator Qian,” she said in the same precise intonation, “you do not have a lot of direct experience with our system, do you?”
“You could say that.”
“Then if I may have a couple minutes of your time…” she said, finally getting up out of her tall chair and heading to the side of the room. She pulled out a scroll case, and took a thick set of papers out of it, laying them in front of Qian Shanyi.
“This is a cultivator almanac for Xiaohongshan,” she explained, showing her different papers. Some of them included a sketch of someone’s face, while others did not. “It lists all cultivators who reside in this city as well as other nearby settlements and who consented to be listed here. Any such almanac would include their appearances, as well as overall preferences, stated allegiances, family members, duels they have engaged in, and other basic information. You can request a similar one in every city with an imperial post office, and I highly advise you to memorize as much of it as you can.”
“This is…a lot of information,” she said, raising her eyebrows as she read through the pages, “why would the empire simply give this away?”
“We have a vested interest in minimizing conflict between cultivators, and this tends to help significantly,” Lan Yu responded, “at the very least, this way people know who to avoid crossing paths with, and who they should make sure to avoid offending by accident - the number of open blood feuds in the empire has dropped by sixty percent in the years after this systematic tracking has been introduced. I further advise you to list yourself here - this is also free, and some sects use it to recruit loose cultivators, whenever they have a need for it. For a very small price, a painter in town will even do a sketch of your face.”
“But it isn’t required?”
For a moment, she saw a shade of deep exhaustion pass over the other woman’s face.
“No, this is of course entirely voluntary,” Lan Yu said, “Some cultivators prefer their privacy and refuse to get listed. However, I assure you that this is not worth it. You will be much safer if everyone knows who you are than if they do not.”
“Perhaps another time,” she responded noncommittally, “is there any other information you can give me?”
There turned out to be quite a lot - she could get a list of duels that were officiated by a city or a local sect, basic financial information about the local sects (none in Xiaohongshan, but Lan Yu told her she could expect it in other cities), a list of shops and businesses catering to cultivators, access the local imperial library (which she did know about, admittedly), read the recent census, and even sign up to receive updates from some well-known research sects (though for that one, she would have to pay, since someone would need to copy over the text by hand). Most of this information was only available to cultivators, though from what the postmaster told her, most of them weren’t aware of all the services they could access. It was no wonder that the tutors she had before becoming a cultivator didn’t tell her about this - chances were, they simply didn’t know.
There was a calm intensity about Lan Yu that Qian Shanyi found mesmerizing - the sheer focus on every single aspect of a single topic, carving it up until there was nothing else left to explore. It brought back her memories of first deciding to join the Luminous Lotus Pavilion - she could have entered into one of the imperial programs instead, and if she did, she would have likely ended up just like Lan Yu, assigned to one of thousands of positions that cultivators filled all across the empire. Back then she thought it would be like entering a cage and throwing away the key, but knowing what she did now about the sects, she might have chosen differently.
There was one thing that brought her up short, and reminded her why she made the choice she did. Lan Yu hadn’t even entered the middle level of the refinement stage, and with her age, she would almost surely never enter the building formation stage. The empire might have given her training and a good post, but stretched thin as it was, it could not dedicate sufficient resources to every individual official. At the end of the day, every cultivator needed plentiful spiritual energy in order to advance in realm, and if they could not get it from the environment they needed to supplement it with spirit stones, which were expensive. Qian Shanyi hated to admit it, but even with how insufficient the support of her sect was, it was still clearly more than the empire could spare for a relatively low-ranked clerk.
What a damn shame. Such talent, yet she will still die young.
She ended up spending a good hour here listening to the older woman, but eventually, she had to get going. The swords wouldn’t sell themselves.
“If you have more questions, you can always come see me again,” Lan Yu told her, “I am on duty every other day from sunrise to midday, and at other times on occasion, helping out my trainees. If I am not here, you would have to make do with them, but I have only just started on their training, so I could not vouch for their skills yet.”
“Thank you. I think I will take you up on that.”
“It’s my duty as a postmaster,” Lan Yu grumbled, her mask lifting briefly for the second time from the start of the conversation, “No thanks are required. Just give us your mail, and we'll deliver it wherever it needs to go.”
She looked directly at her, her eyes boring into her with a calm intensity.
“Some people say the empire is whatever is in between the slaughter posts,” she said, “it isn’t. Empire is the post office - we are its blood and sinew, sending information and resources all around its gargantuan body. As long as our mail can reach you, you are in the empire; and there are very few places we cannot reach within the mortal realms.”
----------------------------------------
With the information she got from Lan Yu, it was easy to find a trader she needed. Despite the relatively low population of Xiaohongshan - several thousand as of the last census a decade ago, and probably approaching ten thousand by now - situated as the town was on the relative frontier of the empire, many loose cultivators passed through it in search of riches, and a small district appeared to serve their interests. She noticed the colorful sign above the entrance to the small shop immediately, proclaiming itself to be “Cheng Dao’s amazing spiritual wares”, painted in brilliant colors to showcase potions, salves, and monster cores that were sold inside.
Entering the shop, she found it to be a cozy space, walls padded with thick red fabric that dampened all sounds within the store. Most of the floor area was taken up by long shelves that carried small wooden plaques, painted to resemble this or that product that was sold here but kept in storage instead of displayed outright. Most of it seemed to be medicines and salves, of the sort that even a lot of the common people would find useful, but a lot was dedicated specifically towards cultivator concerns. She even saw two swords being presented for sale in one of the corners.
Perfect.
“If you see anything you like, don’t hesitate to bring the plaque here, and I will bring the product out right away for your perusal,” she heard the shopkeeper call out to her from the back of the store, and she turned to observe the man. He was built like a bear, dressed in expensive red silks to match his store, and though his face was marred by a long scar passing through his destroyed left eye, the smile he was showing her more than made up for it.
“I am not here to buy, but rather to sell,” she smiled, approaching the counter, “Qian Shanyi. I take it you are Cheng Dao?”
“In the flesh,” he laughed, his eyes quickly flickering over her, “What do you have for me? I pay well for most demon beast organs - much better than anyone else in town, if you would believe my boasting.”
“I am afraid not. I am looking to sell a sword.”
“A sword?” His eyebrows flew up, and she saw his opinion of her adjust upwards, “Well, let’s see it.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
She awkwardly reached into her backpack with her one good hand and slowly pulled out one of the swords, unwrapped it, and passed it over for examination. His eyes flickered over the silk, and she could tell he recognised it for what it was. He took the sword, and she saw him use several examination techniques in sequence, and channel some spiritual energy through the sword itself, swinging it in a few practiced moves. When he finished, he put it down on the counter in between them, and gave her a considerate look. She waited patiently for his response.
“I am not familiar with this smithing style, but this is a very good weapon, fellow cultivator Qian,” he said, “I would need to consult my books for a proper evaluation, but I am definitely interested. I could offer you one hundred and fifty low grade spirit stones for it.”
Her face remained a mask of polite contentment, but in her soul, she cheered. This sale was halfway over already, as were their monetary troubles - spirit stones never went for less than three silver yuan, and often were a fair bit more than that - the prices she saw in this store were more than double that. Wang Yonghao worried over nothing.
Still, it paid to push the envelope.
After some haggling, they settled on a preliminary price of two hundred low grade spirit stones, with her implying Cheng Dao could expect more business out of her in the future. He said that he would need three days to get the money together, as well as make sure his estimation was right, so the deal would be finished by the end of the week. She had a feeling that if she sold the sword in a larger city, she could have gotten a lot more for it, but ultimately they needed money right away, and a single sword would not make the weather. Once she had the time and funds to research the market better, she could start to make much better estimates.
“Still, I do wonder about the smithing style,” Cheng Dao mused, “is it from the southern provinces? With the style of your robes, I figured your sect might be from there…”
“I am afraid I can’t say,” she chuckled.
She saw his expression shift slightly, becoming more wary, and realized she made a misstep.
“It should be noted in its refiner certificate,” he said, “Together with the name of the refiner who made it.”
“A refiner certificate?” she asked, raising her eyebrow, trying to figure out how to play off her obvious ignorance.
“Yes, refiner certificate,” he frowned, “Every weapon that is refined in the empire is required to have one, and it of course needs to be passed over during the sale.”
She mentally kicked herself for not doing her due diligence by visiting the library before she came here. No doubt her sect still held this certificate for her own sword - she had never heard it mentioned to her personally, at the very least. And Wang Yonghao might have simply not cared about it.
“What I mean to say is, this weapon has been found in an abandoned ruin quite far from here,” she continued, “It has no certificate because I do not know who the refiner was.”
This was true - she always figured found swords should be easier to sell than the other types. Cheng Dao pursed his lips in response to this, though she saw his mood improve somewhat.
“Well, so much for an easy sale,” he muttered, rummaging around below his counter, “I take it this is your first time selling a ruin artifact? Your sect master really should have warned you about this.”
“My master is something of a recluse, I am afraid,” she said, “Which is why I am the one conducting this sale in the first place. What seems to be the issue?”
“When a ruin artifact is sold, it first goes to the spirit hunters so that they could make sure it has no owner,” he said, finally taking out a sheet of paper with a form written on it, “Many thieves try to pass off stolen weapons as something they simply found lying around, so they send messages to all nearby cities with its description, and check to make sure nobody reported it as stolen. The whole process takes a good month, and then there are taxes on top of that.”
“Taxes?”
“Treasure tax, yes. Twenty-five percent of the sale value or the estimated value by the spirit hunters, whichever is higher, on top of the standard sale tax on spiritual goods of twenty percent. It’s a good thing you are in a sect, too,” he chuckled, quickly filling out the form in front of him, “For loose cultivators evaluation takes three months, and the treasure tax is seventy percent. Imagine only getting ten percent of the sale value!”
Her blood froze for a moment. Didn’t Wang Yonghao mention something about three months?
“Well, this is all filled out,” he said, turning the form over to her, “I just need your sect seal, and I’ll head over with you to submit the sword for examination.”
She kept her face still, and reached into her pouch, pretending to rummage around for the sect seal. This was a disaster.
Her sect seal contained her name and the name of her sect - even though the sword itself wasn’t stolen, if it went up for examination they would end up on the form. Then the spirit hunters would surely contact her sect, and the sect would tell them that she was a runaway. As soon as that happened, she would surely be dragged right back.
She couldn’t let that happen.
“How silly of me,” she frowned, opening her purse up fully to look inside while stealthily palming her seal to hide it, “I must have left my sect seal back at the tavern. I will be right back.”
She took the sword and tossed it into her backpack, bowing to Cheng Dao. He frowned a bit, but shrugged and let her go. She hurried out of the store, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest.
She should have thought of this. It was unforgivably careless for her to still be using her sect seal freely - she needed a replacement as soon as possible. How did loose cultivators get their seals?
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
She turned away from one of the main streets and headed down a narrow alley. Her paranoia was starting to spike again. What else was she missing?
Would Cheng Dao report her as a potential thief? He let her go, surely not…
No, she couldn’t take the risk. The only safe assumption was that she was already reported. They needed to get out of town before that caused problems. She should head back to the tavern -
No. That was also a mistake. If Cheng Dao was going to report her, he would most likely head over to the spirit hunters immediately - at this point, the only safe assumption was that they must be looking for a black-haired cultivator in a long leather cloak and red robes. She needed to change her appearance as soon as possible. Furthermore, she needed to hide her backpack somewhere - if she was questioned about all the swords in it, it would cause even more problems.
She immediately circulated Crushing Glance of the Neverworld Eyes, turning her hair a brilliant shade of green, and started looking over the buildings near her. Soon enough, she spotted exactly what she needed: a clothesline, hanging high up in the air from a well-off house - one rich enough that they surely wouldn’t miss a few clothes, but with clothes themselves that were not so rich that her appearance would draw eyes. She glanced around her, making sure nobody could see her, and quickly leaped off the narrow walls of the alley to reach it, taking a long green dress to match her hair. Having to do it with one hand almost made her slip and fall, but she managed to keep her balance.
Sorry for this. I will make it up if I can later on.
She folded the dress and quickly put it into her backpack, then headed off down another alley. She was reasonably sure the loss of some clothes would be beneath notice of spirit hunters - if the family even reported it, and didn’t just assume it flew off in the wind. A few more thefts later, and she was holed up on one of the roofs near a terrace wall, hidden from sight behind a large chimney in a spot that she was sure nobody had even glanced at in months, judging by the amount of dust and dry leaves all around her. She quickly took out her sewing set and her jade slate for reference, and set about adjusting the dress to fit her figure.
Her work was amateurish, but she wasn’t trying to win any beauty pageants - only to make the dress look presentable, as if it was fitted for her height and build. Half an hour later, she got it to a passable point - spending more work on it would simply waste crucial time that she did not really have. She concealed obvious stitches with the Crushing Glance where she could, put her old robes into her backpack, wrapped it in her cloak, and covered it in dark, grimey dust to make it look like absolutely nothing of value. Hopefully it would remain hidden until she made sure that the tavern was safe.
She quickly descended back down to the ground, dusted herself off, and calmly headed off towards the tavern, looking for all the world like a completely different person.
----------------------------------------
Qian Shanyi leaned back on the park bench, breathing deeply and observing the world around her. Ordinarily, this would be a relaxing scene: people were strolling down the park pathways all around her, cute ducks were playing in a nearby pond, and wind gently ruffled her brilliant green hair. Unfortunately, she wasn’t here for nature. She kept the tavern where Wang Yonghao should have been in her peripheral vision, making sure not to stare at it directly.
When she arrived here, she didn’t head inside of it right away, and that ended up being the correct move. Not twenty minutes after her arrival at the park, she saw a pair of spirit hunters head inside, wearing their robes of many ribbons, and then five minutes later, one of them had left. The other one remained inside, doing only Heaven knew what.
It was possible they weren’t here for her. She didn’t see Wang Yonghao anywhere - if they came to ask her questions, then surely they would have knocked on his door? But perhaps he hid away, or left before they came, guided by his luck. And now one of the spirit hunters might have been laying in wait, awaiting her return.
But this was only a possibility. She had nothing to base this on, except her own rampant paranoia. And the longer she hesitated to move inside, the larger the other risks became: Wang Yonghao might decide that something happened and leave the tavern, attracting attention to himself. Or perhaps the spirit hunter wasn’t here for her now, but his colleague could come back and tell him about a new person they should be looking out for at any moment. To make matters worse, she couldn’t stay at the park forever - eventually someone might notice that she hasn’t left her spot in hours, and that too would raise questions.
Her arm ached, trying to distract her from her thoughts - the sling would identify her just as well as her hair, and so she took it off - but it was nothing compared to what she had to deal with over the past weeks. The movement would aggravate the injury, but that should only slow the healing process down, not stop it completely.
She needed to test her theory. Even if spirit hunters were looking for her, the shopkeeper couldn’t possibly have given them a perfect description - she would walk around town and pass by a few of the guards to test if her disguise held up. If it did, she would head inside of the tavern and see what the other spirit hunter was doing there.
----------------------------------------
Liu Fakuang thought this new assignment was some of the easiest he had ever had. Sit in a tavern, get food on imperial payroll, and wait just in case someone showed up? What could be easier? The only problem was that he couldn’t drink on duty, and he knew that by the time his watch was over, he would already be bored to death.
“Ah, a fellow cultivator. I hope you won’t mind it if I join you for a drink or two?”
He raised his head, and saw a green-headed jade beauty looking down on him, dressed modestly in a floor-length green dress.
“Afraid I can’t drink,” he smiled at her, “but if you only want company, I wouldn’t mind offering. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”
“Lan Yishan,” she smiled, sitting down, “Thank you for your accommodation. My master used to be a spirit hunter - is the work difficult out here on the frontier?”
They got talking, and he found himself opening up a bit. His mission here wasn’t even a secret - just a tip off from a merchant who thought something strange was going on. Personally, he thought waiting around was pointless - even if they were sure this “Qian Shanyi” that he talked to was the same one that rented a room here, the innkeeper didn’t see her ever since, and her spouse had left shortly after she did. They didn’t even have enough to go on to break into their rooms, and even if they did, the couple had surely skipped town by now, but he supposed it paid to be cautious. His seat was positioned so that he could easily keep watch over the entire room, and even see into the corridor towards the locked door into the room the couple had rented out.
“Well, I am afraid it’s getting late, so I will be heading to bed,” Lan Yishan said, stretching her hands, “I do not know if I will stay in town for longer, but if I do, it has been pleasant talking with you.”
“Please don’t tell that to my betrothed,” he shook his head, “if she finds out I have been chatting with women at work, she would be very irate.”
“My lips are forever sealed.”
Lan Yishan headed down the corridor towards the rooms, passed by the door he was keeping watch over, and rounded a corner. He leaned back in his seat. He would wait until morning, and then report that predictably their target had never shown up.
What an easy assignment.
----------------------------------------
Qian Shanyi reached a window at the end of the tavern corridor, glanced around to make sure she was alone, and climbed out and onto the roof. Doing it in skirts was immeasurably annoying - she hadn’t worn any since she joined the sect, and the way they constrained her legs made climbing far harder than it needed to be, and her damaged arm certainly didn’t help matters. She hoped she wouldn’t have to fight like this, because as soon as she pushed herself to truly move, there would be nothing left of the fabric but the tears.
She carefully sneaked over to the chimney she knew led into their room, took off her clothes to keep them clean from the soot, tied her rope around the chimney and climbed in. By now, the night had fallen and the streets were almost empty - the chances of someone seeing her were really quite low.
There was also a chance that the spirit hunter would ask the innkeeper if she booked a room here, but she made sure to sit so that the innkeeper couldn’t see her face clearly, and picked a time when he left the room to excuse herself, so she doubted he could tell on her. On top of that, Liu Fakuang seemed remarkably careless for his position.
She shimmied her way down the chimney, not breathing lest she descend into a coughing fit from the dusty soot inside, and popped out of the fireplace. After carefully whisking the dust away from her feet with her spiritual energy to not leave any footprints, she entered the room and looked around.
Liu Fakuang told her Wang Yonghao had left just after she did, which made no sense whatsoever. She hoped she could find something in here that could give her a single bloody hint where the fuck he might have ran off to.
Sure enough, there was a letter left on the table, right by her writing supplies.
Fellow cultivator Qian Shanyi,
You are devilishly smart, so I think you probably already figured this out. I already told you I brought someone into my inner world before, but I didn’t say what happened. For a month, we’ve traveled together, and it was one of the best times in my life. Then I ran into demonic cultivators, they caught him, and tore him apart limb from limb to get back at me.
This is what always happens. I don’t want people to die because of me. It’s already bad enough that I bring misfortune to towns I visit, but it is so much worse when it is someone I know. How many times have you almost died just in the couple weeks you’ve known me? Just me getting drunk once was enough to almost kill you. You make jokes about it, and I do not understand it, but if I were to stay I know for sure you’d be dead within a couple months, and it will be my fault again.
Even though you are a massive asshole, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a piece of hope that this nightmare might have an end. If - when - I find a way to get rid of my luck, I’ll repay you tenfold,
I hope you are right and no catastrophe happens today,
Sorry for tricking you,
Senior Wang Yonghao
She crumpled the paper into a ball, wishing she could do the same to his neck.
“He cut me off?“ she hissed, “Just left me here to deal with the spirit hunters by myself? You asshole, we had a deal! Oh I’ll find you, Yonghao, and then you won’t hear the end of this.”
Alone in a town not of her choosing, with no money and the law on her tail, she started to scheme.
End of Volume 1, “Spherical Jade In A Vacuum”. Volume 2, “Tracing The Runaway Trails” starts next week.